Laura’s brow knotted. “You’re not at work? You’re not sick, are you?”

  “What? Oh! No. I’m taking some time off. I’ve got some things I need to attend to so I wanted a rational mind to think about what happens next.” She moved with speed, now gathering up her bags. “I’ll see you Saturday.” On those hasty words she beat a retreat.

  Micah finished the last stroke and stood back, wondering what Davina would say when she saw this piece. Even as he considered it, tapping footsteps hurried in his direction and he whipped around as his agent whirled into the room.

  “How’s my favourite client going today? Achieving…” Her voice died away and the need to growl rose in his throat.

  “No.”

  “Micah, it’s amazing.” The breathlessness of her voice told him all he needed to know. “It’s going to be a hell of a headliner at the showing.”

  He turned the easel around, feeling that her peering at the work was an invasion of his privacy. He’d never felt this with Karen, but then, this piece was intimate. Only for him and Davina.

  “No. It’s not going into the showing, Karen. This one is not for public display, yeah?”

  She frowned. “But there’s such depth and…” Her gaze sharpened. Lips twitching. A grin emerged and his gut clenched, a premonition of what was about to come hammering into him. “You’ve fallen for her, haven’t you? That’s why you won’t let me show it off. Well, lucky her and bad luck for all the other women in the world. But that doesn’t fix the issue of a headliner.”

  “I have something else in mind,” he growled, and she raised her eyebrow.

  “And?”

  He stomped to a canvas he’d stashed earlier in the day for her to see. “Here.”

  It was a moonscape, shades of onyx and deep sapphire, lit with a bright yellow/white moon and trees that almost leaped off the canvas. Each move to the side appeared to affect them like a breeze.

  “It’s marvellous. Stunning. Not as good as the portrait, but your work has stepped up another level,” she enthused, eyes glowing.

  “Yeah, well, now you know. So, I’ve got twenty as per request.”

  Karen gave a sigh. “It’s such a small gallery, showing only highly sought-after pieces and artists. If you have anything to bring home when the showing is over, I’d be surprised. You’ll need to get to work quickly. I’ve had a request from a gallery in London and another in New York for your works.”

  “Yep. Sure.” His attention settled somewhere over her shoulder and Karen blinked.

  “Are you listening Micah?” Of course, he wasn’t. Davina stood in the doorway, smiling at him.

  “Karen, isn’t it?” Davina entered quietly and Karen whirled around.

  “Yes, and there you are Davina. Well, whatever you’ve done to Micah, keep it up. His work is amazing.”

  Karen scooped up her capacious black bag. “I’m going. Micah, I’ll need an inventory from you by the end of the week and we’ll need to arrange for the framing.” She sashayed from the studio, Davina’s eyes following her.

  “She’s a force to be reckoned with.”

  He laughed. “True, but she’s not the one for me. That’s you.”

  Davina allowed her mouth to tick into a small smile, with just an upturn of the corner of her lips. “You amaze me. But anyway, I uh, would you like to come to a family lunch with my…? My father and his wife, Laura, invited us.”

  “Sure. Where and when?” he asked, wiping his hands clear of the chalk dust, then leaning in for a soft drugging kiss.

  Davina pulled back. “Go shower first and I’ll kiss you properly.”

  His laugh echoed as he grabbed her hand and towed her behind him. “Only if you agree to wash my back.”

  Chapter

  Eighteen

  Davina tugged at the dress she wore for maybe the millionth time. “You’re sure this is okay?”

  Micah rolled his eyes and turned off the car. “You look fantastic. Good enough to eat, which I fully intend to when we get back.”

  Davina coughed, spluttered, then laughed. “Maybe you should ask first. You know, like it says in the manuals?” The banter soothed her ragged nerves as they climbed out of the car.

  “True. That’s the way to enlightenment.” Micah grabbed her hand and together they headed into the restaurant. They gave the party name at the stand and were quickly pointed to the back of the room, where Laura and her father sat.

  The children conspicuous by their absence and Davina frowned.

  “Something wrong,” Micah asked.

  Biting her lip, Davina answered, “I thought it was a family lunch.” Her head whirled with the range of reasons this may be, though she moved toward the table.

  Laura rose, as did her father. The air between them strained.

  “Thanks for coming, Davina,” her father muttered, and Laura looked close to tears.

  “What’s wrong?” Micah’s voice slid between the couples, a barrier and a question.

  “The children didn’t want to come, so we arranged a babysitter. The move has unsettled them, but I wanted today to be about family,” Laura spoke quietly, and the gaze she shot at her older husband was pleading.

  It felt intimate to Davina’s way of thinking. Something she really wasn’t sure she was ready to comprehend.

  They settled in their seats; the waiter doing the rounds asking what they’d like to drink, and Davina felt deep surprise at the way her father took Laura’s hand, ordering two tonic waters for them, while she and Micah settled on a glass of white wine.

  “So, Davina. Did you accomplish everything you planned to do the other day?” Laura’s voice broke through the uncomfortable air.

  “Oh, well, yes and no.” How did she explain to her stepmother she had almost no experience with family life? It was clear his wife wanted to change the situation, but where did Davina fit into the picture? Then she also needed to add that into the mix, that she was about to embark on a career change. And Micah.

  Micah rubbed soothing circles on her back, showing he was aware of her concerns. “She’s thinking of making some changes in her life,” he said, and all eyes settled on Micah.

  Davina felt both grateful and nervous about the change of tactics. Especially when her father’s gaze narrowed.

  “And I don’t know you.”

  “I’m Micah McKay. Thirty-six and a Pastellist. I’m about to embark on a showing at the Radcliffe Gallery and my agent has been contacted by galleries overseas.” Micah’s movements didn’t change, and she understood it was because he was comfortable, assured in who he was and what he did.

  “You’re a painter?” Her father leaned closer. “Making money?”

  Micah laughed while Davina cringed.

  “I do pretty well for myself, own my own home in Hatherington, with a view of Night Rocks from the porch. My car is new, and I have a reasonable amount of cash in my account.”

  “Micah!” Davina gasped, “Micah!” just as Laura did, similar to her father.

  Micah laughed and her father grunted. “Just wanted to know a little about him.”

  Davina shot a look of anger at her father. “I’m not sure you’re deserving of the information. You—”

  “Davina, wait.” Micah murmured in her ear, and she stilled, turning just enough to see his face and the intensity of the gaze.

  “I know you feel I left you all those years ago, Davina. I’ve wanted to talk to you for a long time, but you’ve always been defensive. Unwilling to hear.”

  The drinks finally arrived, and Davina took a sip, wondering how she could stem from this conversation.

  “Look. I get that now you're back in town. It feels uncomfortable having me living in the same area and not ‘close’, but I’m all grown up. I don’t need a Daddy. I also don’t want to be the answer to your wounded pride when you look back.” She made to rise, hurt scalding deep inside.

  “I didn’t want to leave. I started proceedings to take you with me, but my lawyer said I’d never get custody, but I rang every day for months. Your mother said you didn’t want to talk to me.”

  Like the air sucked out of a balloon, Davina dropped, deflated, into her seat. “No.”

  Micah’s arm wound around her, the supportive anchor in a sea of hurt and regret. Could mum have done this to me? The answer was yes, she could. But if she had…

  “So, why did you wait so long? Why didn’t you fight for me?”

  Her father shook his head, his eyes glittering with moisture. “You were a girl, and my life was filled with my work. Surgeons aren’t home much, so how could I parent you properly? Then I remarried. Dave was born, and you were older. I didn’t know how to reconnect. Time passed, Davina. Time that I should have spent with you. Every year I sent presents for Christmas and birthdays, but I kept my distance, waiting for you to come to me. It was only after Laura and I married I decided to try again.”

  Laura reached out. Her hand grasping Davina’s cold skin. “He regrets the years, Davina. Please. We want to know you. To be part of your life.”

  “I can’t—”

  Words failed and once more Micah came to the rescue. “Maybe enough has been said for today. Why don’t we order and just enjoy lunch together?”

  Davina ordered, ate, but her mind was engaged in thinking over actions, words. What had gone before.

  The years she’d spent unwanted and merely an appendage to parents too self-involved to care for her.

  The air at the table was thick, and when Davina and Micah made to leave, Laura pressed an envelope into her hand. “You don’t have to come, but I’d appreciate your presence.”

  Still far too upset to think further, Davina shoved the envelope into her bag and together she and Micah left the restaurant in silence.

  Chapter

  Nineteen

  Micah thought over what Laura and Ashton—Davina’s father—said. He’d wanted to keep in contact. The thing was, Ashton hadn’t, and Davina had suffered. Even now, face averted from him, as she struggled with emotions that ravaged her. Her shoulders shaking, hands tightly clenched.

  What to do? His mind churned. They were lovers, emotionally engaged, but enough for him to say anything that would mean enough? That he didn’t know.

  They arrived home, and she remained quiet. Subdued.

  His chest ached as pain radiated from the woman beside him.

  It grew, blooming until he could stand it no longer. He rose, reached out a hand, and pulled her with him to his bedroom. Pleasure. He’d give her that if nothing else. From the draw at the base of the bed, he tugged out a large bath sheet and flicked it onto the bed, all the while Davina watched him.

  “Lie down but take off your clothes.”

  Her eyes asked the question.

  Micah cupped her face. “For you. Tonight, the pleasure is yours, Davina. Let me care for you as no one else has or can.”

  She reached her hands up, and started stripping while he moved around the room, matches setting alight candles. The heady fragrances of lavender and ginger filling his senses. In the tiny bathroom, he found the rose scented massage oil he’d bought, then discarded it for lemongrass, the bottles clinking.

  When he re-entered the room, she’d already chosen music, and it played softly in the flickering light.

  Micah divested himself of clothing, wishing they’d both bathed, but this had been a spur-of-the-moment decision and he would not kill the mood with a demand.

  Davina had mounded the pillows, and she lay on her stomach, eyes closed.

  “Comfortable?”

  “Yes.” It was the first word she’d spoken in over an hour, and he wondered if it meant she’d relaxed her guard a little.

  It gave him heart, and he climbed onto the bed, stationed himself at her feet and looked at the miles of bare skin. “I’m going to touch you, Davina.”

  “Mmm…” she responded.

  He twisted the cap, poured the oil into his cupped hand and set the bottle on the table beside the bed, while the liquid in his palm warmed.

  With slow moves, he set it to the skin of her calf and made careful moves up and down, determined to only serve her needs. Those of his body, the throb of arousal he ignored. Her skin shone in the light, flickering, and the scents heightened his awareness as muscles quivered and jumped beneath his ministrations. Over her derriere, and here he slid his fingers a little longer than normal, enjoying the way she responded to his touch.

  Reaching her shoulders, he felt the tension and fine tremors that wracked her.

  “Would you turn over for me, Davina?”

  He heard the throatiness of his request and heard the sigh of her agreement as she moved.

  His loins tightened further, the ache in his groin intense as her eyelids, half mast, couldn’t disguise her arousal. The jut of nipples, cherry pink and the way she couldn’t quite remain still.

  “Micah?” The word she spoke, husky with sensual hunger.

  “No. Not yet. Pleasure.” It took everything to continue cupping the oil again and applying it. He started with her feet, and she moaned. He moved the motions to her legs, and she shifted, widening them so he could access her inner thigh. His hands glanced at the folds that hid the intimate skin, breath stolen as she shifted, the hairs brushing over his knuckles.

  Her belly quaked when he reached it and even before he approached where chest became breasts, sweat poured down his back.

  “Come to me, Micah.”

  Her lips opened and heaven help him, he couldn’t resist the siren call of her voice. Leaning in was the only option, and he gave himself over to sharing the pleasure he’d so badly wanted her to enjoy.

  Their lips clung. Mated. Soft, drugging kisses that pulled him further into her sensual web.

  The gentle touch of her, tugging him closer so their bodies slid together, every move erotic and subtly fragrant, the oil on her skin heating further.

  Now he wrapped himself around her, arms holding her close while he felt the hammering measure of her heartbeat.

  Fingers speared through hair as tongues clashed and danced, his feet pushing her legs apart.

  Chest straining, he pulled away. “I wanted you to feel cared for, Davina. Not taken from.”

  Her smile, intimate and knowing, captured him, nearly breaking his heart. “I know. But I want this with you, Micah.”

  Davina scooted down the bed, settled herself with her gaze fully on him. “Come inside me, Micah. Share your body with mine.”

  His hand slid down her length, over skin that undulated beneath his glancing touch, and slid between her legs. “Like this?”

  Her throat moved; her eyes closed. “Not. More. You. All of you.”

  He laughed, strained though it was. “More?”

  Now he positioned himself, the head of his cock nudging at her. “Like this?”

  “Oh, yes.” The whisper called and drugged him, urged him as he nudged his hips, watching as the tip slid within her.

  A gentle movement, only a slight arching, but he slid all the way. Home.

  “I love you, Davina.” The words burst from him as his hands found grip on her hips and the dance, aeons old, began.

  He thrust, and she crooned. Her hands curled into the bedding, as if she sought something to ground her.

  The heat inside him blooming. Warmth spreading and the need, so all-consuming, welled. A dam ready to overflow, and now the hunger gnawed at him, while every move they made fed the ravening beast that lived inside of him.

  “Mine,” he growled.

  “All yours,” Davina agreed, the cry thin as the sensation of her orgasm milked him.

  “Micah!” This time she arched off the bed, eyes open yet blind in the throes of her passion and he let go, released himself with a last move. Jetted deeply inside her as his chest bellowed.

  He strained.

  Muscles corded and fingers bit deep.

  Time had no meaning, only the touch of Davina.

  Of love.

  Time passed, and his body calmed. Now he moved slowly, languor giving his limbs a soft feeling.

  Sated, Micah rolled to the side, taking her with him, keeping her close. Against his heart, where she belonged.

  “Did you mean it?” Her voice sounded thready, as if the emotions were too much for her to hold on to.

  “Yes, Davina.” In his mind, there was no question. She completed him.

  She clutched at him. “Don’t leave me. Don’t let me go,” the demand echoed through him.

  “Never.”

  Davina’s fingers tapped on the keyboard of the computer.

  Her mind whirled with the words Micah had spoken the night before. I want to believe him.

  So much in her life had changed in the last few months and she felt at sea. Confused.

  The whole idea of love scared her. She wanted, desperately, to take his words at face value. Nothing about her life was what she’d expected or planned for. She’d been so sure that being alone and protecting her heart was the only answer. Then there was work. It no longer fulfilled her instead, it had beaten her down. Reinforced what she’d ‘known’ so she’d been isolated. Now she wanted more.

  Biting her lip, Davina refocused on the screen before her. So many kinds of law. Criminal law didn’t appeal. The negative emotions she’d experienced with family law reinforcing she wanted—needed—something that would fill the emptiness that she now carried inside her.

  But what did that leave? Commercial law would allow her to go home at night, but did it give her the satisfaction she sought? Something else came into view and she tapped a key, opening a new screen.

  Her phone buzzed and without thought, Davina answered, “Hello?”

  “Davina Ann. I tried ringing earlier, but you didn’t answer.” Mother.

  “Sorry, I got caught up.” And she had. With Micah. The memory brought a smile to her lips. She’d meant to ring back, but he’d caught her sneaking into the shower and one thing led to another.

  “Well, I was talking to Sandra Freeson today. She said she’d seen something odd and couldn’t wait to tell me all about it. Her daughter, Alison, is married to that nice doctor James McMurtry, and they were at lunch yesterday.” Same as ever. Davina scanned the screen, looking at the information presented before her, half listening to her mother’s chatter.