been, of course, but whoever he had dated had been pretty knowledgeable. And a good teacher. I tried to keep images of Karen out of my head, and after a while it was easy to keep everything out of my head except this gorgeous man and the things he could do to the female body. I said, ‘Oh, God,’ and ‘Gabriel!’ so many times and with such fervour that anyone listening would have thought I was having a particularly intense religious experience, which was pretty close to what was happening.
He, in his turn, seemed to enjoy himself too. At the risk of being indiscreet, I’d have to say that, in bed, there was nothing soft about Gabriel Hunter.
And afterwards… ah, afterwards. That was almost the best bit, for a given definition of ‘best bit’ because the foregoing bits had been pretty damn spectacular. Afterwards, he swaddled me in the duvet and padded downstairs wearing my dressing gown, slim wrists and hairy legs protruding, and returned with the bottle of wine, which turned out to be quite posh champagne, and we lay together in a casual acceptance of limbs, taking it in turns to drink out of the bottle.
‘This is really good,’ I said, swigging in a very unladylike way that my mother would definitely not have approved of. Although I thought I’d rather shot my bolt today in ‘things my mother would approve of’.
‘Well, you were married to a guy who owned vineyards. I was hardly going to bring a bottle of Lambrini, was I?’ He raised his eyebrows at me. With his glasses off his eyes were huge. So dark they were practically mirrors, and prolifically lashed in a way that Poppy spent hours with expensive mascara trying to create.
‘It wouldn’t have mattered,’ I said quietly. ‘And I didn’t just mean the alcohol.’
‘No.’ His voice was equally quiet. ‘I know you didn’t.’ And the neck of the bottle was replaced by his mouth as he kissed me again. ‘I wanted you to have a bit of romance. I wanted it to be special.’
‘I’m glad I bothered to change the sheets, then,’ I said. ‘Although I rather think I may have to change them again now.’
A stronger-than-usual gust of wind hit the side of the house, caught in the guttering, which flapped, and sent all the windows into a spasm. There was a huge crash from somewhere outside and Gabriel climbed out of bed to peer through the rattling pane.
‘Massive branch down across the lane,’ he said. ‘That old oak about fifty metres up towards the main road. And all the road people are busy trying to clear the Bridport and Dorchester roads, so we’ll have to wait for a passing farmer with a tractor to drag it away. And what with the ford being flooded, looks like we’re trapped here. Oh dear, whatever shall we do?’
‘I can think of one or two things,’ I said and raised the bottle to him. The champagne was going to my head rather. I let it.
A while later we surfaced again. ‘I’m starving,’ I said. ‘Shall I cook us something?’
‘Mmm.’ He stretched his long body. I was amazed at how well he fitted in here, as though I’d chosen something in the homeware department of an exclusive shop and couldn’t stop looking at it in my actual house. ‘Also, I think we ought to tell Granny Mary.’
I stopped, halfway into a fleecy top. ‘About…?’ I indicated his nakedness and mimed a sort of bouncy-bouncy action. ‘Really?’
Gabriel lounged into an upright position. ‘About us, being together. I think she’ll approve, you know.’
‘How will we be able to tell?’
‘She’ll be mildly less acerbic. Come on, we can pop over to the caravan and then I’ll give you a hand in the kitchen.’ Then, reacting to my raised eyebrows, ‘What? I told you, I’m great at all indoor activities.’
‘Oh, aren’t you just?’ I said, with feeling.
‘Oh, hush, you’ll embarrass me. And, given what we’ve just been doing, that’s going to take some doing.’
We laughed at one another all the way down the stairs. There was something looser about him now; he looked less locked into his worry. Maybe now that I’d graphically proved to him that I didn’t find him unattractive or less than a man he found it easier to relax. Had he not truly believed me up until now? I didn’t know, but made a mental note to ask him. Later.
We splashed out across the orchard. Patrick wandered over to nuzzle our pockets, his