t was nearly closing time and Lily, caught in her own thoughts, most of them not very good, the rest of them supremely confusing, sat behind the counter of “Flash and Dazzle”, Maxine and Lily’s store in town.

Lily had bought into the store several years ago using the funds left over from the sale of her childhood home. She’d held onto them just in case some other calamity happened and in those days, calamities were happening with alarming frequently: the refrigerator breaking down (twice); the clutch going out in the car; the washing machine overflowing and flooding the house. At first, Fazire used to take care of these with a flick of the wrist but the Great Grand Genie Number One had channelled him and warned him if he did it any more, it would be considered Lily’s last wish and he’d have to leave them. And there was no way Lily would allow Fazire to leave them, he was the only family they had.

Fazire had been furious, he couldn’t actually get a job because he had no skills, save magic, and furthermore, he didn’t exist in the human world and had no passport or driver’s license. He’d started their air journey from Indiana eight years ago in the opened bottle in the luggage compartment, formed himself and magicked himself into the passenger area to sit with Lily. He couldn’t drive a car, they frightened him. Machinery,” he said with a shudder to hide his fear, “is common.” In those days, he couldn’t do much to help, except magic away problems. However, he also couldn’t go against the Great Grand Genie Number One, the consequences would be dire.

Therefore, for years Fazire had been magic-less except for floating, of course, and the occasional creation of three hot fudge sundaes.

Luckily, Flash and Dazzle had been doing a booming trade and still was. Every item in the store was handmade by talented designers and artists, each piece the only one of its kind. Two of their jewellery designers had become immensely popular and Maxine had found this woman who made the finest, loveliest, hand-crafted sweaters that Lily had ever seen. People came from far and wide to buy a one-of-a-kind sweater, dress or piece of jewellery.

Maxie had wanted to expand and open a store in Bath but didn’t have enough capital to do it. As she had helped Lily incredibly over the years, Lily took the chance and invested in Maxie’s expansion. It had been a good investment, increasing her income just enough to make their financial situation move from “critical” to simply “grave”.

Maxine now spent her time flitting from one store to the other, bedazzling her customers with her extravagant personality, customers who came for the goods but came back for another dose of Maxie, and taking care of her clerks as if they were all favoured daughters.

Lily managed what she now thought of as “her” store. She’d been working there (except for the brief time she lived in London and the time she had been unable to work because of her pregnancy with Tash) for nearly a decade. She loved it there, she kept the flowers in the window box and tubs outside bright and cheerful all year long. She designed the displays of goods with a cautious eye for detail. She took care of her own clerks and all their various and sundry girl problems like they were her younger sisters. It was perfect as Lily could walk to work and thus not tax her stubborn car. She could make her own hours. And she could have Tash there whenever she wanted.

It wasn’t exactly comparable to being an award-winning, jet-setting, best-selling novelist but it put food on the table.

That day, like every day, Lily wore clothes and jewellery she bought from the store wholesale or she wouldn’t have been able to afford them, Flash and Dazzle was a very exclusive shop. Lily’s dress was salmon-coloured with spaghetti straps and dainty hot-pink flowers embroidered in it. The bodice fit her like a glove down her torso to flair very slightly at the hips and it fell ending mid-thigh. She wore this with a pair of hot pink flip flops and a set of brightly coloured, glitter-encrusted bangles in every shade of salmon, peach and pink jingled at her wrist.

Lily had no idea whatsoever that one look at her, stylishly sporting Flash and Dazzle inventory, made the majority of sales in the shop (though Maxine knew this, for certain).

She also had no idea that, even in her current state of slenderness, her glorious beauty had not faded over the years, in fact, it deepened with maturity. Her heartbreak had only added a mysterious allure.

She’d never learned to come to terms with her beauty and still didn’t fully know it existed. She had a feeling she was no longer the ugly duckling, though. She wasn’t deaf or blind and she certainly wasn’t stupid.

She was, that day, avoiding home. It was Saturday, it had been Wednesday when Nate and the Roberts had come to meet Natasha. Nate was back today, having arranged horseback riding lessons for Natasha. This was her daughter’s most desperate desire, but as these lessons cost nearly forty pounds an hour, Lily had been unable to afford them. She had been saving up to give them to her for Christmas. The fact that Nate could afford them without blinking an eye, Lily found highly annoying.

Now, Lily had seven million pounds in the bank, money that Alistair was arranging to put in trust for Natasha. Lily wasn’t going to touch even a single penny of it.

She decided this stubbornly, even though Fazire tried to talk her into keeping at least some it, to finish the final rooms in the house, this included the entire garden level which had yet to be touched and the three rooms she hadn’t started on the top floor, not to mention her disaster of a bedroom. Fazire told her to put some in savings and to give some more to Maxine, who wanted to open another store in Cheltenham. He tried, with great determination, thus throughout the conversation, floating precariously close to the ceiling, to convince her to invest in her own future.

Lily would not hear a word of it.

It was not her money. It was Nate’s money and now Natasha’s money.

And that was that.

And Lily had made another decision, this one strategic.

She had decided to avoid Nate altogether and she didn’t hesitate to put that particular plan into action.

Lily had not been home when Nate arrived that morning. She left Fazire to watch over Natasha and hand her over to Nate when he arrived. Fazire, incidentally, wholeheartedly agreed with her Dodge Nate Plan.

She didn’t even want to meet him in a conference room with solicitors, considering the last time he’d backed her up against a wall and held her face like it was the finest piece of crystal.

She certainly didn’t want to be alone with him, considering the last time they were alone, he’d kissed her.

Kissed her!

It was insane and it was, quite simply, unacceptable.

She forgave herself for giving into the kiss. She’d been wanting to kiss Nate for eight long years, wanting to touch him, hold him, have him back and never, ever, let him go. She was allowed to give into a moment of weakness, just that once.

But not again. Never again.

The rest of that day, when Natasha met Nate and the other members of her burgeoning family, had gone relatively well. Lily had been surprised at Victor and Laura’s appearance but, if she could handle Nate, she could certainly put up with Victor and Laura for a few hours.

They’d served Maxine’s treats and had more tea and coffee. Conversation was awkward and stilted and mostly made up of Natasha’s excited gibberish, Maxine’s hilarious quips and Laura’s soft, careful comments.

Then Laura suggested a walk on the seafront, which Lily encouraged with great enthusiasm, running up the stairs to drag her genie out of his bottle (Fazire was furiously channelling his friends to tell them the latest episode in the Lily Saga) and plan her strategy with her ever-helpful friend.

At the last possible minute, Lily explained she had just remembered an urgent errand she had to run. Nate had glanced at her with a look that was both annoyingly patient and, more annoyingly knowing but she’d ignored him.

She said her brief good-byes and disregarded Laura’s disappointed look. She rushed to her beat up Peugeot, coaxed it to start and took off as fast as the little car would take her which, admittedly, wasn’t very fast.

Fazire, as planned, called her mobile when the coast was clear.

She and Fazire had carefully arranged their next avoidance tactic.

Unless Fazire phoned her, Lily was to work at the shop all day and go to the grocery store after. This, she hoped, would give Nate plenty of time to have his visit with Tash and leave. Horseback riding lessons didn’t last all day, only an hour. Even still, over a bottle of wine the night before, Lily and Fazire had made up a half a dozen excuses for her to leave again straight away in case Nate was still there when she arrived home (it wouldn’t do for him actually to know she was evading him).

Alistair encouraged her avoidance of Nate, even demanded it. He was currently working with Nate’s solicitors to set a visitation schedule and make it plain that Lily had no interest in what they were calling a “reconciliation”.

Nate’s solicitors were refusing even to broach the subject of visitation, demanding reconciliation and had gone so far as to present Alistair with a prenuptial agreement. This, Alistair returned after Jane had shredded it. Alistair didn’t read it and certainly didn’t give Lily the opportunity to do so, even if she had wanted to, which she did not.

She tried not to think of what Nate had said while they were retrieving the photo albums though she was quite unsuccessful. He thought she’d left him, which was absurd, and this confused her. He had not come after her and this angered her. That he didn’t know that Jeff and Danielle had plotted to keep them apart was obvious. That he accepted her leaving without even trying to discover why dumbfounded her. Especially since, now he clearly intended to have her back.

Then again, when he thought she’d left, there was no child involved. Now there was and if there was anything Lily understood, it was the importance of family. Lily didn’t for a second think that he wanted her but that he wanted them. More than likely Tash, with Lily as a companion and willing bed partner thrown in to sweeten the deal.

And Lily wanted no part in that.

It was closing time and usually Lily was happy to go home to Tash and Fazire on a Saturday when they’d get fish and chips and stroll the seafront or pop in a DVD. Tash liked Pixar, Fazire liked Westerns, Lily didn’t care what they watched.

Instead, she locked the doors, saw, very slowly, to the business of tidying the store, locking away the register drawer and seeing to the most minute task that would hold her back. Then she went to Tesco and instead of whipping around the store in her normal, busy-mother-on-a-mission frenzy, she checked product labels, assessed quantities and spent vast periods of time contemplating the inventories of the larder at her home before she decided on a purchase.

She packed the car, carefully placing every bag safely in the boot as if she’d be graded on its arrangement. It was strange, having time on her hands. It was an alien feeling she hadn’t had in so long, she couldn’t remember the last time she had it.

Yes, she could, when she lived in London with Nate.

Then she wandered back to the cart store to return her trolley, humming to herself idly as if she had all the time in the world.

Then, against her will for the first time in her life, she went home.

A gleaming, sleek, sporty car was parked at the front of her house, dashing all hope that Nate had already left and Fazire had just forgotten to phone.

She expertly, from years of practice, parallel parked the Peugeot into the spot behind the Aston Martin (Nate, she saw, had not changed his predilection for fast cars), mentally preparing for what was to come. She went over her excuses, deciding which was best – an emergency trip to the mall because her hair dryer was broken, which it was not but everyone knew a woman could not live a single day without her hair dryer.

Taking as many bags as possible from the boot, she struggled, arms laden, to the house.

She was barely halfway up the walk when the door was thrown open.

“Mummy!” Natasha flew out with her usual spiritedness, followed urgently by Fazire who had a look on his face that could only be described as “stormy”. “You would not be… lieve!” Natasha cried excitedly.

Nate followed Fazire and Lily fought back her reaction at seeing him casually strolling from her house. She couldn’t count how many times she’d dreamed of that very vision coming real.

She found it immensely annoying that he was more charismatic, more attractive, more handsome than eight years ago. He wore jeans and a long-sleeved chambray shirt, the sleeves rolled up partially at his forearms and he looked immensely masculine.

“Believe what?” Lily asked, trying to smile at her happy daughter at the same time ignoring Nate and finding both difficult.

She decided that, too, annoyed her.

Fazire walked by her, flashing her a glance filled with barely contained ire.

He muttered as he passed her, “Tash confiscated my mobile thingie-whatsit and would not allow me to use the house line.”

Then, on that strange announcement, he stomped to the boot to get the rest of the groceries.

“Daddy has been busy today. Busy, busy, busy,” Natasha told her with delight. “Fazire wanted to call you but I wouldn’t let him because it was a surprise!”

Nate walked straight to her.

“Lily,” he greeted.

She spared him the briefest glance and started to look back at Tash to ask about this “surprise” when Nate leaned into her. She had stopped to talk to Tash but now she reared back to avoid Nate.

He simply reached in and took all of her carrier bags of which there were five and he spared her a glance, his, again, annoyingly knowing. Then calmly, as if he had carried groceries into their house every day for the past eight years, he turned and walked into the house.

She glared at his back and decided she found that annoying as well.

“Come look, come on, come on, come on!” Natasha urged excitedly.

Tash grabbed her hand and tugged Lily forward. Lily threw a look over her shoulder at Fazire who was carrying the last three bags into the house. His lips were thin and his face was set.

Fazire, Lily knew, took Nate’s defection personally. He had, he thought, been the one to bring Nate into Lily’s life through her wish. Even though Lily tried to talk him out of it, Fazire felt personally responsible for all that happened to Lily. She knew it weighed on him heavily and he was determined to chastise himself and had even gone so far as to vow early retirement from Genie-hood considering the enormity of his blunder.

“Mummy, come on!” Tash demanded and Lily allowed herself to be pulled into the house, up the stairs and to her bedroom.

Then she saw her “surprise”.

In the doorway to her room, she came to a dead halt. Her eyes widened. Her mouth dropped open. And she stared.

“You can’t go in because the floors are drying. They’ll be back tomorrow to put in the new furniture. Isn’t it great? It’s just like Changing Rooms, except not done yet.” Tash’s excitement was barely contained, she was practically dancing in glee.

Lily’s room had been transformed. All of her furniture was gone, not even a trace of it in the hallway. The walls were smooth and had been painted in the palest blue. The woodwork was gleaming with a new coat of white gloss. An enormous ceiling rose had been affixed to the middle where also an intricate elegant light fixture dangled glamorously. The cornices had also been replaced, looking beautiful, classic and clean. The floors had been sanded and re-varnished.

Lily looked down at her watch. She left that morning at eight. It was now six thirty.

She could not believe it had all been done in that time. It took her six months just to paint the hall.

“There were, like, seven men here. I couldn’t believe they could get all of them in your room but they did. They even hoovered and dusted when they left so it would be tidy when you came home,” Tash explained and then breathed in awe, “Isn’t it lush?”

“It’s lovely,” Lily murmured, now way beyond annoyed. So far beyond annoyed, it wasn’t funny.

She was ready to do battle.

“Do me a favour, baby doll, and help Fazire with the groceries.” Tash was so thrilled at what she thought was her father’s grand gesture, she didn’t notice her mother’s glittering blue eyes. “And, ask your father to come up here. I’d like a word with him.”

“Okay,” Tash agreed readily, blind to Lily’s mounting fury, and raced headlong down the stairs. Her natural ebullience ratcheted up twelve notches to immeasurable at all the good fortune that she thought had befallen them upon the arrival of her father.

While she waited, Lily paced the landing. Every time she turned back and caught a glimpse of her room, her temper flared even further out of control.

When she caught a glimpse of Nate’s dark head sedately ascending the staircase, without a word, she broke out of her pacing and alighted the stairs that took them to the next floor. She wasn’t going to confront Nate on the landing, she needed privacy for what she had to say.

She walked angrily to the living room and stood, hand on the door while Nate silently followed her and entered the room. When he did, she slammed the door loudly and whirled on him.

“How dare you!” she shouted, letting her rage loose.

“Lily.” This was all he said. He had crossed his arms on his chest and was watching her closely. She knew he didn’t miss a thing. He never missed a thing.

Not that she was exactly trying to hide her fury.

His gorgeous face, she noted, her anger hitting the stratosphere, was carefully controlled. She decided his control annoyed her most of all.

“Where’s my furniture?” she snapped.

“Gone,” he said shortly.

“Bring it back,” she demanded.

“It’s gone,” he stated implacably as if he had every right to toss out her belongings without a word to her.

He walked toward her and she, unfortunately, was standing in front of the door she herself had closed. She had no retreat and realised her error immediately.

Instead of moving back and being pinned by his body and the door, which she knew, in recent experience, he’d do, she stood her ground and he came up to her and stopped.

He was close to her, very close. So close she could smell his tangy, earthy cologne. So close she could feel the heat from his body. Her belly threatened a gymnastics lesson and she resolutely ignored her reaction to his proximity. Letting herself go once was allowed, even expected. She had been, of course, pining for him for years.

To do it again would be a catastrophic mistake.

“I want it back,” she clipped, barely controlling her careening emotions.

“It’s not coming back. It’s gone. New furniture will be delivered tomorrow.”

“On a Sunday?” she hissed in disbelief. Hardly anyone did anything on a Sunday in England, except eat a Sunday roast and, perhaps, do a touch of gardening.

Nate shrugged.

Of course, the omnipotent Nate McAllister with his seven million pounds could get anyone to do anything he wanted.

She lost control of her careening emotions and what’s more, she didn’t care.

“I want you out of my house,” she ordered, her eyes blazing, her body rigid with fury.

“We’re going to dinner,” Nate stated matter-of-factly as if she’d just stop, deflate, give in and say, “Oh, okay, whatever you wish.”

At this she lost her mind.

“We are not going to dinner. You may take Tash to dinner but we are not doing anything,” she yelled.

“I already told Natasha we’re all going to dinner. She’s looking forward to it.”

If she wasn’t mistaken, he’d moved in the barest inch. She remained exactly where she is.

“Well, then, I guess you’re going to learn the painful lesson of telling your daughter she can’t have something she desperately wants because I’m not going to dinner with you.”

His eyes flashed at her words, reading correctly that Lily had, over the years, been forced to learn the excruciating lesson of disappointing their daughter.

His hand reached up and she stared in shock at it until it moved out of her eyesight. It then traced her hair at her temple, pushed its heavy weight back and tucked it behind her ear.

His eyes watched the progress of his hand then they moved to hers. He spoke gently, reacting to what her words had meant but obviously he was still not to be denied.

“Yes, you are.”

“No, I’m not.”

He leaned in again, his hand dropping to her shoulder, this time his movement could not be missed or mistaken.

“Yes, Lily, you are.”

It was then, she moved in, going up on her toes to put her face so close to his so that it was barely an inch away.

“If you think you can stroll into our lives and turn them upside down with your money and power and… whatever, and… and…” She couldn’t find the words. She was too angry to speak.

“And what?”

“I don’t know!” she shouted in his face.

“I’ll not have you sleeping in that room the way it was,” he declared.

Again, her mouth dropped open at his nerve and sheer arrogance.

“It isn’t your choice!” she raged.

His hand moved to cup her jaw.

“I’ve never seen you this angry.” His voice was soft, contemplative. He was watching her with a warmth in his dark eyes that very nearly, but not quite, stole her breath.

“We barely knew one another,” she snapped. “You’ve never seen me a lot of things.”

Then he remarked quietly, “You’re incredibly beautiful when you’re angry.”

Again, she gawped at him, so stunned at his unexpected compliment, she was unable to react when he stepped forward, forcing her back the step it took to pin her against the door. His warm body came up against hers and his hand tightened at her jaw, his other hand settled on the door beside her head.

“You’re incredibly beautiful always, but angry, you’re magnificent,” he murmured softly, his eyes had dropped to her mouth. The mood had shifted and she was most definitely not prepared for it.

“Get away from me,” she breathed, half-frightened at what she would do, half-angry at what he was doing.

“Come to dinner with me,” he coaxed, his deep voice like velvet.

“No,” she denied stubbornly, refusing to give into that voice and tried to jerk her head away but in her current position, it was impossible.

“Come to dinner with me,” he repeated, as if the exchange of words they’d just shared hadn’t happened at all.

“I… said… no!” She didn’t wait for him to ask again, she rushed on. “You need to step away right now. You may take Natasha to dinner and bring her home. Then your solicitors need to agree with Alistair a schedule for you to see Tash. I don’t want to see you again. I don’t want you in this house. I don’t want –”

“We’re getting married,” he stated flatly, his voice again smooth and silky and the gymnastics team in her belly started to do their warm up stretches.

She put her hands on his abdomen and shoved with all her might.

He didn’t move away, instead, his arm closed around her like a vice, crushing her against his body. His other hand dropped, also coming around her, higher on her back so her breasts were pressed against him. His head was bent so that his eyes looked into hers, his hard, beautiful mouth a breath away.

And then he spoke and his voice was no longer smooth and silky, nor was it gentle and nor was it coaxing. It was hard, low and full of steel and it surged through her like it was alive and breathing.

“I’ve lost eight years of you. Eight years. I don’t know what you’ve suffered in those years but you’ve got the rest of our lives to tell me and I have that time to make it up to you,” he stated firmly then went on. “This, Lily, I assure you I’ll do.”

It took every bit of willpower she had not to let his words penetrate her armour. Her hands had been forced away from his stomach when he pulled her to him and now she clutched the fabric of his shirt at his waist, pushing it back as hard as she could.

“You’ve made me promises before, Nate,” she reminded him heatedly.

“I know,” he ground out, his eyes still drilling into hers.

“You broke those promises.”

He didn’t hesitate and he didn’t deny it. “I know.”

She glared, waiting for him to go on, to say something, anything that would make it better.

He didn’t.

“We’re over!” she yelled hysterically, she couldn’t take much more.

“We haven’t even begun,” he promised.

“I’m not going through it again!” she cried, lost in her panic, lost in her fears. Her anger had flashed and as usual was quickly gone and now she only wished for escape.

Her life may not have been the heaven it had seemed to be when she’d been with Nate so long ago, but it was a good life, a contented life and she wanted it back.

“You won’t have to,” Nate barked, shocking her by losing his own temper. He was no longer cool and casual. He was in the throes of his own personal storm. She should have acceded to the force of it for it filled the room, pressed into her like a slab of marble. But she didn’t, she couldn’t, there was too much to lose.

“I don’t believe you,” she accused.

“Fine. Don’t believe me. But our daughter has two parents and for the rest of her life she’s going to enjoy both of them. Together. She’s going to enjoy the safety of a loving home, her parents living together, taking care of her. Not shuttled back and forth. Not being forced to adjust to two homes, two lives. You saw her when she found us together. You know she wants it.”

“You can’t have everything you want, believe me, Nate, I know.” His eyes narrowed dangerously at her words but recklessly she went on. “It’s a difficult lesson to learn but she might as well learn it early, rather than to grow up a hopeless dreamer like her mother and get crushed somewhere along the way.”

She could have sworn his face registered the barest flinch but he continued.

“You can’t tell me, given the power to offer her what she most desires, you wouldn’t move heaven and earth to do it,” he bit out.

“She’ll adjust,” Lily snapped even though he was, unfortunately, right.

Lily would move heaven and earth to give Tash what she wanted but just then she wasn’t giving an inch.

“She’ll be devastated,” Nate correctly predicted.

“You don’t know her enough to make that judgement,” Lily aimed at her target and hit a bull’s-eye. She knew this because his eyes started glittering angrily and she knew his control was stretched nearly to the breaking point.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he clipped. “You’re not magnificent when you’re angry. You’re incredibly annoying and unbelievably stubborn when you’re angry.”

“I’m not stubborn!” she denied stubbornly.

His face, if it could be credited, moved closer and he changed tactics so swiftly, her head began to swim.

“You want me, Lily, and you know it.”

“I don’t!” Even she knew it was a lie.

“You want me,” he stated baldly, “shall I prove it to you?”

Frantic, because she knew what was coming, she threatened, “Kiss me again and I won’t be responsible for what I do.”

“I know exactly what you’ll do.”

And, without giving her the opportunity to retort, his lips crushed down on hers.

This time she didn’t hold herself stock-still. This time she struggled, fought, pushed against him and tried to pull away. She clawed at his sides, tearing at the fabric of his shirt.

His tongue touched her lips and a lone gymnast executed a perfect round-off and her whole body stilled at the sudden glory of it.

As usual, he immediately sensed her capitulation. Surprisingly, he pulled away but not enough to allow her escape. Instead, he half-carried, half-dragged her to the sofa and before she could make good a getaway, he pushed her backwards onto it and his heavy, warm body landed on top of her.

“Stop, Nate,” she demanded, scrambling beneath him

“No,” he refused and before she could say another word, his mouth came down on hers again.

His mouth was not gentle. It was hard, insistent, demanding. It was also familiar. It was also exactly what she’d wanted, wished for and dreamed of for eight years.

Not another man had touched her. She’d been on a handful of dates without even a goodnight kiss (well, perhaps, a peck on the cheek). Lily had been too wrapped up in her life, her problems, her responsibilities. She didn’t have time for men.

And no one compared to Nate. It was a simple statement of fact.

His mouth moved to trail down her cheek to her jaw.

“Please stop,” she whispered on a plea. Her anger was gone, replaced by longing, eight terrible, lonely years of longing.

“No.”

“Please, Nate,” she begged.

In answer, his hand moved on her leg, smoothing a caress all the way up her thigh, pulling her skirt up with it, her skin quivering at his intimate touch.

His hard body pressed against her, so familiar, so warm, almost fevered. She wasn’t going to be able to deny her body much longer the attention it craved.

“We can’t,” she pleaded.

“We can,” he growled against her throat, the rumble of his voice moving through her until she shivered.

He felt it, she knew, he couldn’t help but feel it and his mouth came back to hers and he kissed her again.

This time she didn’t struggle. The minute his lips touched hers, they parted and his tongue slid inside.

And that was it. She lost her battle and she acquiesced as the gymnastics team in her belly, warmed up and ready to go, gave the performance of their life.

Eight years of grief and yearning poured out of her and she kissed him back, her tongue warring with his, her hands moving on his body, roaming over his back, down his hips, sliding over his behind. She’d forgotten how hard his body was, the tough sinew under his silken skin. She tore at his shirt, wanting the feel of him with nothing in the way. Once free of his jeans, her hands delved underneath the shirt to trail across his waist and up his back.

His skin was burning to the touch.

It was too much, too soon. The tears came up the back of her throat, burning as her body burned under his touch.

His mouth never left hers, delivering its heady kiss, but one of his hands went to her breast, cupping it, finding her nipple with the pad of his thumb. She gasped against his mouth at the feel of him there, powerful shafts of pleasure shot straight through her.

At her gasp, his kiss deepened and what was already wild became wilder. Years of grief changed to relief that he was alive, breathing, with her again, touching her again, kissing her again.

This time, her hands and mouth became insistent, demanding, her fingers rushing across his skin, under his shirt, one of them moving to his belly, down, until she felt him hard against the palm of her hand.

The tears sprang from her eyes, falling silently along her temples as he tore his mouth from hers on a groan at her touch, his mouth gliding to her ear.

“Do you still want to stop?” His voice was rough with arousal but he sounded as if he wanted a response. As if he’d move away if that was what she desired.

She didn’t answer, couldn’t answer.

His hand tightened at her breast, his thumb swirling provocatively.

“Stop me now, Lily, it’ll be your only chance.”

Still unable to speak, she shook her head and Nate didn’t hesitate. His mouth took hers in another searing kiss as both of his hands moved to her hips, pressing her against him, her hand, still between them, forced intimately flat against his arousal.

Just as quickly as he did it, he released her hips, his mouth and tongue everywhere, sliding down her throat, to her ear, along her collarbone, the edge of her bodice. He bent his head as one hand yanked her skirt up over her hips and without delay his hand went between her legs as his mouth closed over her sensitised nipple. He was doing both through her clothing, his teeth and tongue working sensuously at her nipple over her dress, his fingers pressing against her panties, using the silky fabric as tantalising friction, and her body, already breathlessly alive at his touch, started vibrating.

“Nate,” she breathed in wonder.

She’d forgotten how glorious it was. She thought she remembered but she’d forgotten.

He surged up again, his mouth against hers, his hand moved up to the edge of her underwear and then it plunged in.

“I’ve been waiting eight years to hear you say my name like that again.”

Her breath caught at his words, the husky tone of wanting in his voice, as his finger found her and circled deliciously. She was clutching at him as the lusty spirals shot out from between her legs, his lips still touching hers but he didn’t kiss her.

“Say it again,” he demanded.

Her eyes had closed to concentrate on what her body was feeling and at his demand, they flew open and his black gaze was boring into her.

“Say it again, Lily,” he commanded.

She bit her lip and his hand moved, his finger slowly, beautifully, slid inside her and at the feel of him filling her again, even just his finger, she couldn’t help herself.

“Nate.”

His mouth came down on hers hard as his hand worked at her and she pressed against it, kissing him back with desperate wanting.

Then, without warning, his head jerked up and his hand, his thumb at the core of her, one finger deep inside her, completely stilled.

“Jesus,” he cursed, his hand moving swiftly but gently away from her, making her moan in pleasure mingled with disappointment.

He surged up lithely, pulling her along with him. She was dazed with passion, her legs trembling so badly she had to lean against him and hold onto his waist.

“Nate,” she whispered uncertainly as one of his arms held her steady, the other hand yanked the skirt of her dress back in place.

His head came up at the sound of his name and he looked into her face, a satisfied grin playing about his mouth. His face, too, was still set with passion and at the sight of it, she sucked in her breath.

Briefly, he pressed his lips against hers.

Then he murmured, “Someone’s coming.”

And before this frightening thought could penetrate her desire fogged brain, before she could get her buckling knees under control, before she could break away from him, the door flew open and Fazire was standing there.

Her old friend froze two steps into the room and took in the vision of Lily clinging to Nate and Nate holding onto Lily.

Fazire glared at them in horror.

Before he could utter a word, Natasha forged into the room.

“What’s up?” she asked innocently, smiling happily at her mother and father standing together, seemingly the loving, embracing couple.

Lily was still recovering. Both fortunately and unfortunately, depending on how you looked at it, Nate was faster at his recovery and without hesitation he explained, his voice still slightly husky with desire.

“Your mother was just thanking me for the room.”

With this, Nate’s arm tightened around her waist before she could begin to pull away. Lily watched as Fazire’s face turned as purple as the walls in his bedroom.

Natasha had no problem processing this explanation. It was, indeed, quite natural that Lily would wish to thank Nate soundly for his thoughtful gesture.

“Are we going out to dinner or what?” Natasha asked, her head tilting to the side. “I’m hungry,” she went on in explanation before her mother could take her to task for her somewhat rude question.

Nate’s head swung to look at Lily.

“Are we?” he asked softly and his lips turned up at the corners because, with one look at the soft gaze Lily was giving their daughter, he already knew the answer.