Page 70 of The Village Inn of Secret Dream

She knew he felt it too. She knew from the way his lips assaulted hers, the way his breath had become ragged and the way he was crushing her to him.

Finally they broke apart, both breathless and wide-eyed as they stared at each other.

She knew that he had felt the connection between them as well. She’d never been kissed like that before. She wasn’t sure she ever would again.

Gradually coming out of her daze, she realised that they had both let go of each other.

‘I don’t want to hurt you,’ he finally said.

Her lips were still bruised from their passionate kisses. And yet, she felt that he was holding back again.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she told him, feeling déjà vu all over again as history repeated itself from the day of the funeral three years ago.

‘It does,’ he said, going to reach out to take her hand in his.

But Belle’s self-defence mechanism had already kicked in. She shook her head and said, ‘Get some sleep. We’ve got a big day tomorrow.’

It took every piece of strength that she could find to walk away from him and out of the bedroom, knowing that sleep was unlikely to come that night.

Nothing had changed in the three years. Her feelings for Pete and the way she had reacted to kissing him had been exactly the same.

And yet, everything had changed. Her aunt and uncle were halfway across the world. The inn had been sold. Even her home had been transformed and given a different look.

As she sank down onto her bed, she looked across at the pile of her grandmother’s clothes and wondered whether she too should be brave enough to give herself a new look as well.

And whether that would change anything at all.

38

Pete stood outside looking at the inn early in the afternoon on Saturday. Just in time for the grand opening of the restaurant that evening, the scaffolding had finally come down from around the building and the place had been transformed.

‘Thanks,’ he said to Mr Reynolds, reaching out to shake his hand. ‘It looks really great.’

‘My pleasure,’ said Mr Reynolds. ‘It’s always so satisfying taking a run-down place such as The Black Swan and making it look like new again.’

After they had said goodbye, Pete continued to stand outside staring up at the new sign.

The Black Swan Inn was now officially his. The paperwork for the sale had been signed off the previous day. The inn licence had been granted in his name too. There was no going back now.

The new commercial kitchen had been finished just in time and had been signed off an hour earlier by the health and safety officer. Having the approval on the day the restaurant opened was sailing pretty close to the wind, but he hoped it would all be worth it.

Everything was ready and yet he wasn’t excited. He was almost a little nervous, something he had never felt before. Or at least, since he had been a child.

It was a strange feeling. He had always been so confident, so sure of everything, including himself and his choices.

But somehow suddenly he wasn’t sure about anything.

He was afraid that his choice of going down the gastronomic route for the restaurant was wrong. He was worried about the chef. He was concerned that he had been overambitious by inviting the restaurant critic to the opening. He was nervous about the young staff he had hired and their lack of waiting abilities and experience.

But more than anything, he wasn’t sure about his feelings for Belle.

Somehow, the previous evening he had kissed her. He hadn’t been able to stop himself. She had glowed in the soft light of the bedroom and her soft perfume, the lustrous dark hair, her kind heart, all of it had robbed him of his sense of rationale and reason.

He should have been ashamed about his lack of control, but he had since realised that she had responded to his kisses with some of her own. As if she too desired him as much as he desired her.

Strangely, it hadn’t made things awkward between them that day. They had said good morning and then the preparations for the restaurant had overshadowed everything else.

He would try to speak to her later to apologise. To tell her that it wouldn’t happen again. And yet, some part of him was adamant that it should happen again and soon. That her kisses weren’t to be forgotten, as precious as they were.