Love By Moonlight: A Small Town Grumpy Sunshine Romance (Solhaven Forevers Book 2)
Love By Moonlight: Chapter 15

‘I only want to talk,’ he repeated, shaking his head, removing his hands, and stepping back. Anguish filled his voice. ‘You need to know why I’m like this, why I’m so frightened to let myself love you, even though I want to. It started with my mother. She only wanted to socialise, and she was a self-centred woman. Not interested in her husband or me.’

Daniel half-turned away from Claire. He felt shame and anger, but this time, he was determined to explain. ‘My wife—my ex-wife—completed what my mother began, and finished me. I lost my self-respect… my ability to trust and to love, too. It took Gina a few years, several lovers and quite a few cruel taunts, and it was slow and very painful. A couple of weeks ago, she came back to our house—my house. I was an idiot. I’d not changed the locks, you see. She came with yet another of her lovers, and she was pregnant. It was impossible for me to stay because of what she’d done to me. Which is why I came here.’

His eyes dropped, and he rubbed his hands over his face. ‘I’d been getting over her. Re-finding myself, I suppose. But her turning up like that, so callous, so fucking arrogant in the way she expected me to just roll over and let her stay—she sent me over the edge again. And there’s more, but I can’t—I still can’t—bring myself to tell you the full extent of what she did. There was a baby…’

He heard the sharp intake of her breath, saw the unshed tears in her eyes, felt the gentleness of her touch as she laid her hand on his arm.

‘Daniel, how terrible for you,’ she murmured, her voice full of anguished tenderness.

There it was again—her complete understanding, her sympathy, her compassion. No recriminations about Louise. He wasn’t ready to form a new relationship, but she undermined all his vows to keep away from her. He didn’t think he could take any more, and yet… what if?

Those two brief words were like a beam of light in the darkness that filled his mind.

What if?

He continued his explanation. ‘Then I met you. So lovely. So honest. So brave. But don’t you see? I’ve lost all my confidence. I don’t feel as if I can ever trust another woman again. That’s what they’ve done, between them. I’d nearly sorted myself out, but she returned, and brought it all back. All those stupid feelings of not being worthy. I need to find myself again and then maybe… maybe…’ He closed his eyes and breathed deeply, fists clenched by his side. Logically, he knew there were kinder women in the world than his mother and his ex-wife, but his faith had been shaken too many times.

After their divorce, and because of what had happened with the baby, he’d been in such a mess he’d gone to a counsellor. The man had clarified everything for him. Gina was a similar type to his mother, and he’d subconsciously been looking for love and approval from her and missed the warning signs. Because of his experiences as a child, and with Gina, yes, he had trust issues, maybe even difficulty in expressing his love. The man had helped him enormously, had told him he’d heal and to give himself time and avoid any sort of deep relationship until he felt he’d regained his equilibrium. He’d warned him it would be gradual, and not to force things.

‘You have to know this—I’ve been under the care of a counsellor for six months. He told me to give myself time to heal.’

He stood with his head bowed, wondering what her response would be to his confession of being unable to manage his feelings alone.

Her hands slid up his arms and round the back of his neck as she tugged him gently towards her.

His eyes flew open.

That was her response?

He came towards her as if walking through water, his gaze fixed on hers.

Claire pulled his head down, and all he could see was tenderness and sorrow filling her face. Unable to help himself, an explosion of relief bursting through him, as his mouth accepted her kiss of compassion and comfort.

And he was the one who changed it.

His lips were soft and warm as they searched, learning the taste, the shape, of her mouth. His tongue sought entry and caressed hers with slow intimacy. The only other contact between them was her hands, the feel of her warm fingers on his nape.

He drew back and looked questioningly into her eyes before moving into another slow, sensuous kiss that filled him, sang to him, dazzled him, as he lifted his hands to smooth them along her jaw, her cheeks, finally settling on her shoulders, gentle as a butterfly’s touch.

Now he was kissing her, he thrust the firmly avowed intention just to talk to the back of his mind. It was impossible to draw back, impossible to stop the storm engulfing him. Inside, he was humming with joy and desire. He felt anxiety as well, but for now, his apprehension was over-ridden by the sensuousness of his feelings, the rising heat of his body, an overwhelming desire to give, to pleasure her… worship her.

He needed her sweetness, her gentleness, her kindness, her love! They’d already started to heal him, for otherwise he would never have poured out his shame and bitterness. They could talk tomorrow… and tomorrow, as they said, was another day. At the moment, there was only Claire…

She was responding to him freely—responding to the passion he was creating simply with his lips and tongue. She trembled and arched her head back as his mouth trailed over her throat and his head lowered to her breasts, his breath warm on the skin at the opening of her shirt.

‘Take it off?’ he beseeched.

He saw her hands shaking as she reached for the buttons, fumbling with the simple action needed to release button from button-hole.

His hands took over. They slid from her shoulders, over her breasts, and closed over hers, pushing them gently out of the way. Their eyes remained locked as he slowly and deliberately undid button after button. When, finally, her shirt hung open, he swept it off her shoulders in one fluid movement before bending his dark head to the swell of her breasts, his hands impatient as they reached behind her to free the clasp of her bra.

Claire whimpered deep in her throat. She tried to reach for him but he gently lowered her hands back to her sides, all the while his mouth searching her body, kissing her, his lips tenderly teasing her as he caressed with knowing hands, featherlight on her back, her sides, dipping gently, sensuously, into the waistband of her jeans. Then he took her hand and led her inside and up the stairs to the bedroom.

‘Daniel… Daniel, please…’ Claire pleaded weakly, her hands sliding down his back as she pulled him nearer. Jeans and his shirt were abandoned. No problem now with an erection—his relief as she freed him was considerable. They sank onto the bed, his hands gentle on the satin of her thighs, continuing his delicate touches as she clung to his shoulders. He cupped her jaw in his hands, caressed her face with his lips, inhaling the uniqueness of her smell, her shampoo, all female, all the while murmuring, kissing, as he swept her along. His fingers slipped inside and found her hot, wet centre, caressing it until he felt her muscles tense, felt her hover and, finally, felt her arch against him, closing round his fingers, crying out his name. He was aware of the tremor of her aftershocks and held himself back for a few moments, an overwhelming awe sweeping through him, knowing he had caused this ecstasy, and she was so beautiful to see, as her orgasm overwhelmed her.

But a few moments were all before Daniel slid deep into her warmth, his hands still caressing, still causing Claire to writhe and beg, as his mouth sought her lips, her eyelids, her jaw, the delicate shell of her ear, as he whispered words of love.

He stilled, and raised his head, his eyes wide.

Finally, finally, he knew he’d come home.

His throat closed, and like a blazing fire, warmth exploded in his chest, as his eyes blurred with unshed tears of joy. In this moment, he worshipped her body, her spirit, her mind. He moved again, his thrusts starting with slow anticipatory pleasure before becoming deeper and more rapid until, with an inarticulate shout, he shuddered to a climax, laying claim to her body, his sheer exuberant bliss overwhelming him with ecstasy. Looking at her with eyes full of sunshine breaking through the grey, he touched his lips to hers, a gentle kiss of thanks, a tender offering made to the very centre of her being, before dropping his head to rest on her soft breasts. Claire’s arms slid up to cradle his head, as they both lay sated and exhausted in the aftermath.

Time passed. Daniel stirred. Without speaking, he rolled onto his side and took Claire in his arms, gazing at her, knowing he had something to give after all. He could give her friendship, yes, they’d already proved that, but he could also give her love and pleasure. Revering her body, he kissed her, stroked his fingers over her breasts and let his hands tantalise every part of her. Her response was immediate as she clung to him, her fingers moving over him as surely as his moved over hers. His mouth caused more sweet chaos as he trailed his searching lips over her neck, then moved lower, to seek her breasts, before returning to take possession of her mouth with an intensity that caused every part of his body to weaken as his desire suffused him. The second climax was as fulfilling as the first and finally, exhausted, their bodies slicked with sweat, limbs tangled in languorous satisfaction, they slept. Sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ FindNʘᴠᴇl.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

It was in the cold light of early dawn, when Daniel awoke, and turned to look at the sleeping face on the pillow next to him, that the enormity of what had happened struck him, and panic set it.

Why had he done this?

Last night, he hadn’t planned for it. He’d only intended to explain, with as little detail as possible, about his ex-wife. But Claire’s sympathy had blazed from her eyes and then there had been that kiss.

That one, tender kiss.

He didn’t think she’d intended it to be passionate—more one of love and sympathy for his pain—but it’d been his undoing

And this morning, Daniel’s apprehension returned in full force.

No-one could live with the self-doubts he would bring to a relationship, no matter how hard he tried not to. He had to go off to America soon, and he didn’t think he’d be able to leave Claire without wondering what she was doing the whole time he was away. He’d be distracted by suspicion.

Daniel dropped his head into his hands, overwhelmed. He wasn’t ready. His trust had been shattered into a million pieces and he’d not yet put it back together. Until he did, he was spoiled goods.

It would be better if he went now. He could take the memory of last night with him, fresh and whole in his mind. Claire would get over him in a few weeks.

But what if she didn’t… what if she waited for him?

What if?

Was there hope for him?

Hope for them in some not-too-distant future?

Ah, yes, indeed… what if?

Slipping from the bed, Daniel hastily showered before finding his abandoned clothes and dressing, all the time berating himself. When Claire had kissed him so gently, he should have pulled back, seen it for what, initially, it was—a kiss of support and caring. He should have told her to go up to the hostel.

But now?

He had to go.

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