only minutes ago, suddenly felt too small.
His dark gaze moved up to fix on hers. ‘I’ve been punishing you for rejecting me—’ he took a ragged breath ‘—because you broke my heart, Em.’ His voice cracked on the words and on instinct she reached out to lay a hand against his chest, over his heart, as if she could somehow undo the damage she’d done to it.
He glanced down at where her hand lay before looking up to recapture her gaze with his. ‘The way I responded was totally unfair. I know that now. And I’m sorry. Truly sorry, Emma.’
Her breath caught in her throat as she saw tears well in his eyes.
He was hurting as badly as she was.
This revelation finally broke through her restraint and an overwhelming urge to soothe him compelled her to close the gap between them. Wrapping her arms around him, she pressed her lips to his and immediately felt him respond by pulling her hard against his body and kissing her back with an intensity that took her breath away.
Opening her mouth to drag in a gasp of pleasure, she felt his tongue slide between her parted lips and skim against her own, bringing with it the heady familiar taste of him. She’d missed kissing him, so profoundly it made her physically ache with relief to finally be able to revel in its glorious return.
They moved against each other in an exquisitely sensual dance, their hands pushing under clothing, sliding over skin, reading each other’s bodies with their fingertips.
Stumbling together, they moved to the centre of the pod and Jack carefully laid her down on the soft velvet cushions, not letting her go for a second, and she let him take control, forcing herself not to ruin this by questioning the wisdom of what they were doing—because she needed this right now, needed to blot out all the complications and responsibilities in her life and just sink into the safe familiarity of his strength.
To feel desired and happy and free again.
The sex was fast and desperate, as if they couldn’t stop themselves even if they’d wanted to. Their hands and mouths were everywhere, their touch wild and unrestrained.
Alone, but together, at the top of the world.
* * *
Afterwards, after they’d come back down to earth and stumbled out of the pod, rumpled and high on champagne and emotion, they returned home and made love again, this time taking the opportunity to explore each other’s bodies properly, relearning what they used to know and finding comfort and joy in the fact that being together again was as wonderful as they remembered—maybe even more so—until they finally fell asleep in each other’s arms, both mentally and physically replete after their long-awaited wedding night.
* * *
Jack woke the next morning with a deep sense of satisfaction warming his body.
Memories of having Emma in his arms last night swam across his vision and he allowed himself to exult in them for a while before opening his eyes.
He hadn’t intended to make love to her last night, the trip on the London Eye was meant to be an apology for the awful, cold way he’d been acting towards her, but she’d looked so wary to be there alone with him he’d known if he wanted to gain her trust again he was going to have to be totally honest with her about how he was feeling.
It had been incredibly hard saying those things to her after years of burying his feelings so deeply inside him, but he was intensely relieved that they were finally out in the open.
He knew now with agonising certainty that he’d never felt like this with anyone but her. The women he’d dated in the years they’d been apart had all been pale imitations of her. Mere tracing paper versions. Without substance. None of them had her grace and finesse, or her smart, sharp wit. Or her beauty.
After Emma had left him, he’d shut himself off from romantic emotion, not wanting to deal with the torment he’d been put through, but as soon as she’d reappeared in his life all those feelings had come rushing back. But it had been too painful to bear at first, like emotional pins and needles. So he’d numbed himself against her.
Until it wasn’t possible to any more.
From the way she’d kept herself gently aloof from him since they’d met again he’d been afraid that she wasn’t interested in renewing their connection—that she’d moved on from him—but judging by the passionate fervour of her lovemaking last night, it seemed she did still care about him after all.
Which led him to believe that there might be hope for them yet.
Excitement buzzed through his veins and he turned to look for the woman who had made him an intensely happy man last night, only to be disappointed when he found the space where she’d lain in bed next to him empty and cold.
Frowning, he grabbed his phone, glancing at the screen to see it was already eight-thirty. It wasn’t like him to sleep in late, but after the intensity of the night before he guessed it wasn’t entirely surprising.
At least he’d taken today off work to be available for the Babbler interview, so he and Emma would be able to spend the day in each other’s company—hopefully most of it in bed.
Heart feeling lighter than it had in years, he got up and took a quick shower, then pulled on some fresh clothes.
It was a shame there wasn’t time to lure her back to bed now. That damn interview! It was the very last thing he wanted to do today.
Still, perhaps once Perdita had cleared off he could take Emma out for a slap-up meal to apologise for forcing her to take part in his father’s media circus, then drag her back to the house for a lot more personal attention and a chance for them to talk about their future together.
Taking the stairs two at a time, he went straight to the kitchen to seek out Emma so they could start their life together again as soon as possible.
* * *
Emma had woken up in the dark to find Jack’s arm lying heavily across her chest and his leg hooked over hers, trapping her within the cage of his body.
Her first thought was, What have I done?
She’d let her crazy romantic notions get the better of her, that was what.
She was suddenly terrified that she’d made a terrible mistake.
Heart pounding, she’d wriggled out of his covetous embrace and dashed into the en-suite bathroom, her forehead damp with sweat and her limbs twitchy with adrenaline.
After splashing some water on her face and feeling her heart rate begin to return to normal, she’d crept back out to the bedroom and stood looking at Jack as he slept. He’d looked so peaceful, lying there on his side, with his arm still outstretched as if he were holding onto the ghost of her presence.
Unable to bear the idea of getting back into bed with him when her feelings were in such chaos, she went to her own room to get dressed, then headed downstairs to make herself a soothing cup of tea. She sat with it at the table, staring into space and thinking, thinking, thinking...
Half an hour later, she was still sitting there with a cold cup of tea in front of her, her thoughts a blur of conflicting emotions.
She
