CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER FIVE

S ADIE WAS RIGID against Quin for a long moment. It was the shock of being in his arms again after so long. The shock of his mouth on hers...all at once familiar and utterly new. But the shock was fast dissolving under his touch, being replaced with a desire and a hunger so deep and ravenous that within seconds she was pressing closer, twining her arms around his neck and stretching up as much as she could, so she could meet his kiss with a desperation that clawed up from the centre of her body and spread out to every limb, making her shake with it.

They ceased to be bodies. They were heat and need and intense burning desire. Quin’s hands were on her robe, undoing the belt, pushing it off her shoulders so it fell to the floor. His fingers were under her swimsuit straps, pushing them off and down, then the wet material was being peeled from her body to fall to the floor.

He broke the kiss and pulled back, stood up straight.

Sadie was unselfconscious in her nakedness—she needed Quin too much. His dark gaze feasted on her flesh, taking in every dip and hollow. She was filled with urgency and reached for him, undoing the buttons on his shirt, breath fast, panicky with need, in case this moment somehow dissolved and she lost him again.

You didn’t lose him...you walked away , reminded a little voice.

Sadie ignored it. Clearly Quin was not ready to hear what she had to say, and maybe she still wasn’t ready to tell him either. There was so much unspoken between them and maybe this was the only way to defuse it. Then maybe they could talk like rational adults.

Quin was naked now. Sadie wasn’t aware of having removed his trousers and underwear. Maybe he had. But she didn’t care. She felt as if she could finally breathe again.

She reached out and touched his chest, putting her hands to his warm skin. Her fingers trapped his nipples, the light dusting of hair over his pectorals. Her gaze took in the lean muscles of his stomach and down, to narrow hips and the place where he was magnificent and proud. Hard for her.

She wrapped a hand around him and heard his indrawn breath. She looked up and felt dizzy. His face was stark with the same need that was coursing through her own blood.

He took her hand off him and said, ‘No time. I need you now.’

He took Sadie’s hand and she let herself be led into the bedroom. Quin let her go for a moment, disappearing into the bathroom. Sadie sat down on the bed, her legs weak. She was trembling all over. She couldn’t believe this was happening. Was it a dream?

Quin reappeared, his tall, muscular body gleaming like burnished bronze in the low lights. He’d always been supremely at ease naked. That was helped by the fact that he was more beautiful than any man could be, but also because he had an innate confidence that Sadie had always envied.

Now she knew it came from being brought up as a member of one America’s most venerated families. Something he’d kept from her. Her guts twisted. They had so much to discuss... But, weakly, she pushed it all aside and watched as Quin rolled a protective sheath onto his erection.

She hadn’t known there was protection in the bathroom. Did he use this house when he brought lovers over? That had to be it. To keep his home and personal life separate. A little knife lodged in her heart as she thought of him taking lovers here, but of course she had no right to be hurt. Not after what she’d done.

Then Quin stood before her and every thought went out of her head.

He said, ‘Move back on the bed.’

Sadie somehow managed to get her limbs to move. She lay back and watched as Quin came over her, muscles rippling. She remembered how it had always been between them. So intense. She quivered inwardly. Was she ready for this again? She’d never be ready... But she knew she needed it like she needed oxygen. To keep breathing. To stay alive.

Quin looked at her, and she felt the flush of blood rising to her skin under his gaze.

He said roughly, ‘You haven’t changed.’

Sadie would have refuted that if she’d been able to speak. She felt like a different person. She’d broken inside when she’d had to walk away from Quin and Sol, and she didn’t know if those jagged pieces would ever heal. But he wouldn’t want to hear that.

‘You haven’t changed either,’ she said, feeling shy for a second.

His gaze met hers and she almost gasped at the swirling vortex of emotion she glimpsed before he lowered his lids and masked his eyes from her. Maybe he had changed too. Although, as much as he’d told her he loved her before , she couldn’t imagine that he’d loved her more than she had him. And that love had certainly died with her disappearance.

He rested on his hands over her, his body long and sleek. Jaw stubbled. Mouth tempting. To stop any more thoughts intruding, and robbing her of this moment, Sadie reached up for him. ‘Please, Quin. I need you.’

He hesitated for a moment, and Sadie had a few seconds of blood-curdling fear that he’d planned on bringing her to the brink like this only to humiliate her at the last moment. The old Quin she’d known wouldn’t have ever done anything so cruel, but this man was not the same. Physically, maybe, but in every other way not the same.

But he put an arm under her back, arching her up to him. Sadie widened her legs around him, tacitly telling him what she wanted. She bit her lip. And then before she could take another breath Quin was sliding into her.

She gasped at the sensation. She’d forgotten what it was like...and yet she’d forgotten nothing. He was stretching her wide, and it had been four years, so it bordered on being painful.

Quin stopped. ‘Sadie?’

But she could already feel the way her body was accommodating him, relearning his shape, accepting him.

Breathless, she said, ‘It’s fine... I’m fine. Don’t stop... please .’

Slowly he started to move...in and out. An age-old dance. He was the only man she’d ever slept with, and she had to bury her head in Quin’s shoulder for a moment, in case he saw the emotion bubbling upwards at the realisation that she wanted him to be the only man she ever slept with. Forever.

But that was a dream she had no right to now.

All she had was this present moment.

Mercifully, the sensations in her body were eclipsing the emotion as their movements became faster, more hungry. Sweat slicked their skin. Desperation clawed at Sadie’s insides as the shimmering peak of ecstasy appeared on the horizon, her body quickening and tightening in anticipation.

She vaguely heard Quin mutter something under his breath—some kind of curse... Maybe because he wanted to eke out this moment but couldn’t. Sadie could well imagine that Quin would relish torturing her as long as possible.

But the frenzy was upon them, and Sadie knew from previous experience that all she could do was surrender to it and let it sweep her away.

And that was exactly what happened. Quin thrust so deep that Sadie arched her back and wrapped her legs and arms around him, breaking apart all over and splintering into a million shards of pleasure.

She clung on for dear life as she felt Quin’s big body jerk against hers as he found his own release, before he slumped over her, his face buried in her neck.

In that moment, Sadie felt the first measure of peace she’d had in four years.

When Sadie woke, she felt as if she was climbing up through several layers of sleep. She cracked open her eyes and squinted a little at the bright sunlight. She took in her surroundings—the spacious room, lots of glass, teak.

The guesthouse. Quin.

Instantly she was wide awake and registering that she was alone.

She sat up, holding the sheet to her chest. The bed was very rumpled but there was no dent in the pillow beside her, so Quin obviously hadn’t gone to sleep here.

It all came rushing back. She’d taken a swim and had come back into the house to see Quin standing in the room. He’d switched off the music.

Music that had made her feel emotional as she heard it again, transporting her back to those halcyon days in Sao Sebastiao in their little beach hut, so wrapped up in each other that the outside world had gone unnoticed.

The music that Sol had been born to at exactly the same moment her head had been filled with restored memories and images and a horrific realisation. Two profound things happening at once.

Obviously she’d had to prioritise devoting all her energy into giving birth, ensuring her baby’s safe passage into a world that was suddenly not a benign place any more. But from that moment on she’d been on borrowed time.

Sadie shook her head to free it of the past. She was here now. With her son. Well, not exactly with him, but in his world. And last night had just been a conflagration of the tension between her and Quin. Not helpful to their situation. Quite possibly he would resent her for this. Maybe he would see it as a weakness—giving in to the chemistry that was still between them.

If emotion had been involved on Quin’s side Sadie was sure it wasn’t any positive emotion. For her, though, it had been incredibly overwhelming, reminding her of the pull she’d felt as soon as she’d met him face to face for the first time.

Although, as she well knew, she’d felt that pull after spotting him on the porch of his house on the beach a couple of days before that. He’d been a solitary figure. Like her. Tall, compelling. Beautiful. But she’d done her best not to look him, to pretend that he hadn’t caught her eye. Because she hadn’t been able to afford to make connections with anyone. It was too dangerous.

But then he’d walked into the little barber shop where she’d worked, and she’d had nowhere to hide nor time to pretend she hadn’t seen him. Within minutes she’d had his head in her hands. Running her fingers through his hair. Trying her best to avoid those dark, mesmerising eyes in the mirror. That sculpted mouth that had made her press her thighs together to stem the heat rising deep in her core.

He’d asked her out and her heart had leapt. For the first time she’d resented her life. She’d wished she could say yes , even though the thought had terrified her because he was so intimidatingly gorgeous and sexy. In any case, she hadn’t had a choice. She’d had to say no.

The next day he’d reappeared and asked her out again. She’d said no again, even more regretful.

And then the next thing she remembered was waking in hospital after the surfing accident...with nothing but a persistent fog in her head.

After that they’d never been apart again—until the moment she’d walked away. Out of his and her son’s lives.

Sadie got out of the bed and pulled on a robe. Between her legs she felt tender. She blushed. Ridiculous. She took a shower and noticed the places on her body and skin where Quin’s stubble had made it red, or where he’d squeezed her flesh.

She turned the shower to cold for a second, hoping to shock some sense back into her brain. Last night had meant nothing. Only that the desire between them was as strong as ever. Except...

Sadie shivered a little as she turned off the water. Maybe last night was all Quin had needed to exorcise her from his system.

When Quin returned from work later that day he wasn’t prepared for the sight before him on the lawn. Sadie, in jeans and a T-shirt, battered sneakers, her hair pulled up, was playing football with Sol. She might have passed for a teenager if it hadn’t been for her womanly curves.

He’d walked out of the guesthouse as dawn had broken that morning, telling himself that he wouldn’t touch Sadie again. It had been a moment of madness. A build-up of four years of frustration and pain and anger.

He’d hoped that maybe now he’d feel some kind of peace.

But far from feeling any measure of peace, he’d been tormented by her all day. He’d kept having flashbacks to seeing her naked for the first time in four years. The way it had felt to slide into her body...the moment when she’d looked at him with wide eyes, reminding him of how she’d looked at him when they’d first made love because she’d been a virgin.

A question had buzzed in his head all day. Had she looked at him like that, had her body been so tight, because she hadn’t slept with anyone in four years? Since him?

He hated it that he even cared.

Sadie expertly deflected the ball from Sol. Quin realised she was good. Sol was in heaven with such a worthy adversary, trying to get the ball back, and Quin could see the exact moment when she feigned missing it so that Sol could get it and shoot for the goal. He jumped up and down with glee and Sadie caught him around the waist and lifted him up. The two heads were close together, strawberry-blonde.

And suddenly it was too much—last night and now this.

Quin called out from the open door, ‘Sol, time to clean up for dinner.’

Sadie turned around with Sol still in her arms and the two sets of aquamarine eyes hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut, compounding the sense of exposure he felt at having indulged in his lust for Sadie last night. And the way she’d dominated his thoughts all day.

He still didn’t even know what her agenda was. Or why she’d walked out four years ago.

You didn’t give her a chance to talk last night , reminded a little voice.

It made him call out again with uncharacteristic sharpness, ‘Sol, now . I won’t ask again.’

Sol slid down from Sadie’s arms and came inside, looking at Quin warily, making him feel about two inches tall. He rarely, if ever, spoke harshly to his son.

He looked at Sadie and felt the impulse to blame her—but that wasn’t fair either, in spite of everything.

She said, ‘Sorry, that was probably my fault. I didn’t realise how much time had passed.’

She had dirt on the knees of her jeans, and Quin could see a streak across one cheek. He couldn’t imagine any of the kind of women he met now allowing themselves to get so dishevelled. But Sadie had never been concerned with her appearance—except for that weird habit she’d had, insisting on dyeing her hair once a month.

He’d asked her once, ‘Why do you bother?’

If anything, it had only made her look more pale, and there was no reason to do it that he’d been able to understand.

She’d said, ‘It’s the weirdest thing, and I can’t explain it, but I feel safer if I do it...’

Because of her memory loss they’d both put things like this down to quirks that might one day be explained.

He pushed the past back and said, ‘It’s fine.’ And then, ‘You should probably wash too...before dinner.’

Sadie put a hand to her face and blushed. She still blushed.

She said, ‘Of course. But I just need to finish a couple of jobs first.’

She’d walked by Quin into the house before he could stop her, trailing her tantalising scent behind her—earth and roses and citrus. Clean, innocent...

Irritation and frustration prickled over and under Quin’s skin at so many different things that before he could expose himself any more he set off to check on Sol—who was his priority above anything else. Or any one else. Especially her.

Sadie was left in no doubt that Quin deeply regretted what had happened the previous night. The look he’d given her when he’d found her playing football with Sol had almost cut her in half.

Maybe she shouldn’t have indulged in playing with her son, but when he’d come home from school with Lena he’d asked if she could play football with him. She’d explained regretfully that she still had some housework to do, but Lena had pooh-poohed that and told Sol to get changed into his kit.

Sadie couldn’t feel sorry, though, because the last couple of hours had healed so much of the hurt and pain she’d endured. Her little boy was a joy. Sunny and mischievous and kind and funny. More than she’d even imagined he could be. Talking non-stop, endlessly curious...

Now Sadie quickly finished up what she’d been doing—sorting clothes in the laundry—and went back out to the main living-dining area, steeling herself in case she bumped into Quin and his disapproving expression again.

But Roberto was there, smiling. ‘Dinner will be ready in a short while.’

Sadie’s heartstrings were plucked. She’d love to spend more time with Sol, but she knew when she wasn’t welcome. Sol had been away last night, and no doubt Quin would want to have him to himself.

She forced a smile. ‘Thank you so much, but I’ll eat in the guesthouse this evening.’

Roberto remonstrated with her, but Sadie insisted. However, he wouldn’t let her go without giving her a portion of his stew in a Tupperware container. Sadie took it, touched again by his and Lena’s kindness.

Before Sol had come back down earlier, still in his football kit, Sadie had said, ‘I hope I’m not intruding too much on your routine with Sol?’

The older woman had shaken her head. ‘Not at all. It’s good you are here.’

Sadie had bitten her lip, and then blurted out, ‘Thank you...you have no idea how much that means to me.’

Lena had taken Sadie’s hand in hers and said, ‘Some women are capable of walking away from a child, but I don’t think you are. I’m sure you had a good reason to do what you did.’

Surprise at hearing her confirm that she did know that she was Sol’s mother and at her words had taken Sadie’s breath, and by the time she’d felt remotely able to respond Sol had returned and Lena had disappeared with a small wink.

Sadie said, ‘Thank you,’ again to Roberto, and left the house, walking back down through the garden to the guesthouse. She’d only been here for a couple of days, but the place already felt more like home than anywhere else she’d been.

Except for Sao Sebastiao.

Her and Quin’s beach paradise.

She’d never wanted to leave. She hadn’t even wanted to go into Sao Paulo to give birth. But Quin had insisted, strangely paranoid about the risks of childbirth.

It was only in the last four years that Sadie had realised that maybe on some level, in spite of her memory loss, she’d known that it would be inherently dangerous to go out of their cocooned existence at the beach and into a big city. Maybe going into the city had been the thing that had precipitated her memory return, and then Sol’s birth had brought it back completely?

She was inside the guesthouse now, and she set up a place for herself at the dining table and tried not to look towards the trees, where the lights of the big house were just visible. She’d spent too many days and evenings walking around towns and cities in the last four years, glimpsing scenes of families together, and she wasn’t going to allow herself to wallow in that self-pity again. She was free, and she was here—near to her son.

She pushed down the rising panic at the thought that she might always exist like this, on the margins of their lives. It was enough. It would have to be.

But a couple of hours later Sadie couldn’t settle. She’d tried watching TV, but couldn’t understand Portuguese. She’d tried reading, but had thrown the book down when she’d realised she’d read the same paragraph ten times without understanding a word.

It was rising within her. The need to tell Quin what had happened. He had to know. Now. The lights were still on in the house, visible through the trees. Yet she felt reluctant to go up there—especially as Quin hadn’t appeared to invite her to join them.

Or to make love to you again , whispered a little voice.

Sadie cursed herself. That had been an incendiary moment, borne out of their tangled past and chemistry. An anomaly.

But in spite of her reluctance and misgivings, she pulled a light cardigan over her T-shirt and left the guesthouse.

All was quiet when she reached the house. No sign of anyone. She guessed Roberto and Lena would have gone home. Sol must be in bed. Maybe Quin was in bed too?

But then she heard a noise coming from the area where his office was situated and followed the sound. The door was partially open and light spilled out. Her heart thumped. She curbed the urge to turn and run. It was time to do this.

She knocked lightly on the door.

Quin’s voice came. ‘Sol? I told you that it’s too late for—’

The words stopped when he opened the door and saw Sadie.

‘Not Sol. It’s me.’

He just looked at her for a long moment. ‘Why didn’t you come to dinner?’

She pushed aside the lingering feeling of loneliness. It was ridiculous, she’d made that decision to eat alone. In four years she’d not succumbed to self—pity and she wasn’t about to start.

‘I thought you’d appreciate time with Sol because he was away last night.’

And they’d made love. Heat threatened to rise at the memory. But then Sadie went cold inside as she wondered if she was so desperate for him to touch her again that this was the reason she’d come up here looking for him, not because she wanted to unburden herself about why she’d left.

He said, ‘You would have been welcome.’ Then he frowned. ‘Is everything okay?’

Sadie swallowed. Whatever her reasons for coming here, there was only one thing she really needed to do right now. ‘I think we need to talk about what happened.’

Quin’s expression turned to stone. ‘That was a mistake. It won’t happen again.’

Now Sadie frowned, confused. And then she realised what he was referring to. Last night. The recent past—not the past. A pain lanced her heart. Well, if she’d been in any doubt about how he felt about it, she wasn’t now.

Feeling defensive, she said, ‘You came to me.’

‘I’m aware of that. Put it down to a certain level of frustration.’

Charming. He’d only slept with her because she’d been convenient, in spite of all of their baggage.

Forgetting momentarily why she’d come, Sadie said, ‘So does that mean you haven’t had any lovers?’

He looked at her. ‘I told you I wasn’t with anyone.’

A little rogue devil inside Sadie somersaulted. Maybe if he hadn’t been with anyone then he didn’t despise her as much as he wanted her to believe. ‘I wasn’t sure if that meant lovers or a relationship.’

‘Like I said, I don’t have much time to focus on a personal life.’

Sadie realised they’d got way off track. She shook her head. ‘That’s not what I came to talk to you about. You misunderstood me.’

‘What did you come to talk about?’

She steeled herself. ‘I think now is as good a time as any to tell you why I left.’

For a long moment Quin said nothing. She half expected him to say it was too late.

But then he stood back to admit her into the office and said, ‘I guess it is.’

Nerves assailed Sadie as she walked into the large room, but she couldn’t back out now. She hadn’t taken in all that much detail in when she’d seen the room before, but now she noticed the hardwood floors softened by colourful rugs. Floor-to-ceiling shelves groaned with books. There was a huge desk and a plethora of computers and devices. Touchingly, in one corner there was a kiddie-sized table and chair—evidence of Quin having Sol close by while he was working. Making him feel included.

Quin walked around to the other side of his desk and folded his arms and looked at her. ‘Go on, Sadie, I’m all ears.’

He wasn’t making this easy. Needing some courage in the face of his lack of emotion, not to mention his rejection of what had happened the previous night, she asked, ‘Do you have anything to drink in here?’

Quin unlocked his arms. ‘That’s not a bad idea.’

As she watched, he went over to a cabinet in the corner of the room, and she saw him open a bottle and pour dark golden liquid into two small glasses. He came back and handed her one.

He lifted his glass and said, ‘Cheers,’ then downed his drink in one.

Sadie echoed his ‘cheers’ faintly, and did the same as him, wincing as the bitter liquid burned its way down her throat and into her belly. But it had an effect, sending out a warming glow that automatically made her feel less...edgy.

‘You never did like hard spirits much,’ he observed.

He remembered.

How much else did he remember? Would he ever just remember the good times?

Quin took the glass out of her hand and said, ‘Another?’

Sadie shook her head. ‘No, that’s enough.’

He put the glasses back and turned around again, folding his arms. ‘Well?’

It was unbelievably daunting, having to launch into explaining everything while Quin exuded such remoteness.

‘Can you...not look at me like that, please?’

‘Like what?’

Like we weren’t making love just twenty-four hours ago.

Sadie shook her head. ‘Nothing. It’s just...a lot to tell you. And I’m nervous. Can we sit down, or something?’

‘Of course.’

Quin felt so tense he thought he might crack. He had to consciously breathe and relax his muscles, but it was hard when all he could do was look at Sadie and want her. In spite of what he’d just told her.

‘It won’t happen again.’

His brain might have formulated those words but his body did not agree. His blood was hot and heavy in his veins. And his groin.

She looked incredibly fragile right now. Pale. She’d changed into soft, worn sweat pants and another non-descript T-shirt, with a cardigan pulled across her chest. Her hair was still messy from earlier. But she was no less alluring than she’d been last night, when they’d come together like two starving people in the desert finding water.

When she hadn’t come for dinner he’d told himself it was a good thing. Since she’d reappeared in their lives he hadn’t felt fully in control. He’d been behaving instinctively. Reacting. The previous night was proof of that.

So he’d ignored the urge to go and get her, and had told Sol she needed to have some time for herself. He had done his best not to notice his son’s disappointment. But he’d been conscious of the guesthouse lights through the trees.

He’d had to shut himself away in his office after he’d put Sol to bed, because the urge to go to her again had been so strong.

And even now, when she was about to tell him why she had walked out of their lives, he still couldn’t focus fully. Damn her.

He forced his blood to cool and said, with as much civility as he could, ‘Please, sit down.’

He pulled out a chair and Sadie sat, stiff. She was obviously as tense as him. He forced himself to sit too, on a chair near her, and rejected an urge he had to tug her onto his lap and feel her close to him, to reassure her that she could tell him anything.

This was why he couldn’t touch her again. It clouded his brain. And he needed to be very clear now, when she was about to tell him why she’d walked out on her newborn baby and him. As far as Quin was concerned there was no reason on earth that could justify why she’d done that.

‘Can you stop glaring at me? This is hard enough.’

Quin cursed silently and forced himself to relax. She was clasping and unclasping her hands. She was nervous. She was avoiding his eye now.

‘Look, what I’m going to tell you is going to be a lot to take in and it’s going to sound...ridiculous.’

She looked at him, and Quin’s insides clenched at the sight of those amazing eyes.

‘But it’s all true. I promise you.’

The only true thing Quin knew in that moment was that, no matter what lurid tale fell out of this woman’s mouth now, he would never trust her again.

He sat back and forced his tense limbs to relax. ‘Go on, please.’