Page 7 of Tears of Gold

My lips land on his shoulder again. What else can I do?

“It was my fault he was driving the wrong car in the rain the next day. I had his Range Rover.”

I lift my gaze to his, blinking into the blues. “That was his car in Brighton.”

He nods. “Yes. It’s like mine, but better. Peter loved the best of everything. It got me to Brighton in less time than the train took you.”

“You were there when I arrived?”

“I watched you let yourself into Dan's house.” The blues flicker at the mention of Dan, but that’s the only deep response I can find.

“Why didn’t you stop me before I went in?”

“Even before I knew what happened between you, I can’t lie, Faith. It made me jealous knowing how close you two were. When I saw you pull his key, still on your key-ring, out of your bag and slide it into the lock, it stung.”

I drop my head. This hurts.

“So when I say we are going into battle, what I mean is that the moment we announce our engagement they will come at us again.”

“Because they will never accept me?” I know this. But it still damn hurts.

He shakes his head. “No. Because you were my choice.” His hand reaches out, his fingers tangling with mine. “I’m the heir now. Whether I want to be or not. They will try to scare you away again.”

I meet his gaze with fierce determination, my heart hammering in my chest. “They can’t. I’m in. All in.”

Leaning forward, he cups my face in the palm of his hands. “Good.” For the first time since the events of Brighton, he kisses me properly. His lips planting on mine, rough and strange, their surface not the smooth warmth I’m used to. His tongue sweeps along my lower lip and begrudgingly—because I can’t help myself, but at the same time I know it’s hurting him—I part my lips to allow him in. His hand slides into my hair, knotting his fingers into the strands. Heat flares across my body, darting low in my stomach. I kiss him back, our tongues dancing, revelling in being together again. The beating of my heart booms a wild rhythm as I slide myself closer to him, pressing my breasts against his chest, desperate to feel any part of him.

“I love you,” I whisper the words into his mouth.

His fingers loosen in my hair and he pulls back to meet my gaze. “I don’t think I can do today.”

I offer him a sad smile. “You can. It’s going to hurt, but I know you can. You are strong, a fighter; think of all the battles you win in the courtroom. You can face down anything.”

Slowly he drops his head to my shoulder, brushing the air he exhales across my neck. We sit there, tight together, until a splatter of water lands on my skin, and another, then another.

I shift back to look at him, to find his beautiful eyes swimming with tears. “I’m sorry.” He dashes a hand against his cheek.

“Never be sorry.” My own eyes well with tears. “Your brother died. It’s okay to let the hurt show.”

He gives a half laugh, wry and bitter. “Emotion isn’t encouraged at Bowsley.”

“Just as well you have me then. I encourage emotion, arse kicking and ink. It fixes everything.”

His lips curve a little. “I can’t lose anyone else. First Dad, now Pete.”

I nod slowly. “I know. It hurts.”

My stomach rumbles again and a pang of sickness washes up my throat as I realise how hungry I am.

“I’ve never heard your stomach make those noises before.” He chuckles and it lifts the atmosphere.

“I’m glad my hunger amuses you.” I slide off the bed. “Come on, let's get ready.”

“No, no, this is your home now. We can do breakfast in pyjamas.”

I snort a laugh. “But, Elijah, you aren’t in pyjamas. You are as naked as the day you were born.”

He glances down, his arousal at our long overdue kiss still evident. “Wait. Wait. Now, Faith. I don’t want you to get overexcited.” He gets up, wincing a little and I take the moment to admire his body; even black and blue he’s still a sight to behold. He stalks for the bag he brought into my room last night when he ‘moved in’.