His eyebrows rose, but he nodded. His voice was hoarse and filled with desire. He pulled her dress straps back onto her shoulders and put space between them. ‘It’s okay. We don’t have to. It’s okay.’

Geez. Did he have to be such a gentleman? ‘I didn’t mean I don’t want to. I mean, I can’t do it in the light.’

‘What? Are you a bat or something? A vampire? Couldn’t you have mentioned it before? It’s a bit late to disclose something like that when we’re on the verge of… this.’ A soft chuckle escaped his throat, and he stuck his neck towards her. ‘Go on, bite me.’

‘You might regret saying that.’ She couldn’t help smiling through the embarrassment that flooded her cheeks. ‘But, I mean, not with the light on. Please. There’s just too much of me.’

‘For God’s sake, Jenna Cassidy-Pearce. There is nowhere near enough of you. The world needs more of you.’ He drew her to him and kissed her hard, his fist wrapping over and over in her hair. ‘Your hair drives me crazy. Every time I see you, I imagine it splayed over my pillow. Who knew hair could be such a turn-on?’

So she had good hair. That didn’t mean he’d find the rest of her body quite so attractive. ‘I meant this…’ She lifted her hem a little, plucked at her cellulite and squeezed. ‘This.’

‘Yum.’ He playfully squeezed too, then ran his palm up her side, to her ribcage, making her shiver with need, wishing he’d touch her most intimate parts. He whispered close to her ear, his breath tickling, caressing the back of her neck, making her squirm into his touch. ‘Gorgeous.’

‘But how…? Why…? When you spent all those years with amazing women who were fit and thin and clever, how can you want me when I’m like this? When I look like this?’

‘Like what? Your skin is amazing. There’s a sheen on it that makes me want to run my hand over it just to see how it feels. To put my mouth here… and here…’ He kissed the hollow of her throat and the top of her left breast. ‘Your eyes are mesmerising. I’ve never seen such clear green pupils before. And they tell me exactly what you’re thinking, even though you try to hide it. A few minutes ago, you wanted to sleep with me, now you’re scared. Why?’

So many reasons. She picked the most pressing one. ‘I’m fat, Nick. I don’t want you to see me naked.’ There, she’d said it. She got up to leave.

‘Whoa, stop right there.’ He pulled her back to the bed and tipped her chin so she could see his eyes. ‘Is that what you think I see? Is that what you want me to see?’

‘I’m just trying to warn you.’

‘About what? Drawing attention to what you think are flaws so I, what? What are you expecting I’ll do? Walk away?’

Tears pricked her eyes. Yes, she was pushing him away because she was scared. It wasn’t just the size of her body; it was the huge risk to her heart. To her everything. ‘I guess.’

‘Is that who you think I am? ‘

‘No. You’re not like that.’ He was good and kind and loyal and very hot. He wouldn’t walk away for such a superficial reason. Although it had never felt superficial to her. It had broken her heart many times when she’d looked in the mirror and seen how much she’d changed. But he didn’t make her feel like that. He made her feel amazing.

‘Jenna, I love the way you look. I love the way you smell. I love the way your waist curves in. The way your hips move when you walk—they make me want to hold you and move with you. God no, they command me to hold you.’

‘I’m a lot different from when we were at school, all tiny hips and thigh gap. You’ve changed for the better… wow, so much better. And I’ve changed so much I’m barely recognisable.’

‘I liked you at high school for who you were, not for your thigh gap, which, by the way, I never even noticed. Give me real and lush and magnificent any day. I think you’re amazing and beautiful and fun. You’ve been through a nightmare—one I can’t even begin to understand—and you’ve come out the other side with a child you can be proud of.’

‘She vomited on your shoes and drew in your police pocketbook.’

‘She’s three. Stop trying for everything to be beyond perfect.’

‘I want to be. I want to be a size skinny with perfect hair and the best behaved kid in the world. I want to be the most successful florist in West London. I want—’

He pressed his mouth on to hers, and for a moment, she couldn’t say anything. Didn’t want to. When he pulled away, he kissed her forehead in the kind of gesture she’d missed so much. The casual intimacy of lovers. Her heart squeezed with emotion. She wanted time to stop and it be just her and Nick, like this, for as long as absolutely possible.

‘Be who you are, Jenna. Don’t change, please. I happen to like you just the way you are.’

‘You do?’ Don’t change. She could barely breathe.

‘If you could only see yourself through my eyes. Your hair. Your eyes. Your curves. Your skin.’ His hand strayed to her backside and he stroked, smiling. ‘Your backside—on my lap. All the time. Okay?’

‘Yes. Thank you. I get the message.’ Wow. He really did like her. Her heart leapt.

But he got serious all of a sudden. ‘But I don’t just see the wrapping, Jen. Believe me, that could change in an instant. I’ve seen supposedly flawless women shattered by bombs. I’ve seen men with magazine looks devastated by gunfire and forced to wear treatment masks for years. People who have scars and horrific injuries clinging to life, glad to be alive, glad to have another chance, pushing themselves beyond image and capability and achieving fantastic things. And I’ve known people who can’t cope with how they look and how they’ve changed, and who take their lives. But you, Jenna, wow.’ He pressed a kiss to her mouth, her throat, her décolletage, then eased her hand away from her dress, letting the fabric pool around her waist. She went to cover her bra with her hand but he moved it away. And smiled. ‘I see a beautiful woman who is modest and humble and funny and kind and very, very sexy. So damned sexy I have to control myself not to do indecent things in public.’

She pointed to the stretch marks across the top of her breasts. ‘These are ugly.’

‘Crap. They’re beautiful. I see a woman, a goddess and, trust me on this, I want to dive right in there and never come out.’

‘Come on, be honest, they’re bumpy and horrible.’

‘Everyone has something, at least all the best people do. You want to see mine?’ He lifted his shirt and showed her a pale barely-there tiny silver line across the sun-kissed skin in his abdomen. Barely there, but still there. Older than hers and well faded.

And certainly far from ugly. It was just a part of him. Didn’t detract from him, didn’t make him any less attractive, or more so. Maybe that’s how hers looked to him? Just thin silvery lines. No more, no less. ‘From?’

‘Appendicitis. No one is perfect, Jenna. But you’re the damned closest I’ve ever met.’ He turned back to her, and his fingers trailed down her throat to her collarbone, to where her fingers still rested at the top of her bra. He traced the silvery lines. ‘I see a woman who kept me sane when I thought I was going crazy. When I was crazy. I see someone who cared enough for me to urge me to keep going when I didn’t have anything to keep going for, except for her belief in me.’

She blinked. ‘I did that?’

‘You didn’t know?’

‘Never.’

‘I should have told you.’ He leaned in, cupped her face and kissed her, slowly, carefully, beautifully. Like a soft song of praise to her, reverent. He made her feel like a goddess. A queen. She’d kept him sane? She’d been going through hell herself, so how the heck she’d kept him sane she didn’t know.

She pulled away from his wonderful mouth. ‘Tell me now.’

‘This is not the time or—’

She put her finger on his lips. ‘I think we’ve been through that. Tell me.’

He took hold of her finger, closed his hand around hers and held it close to his chest. ‘For a while after the IED, I didn’t want to exist if my partners couldn’t. I hated everything and everyone, and I showed it. I put myself in stupid, risky situations and didn’t care if I lived or died. I had nothing to live for. Helen was gone, my baby, my mates…. I was on the edge, very close. All I could see was blackness, futility. Like you, I craved the night, craved oblivion, and hoped I never made morning.’

‘I’m so glad you did make it. Every day since. I’m glad you’re here now.’ She sidled closer to him, ran her free hand over his jaw. ‘I am so glad you’re here.’

‘Believe me, right now, I am too.’ He kissed her fingertips. ‘One day your email popped into my inbox and I read about how hard you were fighting to survive and how you were certain that one day we’d get through all of this and have a drink together. And that was my goal. That was what made me work to get through the darkness.’

She felt the smile and relief flood her body. ‘I’m glad I helped.’

‘You’re helping a lot right now.’ His forefinger and thumb riffled the red lace at the top of her black silk bra and the mood took a distinct turn for the sexy. ‘Geez, this is such a turn-on.’

‘I wore it especially for you.’

‘I am very happy about that. Is it a matching set?’ He skimmed her ribcage, down her belly.

She melted under his touch. Heat suffusing every pore. Heat and want and need. ‘Maybe…’

‘Can I …?’ He tugged at the hemline of her dress, and she let him slide his hand up her thigh until… almost….

She lifted her dress to reveal the edge of her panty line. ‘Matching set.’

‘God.’ He groaned. ‘What I see is someone beautiful and pure and honest and worth living for.’ He reached round to her back, unclipped her bra and her breasts fell free. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes wide. ‘And, oh my God. Hell. I love these. I want to—no, you really don’t know what I want to do with these. You’re blowing my mind. You are so sexy. Too much.’

‘So are you. And a little overdressed.’

He thought she was sexy. He made her feel sexy. He made her want to do so many things. Good things. Bad things. Very bad things. Right this minute. She shimmied his shirt from his back. That suntan went all the way to the top of his trousers, and there she palmed his erection, finding out exactly how much she turned him on.

He sucked in another breath as she undid first his button, then the zip, shucked off his trousers, tugged down his boxers and took him in her hand. Hot. Ready for her.

He arched his back at her touch. ‘Hell, woman. The things you do to me.’ But he moved her hand away, slid her dress off over her head and lay her down, kissing a trail down her body, over her nipples. As he sucked one into his mouth, she felt tiny explosions of fire pop inside her.

She arched against him now, pressing her body against his, feeling the hard heat of him against her belly. ‘Please, Nick… you’re driving me crazy.’

‘I haven’t started yet.’ He laughed and kissed lower and lower, parting her legs and slipping her panties off. Slowly he began to circle his tongue over her until she was wild and wet and moaning his name. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the pressure of his mouth on her most intimate parts, the heat of his breath, the pulsing of her hips to the rhythm of his tongue, and felt herself spiralling…

Just as she thought she was going to lose all control, he pulled away, kissed his way back up her body and feasted on her breasts. His fingers took over where his tongue had been, sliding inside her, deep, making her squirm against him, aching for more, demanding more. She was so close to the edge. Too close. Her brain mush. She bucked against him.

‘Oh God. That is so… I want you… so much.’ She had no more words. She had barely any breath. All she wanted was him inside her. Now. All she wanted was Nick. Now. Tomorrow. Forever. He made her believe in the impossible. He made her believe in a future.

She wrapped her leg around his waist and pulled him hard against her, feeling the hot, hard pressure of him against her. She reached for his erection and started to stroke along his length until he tugged away from her.

He laughed against her heart. Then he straightened and brushed her hair back from her face. His eyes blazed with desire. And more. So much more. ‘Seriously. Are you sure?’

Was she? Doubt seeped into her head, pushing through her frantic need. This was stupid. It would break their friendship. She would lose him.

But she thought about Ollie and how, on that dark day when he didn’t come home, she’d taken him for granted, taken happiness for granted. How she’d have given anything to have him back one more day so she could tell him, show him how important he was to her. How many, many times she’d wished she’d shown him.

Nick was here. His touch made her skin sing. His kisses were divine. They both knew, they both understood, there could be no promises. But there could be a present. A moment. Something they could share forever. ‘God, yes. I want you inside me, Nick. Now.’

‘Condom?’

‘Oh. Yes. Take your pick, sir.’ Laughing, she pulled open the drawer in her bedside cabinet and showed him the array of supplies. Thank God Chloe had made her go into that shop. ‘Condoms aplenty.’

He broke open a packet and sheathed, but his eyes darted back to the drawer brimming with lube and rubber. ‘Well, you’re certainly prepared. What’s the smile for?’

‘I’ll tell you later.’ She pulled him down to her and kissed him so hard she thought she might lose all sensibility. Then he was nudging into her, slowly at first, gently.

She gasped. He was big. She was… tense. Maybe she needed Slide and Glide and Sticky and Silky. And now she was sounding like Snow White and the four bloody lube tubes.

Basically, she was no good at this.

Nick paused, his face wracked with concern. ‘I don’t want to hurt you.’

‘It’s been so long.’ She felt the catch in her throat. A tear slid down the side of her face and pooled in her ear. Her body was letting her down, but she needed him so much. ‘But don’t you bloody well stop now.’

He kissed her again, a dark growl at his throat. His lips caressed hers passionately until she had no thought, only sensation.

She raised her hips and clutched his butt, pulling him deep into her, filling her. Complete. Perfect. The only friction was a delicious pressure, and she wanted more and more and more…

And then all thoughts left her; all she was aware of was Nick, his kisses, his hands on her face, wiping her tears. His mouth kissing them away. His smell. His thrusts, deep and slow, sending shock waves of pleasure through her. He knew when to thrust, when to hold back, knew how to please her, knew what made her cry out in delight.

She arched with every thrust, urging him to go deeper, to rock harder. She wrapped her arms round his neck, feeling his muscles work as he slid into her. Again and again.

‘Beautiful,’ he whispered. ‘So damned beautiful.’

And it was. This was. He was. He stripped away all her fears, all her anxieties and blasted her heart open to more possibilities, to hope and joy and bliss.

His eyes opened, his thrusts became more intense and he captured her gaze, dark and beautiful. She caught the promises he made, caught the things his body expressed to her in his silence. Then she heard her own voice calling his name as he took her to the edge and over.

---

‘Well, wow, Jenna, you surprise me more and more every day,’ Nick whispered to her as she snuggled against him, hot and tired and sated. He felt wide awake. Blown open.

The intensity of her need had been a real turn-on, but he was more surprised by the intensity of the ache in his chest that just wouldn’t go away. Something fundamental had happened there. It hadn’t been just sex. It had been a whole lot more. The kind of connection that didn’t happen often—maybe once in a lifetime, if you were lucky.

Her hair splayed across the white pillow; her infectious smile lit up the room. She covered her mouth as she yawned. ‘That was so good. So very good.’

‘Good? That should go down in the Guinness Book of Records.’

‘Probably not under the longest friendship section. We are still friends, right?’

‘Of course we are. More than anything.’ If anything meant mind-blowing sex and a myriad of complex emotions and the best kind of feeling with a soft, naked woman in bed with you. He reached over and stroked the underside of her breast. Smooth silk. Under his fingers, he felt the regular beat of her heart. Jenna. The one constant through everything. Would they still be friends if this ended? Could they be?

Now everything was complicated. She’d pretty much saved his life, saved his faith in the human race, and now given him the best sex he’d ever had. He liked having her around. He wanted to have her around a whole lot longer. But what would that mean? What if it ended?

What if it didn’t?

He shifted across the bed, knocking his elbow on the bedside table. Then he remembered. ‘So what’s with the lifetime supply of condoms? You win a raffle or something?’

Hiding under the covers, she said, ‘You do not want to know. I think it was the most embarrassing day of my whole life.’

‘Now I really do want to know.’ He pulled the covers back and kissed her, because he couldn’t not. ‘Tell me.’

‘This isn’t the time—’

‘Come one now, Jenna. Friends don’t have secrets. Friends can tell friends anything, any time… so you keep saying.’ He pulled open the drawer and pulled out far more condoms than he’d used in his entire life and a variety of slip’n’slides. He held two towards her.

She shrugged and gave him a teasing smile. ‘So, I’ve got a large number of sexy supplies. I’m not saying a word. I’d rather do a show and tell than relive that shopping hell. We’ve a lot to get through.’

She reached under the covers and stroked up his thigh, made a pretty decent search and seek of his man parts, and God, the woman knew how to turn him on. But there was a story here. She was burning with embarrassment, but she was also laughing. The sparkle in her eyes made the green intense, like dew-kissed grass. More damned poetry, he’d be writing a book soon enough. ‘Come on, Jenna, I want you to tell me.’

‘I’d rather die.’ She twisted, sat up and straddled him, her breasts brushing against his face as she leaned forward. ‘Show and tell.’

‘No using the supplies until you’ve told me the story.’ He held her by the arms, and it took every single thread of self-control not to sit up and take one of those ripe, pink nipples into his mouth.

She taunted him with it, brushing the tip over his lips.

He kept his mouth firmly closed.

She leant even closer and pressed her lips against his.

He kept his mouth firmly closed.

‘Oh! Okay then.’ She burst out laughing and spilled a story about a chemist shop and a woman named Anthea and preferring to buy the lot than have an actual conversation. Knowing Jenna, she had died a thousand deaths.

‘You are damned good value, Jenna Cassidy-Pearce.’ He was shocked by the sharp ache in his chest as he looked at her. The emotions she instilled in him. He imagined being here every night, laughing and making love, and he couldn’t think of anything more damned perfect. He pulled her towards him, relishing the press of her breasts against his chest, the curl of her hair across his face, the luscious flowery smell that had him hard whenever he smelt it. ‘So, how do you like it, Jenna?’

He expected her to laugh like he did, but she stilled. She ran her hand across his face, over the stubble that had grazed her chin, and then over his top lip. ‘I like it with you, Chief Inspector Welsh.’

‘I’m nowhere near a chief inspector, but I like it with you, Mrs Cassidy-Pearce. Very much.’

The kiss she gave him then was different somehow. More intense, more imbued with meaning. This time she showed him and she told him exactly what she wanted. And he obliged.

---

Once he’d managed to haul air back into his lungs, he untangled himself from the sheet and her legs. ‘That should be the second entry into the Guinness Book of Records. We keep this up and we’ll have a whole section to ourselves.’ Every time was sensational. Every kiss better than the last. Every touch, every embrace, something off-the-scale special.

He had known it was going to be momentous, but not that he’d feel so affected by her. By this. By the tumbling, warring emotions inside of him. Happy but wary. Sated but wanting more. Desire but an overwhelming need to protect her.

From him, if he was honest. He tried not to dwell on that.

He took hold of her hand and kissed her fingers, one knuckle at a time. He paused when he reached her ring finger. The gold band she’d always worn had gone, and all that was there was a white line. ‘You took it off? I hadn’t realised.’

His gut kicked. This was a big deal.

‘It was time, you know.’ Her eyes flicked to a box on her bedside table. A little turquoise box just like the one he’d bought for Helen. Shit. It was a very big deal. She’d waited years to take her wedding ring off, and she’d done it just before he’d taken her on their non-date. She’d chosen him out of all the men in the world—three and a half billion males—to take a chance on. To move on with. Him.

He didn’t know how he felt about that. It was a huge responsibility to bear. To live up to. He didn’t know if he could. He’d left the chaos of Iraq to find peace. Slow. Uncomplicated. Calm. That was what he’d craved, and instead he was with a live-wire firecracker who wouldn’t know slow if it whacked her in the head.

Trouble was, he liked her. A lot. So much he suspected she had a lot to do with that ache in his chest. He hadn’t known how hard he could fall and how quickly. How dizzyingly out of control his emotions could get over a woman. And her little kid. Over the idea of family.

Jenna sat up suddenly, her hair matted and wiry and crazy, her eyes a little wild, breasts spilling over the top of the sheet. ‘Shit. Shit. Rings. I never even thought about rings. That’s the guy’s responsibility, right? Or something. The couple at least. We never have anything to do with that usually. What the hell? I need to find two rings that fit. How will I know his size? Her size? Oh, God. It’s all going to be a complete disaster.’

The wedding. They were back to that. Ah, yes. He wasn’t going to agree, but yes, it probably was going to flop, but not for the want of Jenna’s efforts. She’d put heart and soul into it, as she did everything in her life. But because, in his experience, people did like to keep control over the most important things in their lives. ‘You know what? Rings are something they’re going to wear for the rest of their lives. How about you just get two cheap and cheerful stand-in rings as symbols of their marriage and let them choose their own later?’

‘I knew there was a reason I liked you. Great idea.’ She kissed him hard on the lips. He didn’t want to think about wedding rings or anything else. Just her. Here. Now. ‘Shoot. Where would I get stand-in rings?’

‘I don’t know. Let’s talk about it later.’

‘Any ideas?’

‘I’ll sort it.’ He couldn’t think straight with that creamy skin on display. It was as if she’d given him a super-sized dose of Viagra. He ran his fingers down her spine. ‘Later.’

She turned around to look at him. Grinning. ‘You will? Really? Oh, that’s brilliant.’

And he couldn’t refuse her, not with that smile and those pleading eyes. ‘Yes. Later. Right now, I’m thinking about going for third time lucky for the record book.’

Her forehead creased a little. She was in full-on planning mode. ‘And would you be able to make sure he gets to the yoga studio? I asked his sous chef to bring him, but I’m not sure how reliable he is. I thought, maybe you could turn up at the restaurant in your uniform on the pretext of something. Ask him to accompany you to the station.’

‘For what exactly?’

‘I don’t know. I’m sure you can use your imagination.’ She tapped his temple. ‘Poirot.’

He grabbed her and pulled her onto him. ‘My imagination is already full of other things, Jenna. Things I want to do to you.’

‘After you’ve done them, could you please give Vaughn and his transport to his wedding some thought?’

Hot damn. He was all for a problem shared, but he wasn’t sure this wedding was the greatest idea she’d ever had. He didn’t want to break her heart, so he didn’t agree or disagree. ‘Couldn’t you ask someone else?’

‘On the groom’s side, I only know Chloe and you. Oh, and Jason. He’s Vaughn’s cousin and he was going to marry Chloe, until he jilted her at the altar. I can’t ask Jason to take Vaughn to marry Chloe, now can I? You’re my only option.’

He hadn’t a clue what she was saying. ‘It is far too complicated for a mere mortal to understand.’

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. Still grinning. ‘Bring Vaughn to the wedding. Think of a good excuse. Please.’

‘The only thing I want to think about is how damned sexy you are.’

She thought for a minute. Clearly she did have blood reaching her brain, unlike him. All his had gone south. ‘Can’t you say you want to catch up about Tyler? Or just for some yoga to stretch out the hamstrings after all that football you play together? I don’t know. You manage to find enough excuses to come round to see me.’

‘Yes, well, I don’t want to keep on kissing him.’

She put her hand to her heart. ‘Thank the Lord for that. Chloe would be cross.’

‘And you wouldn’t?’

‘Not if you brought Vaughn to his wedding.’

He had no reserves left to deny her. ‘Okay. Yep. I’ll work something out.’

‘You are the best man.’ She wrapped her arms round his neck and kissed him. ‘Metaphorically speaking. Hmmmm… now should I ask…? No, let’s just have the two of them, and Evie as flower girl. Simple.’

‘Simple? I’m having a very hard time keeping up.’

‘You managed all right the last two times.’ Now she gave him a dirty smile that was definitely all about sex, then ran her fingers through that mane of flame-red hair, fluffing it out so it fell over his face. ‘Let’s go for the hat trick.’

How the hell could he resist an offer like that?

But there was one thought that flitted through his brain and out again right before he kissed her some more; he was getting pulled further and further into her world. But he didn’t know if he was man enough to stay there.