Knight and Day (The Knight Erotic Trilogy, book 3 of 3) (21 page)

Kara sat at a small, scrubbed pine table inside the Happy Days Beach Bar nursing her second cup of coffee of the morning, her eyes scanning the sand. The summer crowds had left the island now, leaving the beaches to a different clientele who took Ibizan life at a gentler pace. It was still early as she watched the sunbeds being laid out in ranks across the sands, their padded cream cushions a touch of luxury for the well-heeled off-season crowd.

She couldn’t see the Love Tug from her vantage point, but that was okay. She wasn’t in any hurry.

Dylan strapped Billy to his chest in the cotton baby-carrier that one of the boutique staff from the club had donated to him, along with a box of sleep suits and baby clothes. He’d been astounded by the power of the baby to melt hearts at twenty paces: one look at that shock of hair and big brown eyes and he had them in the palm of his little hand. Dylan hoped for Billy’s sake that his power over the opposite sex never dwindled.

“Come on, small guy. Daddy’s hungry.”

He made his way around the rocky path towards the beach, his path set for the bakery at the far end, his mind set on Kara.

Where was she this morning? Had she gone back to the villa? Lucien was due to go home to England over the next day or two, he’d have been around for her last night. The thought gladdened him. If there was any man he trusted to look out for Kara, that man was Lucien Knight.

Kara tensed as Dylan appeared on the beach. Her breath caught in her throat as she watched him walk by the cafe, barefoot and bare-chested aside from the baby carrier. Even from a distance she could see the baby’s startling shock of hair, and a smile touched her lips.

Dylan walked the beach with the ease of a local, pausing briefly to pass the time of day with the guy who dragged the sunbeds across the sands.

She saw him smile, and wanted his smile to be for her. She didn’t get up. Just watched him, sure of where he was heading.

She caught the eye of the waitress cleaning a nearby table and ordered another coffee, this time to take away.

Dylan walked slowly back along the beach, the warm, scented pastries in a brown paper bag in his hand. He’d visited the bakery as much out of habit as out of hunger; the familiarity of routine had become important in these most unsettling of days.

He chatted inanely to Billy as he walked back towards the boat, even though the baby couldn’t understand a word he said and was half way towards his morning snooze. He didn’t even notice that someone was walking towards him until she fell into step beside him on the sand.

“Hey, Sailor,” she said softly. “You forgot your jacket.”

“You’re supposed to be someplace else,” he said, gladdened beyond belief that she wasn’t. “Anywhere but here with me.”

“I have coffee?” she said, knowing that there was nowhere else in the world she'd rather be.

He held the bag up. “And I have pastries.”

She moved towards a sun-bed set beneath a thatched umbrella close to the azure shoreline and sat down. Dylan sat alongside her, Billy fast asleep on his chest. Kara looked down at him for a few long, silent seconds.

“That’s some hairstyle.”

“I know. I kind of like it.”

“Me too.” She reached out and touched a soft strand of it. “He has a good name.”

“The best,” Dylan said without missing a beat.

She nodded. “Can I still call you Dylan?”

He stroked the baby’s hair and sighed.

“It’s just a name, Kara. I’m still the same man, and for what it’s worth, I was more myself with you than I’ve ever been with anyone else.”

She reached for the pastry bag he’d placed down on the sunbed between them and ripped it open.

“I know that now.” She passed him the coffee, and then teased a warm pastry apart in her fingers. “I couldn’t get on the plane back to England. I tried, I really did. I queued, but when it came to my turn, I couldn’t get on the damn plane.”

He sipped the scalding drink from the tiny hole in the lid, leaning sideways so as not to hold it over Billy’s head.

“You should have.”

“Should I?”

Dylan placed the cup down and accepted the chunk of pastry she held out.

“It would have been the sensible choice.”

“I don’t do sensible. I do full throttle, even though it might break my neck,” she said. “Or my heart.”

“I never wanted to break your heart, English.”

“You put it back together again last night.”

“I broke my own heart too, if it’s any consolation.”

They sat in silence then, man, woman and child.

She screwed up the empty pastry bag, set the coffee cup down in the sand, and sank back against the sun lounger. “Lie with me for a while?”

Dylan swallowed hard. He wanted to lie there with Kara so much that he feared his banging heart might wake Billy. He lay back slowly beside her and offered her the crook of his shoulder. She met his eyes for an uncertain second and then accepted, settling herself against the warmth of his body.

He was so warm. So warm, and vital, and so intrinsically, basically right that she sighed heavily. His arms felt like her home.

“Dylan…” she said.

He stroked her hair. “Ssh. Just for one minute. Don’t say anything.”

And so she didn’t. She closed her eyes and let him stroke her hair, her arm flung across his midriff beneath Billy’s tiny toes.

Little by little she tilted her face, and little by little he dipped his, until his mouth was a breath away from her own.

He opened his eyes, and in hers he found absolution.

She opened her eyes, and in his she found devotion.

“How are we gonna play this thing, English?” he said, cupping her face with his palm.

“One day at a time,” she whispered. “Kiss me?”

His gaze fell to her lips, and then back up to her eyes. No kiss had ever felt so important.

Her gentle sigh of longing filled his head when he lowered his mouth over hers. “Kara,” he whispered, her name his prayer as he closed his eyes and let his feelings take over. Her mouth opened and invited him in, let his tongue slide over hers, into her heart, her everything. He buried his hand in her hair and held her head to his. “I love you so very much,” he breathed, and then he kissed her again, aching all over with how much she meant to him.

She hadn’t said why she was here, or if she intended to stay, but he needed to say it anyway, and he needed her to hear it.

“I love you too,” she said, her hand gentle over the warm skin at the nape of his neck when he lifted his head. “Can I stay?”

Dylan eased back, his fingers still on her jaw. Such a casually phrased question, but he could feel her trembling.

“Are you sure you want to?”

Kara looked at him, clear eyed and very, very clear in her mind.

“I’ll never love anyone else the way I love you. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“It’s not just me, Kara,” he said, glancing down at the top of Billy’s head. “We’re kind of a package deal.”

“Hey, the cute baby clinched it,” she smiled, stroking the baby's foot. “You should thank him someday.”

“Every day for the rest of my life.”

“I’m going to stick around to make sure you do, Sailor.”

Dylan kissed her hair as she settled her head on his shoulder and looked out towards the sea, towards the Love Tug nestled at the far end of the rocks.

“I knew the moment I saw that crazy-ass boat that I was in trouble,” she said.

“But you didn’t turn around and walk away.”

“Trouble is my middle name.”

“Then we match.” Kara felt his soft laugh against her hair.

“I don’t know the first thing about babies. Just so you know," she said, and touched Billy’s pink cheek.

“Me neither, but I’m learning,” Dylan said. He reached down and un-clipped the baby carrier carefully, then manoeuvred the still sleeping Billy down onto the cushion of the shaded lounger. Unencumbered now, he stood, and Kara stood with him.

“Come here, English,” he said gently, pulling her near. She wrapped her arms around him and closed her eyes, breathing his scent in deep as his restless hands moved over her back, in her hair, over the flare of her hips.

“You fit me, Kara,” he said. “You know every fucked up part of me, and you still see someone you can love.”

She wrapped him closer. So much man. So much more than he gave himself credit for. “You fit me, Sailor.” She tipped her head back and offered him her mouth, an offer he accepted and then some, kissing her breath away. They lingered at the water’s edge, eyes closed, her face in his hands as his tongue moved against hers. Love and lust sparkled low in her stomach, as warm and welcome as a summer’s day.

“You feel that?” he said, his voice raw with emotion.

“I feel it.” She didn’t have the words to tell him how much.

“Say you’ll never go,” he said, even though he’d promised himself he wouldn’t ask it of her.

“Tell me you want me to stay forever,” she murmured, knowing he was the love of her lifetime.

“Always, English,” he said. “Always.”

Ibiza, two years later.

 
“Not much further now,” Kara laughed, tugging Dylan along the beach. He almost stumbled on a rock in the sand and reached up to push off the blindfold Kara had insisted he wear for the duration of the car journey from the villa. She’d been elated and giddy all day, a sure indication that she was up to no good.

“No, don’t,” she said, catching his arm and smacking it away. “You’ll spoil the surprise.”

“I’ve told you what I want for my birthday,” he grumbled.

“And you’ll get me.” She stroked her hand down his ass, enjoying him being at her mercy. “Later. After your surprise.”

She tugged him towards the rocks at the end of the beach and then stopped and slid her arms around him.

“This surprise just got a whole lot more interesting,” he murmured, running his hands down her spine appreciatively through her clinging dress. He kissed her, hot and open mouthed, his hands moving over her body, and for a little while all thoughts of the surprise waiting at the end of the rocks flew out of her head.

“This isn’t the first time you’ve blindfolded me on my birthday,” he murmured, and she laughed softly into his kiss, remembering.

“I know.” She slid her hands beneath his T-shirt. “You trusted me then.”

“I trust you now. Untie the blindfold, English,” he said, his hand cupping her cheek. “I want to look at you.”

She kissed him once more, long and lingering as she slowly untied the blindfold, letting her hands play in his hair as she took her time over loosening the fastening. Finally he blinked around, freed, letting his eyes adjust to the starlit night.

Recognition flitted across his face as he took in his surroundings. “Vadella,” he said simply, with a smile.

Kara nodded and took his hand. He narrowed his eyes as she smiled serenely and led him along the rocky path at the edge of the beach. He hadn’t walked the path in a good while, not since it became apparent very soon after Billy’s arrival that babies and boats didn’t mix. Not boats like the one he’d called home, in any case. The pretty hillside villa he shared now with Kara and his toddler son afforded them more space and convenience and presented many fewer hazards for a wobbly new walker and inquisitive explorer, though it had to be said, it lacked the kitsch charm of Dylan’s previous abode. Very occasionally, he missed the old boat’s quirks.

They passed by the newer boats moored there now, including several impressive looking cruisers and a couple of fishing boats, and Kara kept going all the way along to the very end of the rocks. So they were going back.

Back to the Love Tug
.

Dylan started to laugh softly. He could see it lit up ahead now, the multi-coloured fairy lights around the railings of the deck winking bright against the dark skies, low music floating out from the speakers.

“Have dinner with me?” Kara said, and the look in her eyes promised a whole lot more besides.

“You know all the best places to eat,” he said. "Let me guess. Take-out paella?"

“Not exactly,” she said with a small, uncharacteristically nervous smile. She handed him a set of keys he recognised instantly.

"It's yours," she said, watching his face as her words sank in.

"You bought the boat?"

His incredulous grin wiped the anxiety from her face.

"Every sailor needs a boat," she said, leaning in to kiss him. "Or a weekend shag palace…"

"Shag palace?" he said, mimicking her accent, smiling against her lips. "So English, as always."
 

 
Kara loved the sight of him stepping aboard the old boat again. So many good memories were wrapped up in one small, crazy old vessel. She accepted the hand he held out and stepped aboard, the heels of her cowboy boots loud against the deck. 

Dylan pulled her against him, running his fingertip along the neckline of the tube dress he loved her in.

“Did you wear this for me?” he said.

“It
is
your birthday.” She leaned in close and kissed the warm skin beside his ear. “And I’m not wearing anything underneath it.”

“You know I’m going to check that later, right?”

“I’m counting on it, Sailor.” She started up the steps to the roof deck, then glanced back over her shoulder at him. “You can look up my skirt. Birthday treat.”

Dylan's eyes were so firmly fixed on Kara's backside that it took him a few seconds to realise that they wouldn't be dining alone. Lucien and Sophie sat alongside each other on the familiar low deck chairs, conspirators in Kara's birthday plan. Sophie jumped up as soon as Dylan appeared.

"Happy birthday!" she said, laughing as she threw her arms around him. He hugged her hard, blown away by their surprise arrival on the island. He kissed her cheek when she stepped back.

"You guys have been plotting,” Dylan smiled wide and easy. “When did you get here?" 

"A few hours ago.” Sophie grinned, her eyes dancing with the thrill of the successful ambush. "We dropped Esther and the kids off at yours as soon as you guys went out."

Lucien unfurled himself from the chair as Kara bent to kiss his cheek then pulled Sophie into an expansive hug and led her away below deck.

Lucien advanced towards Dylan.

"Happy Birthday, bud,” he said, pressing a bottle of Dylan's favourite bourbon into his hands.
 

Dylan laughed, still a little shell-shocked by the unexpected birthday gathering.

"It's so good to see you, man," he said, pulling Lucien into a bear hug even though he knew his friend wasn't the most tactile of men. "Drink?" he asked, reaching out of habit into a low cupboard to the side of the deck where barware had always been stored in his time. He found a couple of glass tumblers and uncapped the bottle, splashing amber liquid into them.

They stood alongside each other, elbows on the railings and a generous measure of bourbon in their glasses.

"How long are you guys staying?"

"A week or so," Lucien said. "If you can stand it. Oskar’s cutting teeth. We make bad house guests. Trust me, you'll be ready for us to leave."

Dylan grimaced. "Teething, man. Gruesome. Billy screamed for weeks."

They contemplated the sea in silence for a few seconds, both men ruminating on how much had changed since they met.
 

Lucien and Sophie's family had expanded with the arrival of their son, Oskar, making Tilly a proud and mostly delighted big sister and Lucien an even prouder and more delighted father.

Knight Inc. continued to go from strength to strength, with Lucien on the final countdown to the opening of his eleventh club. The Knight family skipped happily around the globe in his private jet, a tightly knit clan rarely separated for more than a few days.

Kara and Dylan had taken a far more Bohemian approach, and it worked just fine for their relationship. Living together, absorbing Billy into their routine, his long afternoon siestas affording them the opportunity to make the most of each other’s company in all the ways they liked best. Ibiza suited them, and they suited Ibiza, having entrenched themselves firmly amongst the eclectic group of native and part-time residents they now counted as friends.

The Ibizan club had met and then exceeded even Lucien’s expectations under Dylan's expert stewardship, so much so that the venture had expanded this season to launch a luxury weekend party boat, currently the hottest ticket in town in every sense of the word. Kara had flexed her business muscles that summer too, opening a standalone boutique on the neighbouring island of Mallorca.

Kara’s and Sophie’s friendship was stronger and brighter than ever, and their two families grew ever closer, outside of work. They met up as often as their busy schedules would allow; snatched weekends in London, the occasional week soaking up the sun in Ibiza, idyllic Christmastimes in Norway.

It was a good life.

Lucien reached into the battered leather jacket he’d hooked over a chairback, then produced two cigars from the inside pocket. He shrugged, then smiled at Dylan’s surprised look. “It’s your birthday,” he said by way of explanation, coming back to lean beside his friend with a lighter in his hand.

“I haven’t had one of these in years.” Dylan placed the cigar between his lips, then leaned towards the flame that Lucien sparked. Lucien lit his own cigar and blew out a slow stream of smoke.

“My brother was the cigar smoker of the family,” Dylan said, remembering late nights and good times.

Lucien knew from the past tense that Dylan was referring to Billy. He took a deep slug of bourbon, the rich shot of alcohol combining with the taste of the cigar in his mouth. “I never had a brother.”

Dylan huffed lightly. “Yeah, well. Take it from me. It’s not all good news.”

Lucien nodded. From what he’d seen of Dylan’s surviving brother, there wasn’t anything to envy.

In the moments of companionable silence that followed, nostalgic memories of Billy merged with the closeness Dylan felt to the man beside him now.

“I know this kind of talk makes you freak out, but I'm gonna say it anyway,” Dylan said, laughing softly. “I fuckin’ love you, man.”

“Jesus Christ,” Lucien muttered, re-lighting his cigar and holding the flame out to Dylan.

 
It wasn’t his style to make such expansive comments, but he knew what Dylan meant all the same. Theirs was a friendship that he’d come to value very much in the years since their first encounter. Back then, he’d entrusted Dylan with the responsibility of running his club. These days, their bond ran so much deeper; as close as brothers, the best of friends.

He met Dylan’s eye in a moment of silent acknowledgement, then shuddered despite the warmth of the evening. “And now I feel like we just had sex.” He knocked his bourbon back in one huge slug, and Dylan turned away to hide his smile.
 

.It was the best of evenings.

A million stars lit the sky above them like an incandescent celestial map. Sophie rested her head back on Lucien’s arm and looked up as one streaked bright and brilliant across the skies over their heads.

“Shooting star,” she said. “Make a wish.”

“Can it involve fucking?” Lucien wasn't at all bothered by the fact that they weren’t alone. Dylan and Kara knew exactly how it was between them.

Sophie laughed, equally unabashed. “You’re getting predictable.”

Lucien shook his head. “I don’t need to make a wish, Princess,” he said, his hand warm on the back of her hair. He glanced around the table. At Dylan and Kara, wrapped up in each other, and then back at Sophie, caught up in him. He loved them all. “It doesn’t get better than this.”