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Spent and listless with satisfaction, Britt watched as Nick drove into her, again and again, smooth and unrelenting.
She reignited, tensed, and climaxed at the same time he did, their cries mingling on the night air before fading away to contented silence.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Britt had gone.
Nick knew it the second he woke, not needing to open his eyes to see that she’d left. She was a part of him, always had been.
He hadn't been kidding when he'd told her about this room and his hopes she'd come back. Everyone returned home to their roots at some stage and he'd counted on it. She’d always been the only woman for him, and now she was his wife and they loved each other, nothing would stop them.
Then why was he lying here alone, and she was winging her way to the other side of the world again?
He'd let her get away once. Porca miseria. Never again.
But he couldn't control her, couldn't hold her back anymore than let her go. He understood her drive, her ambition, because the same need for success pounded through his veins.
So why the crazy feeling she'd left for good?
They hadn't resolved anything last night. He'd planned to talk, but his good intentions had crashed and burned around the time he'd been unable to keep his hands off her.
From there, all bets had been off as they'd pleasured each other repeatedly all night long, finally falling asleep around five a.m.
He didn't need to glance at his watch to know it had to be around nine now, the brightness of a cloudless Noosa sky indicative of the late hour.
He got out of bed and pulled on his pants, hopping and cursing alternately when his foot snagged on a sheet and he pitched off the dais.
Britt couldn't have got much of a head start and he needed to see her, needed to make sure she understood the depth of his feelings before she boarded that plane.
Shrugging into his shirt and caring little for the buttons, he strode to the door, his hand stilling on the knob as a glint of metal on the hallway table caught his eye.
The streaming sun reflected off the object, scattering prismatic shards of golden diamonds against the pristine walls. As he moved a fraction to the left and realised what the object was, his heart stopped.
It couldn't be.
He swept the ring into his palm, and juggled it like a hot coal, fury warring with disbelief.
Britt had taken off her wedding band and left it behind.
Which could only mean one thing.
She wanted out.
Santo cielo.
Shoving the ring deep in his pocket to eradicate the painful reminder of how much she didn't want him no matter what they shared, he yanked the door open.
He wasn't losing her without a fight.
Not this time.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Britt fiddled with her empty ring finger the entire twenty-four-hour flight to London.
Had she done the right thing?
With the skin rubbed raw where the wedding band had resided, she forced herself to stop tracing the faint tan line, folding her arms and tucking her hands safely out of fiddling reach.
