Part 48 (1/2)

Elliot pulls me back against his chest and gently rests his chin a-top my head, laying a comforting hand around the back of my neck. And then I feel him kiss my hair, just once in that, 'It's going to be okay, I'll make it okay' way.

I close my eyes and surrender to the moment. I don't want to worry about the B&B now. I just want to dance.

For two more songs I remain pressed to his body, moving in perfect unison, feeling closer than ever. Wanting him more than ever. From my fingertips to my toes I tell him so, without saying a word. He pulls me closer still. He can hear me. At last he can hear me, I just know it.

Suddenly I feel the floorboards give way to carpet, then paving, then gravel.

Tentatively I open my eyes and look around me. We're outside, sheltering under a magnolia tree. At first I think the waxy blooms have been laced with fairy lights but then I realize it's the stars peeking through. We've entered our own magic kingdom.

'You danced us right off the dance floor!' I smile, inhaling the sweet perfume.

'Yes I did,' Elliot says solemnly.

I take in the new look on his face. 'Why?' I say huskily.

He looks straight into my eyes. 'I wanted to see how it would feel if it was just you and me.'

My heart pounds and I feel light-headed.

'And how does it feel?' I venture.

He answers with a kiss his mouth meeting mine in the most tender, rapturous, generous caress. As I respond he clasps me to him with such a pa.s.sion I'm catapulted to a place of blissful abandon. I want to kiss him forever. My fingers tangle with his hair and he emits the gentlest murmur of pleasure, sending me spiraling in a whirlpool of desire and adoration.

And yet something pulls me back, gulping for air. 'What about Elise?' I gasp, summoning all my restraint to lean away from his beautiful mouth.

Elliot freezes for a moment. 'Elise?' he repeats, as if he doesn't know who I mean. Then he hangs his head and pinches his brow, expelling a desperate moan.

'I can't do this while she ... if you're ...' I stumble.

Where are these words coming from? Why is it me summoning her up? Me, spoiling the most exquisite interplay?

Elliot lifts his head. 'You're right.'

Am I? I feel sick, suddenly terrified that I've cut short the kiss too soon, before he could really feel all that he could feel for me.

'Okay,' he puffs, straightening up and seemingly steeling himself. 'Here I go!'

Then he turns and runs up the hill, on a direct path for Jungle Rock.

I blink in disbelief. Here I go? I look around me wondering, what just happened. Here I go back to my fiancee or Here I go to break off the engagement so I can be with you? Which is it?

'Elliot!' I call into the night but there's no reply.

Why did I speak and ruin the moment?

Because I don't want to be a kiss on the side. Because with me it's all or nothing. Because just me is enough. That's why.

I listen for sounds of Elise hurling artifacts around. Nothing. I can't see her getting dumped quietly. This doesn't bode well. Maybe he can't wake her up. Maybe he's just pressing a pillow over her face.

'There you are!' Helen appears by my side, along with a worse-for-wear Zo and Sasha. 'We thought you and Elliot might have snuck off for a snog you were so melded together on the dance floor!'

Before my face can give the game away Zo asks, 'Where is he, anyway?'

I wave my arm towards his room.

'Is he coming back?'

'I don't know.'

'Lara, you're looking weird, I think we'd better get you to bed,' Helen a.s.serts.

'I've just been sick,' Zo confides.

'I feel fine,' Sasha shrugs. 'I might stay for one more.' She goes to turn back but promptly trips down a ditch running alongside the paddock.

Helen hoiks her out, dusts her off and issues the following instruction: 'Bed. Now. All of you!'

'To sleep,' I mutter to myself as we mount the spiral staircase. 'Perchance to lie awake all night wondering whether the morning will bring a dream come true or just a near miss...

Chapter 35.

The digital clock glows red numerals at me in the blackness: 4.30am.

Too early to get a verdict from Elliot. My thoughts flip to the B&B 12.30pm in England right now. I wonder if Mum's signed anything yet. Not going to think about it. Go back to sleep.

Thirsty. Need a drink.

Returning from the bathroom, gla.s.s in one hand, I feel my way around the bed with the other.

'Sorry!' I whisper to Helen as I thwack my leg on the bed frame and then jiggle the wooden headboard as I climb in.

No reply.

I prop myself up, sipping my water and wondering how long it's going to take me get back to sleep. Gradually my eyes adjust to the darkness. I look over at Helen, or at least where Helen was when I last saw her. Unless she's been run over by a steamroller in the night, she's no longer in bed with me.

Feeling for the bedside lamp, I spike myself on the gold thorns twisting around its stem. And then there was light! Yup, definitely a vacancy in this bed. I throw back the covers and inspect every nook, drawer and balcony. She's nowhere to be found. I'm not quite sure what to do next with all the spiral staircases and hidden rock corridors this is not the place to go sleepwalking. There must be some other explanation. I suppose she could have gone for a walk. Maybe she couldn't sleep. Maybe she's taken up smoking. Maybe this is all a dream? Perhaps if I turn off the light and close my eyes the universe will realign itself and she'll reappear.

I settle back down and switch off the light. The next thing I know it's 6.57am. Slowly I extend my leg and feel for Helen with my foot. When I reach the other edge of the mattress encountering no obstacles I know the situation hasn't changed. She's still gone. It's three hours until we're due to meet for breakfast but I know I'm not going to get back to sleep now. And then it dawns on me she's probably gone surfing: 4.30am seems kind of early to set off but that's the kind of dedication you need, I presume.

Glugging back the remains of my water, I go for a refill. Until now, I hadn't noticed that the flowers on the bathroom wallpaper are actual embroidery. I run a finger along the st.i.tching, then catch sight of myself in the mirror. My disheveled, black-eyed face is the last thing you'd expect to see framed by pretty pink enamel dog roses and lovebirds. Something must be done.

After a quick shower and spruce (including discovering that Helen's orange hooded top gives my skin a much-needed reflective glow) my stomach demands sustenance. I remind it that we're having a big pig-out with everyone at 10am but it's insistent, so we come to a compromise on a slice of peach pie and a cinnamon spice tea. See how I'm not freaking out about Elliot? I'm thirty now. A grown woman. If I just concentrate on the pie, I'll be fine. Besides, what harm can befall me in a place with Heidi waitresses?

The Copper Cafe is a-bustle with young girls in white puff sleeves pouring piping hot coffee. When they offer a splash of milk I have no doubt they're getting it from the cows with their own fair hands.

I take a seat at the horseshoe bar where Amoret takes my order and fills my gla.s.s goblet with iced water. I notice that every place-setting around me has a different colored goblet amber, aquamarine, ruby, baby pink and what can only be described as urine yellow.