He placed a hand on the back of my head to pull me in for a kiss.

I grinned against his mouth. "That is why you had it as your ringtone, isn’t it?"

He nodded.

"Then why did you get so angry at the pond when we went skating? You were so cold and horrible to me. If you liked me, why didn't you just say so? We could have avoided all the shit that followed."

Tudor stared at me for what felt like an eternity, and I couldn't read his expression. Was he mad, upset, pissed off that I'd brought it up?

He rubbed his lips together. "Tash, the truth is that I didn't want you to know I liked you, how much I liked you. Relationships are not good for me at the moment, but I could not get you out of my head, and after this I know I never will. I've never had someone affect me like you do."

He grimaced as if in pain, dragging in shallow breaths. "I can't believe I was such an ass to you though, I wish I could just go back in time and take it all back."

Me too!

I sighed and nodded in agreement. “So you did have the ringtone because you liked me?"

"Yes. Every time I played it, it made me think of you, and that night, holding you, laughing with you… caring for you. It was like nothing I had ever experience before. I couldn’t get you out of my head."

He kissed just below my ear and continued. "It was that night you know, after your accident, when I realised how much I liked you. No-one has ever made me feel like this. I can't explain it. I just want you so much that it physically hurts."

I embraced him tightly, wrapping my arms and legs around him like a spider monkey. “You don't need to explain it. I feel the same way too."

He regarded me over shy eyes. "Really?"

I kissed his nose. "Really."

"Well come here then, I want to see how you taste.”

“Tudor, you’ve kissed me a million times by now, you know how I taste.”

His eyebrows danced villainously. “Not everywhere I don’t.”

He picked me up as if I weighed nothing and pushed me back against the hot tub wall, balancing my backside and holding my hips up on the ledge. He started kissing me on my mouth and continued travelling south. I sucked in a breath as he reached the bottom of my stomach.

I think I can probably leave the rest to your own imagination, but let’s just say, I found out that night that Tudor would have made a fantastic synchronised swimmer!

Chapter 21

Breaking the fantasy

“Wake up, sleeping beauty.”

I roused from my deep sleep to see Tudor towering over me in only his black Calvin Klein boxer briefs, holding a tray filled with scrambled eggs on toast, a huge cup of steaming-hot coffee and a clipped-to-size sunflower in a small, pink vase.

I cast a shy smile. “Morning, babes. What's all this?”

Tudor leaned down and pecked a kiss on the top of my head. “This, Sunshine, is breakfast in bed. A thoroughly deserved one too. And I like that you call me babes," he grinned and winked.

I sat up, letting the duvet fall to my waist, proudly showing off the goods, and took the flower from its vase to smell. “Where did you get this?”

He dropped down on the bed and ran a finger across my neck. “I had to pop out to get some eggs and I got you these. The rest are out there for you in a vase.” He pointed over his shoulder to the living room.

I gave him a brief thank-you kiss and stretched my arms high, easing the cricks from my overused body, and glanced to the window, noticing that it was still early and the sun was still rising.

My eyes squinted at the blindingly-bright glare. “What time is it?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “About eight a.m.”

My mouth dropped in disbelief. “Then why the heck are we up? We didn’t even get to bed until after three this morning!”

He just pursed his lips and waggled his eyebrows at me. We had spent most of the previous night in the hot tub, lazing and talking, finding out more little details about one another and just ignoring the real world for a little while. At around one in the morning, we had grown hungry and made some pancakes and brought them back to bed. I giggled quietly as I looked over to the bedside cabinet at the half-eaten midnight snack, blushing at the memory of why it had never been finished. I ran my hand down to my stomach, still sticky from the maple syrup, and smiled at the 9 ½ weeks-esque direction the night had taken.

Tudor, noticing my train of thought, shuffled down the bed and lapped at the residue on my belly. “Mmm… still delicious, and definitely something we will do again.”