No, it wasn’t, was it... I force my eyes back to his. ‘Then what did you mean?’
‘I want to know if he too lived every second like it was his last?’
My heart pangs inside my chest, his words cutting deep. He knows it too. I can see it in the way his eyes soften, the apology there even as he asks it.
‘No.’ My voice is whisper-soft now. ‘Nathan wasn’t like this. I wasn’t like this. I used to be able to sleep. I used to be able to lie in my bed and enjoy just switching off.’
He nods as he listens to me and instead of finding his continued interest, concern even, aggravating, I find myself opening up. Hell, maybe it’s because my muscles are appeased from the workout. Maybe it’s because I feel ready to return to bed so long as he comes too. Maybe it’s just that I have his undivided attention and I’m actually revelling in it. Or maybe it finally feels good just to talk about it.
‘I wasn’t restless, not like this. And even when I was, a run, a swim, a good book, they were all things I could enjoy. But losing him...’ I shake my head. ‘He was older than me, natural order says I’d outlast him, but not this soon. He was sixty-four. No age. And one minute we were together, enjoying a meal, all was fine, and the next...’
‘What happened?’
I drag in a breath, lower my gaze to his arms and notice the goosebumps prickling over his skin—he’s not invincible then. Or is he so focused on me he hasn’t even noticed? The idea makes me shiver. ‘You’re cold.’
‘I’m fine.’
‘You’re not.’
‘Are you always so evasive?’
‘I’m not.’
‘Argumentative then?’
My lips quirk, as do his, and I see the hint of laughter in his eyes. I take another breath and think about his question, let it in and the pain too. We may have had a relationship that...that lacked in some ways. But I loved him. Loved him for a long time and he was my constant. My rock. And what happened was unexpected, frightening even. To be here one minute and the next...
He reaches down and cups my face, his thumb soft as he strokes it across my cheek and my lips tremble. That’s when I realise I’m crying, that the moisture on my skin isn’t all from the pool.
‘You must know what happened,’ I shudder out. ‘The media covered it enough. It was a heart attack. Sudden. Unexpected. We were at dinner with friends. Relaxed. Happy. And then...’
‘I know what the media disclosed, but you and I both know they aren’t always to be believed.’
‘Well, in this case they were right.’
I pull away from his touch, dip beneath the water and throw the sensation off. I’ve cried enough, suffered enough. And I’ve shared plenty. I don’t owe him more. I don’t really owe him what I’ve already disclosed.
And yet you did it anyway...
I emerge, ignoring the curious little voice inside as my eyes clash with his. ‘Can we not do this right now?’
‘I think it might help you to talk about it.’
‘So everyone keeps telling me, but newsflash, I don’t want to talk about it, not now, not tomorrow, not the day after.’
He shakes his head, looks to his feet, his voice small as he says, ‘But what if I tell you that I—’
‘Please, Valentine.’ My gut rolls and I know I sound desperate, but I can’t go there, I don’t want to go there. I don’t want to relive it. ‘I’m not some child that you need to look after.’
‘I didn’t say you were.’
‘Then let it go, let’s not make this about more than it is. We’re having sex, great sex. And sex doesn’t warrant serious conversation. In fact, it spoils it.’
His eyes lock with mine and I sense the fight still there. A second’s hesitation. Two.
‘Do you really want to spoil it?’
‘No.’ He gives me a small smile as he rises up. ‘You want some company?’
‘In here?’ My brows lift. ‘You want to swim, in the middle of the night?’
‘And you’re looking at me like I’m the crazy one when you’re the one doing exactly that.’
I grin, giddy with relief, and I’m about to tell him I’m ready to get out when he hooks his fingers into the waistband of his briefs.
‘Unless you don’t want me skinny-dipping in your pool?’
‘I don’t have a problem...but my neighbours might.’
He spins and scans the terraces either side of mine and I laugh because no one can see anything. I laugh because he’s put me through the emotional wringer more than he can possibly know, and I’m light with the relief of being able to move on. I laugh because the truth is the garden has been well designed—by me—to provide privacy with its high walls, rambling climbers, trees and trellises.
It’s fun to watch his panicked moment though, especially with his briefs now halfway down his deliciously tight arse and, more importantly, blocking my view of Nathan’s seat.
‘Very funny.’ He shakes his head as he looks back to me and my retort dies on my lips because he’s yanking the briefs off completely and tossing them aside.
He launches himself in. His long, lithe body outstretched, his form perfect, his muscles accentuated by the lights that lift off the pool. He breaks the water with barely a splash, swims beneath it and doesn’t emerge until he’s at the other end, turning back towards me, his eyes alive with such mischief.
My heart skips a beat, trepidation sparking. ‘What? Why are you looking at me like that?’
‘Payback.’
‘Pay—what?’
But he’s gone, under the water and coming straight for me, a dark shadow and I’ve nowhere to go. The pool is long and thin, designed for lengths not shifting side to side, and then his hands are on my hips, his fingers rippling, tickling and I’m wriggling, trying not to squeal. Our neighbours might not be able to see, but they’d
