His own mother had loved him that way.

His father, however, had not given a damn about him. Nicolas had caught up with him a few years ago and told him he was his son. The man had not only denied it, but he’d also spoken disparagingly about his mother, inferring she was some kind of sleep-around slut, which Nicolas knew wasn’t true. Nicolas hadn’t expected his father to love him. But he could have been kind, not cruel. Could have been decent.

He had the chance to be kind now…to be decent.

‘It’s all right, Serina,’ he said with a weary sigh of his own. ‘I won’t ask that of you. You win. I’ll walk away. And I won’t say a word about being Felicity’s father.’

She immediately burst into floods of tears.

‘Don’t cry,’ he snapped. ‘I’m not doing it for you. But for her. For my daughter.’

Serina lifted her head from her hands, her wet eyes beseeching. ‘You just don’t understand anything, do you? I loved you, Nicolas. I loved you so much. I thought you loved me, but you didn’t. You left me when I needed you. And you never came back. I couldn’t forgive you for that. But I couldn’t forget you, either.’

They stared at each other for a long time.

Nicolas was the first to speak.

‘Did you love Harmon as much as you loved me?’

‘I learned to love him,’ she said. ‘He was a good man. But my heart has always been yours, Nicolas. You were my first love, my first and only grand passion.’

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As she was his.

‘Spend the night with me,’ he said, his voice breaking a little.

Her eyes showed total disbelief.

‘I won’t put any conditions on your doing so. I promise I won’t say anything to anyone about Felicity whether you say yes or no. Please, Serina, I just want…’ He broke off before he broke down.

‘What, Nicolas?’ she asked with a tortured groan. ‘What is it that you want?’

‘Just you. In my arms. One more time.’

‘You don’t know what you’re asking,’ she choked out. ‘If I do this, I’ll fall hopelessly in love with you again and I won’t want you to go. I’ve never been able to resist you in bed, Nicolas. You must know that by now.’

‘It is some small comfort,’ he returned. ‘So what’s it to be, my love? Yes, or no?’

‘Oh…’ She shook her head from side to side before lancing him with a despairing look. ‘Not here,’ she blurted out.

Nicolas took that as a yes. So did his body.

‘I’ll follow you back to your place in Port,’ she said, her eyes already glittering brightly. ‘But I won’t be staying the whole night.’

Nicolas nodded….

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

WHEN Serina woke, a pre-dawn light was filtering through the window above the bed head.

So much for my resolve not to stay the whole night, she thought ruefully as she glanced at her wristwatch and saw that it was five past six. Sighing, she very carefully lifted her leg off Nicolas’s still-sleeping form and rolled onto her back next to him.

She’d been right to be fearful of staying the night with him. Nicolas in passionate mode was difficult enough to resist; Nicolas, the tender lover, was impossible to resist.

She hadn’t fallen hopelessly in love with him again. How could she when she was already in love with him? But she’d begun to have foolish hopes where he was concerned, very foolish hopes, indeed.

Down deep, she knew that he wasn’t going to come back to Rocky Creek to live. Neither was he going to marry her. The most Serina could hope was that he’d stay for the week that he’d booked. And perhaps come back for the odd visit over the coming years.

But more than likely he was going to get on that plane today and never return.

Last night had had goodbye written all over it.

Her heart turned over at this last thought. How was she going to be able to stand losing him again?

You’ll just have to, came the harsh voice of reason. You have no other choice. Mothers can’t afford to have mental breakdowns. Now get your butt moving, get dressed and go home before all the neighbours wake up and see you driving past still dressed in the clothes you were wearing last night.

Such thinking propelled her out of bed like a shot. Her clothes, fortunately, weren’t strewn all over the place as they had been yesterday afternoon. Nicolas had undressed her here, with care, in the bedroom. Scooping them up, she hurried into the bathroom, where she climbed into the shower. Five minutes later, she was out, dried and dressed.

That was another thing mothers learned to do: be quick.

Having rinsed her mouth out with cold water, she was finger-combing her hair into place when the bathroom door opened and there stood Nicolas in all his naked glory.




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