Chapter 42

 

Dylan eagerly made his way upstairs to Gemma’s room carrying a cup of coffee for her. They’d had an amazing night of sex and it had been a mistake not spending the night with her. He’d slipped away before dawn and regretted it now. As they’d both dozed, he’d been in two minds what to do, but he’d followed his instinct and gone to his own room. This morning, he couldn’t wait to see her again. He had an overwhelming urge to spend the day with her and introduce her to his hobby. Would she enjoy it as much as he did? He hoped so.

He tapped on her bedroom door.

“Come in,” she called.

He walked in carrying a latte. He’d made her one before when he first met her and she seemed to enjoy it.

“Morning sleepyhead,” he smiled placing the mug on her bedside table.

She pulled herself into a sitting position and ran her fingers through her short hair. No rushing towards the bathroom like women usually did first thing to make sure they looked as seductive as the night before. That wasn’t Gemma. He liked that she was sort of quirky and different from the norm.

She leant back against the headboard and pulled the cover around her to make sure those delicious breasts of hers weren’t exposed.

“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, knowing neither of them had slept much at all.

“I did, thank you,” she grinned, reaching for the coffee, “eventually. Did you?”

“Oh, yes,” he winked as he perched himself on the bed. She hitched up towards the middle to give him some room.

He moved her chin with his finger and thumb. Her eye looked yellow as if the bruising was coming out. It must hurt. He’d like to get his hands on the bastard who did that to her.

“Will I live?” she enquired.

“I think so, as long as you keep taking instruction from Dr Rider.”

“I thought I already did last night.”

She was so sexy. His dick twitched.

“You did, and if I don’t get out of here soon, I’ll be prescribing more of the same.”

Her smile told him she’d be happy to oblige. She took another sip of her coffee.

“But rather than that, as it’s such a gorgeous day, I thought I’d take you out for some fresh air.”

“That sounds nice. Where?”

“It’s a surprise. All you need to do is get ready. Nothing fancy, jeans will suffice.”

“Okay, give me five minutes to drink my coffee, ten minutes to shower, and then I’ll be with you.”

“Great, I love fast women.” He spontaneously leant forward and kissed her. It shocked him how easily he’d done so as he wasn’t the kissing type. Not for affection anyway, he liked it as a prelude to sex.

Why the hell had he done that?

He stood up and moved swiftly towards the door before he made any other stupid moves.

“I thought you ladies needed time to apply the slap?”

She rolled her eyes, “Not me. I’m a no slap girl, so if that’s what you’re looking for, then I’m definitely the wrong woman for you.”

“Good, you don’t need it.” He meant it. He hated orange faces, false eyelashes and tattooed eyebrows. “I’ll rustle us up something for breakfast and then I’m taking you somewhere you’ll love.”

“Can’t wait,” she replied eagerly.

 

It surprised Dylan that he wanted to take her gliding. It was his bit of escapism from the fast pace of London. He loved to get in the air and escape, but always alone. He’d never had the urge to take anyone with him, let alone someone he was screwing.

It’s only to take her mind off being attacked.

That’s all it was.

As they’d driven to the airfield at the London gliding club, he felt the need to explain the glider he preferred to use was fitted with a small power unit that could prolong the flight if the conditions weren’t ideal. He’d squeezed her leg and reassured her he’d been gliding for years so she had nothing to worry about. But Gemma didn’t appear worried at all which was no surprise to him. She didn’t seem at all like a usual run-of-the-mill female. Far from it. From what he’d gathered, she seemed ballsy with guts. He wasn’t sure how he knew that as he didn’t know her well, but he sensed she was no wallflower. She’d have to be tough to have coped with prison. And he suspected the bloke that attacked her, got plenty back. Gemma Dean wouldn’t be a pushover. He liked that she was different.

 

He enjoyed sharing how his father had taken him gliding when he was fourteen and how he’d fallen in love with it. He was quietly confident she would find the experience exhilarating too.

At the airfield, he’d sat and waited while she had to go through the mandatory safety and instruction briefing even though she was just a passenger. It was compulsory as she’d never been in a glider before. His eyes watched as she listened attentively to the chap instructing her. He must have been mid-fifties and as she smiled at him by way of thanks, a stab of jealousy hit him hard. He didn’t want her smiling at any man, only him. What was it about her that made him possessive? It wasn’t an emotion he was used to feeling. He found himself wanting more from her, and had an overwhelming urge to throw away the casual girlfriend manual, and go for something more in-depth. He’d never felt that way before, so quickly dismissed it. It wouldn’t do to get stupid over a woman.

 

The glider was attached to a motorised plane which towed along the runway and into the sky. He even wanted rid of that as quickly as possible, so he could be on his own with her.

From the minute they were airborne, she seemed to love it. Once they hit a couple of thousand feet, the rope was detached and the silent flight began. Warm thermals pushed the glider upwards, and through her fresh eyes he began experiencing scenery he’d seen hundreds of times. They travelled at speeds of a hundred miles an hour and rode the air currents with scenery stretching to the horizon with barely a sound to disturb the moment. As they glided gracefully over picturesque landscapes, they enjoyed stunning views usually bequeathed to the birds, and her squeals of delight confirmed it had been the right decision to bring her.

 

Dylan had taken her to a pub for lunch and returned to the table with drinks from the bar.

“So, what did you think?” he asked, sitting down on the stool opposite and passing her a glass of wine.

Her face came alive. “It was incredible. The feeling of flying through the sky and coasting along as free as a bird was exciting . . . amazing . . . spectacular . . . all of those and a whole load more. I’m lost for words to describe it, really.” She smiled warmly at him, “I’ll never forget today, thank you so much for taking me.”

“You’re welcome. I’m glad you enjoyed it.” His eyes took in her lovely clean complexion from the fresh air; she really was a stunning young woman. And it was a delight to him she’d enjoyed the experience. It gave him a warm comfortable feeling that he was responsible for her happiness. Somehow it pleased him she’d enjoyed the sport he loved. To see the delight on her beautiful face, moved him. She’d had a crap life by the sound of things, so her joy made him feel joyous too.

She carried on, “You’re so lucky to be able to escape from the world and do that whenever you want to.”

He took his jacket off and tossed it on the seat. “Yes, I suppose I am.” He never thought of himself as lucky. But she was right, he was.

“You definitely are,” she beamed, “I’ve never done anything like that . . . nor will I again, I’m sure.”

“You can come anytime you want.” He meant it. He loved her childish enthusiasm, and wanted more.

“That’s a nice thought,” she wrinkled her nose, “but I won’t be here that long.”

Tightness gripped his gut. He didn’t want her to go anywhere right now.

“But thank you for taking me. It’s an experience I’ll not forget in a hurry.” She took a sip of her wine. “It was just what I needed after . . . you know.”

“Yeah,” he knew. “I hate what that loser did to you. The consequences don’t bear thinking about.”

“Well hopefully it was a one off,” she squeezed his hand, “I’ll be more careful next time.”

He liked the feel of her hand on his. More than he should do. He had the urge to move next to her and hold her hand like lovers do. He really needed to get a grip.

“And thank you for taking me in last night,” she continued, “I feel much better now. Which reminds me, after we’ve eaten; I think I’d better go home.”

No way. He didn’t want her to go anywhere.

“I thought we’d said you’d stay tonight and I’d take you to the gallery in the morning for your shift.”

“I know you said that, but I’m fine now, really I am. And I can’t stay at yours on my own when you’re out at the gallery function.”

“Why not? I’m sure it will be more comfortable at my house than yours.”

“I know it is. But you won’t be there. It isn’t right.”

“What’s not right? You’re my guest.”

“It’s really kind of you to offer, but you don’t know me from Adam. I could take off with the family silver for all you know.”

“It’s insured,” he dismissed indifferently. “I’ll only be a few hours, three at the most, and it’ll be nice for a change to have someone to come home to.” He upped the charm offensive. “Life’s not all singing and dancing for a gallery owner you know, it can get lonely sometimes.”

“Oh, I bet,” she teased. “Come on, a man with your looks and wealth? I can’t ever see you being lonely.”

“Ah, you don’t know that,” he took a sip of his wine. “I might appear popular and always be surrounded by people, but more often than not they’re only interested in what I can do for them.”

“My heart is bleeding for you,” she dismissed playfully, “you poor man.”

“I am a poor man. I actually need a strategy to cope.”

“What sort of strategy?” she grinned.

“Therapy. I need you to take pity on me.”

She was so sexy when she smiled.

“You haven’t had enough . . . therapy?”

“Nowhere near enough,” he grinned as the waitress approached the table carrying their meals.

“The lasagne’s for the lady, and mine’s the fish, thank you.”