Free Swallowbrook's Winter Bride by Abigail Gordon

hurry to go. But at last they had all said their farewells and he’d seen his father safely into a taxi, so was free to go to the suites above to see where Libby had got to.
    The first thing that registered was that there was no Toby in the bed that he had laid him on. The second was the note on the pillow. As he read it his expression tightened. For God’s sake! What kind of upset was Libby referring to? Then he was out in the corridor and pushing back the door that she’d left unlocked.
    When he looked inside his face softened. His adopted son was asleep in the crook of the arm of the woman he could once have had if he hadn’t been too blind to see what had been under his nose.
    As he looked down at the smooth skin of her shoulders inside the flimsy slip and the rise and fall of her breasts as she slept beside the precious child who had been catapulted into his life, it was his turn to fight back the tears for the waste of the years and the mistakes that both of them had made.
    He hadn’t a clue what could have upset Toby to such an extent until he looked at what he was holding in his arms and as he observed it he gave a hollow groan. He’d forgotten to pack Toby’s comforter. How could he have done such a thing? Thank God, Libby had come up with a solution.
    His exclamation of dismay must have disturbed her. She had opened her eyes and was looking up at him.
    ‘Everything is all right,’ she whispered, and easing her arm from beneath the sleeping child she slid her legs over the side of the bed and stood before him.
    ‘I can’t believe that I forgot his comforter, of all things,’ he said wretchedly, ‘and lumbered you with the aftermath of my carelessness.’
    ‘Stop berating yourself,’ she told him. ‘You are marvellous to do what you do for Toby. He has told me that you are going to be his new daddy and seems fine with the idea. Forgetting to bring his mummy’s nightdress isn’t going to change that.’
    He was not to be consoled. ‘You must wish me a thousand miles away, Libby,’ he said bleakly. ‘I went out of your life a long time ago and have had the nerve to come bursting back into your planned existence as if by divine right.’
    She took a step forward and touched his face with gentle hands and suddenly nothing else mattered except themselves, not Toby sleeping contentedly beside them, the party that she’d seen little of or the practice that was their daytime rendezvous. There was peace between them for a few brief moments with no recriminations or hurts to spoil it, no bitterness or past mistakes hovering over them. It was a moment of supreme need with desire ruling their emotions.
    For the third time in Libby’s life Nathan was touching her and there was nothing casual about it this time. His mouth on hers was demanding, urgent, and she was responding with every fibre of her being.
    He took her hand and drew her towards the door of a small sitting room at the end of the bedroom and once inside turned the catch to prevent Toby walking in on them. Then he was slipping the black slip off her shoulders and kissing the cleft between her breasts.
    As their passion increased Nathan lowered her onto a sofa and as she gazed up at him in the moment before the climax of their desire Libby came to her senses.
    She’d already made one big mistake where Nathan was concerned, she thought. This could be another. This wild abandonment of common sense could lead to more heartbreak if she let it continue.
    He felt her change of mood as painfully as if it was a knife thrust and as she got slowly to her feet he placed the keys of the suite next door in her hand and said sombrely, ‘You can’t let go of the past, can you, Libby?
    ‘If you don’t mind swapping I’ll take over here and we’ll see you at breakfast. Do you need to take anything with you?’
    ‘Just the things I brought with me for an overnight stay,’ she said weakly, and flinging her belongings into her travel bag she wrapped herself