She shook her head. "No, never." Except I fell in love with you, and I couldn't get more reckless than that!
"Perhaps you should try it." He took her coffee from her and pulled her close, circling one arm around her shoulders and twining his fingers in her hair. Slowly, his mouth met hers and he whispered her name against her lips before kissing her oh-so-gently, his breath hitching as the kiss deepened.
Laura twined her arms around his neck and pressed close. Don't do this! her common sense screamed at her. It will only make it worse when he goes! But that voice of reason was drowned out by the longing that swamped her and drove her on until she could barely breathe.
"We agreed to be just friends," she reminded him.
Daniel ran his mouth down her neck to her throat, until she thought the pulse there would beat right out of her skin. "Agreements get broken. It happens in business all the time."
"But this isn't business!" she protested feebly.
"You're right, it isn't. Shut up." His mouth met hers again to perform the task, and she did as she was told. She couldn't do any other. She couldn't speak; she couldn't think. His kisses blocked out all rational thought.
Finally, he pulled away, shaking his head as though to clear it.
"What's wrong?"
He planted a light kiss on her nose and inclined his head towards a couple walking hand in hand down the nearby road. He must have heard their footsteps and for modesty's sake broken their kiss—although how he'd heard anything if his heartbeat was thumping as loud in his ears as Laura's was in hers, she had no idea.
"Time to go," he said quietly.
Laura nodded and allowed him to pull her to her feet. They packed up the picnic things and took everything to the car. She had no idea what had just happened. Had he broken their kiss because they had company? Or because he was already regretting it? Her head spun, swamped with conflicting feelings. This was the man she loved, but he didn't love her back. All she had to take home with her was the memory of a few kisses, to dust off from time to time when she was back in the routine of her own life.
The drive back was silent, and when they had parked and walked down to their rooms, he stared at her for a long time before taking her face in his hands for one last, lingering kiss. When he pulled away, the regret was clear in his eyes.
"Laura, I'm going to say goodnight."
A small sound of distress escaped from her throat, and she closed her eyes as she fought for control.
Daniel swore softly. "Laura, look at me."
Obediently she opened her eyes, willing the gathering tears not to fall in front of him. Daniel seemed to be fighting his own battles as he searched for the right words.
"There is nothing I would like more than to invite you into my room tonight," he told her. "But I'm not going to. I don't want you to be a one-night stand. It wouldn't be fair on you." He smiled wryly. "Or on me, actually. You and I have become good friends—finally. I don't want to spoil that." He ran his hands over tired eyes. "You deserve something more. You're kind and loyal and you should be with someone special. Someone who might be around for more than five minutes at a time. I couldn't be that person even if I wanted to be."
He traced his thumb across her cheek, placed a gentle kiss on her forehead, and went into his room, closing the door softly behind him.
Laura stood for a long time, shivering, until she realised she was still wearing Daniel's sweater. Hugging it close, she let herself into her own room and sat on the edge of the bed, numb with misery. Daniel's parting words had been kind and tender, his intentions admirable, but they still boiled down to a rejection.
The tears that had threatened outside were unstoppable now. Laura sobbed until she was exhausted enough to sleep.
****
Woken by the shrill sound of her alarm clock, she struggled to open her eyes. For a moment, her mind remained happily ignorant of yesterday's dramas. For a moment. And then it cruelly replayed the day on fast-forward. Arguments, recriminations. The knowledge she was in love with a man who had no intention of being in love with anyone. Reconciliation. A farewell kiss.
She shuffled to the door and glanced up the path to the car park, but the sinking feeling that had pervaded her whole body as she woke had already told her what she would see. Daniel's car was gone, and Laura knew he wouldn't be coming back.
Feeling lonelier than she had ever felt in her life, she headed for the bathroom. Shocked at the miserable image that stared back at her from the mirror, she forced herself to shower and dress, and carefully applied more makeup than usual to mask her swollen eyes and tear-stained face.
And then she straightened her spine. There would be no more tears. What was the use of crying over a man who didn't care for her the way she cared for him?
When she reached reception, a large bunch of roses rested on the doorstep. Where they could have come from at this hour, she had no idea. Carrying them inside and placing them on the desk, she opened the accompanying card with shaking fingers.
"I'm not avoiding you—honest. I have a meeting in Porto. Besides, I'm no good at goodbyes. Daniel."
Laura stared at the note until the words blurred through the tears pricking at her eyes. So, he had a valid excuse for his early departure, but what did that mean, he was "no good at goodbyes"? Was there a chance he found it painful to say goodbye to her? Or did he only mean it was an embarrassing situation, best avoided? She would
