Page 108 of Her Brother's Billionaire Best Friend
“But what do we do now?” I said. I’d knelt beside him, as the enormous, strong man I knew I loved brought his hands up to his face, as if to hide himself from me. “We can’t go back. I can’t undo what I did.”
“I can’t unsay what I said,” he told me. “And I just know that at the bottom of it all, I’m like my dad. I would never have been a good father to Kyle.”
“Maybe that’s what Lucien thought,” I said. “Maybe it was useful for him. Maybe it justified his existence.”
He nodded, and looked up at me. His green eyes shone bright under the water and I reached out for his arm. He didn’t flinch, but didn’t take my hand. I put my little palm on Conor’s fist and stayed there, on one knee, shaking.
“But you don’t have that luxury,” I said. “You have a son. And he’s…he’s just like you, Conor. And he’s wonderful. Just like you.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“I do. And he needs his father. He always wished it was Lucien, not Conor. But a man who could be both…” I smiled. “Well, that man is maybe the best man I’ve ever known. Or ever will know. Even if Conor’s not the only one who got his heart broken all those years ago,” I sobbed.
“But you’re not the same person,” he said. “How can the Laura from then forgive the man here now?”
“If Laura had heard Conor say that,” I said, smiling. “Then she would never have run away.”
“What are you saying?” he told me, and as he turned to me and knelt up, his hands reaching out on naked instinct to pull me closer, to keep me here, I knew that I was stepping off a precipice again. Only this time, I had something better than promises or wishes. I had faith in the man beside me.
“I’m saying,” I said slowly, “that when you can’t go forward, you have to go back.”
Chapter 38
Laura
The sign on the porch of the hotel said WEDDING PARTY: 5th MAY. But we both knew there was no point telling people what time it started. After all, most of the whole town was invited.
In the back garden of the hotel, I could see them already, setting up white tables and pouring a tower of champagne. I was watching from the window of a light-blue Rolls Royce, driving us up through the valley and out of town. A marquee had been raised, like an enormous white sail in the center of the green vale, decorated with strings of colorful paper and bunting that fluttered in the breeze.
I was so distracted by the beauty of the scene that I couldn’t help but jump when a firm, strong hand rested on my shoulder. I turned around, staring at the handsome face of Conor.
He’d dressed his best for the occasion, in a tailored grey suit sent straight from Paris, with a white shirt and a dark jacquard tie. A beautiful white carnation was tied to his lapel, his beard neatly trimmed and his skin glistening in the sunlight.
“Sorry,” I said. “I guess I’m just…”
“Surprised?” he said softly, and beamed. Lucien had rarely ever smiled. But Conor smiled all the time these days. Conor. My Conor.
I looked down at my finger, and stared at the delicate gold band he’d placed around it at the ceremony. “I think I like it almost as much as the engagement ring,” I beamed.
“It looks perfect,” he growled, taking my hand in his, resting it in his lap. I felt like his most treasured thing, yet I knew I was somehow much more. It hadn’t even been a year since I was back in Caluga Falls. How had we managed to find ourselves back here? Back where it all began, the long road of loss and heartbreak that had somehow brought us back to each other?
By the time we arrived at Lakeview, Conor’s eyes were burning into me. I’d told him I wanted to come back here with him to change into my party dress for the reception. But he must have known. Surely he knew, as he took my hand and helped me out of the car, and we strode up to the house with my soft, silken dress trailing behind me, what I’d really brought him here for.
Lakeview looked different now, as we came through the door. Cards bearing messages of congratulations and thanks for Conor’s charitable works were sitting on the table in the hallway. And framed on the walls of the house were photographs, photographs of the pair of us, of Kyle. I’d hardly noticed the place changing over the last few months as we’d made our preparations for the wedding. But as I looked around the hallway, brightly lit and full of proof that a life was lived here—a real life—I realized that this place was going to be my home. And the thought of it thrilled me, more than I could have imagined.
“I guess I’ll let you get changed in peace,” purred Conor softly, his arm around my waist.
“No you won’t,” I said softly, as I turned my face up to his cheek and whispered in his ear. “Besides,” I added in a sultry whisper. “I’m going to be tired after the party. And this marriage needs consummating.”
Conor’s eyes widened as he understood, and he smiled. “I see,” he said. For all his masculine charm, his bravado and his bravery, I couldn’t help but feel excited at his gentlemanly courtesy. It had taken us a long time to get familiar with one another again, to accept that our innate physical chemistry couldn’t be ignored. Even if it had taken us so long to feel truly comfortable with one another. In the course of true love, things rarely run smooth. But I knew that with time, with work, with dedication, we’d closed that gap. Until not just our bodies but our souls were in a deep communion, a desire for each other that demanded satisfaction.
I took him upstairs to Conor’s bedroom. The room was almost exactly the same as it had been when I first came back to Caluga Falls, except for the fact that now the heavy reinforced door was gone. At the minute, I was using it to keep my clothes. But now the medals were hung on a wall, evidence of a life that was far away and yet worth remembering. A constant reminder of how we’d both battled every step of the way, to get here together.
As we stepped into the room I turned and threw my arms around Conor. I kissed him, savoring the taste of his lips, his freshly-brushed teeth and the scent of his elegant cologne he’d worn for the wedding. I pressed my arms around his body as I felt his heat, his need for me awaken at the smallest touch. He embraced me, running a hand around the curve of my waist. He growled with pleasure, breaking from our kiss briefly to inhale the scent of my body, his nose at my neck, his mouth kissing my collarbone. The way he possessed me was like no other, and it wasn’t long before my hands had slipped beneath his jacket and I was feeling the strong muscles of his abs.
“You know what you have to do now,” I sighed breathlessly. In between each desperate kiss, we fed one another in the comfort of my room.
“What is that, my love?” he said, and I felt light and my skin flushed to hear him call me that.