contrast in sensation between the breeze that swept around them and the heat of his mouth as he closed over her sent a piercing shaft of desire through her. As his tongue swirled over her, at first softly then with increasing pressure, she clutched at the blankets beneath her. Her thighs trembled, and her inner muscles clenched in rhythm with his onslaught until, with a scream that tore from her throat, she went hurtling over the edge.
Luc shifted and Belinda, too boneless to do anything but watch, lay before him—her legs splayed, her skin flushed with orgasm—as he pulled off his shirt and shucked off his jeans and briefs. There was a light in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. Framed by his short dark lashes, they gleamed with the heat of his need for her. A need that spiralled again within her, within seconds, as if she hadn’t just climaxed moments before. As he positioned himself between her thighs again, a tremor of anticipation shivered along her spine.
“My wife.” His voice was low pitched, almost guttural.
She could feel the heat of him, his blunt tip teasing her as he hesitated at her entrance.
“Luc, please,” she begged, “please!”
He plunged inside her, driving himself to the hilt, and she hooked her legs around his waist, tilting her hips higher to take him in more deeply. She clung to his shoulders, near mindless with bliss as he slowly withdrew then entered her again, repeating the motion with increasing urgency until she felt him tense and shake, every muscle straining, holding back his climax. He slid one hand between them, where they were joined, before sliding his thumb across her hooded bundle of nerve endings. At his touch she felt the ripple begin within her again, this time with an even more urgent edge than before, and she clenched against him, her hips rising to meet his, forcing him to increase the pressure against her until she fractured apart. As the waves of pleasure undulated through her body, she felt his muscles bunch beneath her hands, heard his raw groan of completion as he shuddered against her over and over as the paroxysms of his pleasure rocked his body.
When he collapsed against her, Belinda could barely breathe, but she welcomed his weight, his total possession. This was how it had been between them—she knew it at a level that was soul deep. She could begin to thank her lucky stars that her memory of this link between them had returned, and from here who knew what would come to her next.
But for now, she decided as she stroked her hand down the line of Luc’s spine and over his buttocks, she’d relish every second of this reunion.
Luc waited for the racing beat of his heart to slow, for clarity to return to his brain. He’d been so overwhelmed by the power of his response to her he’d barely been able to think, but now he realised he was crushing Belinda. He rolled off her and wrapped his arm about her slender waist, dragging her half over his body as he did so. Her long dark hair spread like a silken cloak across his chest. He inhaled deeply, relishing their comingled scents.
This had turned out far better than he’d anticipated. He’d expected some flashes of memory, some insights into their past, but he’d never expected her to remember their lovemaking so vividly. He’d been prepared to do whatever it took to get his wife back into his life—the life he’d carved out of nothing, the life he’d vowed would be his one day—and he’d succeeded. It didn’t matter to him now if she remembered nothing else. If anything it would probably make life easier for them both.
He listened as Belinda’s breathing deepened, as she slid into sleep and he smiled—a grim smile of satisfaction. Their accident had been a short-term derailment of his plan. He was back on track, better than before.
Eight
Belinda stood nervously at Luc’s side near the helipad as the Tautara Estate helicopter came up through the valley. After their rediscovery of each other yesterday—a journey that had taken a sultry afternoon of food, wine and making love to complete—she felt almost resentful of this intrusion on their time together. After all, it wasn’t as if they’d had a honeymoon—at least not one she remembered, and she still sensed Luc was holding back from her. If not physically, then certainly mentally. She wanted to push past that barrier more than anything. She wanted it all.
Luc still steadfastly refused to disclose any details to her of their past together, or of the accident. The gaps that remained, like yawning black holes in her memory, were increasingly frustrating. She edged closer to her husband and linked her fingers through his. She might not have it all back, she thought, relishing the warm, solid strength of him beside her, but what she did remember was like a gift.
Over breakfast he’d outlined the plans they had for today, that after a light lunch on the patio outside the main living room she and Demi Le Clerc would ride in the chopper to Taupo where they’d do a little shopping while Luc took her fiancé, Hank Walker, to the river for some fly-fishing. As daylight saving hadn’t yet finished there’d still be time for Hank to enjoy dangling a few flies for the fish in the river. Tomorrow they’d all travel, again by helicopter, to Hawke’s Bay for a vineyard trail ending the day with Demi singing at a concert at one of the vineyard estates.
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