Seducing Phoebe (Crimson Romance) (8 page)

He threw back his head and laughed before leaning in and dropping a quick kiss on her lips. She almost leaned forward to make the contact last longer but pulled back. “I like it when you joke, you should do it more often.”

He didn’t wait for a comment, but turned and walked back into the house, whistling softly under his breath. She thought about what he’d said. She hadn’t joked around with him much — she’d never thought he would appreciate it. She was always known at the hospital as the resident comedian, but sometimes joking was the only way to cope when things got dark with emergency after emergency after emergency.

It was something she’d done as a kid too, when things had got bad at home. It was easier to joke about why the power was out than face the fact that her mum and dad had thought it was a great time to go on vacation and forget to pay the electricity bill while leaving her home alone. Only Sophie and Phoebe’s neighbor Mrs. White had known the truth. It was Adele White who had taken her in when her parents had thought deep-cave diving was a good adventure to try, and it turned out to be deadly instead of fun. Phoebe shuddered and pushed the thought of her parents’ untimely death aside. And thoughts of Mrs. White — they were still too raw to deal with. She’d hated that she hadn’t been able to go to her funeral. To say a final goodbye. Not that she was positive Adele White would’ve wanted her there, after all.

She sipped her wine, wishing her troubled thoughts away into the ocean with the waves as they retreated.

“Everything okay?” Marco’s quiet voice drifted over to her. She turned her head to the side and saw him sitting in a chair on the deck.

She mustered up a smile that she really didn’t feel. “Fine, just enjoying the quiet of the night.” She glanced around the deck, sniffing to see if the scent of grilling meat was in the air. All she smelled was the ocean. “I don’t smell anything cooking.”

“I was about to start but I didn’t want to disturb you. You seemed so very far away.”

“Nope, I was standing right here, so how about you impress me with your culinary skills and get cooking. I’m getting hungry.”

She withstood his gaze, sure he was going to press her to find out what she had been thinking about. But as if realizing he wouldn’t get very far questioning her about her thoughts, he rose elegantly from the chair and went into the kitchen.

The breath whooshed out of her — she wasn’t sure she was ready to share everything with Marco yet. It was funny — she’d told him all the dirty details about her relationship to John, but had only touched on her childhood and her parents with him. Neither one of them had discussed their upbringing. It seemed strange that she now just realized that. It was like by keeping a part of her away from him, she was creating a distance so that he couldn’t hurt her. It didn’t seem right, considering they’d been about to get married. There should’ve been nothing between them, but apparently they were very good at keeping secrets.

Then again, when she’d been in his arms she had always lost her ability to think. All she had done was feel. Everything involving her past had faded to nothing and she had only been able to concentrate on how Marco had made her body come alive. Physical connection was a major part of relationships, but emotional connection was even more important. Perhaps in order to move on and see if there was more than just a physical connection between her and Marco, she had to share the dirty secrets of her childhood — only how would he react when she revealed her past to him? When she revealed that she’d been keeping that part of her from him. He already said he didn’t like liars — would he see her as being a liar? And if so, what would happen then? Would he still want her?

Phoebe placed the spoon back in the bowl, feeling sufficiently full.

“Well? Do my culinary skills pass your test?” Marco asked as he stood and collected their dessert bowls.

“Depends — do you expect me to do the dishes?”

“I think I can manage to put a few plates, bowls, and utensils into the dishwasher.”

“Excellent. You’ll make a good husband for someone one of these days.” The moment Phoebe uttered the words she wanted to gobble them back up. How could she have said something like that?

“You had me.” He threw the words over his shoulder as he walked away, her eyes tracking the steps and noticing the rigidness of his back. They had been so relaxed with each other over dinner, discussing topics that wouldn’t cause any tenseness between them. He’d told her about his client meeting and the far-fetched idea his client had had with regards to the design of the building. She didn’t have a lot to contribute about what she’d been doing because he knew where she’d been the last few days.

The evening had been one of the nicest ones they’d ever spent together. Just the two of them. Alone. Not at some crowded restaurant. Not at a fundraiser event for a charity that Marco donated to. Most of the times when it had been the two of them, it had been after an evening out, and then they were usually too busy exploring each other’s bodies to think about talking.

But tonight had been different — better. And then with one careless sentence she’d ruined the evening.

“Coffee?”

She jumped because she hadn’t heard Marco come back out onto the deck. “Uhh, no thanks, but if you want one that’s fine.”

By saying that, she’d all but told him that she didn’t want the evening to end, and she didn’t.

“No, I don’t think I will.”

Disappointment flooded through her. He was going to leave. She stood up, not sure what to say or do.

“Do you want to take a walk along the beach?” At his suggestion the disappointment lifted. Perhaps he didn’t want to leave after all.

“Sure, that sounds great,” she said. “Let me grab a jacket and a flashlight in case we need it.” The moon had risen but it never hurt to be careful.

Phoebe rushed inside, grabbed her jacket, and opened and closed a couple of drawers and cupboards before she found the flashlight.

She went back out to where Marco was leaning against the railing of the balcony. His forearms were resting against the top balustrade and he had loosely clasped his hands in front of him. She wanted to walk over and hook her arm through his and lay her head on his shoulder. Just the two of them standing there, comfortable with each other, no words needing to be spoken.

As if sensing her behind him Marco turned and for a moment she thought she saw sadness in his eyes, but in a flash it was gone and she wondered whether she’d imagined seeing it.

“Ready?” he asked and held out a hand towards her. She placed her hand in his and with a small squeeze they started down the steps towards the quiet beach.

They crossed the soft sand silently until they reached the hard wet sand signaling the place the waves had rolled to earlier. It was low tide and there was no chance that the waves would wash up to where they were walking.

“I’m sorry.” The words whispered out of her and she had no idea where they’d come from. She certainly hadn’t been thinking of saying sorry, but now she was glad she had.

“Sorry for what?”

“For everything,” she said simply, and it was true. She was sorry that she had caused him pain. “For what I’ve put you through.”

He gave a shrug of his shoulders as if her breaking their engagement was a trivial thing. Not an event that caused upheaval not for only for them, but for their friends and for the places and services they had booked. “You did what you thought you had to do.”

It was the last thing she expected to come out of his mouth. She pulled up short and pulled her hand out of his hold.

“What do you mean by that?”

“Exactly that. You did what you thought you had to do. You thought you had to break off the engagement and so you did. Can’t say I agree with it, but it is what it is.”

A hollow feeling filled the pit of her stomach. Was he saying he was accepting her decision and this was it? Nothing more to be said or done.

“What about all your declarations of earlier in the night? Where you said you weren’t giving up on us? That you weren’t like John and would not walk away” She wanted to stamp her foot, surprised at how hurt she really felt. “Was that all lip service, Marco? Was it all just a lie?”

If he was surprised by her outburst he didn’t show it. She threw the last bit at him, as she knew he didn’t like liars and probably wouldn’t like to be called out as one.

“No, it wasn’t a lie. I meant every word of it. But the fact remains you felt you needed to end our engagement.”

“So what happens now? Are you going to leave?” She huddled further in her jacket, putting her hands in her pockets so as not to reach out and beg him not to leave. Which was such an irrational thought, when all she’d wanted from the moment he turned up was for him to leave.

“No, I’m not going anywhere.” He reached out and pulled her hands from her pockets and tugged her closer. “But I do have an idea.”

She was almost too afraid to ask what his idea was, but if it involved staying in his embrace for a little longer, she’d take it. “Do I want to know what this idea is?”

“I think we should start over.”

“Start over?” Phoebe knew she was sounding like a parrot, repeating everything he was saying. “What exactly does that entail?”

“That we start our relationship over. We can look on tonight as a first date.”

“How can it be a first date when just last week we were engaged? You’re not making any sense.”

He started walking again, and as he still had hold of her hand, she had no choice but to follow. He was leading her back to the house. They hadn’t gone very far with their walk. It almost represented their relationship — they only went a short distance before stopping. And now Marco wanted to start over. How was that going to help anything?

“You said you felt you got caught up in everything that was happening around you. That you didn’t feel in control, and that you didn’t know me. What I’m suggesting is that we start again and get to know each other. I know what I want, and I want you.”

She couldn’t fault his logic. It made some sort of sense to her, but the reason she’d come to this beach house was to think for herself. To get her mind sorted about what she wanted. To sort out what she really felt for Marco. How was she supposed to do that if he was constantly in her presence? She was afraid that after a couple of “dates” she’d be all ready to ring back the wedding planner and tell her to rebook all that she’d cancelled.

The last thing she wanted was any regrets, and if she didn’t stand her ground and didn’t do what was right for her, she’d end up lost.

“I’m not sure if it’s the right thing for me though.” She spoke softly, hoping that it would take some of the sting out of what she was saying. She was rejecting him again. Like she had when she’d handed back his ring.

“I think it is. I think it’s the right thing for us.”

“How can it possibly be the right thing for us?”

“Because we have this.” Marco pulled her close and lowered his lips to hers. His touch wasn’t gentle, like the other kisses they’d shared since he’d turned up. This kiss was full of passion and it filled her soul. She moaned under the onslaught of his mouth on hers. His hand slipped under her jacket and caressed her back before sliding around to her breasts that were aching for his touch.

Her knees buckled and together they fell to the soft sand. She didn’t care that she was going to get sand in her clothes and hair. All she cared about was feeling the heavy weight of Marco on top of her, his fingers stroking her breasts in soft, circular motions. She shifted her hips and came in contact with his hard length. She shivered as she remembered all the times they’d made love, the way Marco had been able to make her body come alive with his every touch. She reached down and grabbed his buttocks, pulling him into closer contact with her. It was madness. It was the last thing she should do but she wanted him. She wanted him to take her on the beach where no one could see them.

In the next instant she found herself free of Marco’s weight. She slowly opened her eyes and saw the stars shining brightly down. Looking to her left she saw Marco sprawled out on the sand, with one arm flung over his eyes, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he was trying to get his breath back. From the way he looked, Phoebe was consumed with doubts that the feelings from the kiss had been one sided.

“Are you okay?” she asked as she sat up and brushed the sand from her hair.

“Yes.” His reply was muffled. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for the kiss to get so out of hand.”

Neither did she, but she couldn’t deny that she did enjoy being in his arms. Or that she’d enjoyed every encounter they’d had since he’d shown up that morning.

What would she have done if John had been the one to turn up, instead of Marco? The thought sent a shiver coursing through her. No, she wouldn’t have been happy to see him at all. The night John had left her place, she had been glad to see the back of him. He had acted all creepy, and she hadn’t liked it one little bit. She knew that she wouldn’t contemplate a relationship again with John, but his reemergence in her life
had
made her take a good look at the relationship she and Marco had shared — and she had found it wanting.

Now he was here, wanting to start over with her again. Could she do it? Could she let herself go and give one hundred percent to the relationship? She was still too scared. What if, this time, it was Marco who decided to end things? That after taking it slow and spending time and getting to know all of her little secrets, what if he, like John, found her lacking and walked away? As Sophie said, she would see him at any of the get-togethers they would have for Louisa. What would it feel like to see him turn up with another woman on his arm? To see him kiss her, laugh with her. Phoebe thought it might cripple her to see him with another woman.

There’s your answer then
,
the little insidious voice inside of her head taunted her.

“Is it really that hard to accept my apology?”

Marco’s voice was close by her ear and as she turned, her cheek almost connected with his lips. She could smell the slight tang of his aftershave and it felt comforting.