Her love.
Her Nick.
Her body took rhythm from his. He was reaching so deep inside her, to the point where love and desire and need melted into one and she felt as if she were dissolving, dissolving, flying.
The night and the moonlight and the sounds of the sea, the grief of the day, the shock of the night, the luxury of this bed, the feel of this man’s body… There was no separate sensation. No separate thought.
There was only her love.
And when finally they lay back, exhausted, as his arms cradled her and she moulded to his body and she felt his heartbeat, she knew her safe haven-her home-was much more than it had ever seemed.
Nick wanted to marry her. It was a tiny thought at the edge of all the consciousness she had left, but it felt lovely.
Their bodies could merge over and over. She could lie with this man for the rest of her life. She could help him raise his son, a little boy she loved already.
Wife and mother…
It felt… It felt…
‘Like a miracle,’ Nick said and he kissed her softly, languorously, lovingly. ‘My Misty. At last I’ve come safe home.’ Safe home.
They were the last words she heard as she drifted into sleep.
Safe home.
CHAPTER TEN
MISTY stirred, stretched, opened her eyes. Sunbeams were streaming through the windows, falling across the rainbow quilt on the bed. Morning?
She’d slept spooned in the curve of Nick’s body. Now she could no longer feel him. Oh, but she was so warm. Sated. She rolled over to find him. The grief she’d felt for Gran had eased, backed off, taken its rightful place. She was no longer bereft and grey. Nick…
Nick’s side of the bed was empty.
The bedside clock said ten. What was she thinking? Her mother had to be faced. Life had to be faced.
Was Nick out there, facing it for her?
She showered fast, in Nick’s bathroom because she didn’t want to be caught by her mother, tousled by sleep, fresh from lovemaking. Besides, she liked the smell of Nick’s soap. It smelled like Nick. Of course it did. So much for distinctive aroma, she thought wryly. Lemon grass? She’d thought it was testosterone.
She chuckled. Feeling absurdly happy even though Grace was out there-and that was a scary thought-she twisted a towel round her hair, donned Nick’s dressing gown-a gorgeous crimson robe that looked as if it had come from somewhere exotic-of course it had come from somewhere exotic-and scuttled along the passage, through to the other side of the house to find fresh clothes.
And then she paused. There were voices coming from the kitchen. Her mother. Nick.
She should dress before she faced her mother, but…
She hesitated. The kitchen door was almost closed, but not quite. If she stood silent, she could hear every word.
Why would she want to?
She did.
‘How much?’ It was Nick’s voice, but it was a tone she hadn’t heard before. He sounded harsh and angry, trying, she thought, for control.
And her mother named a sum that made her gasp.
What the…? They were discussing…
She knew suddenly, definitely, what they were discussing. Selling her house.
‘It’s Misty’s home,’ Nick said. ‘Her grandmother left it to her.’
‘Misty’s grandmother was my mother. This house is my right. I’ll take her to court if I must but I won’t need to. Misty will do the right thing. She always has.’
‘You mean you expect her to walk away and leave you to do what you want?’
‘I mean she’ll do what’s expected of her.’ Her mother sounded scornful. ‘You don’t know her father. I did. He was a doormat. Misty’s the same. Useful, though. She’s kept this place looking great.’ She could almost sense Grace assessing the place, looking around at the warm wood, at the lovely old furnishings. ‘It’ll get a good price. Much more than you’re offering. So tell me again why I should accept?’
‘Because Misty and I wish to live here. It’s our home.’
‘You’re marrying her?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, good for you. So buy it outright. Give me market value. Save your wife the nasty business of the courts. That’d upset her, fighting me in the courts.’
‘It would or I wouldn’t suggest it,’ Nick snapped. ‘You know she’s a soft option. She’s had no experience of the real world.’
‘Then pay,’ her mother said harshly. ‘Of course you can’t expose her to the courts. My mother always said she had to be protected. Don’t tell her about what you’re doing,’ she said. ‘It’ll upset her. And here you are, ready to keep on keeping her safe. Excellent. Nasty thing, reality.’
‘I’ll get an independent valuation…’
‘You’ll take my price or I’ll see Misty in court.’
She almost burst in on them then. Almost. Right at the last, she pulled back.
Last night hadn’t been about keeping her safe. Last night had been about loving her, pure and simple.
Did loving involve keeping her safe?
Last night she’d been so sure, but now…
Standing in the passage, listening to her mother produce valuations of like properties, listening to Nick become reasonable, as if what her mother was suggesting was reasonable, suddenly certainty gave way to doubt.
Nick was doing this to protect her. She knew it. So why did it seem so wrong?
Her mother’s words…
Anger came to her aid then. She was no doormat. How could Nick simply accept that as fact?
Nick wasn’t going to pay for her house. Hard cold fact. She could go in there right now and tell him so. But something inside her was saying,
She backed out of the passage, out of the back door to the veranda. Ketchup and Took were out there in the morning sun, supervising the sea. She sank down beside them and they nosed her hands and wagged their tails.
‘Why aren’t you in there biting my mother?’ she whispered. ‘Dogs are supposed to protect their masters.’
But the dogs weren’t in the kitchen because they’d found each other. Their security was each other.
As her security was Nick?
The dogs had had their adventures. They’d come home.
They weren’t doormats.
Nick had had his adventures. Even Bailey…
Even her grandmother, never telling her she’d been to Paris because Misty had to be protected. Protected from herself?
There was a huge muddle of emotion in her mind but it was getting clearer. She stared out over the bay she’d
