At that, Sibyl pulled out of her freeze, yanked the bags out of her mother’s hands and stomped to the car.
“She’s too much!” she declared while Colin slid into the driver’s seat.
“Are you unhappy about spending the night with me at Lacybourne?” Colin asked, turning toward.
“No,” she snapped grumpily, staring straight ahead.
“Then what’s the problem?”
“My mother told you to give me a good tumble!” she cried then ended on a mumble, “my goddess, it’s embarrassing.”
“Why?”
She twisted to look at him. “You don’t think it’s embarrassing?”
“No,” he replied frankly.
“Really?” she asked, her voice filled with disbelief.
“Really.”
She watched him in the fading light of the evening and then, slowly pulling in both of her lips (an endearing habit of hers he was getting used to), she considered something important to which Colin wasn’t privy. He didn’t push but allowed her to sort it through.
Finally, she smiled, leaned forward and gave him a soft kiss.
Then she whispered, “Thank you.”
“For what?” he asked, lifting his hand to graze her cheek with the tips of his fingers then sliding it through her soft, lustrous hair and around her nape to keep her close.
“For accepting my crazy family. I’ll warn you though, they’re holding back. They’re actually a lot weirder than this.”
He found that hard to believe but didn’t voice this comment and ended the conversation with a swift, hard kiss that held a promise of what was to come.
Upon arrival at Lacybourne, Sibyl wasted no time in presenting her reward for his acceptance of her bizarre family. Silently, she wandered away from him deep into the house as he dropped her bags at the foot of the stairs in the Great Hall.
He followed her and found her in the dining room.
He stood in the doorway watching her as she moved a chair away from the table and then pressed her palms on the top, putting her weight into it.
With her back to him, she enquired with mock-innocence, “How sturdy do you think this table is?”
Reading her meaning, feeling an instant arousal tightening in his groin, in two great strides he closed the distance between them, whirled her around and crushed her to him. She tilted her head up to his, her mouth twitching slyly. Sliding his hands down her bottom and thighs, he lifted her and set her ass on the table.
“Let’s find out, shall we?” he murmured against her mouth.
And they found, after rigorous experimentation, the table was very sturdy.
Much later, lying in his huge bed, Colin was on his back struggling between feeling sated, exhausted and aroused. Sibyl, pressed against his side, was absently drawing soft patterns on his stomach with the tips of her fingers.
“Sibyl?”
She nodded her head against his chest but didn’t speak.
“I need to be at the train station tomorrow at six-thirty.”
“Okay,” she mumbled against his chest but her hand didn’t stop.
“And it’s relatively important that I have my faculties about me when I arrive in London.”
It was more than relatively important, two of his meetings concerned deals that involved millions of pounds.
“Mm,” she carried on with her hand distractedly.
He gently took her hand in his and shifted it lower, under the sheet, showing her the unconcealed evidence of what she was doing to him. He felt her cheek move on his chest as she smiled.
He ignored it.
“So, perhaps you’ll tell me what’s on your mind,” he suggested.
She lifted up on her elbow and pulled her hand from his, rested it on his chest and looked him in the eyes. Hers were a thoughtful hazel.
“Colin?”
“Hmm?”
“I just wanted you to know that I…” She hesitated and he watched as she struggled with some unknown. When she found it, she finished, “Like you.”
He stared at her in incredulity for a moment and then roared with laughter. Shifting her on her back, he covered her body with his.
“You like me?” he teased affectionately.
“Yes.” She now looked disgruntled as if she regretted her decision to impart this information on him.
“I’m pleased to hear it, darling,” he murmured after he bent his head and nuzzled her neck, laughter in his voice.
“No, I mean it.”
“I know you do.” He lifted his head and cupped her beautiful face in his hands.
“You’re a good man,” she told him fervently.
“Thank you.” He smiled at her, his body beginning to shake with mirth.
Something shifted in her face. “Colin, listen to me,” she said forcefully and very sombrely. “You are a good man.”
His amusement fled at the grave look in her eyes. She was telling him something important, her true intent still guarded but he recognised that this moment was profound for her.
“Thank you.” This time, he said it seriously.
“You’re welcome.” Her voice was solemn and intense and she was watching him with an entirely new look on her face, a look full of exquisite hope and he felt, for the very first time in his entire life, humbled. So humbled, if he had been standing, he would have fallen to his knees.
“Jesus, Sibyl,” he muttered as he recognised what was so profound about this moment and it being the fact that she’d let him into her heart.
And knowing that, he did the only thing he knew how to do. He made love to her, slowly. It was not about sex, about passion or about climax, it was about something else. It was sweet and wild and beautiful and very nearly, but not quite, everything a coupling should be and after it was done, Colin found it had moved him to his deeply, right into his soul.
And falling asleep, his front pressed full-length against the back of her body while his arm was wrapped around her waist, his hand cupping her breast, he did not notice the dim, golden, ethereal shimmer that slid out of the bedroom, waving, undulating and growing as it spread through the house, around the house and over the house. It continued, covering the grounds of Lacybourne Manor and up into the very atmosphere, going so far as to brighten the moon in the cloudless sky.
* * * * *
The next two days in London, he was luckily so busy he only spent half of his time thinking about Sibyl.
Between meetings, he’d called her on Monday, listening to her shouting into her mobile over the wind, “We’re at Tintagel, over the other side of the ruins. Oh Colin! I haven’t been here in so long; I forgot how beautiful it is. I wish you were here.”
Colin Morgan was not one to go tramping through ruins. Ever. But regardless of that, he found himself wishing it too.
Again, he called her on Tuesday to hear what could only be described as pandemonium behind her. “Colin, I’m sorry, babe, but I can’t talk now. I’m at the Day Centre and Mags suggested a game of strip bingo to the oldies and they’ve taken her up on it. I’m in Damage Control Mode,” she spoke urgently as Colin heard the words “unlucky for some’ called in the background. “Dear goddess, they’ve started!” she groaned into the phone. “I’ll call you later.”
He didn’t care that she couldn’t talk. Not only had she called him “babe’ in her engaging American accent, he needed her to control the proposed game of Pensioner Strip Bingo. He didn’t even want to think about it much less learn it actually occurred.
On Wednesday, after a meeting finished in his conference room, he headed to his office to return some calls when his London secretary stopped him and announced, “Miss Godwin is waiting in your office.”
He nodded curtly and lengthened his stride at news of this surprise. The Godwins had come on a shopping and museum expedition to London and they were supposed to meet Colin and his entire family at Claire’s house in Kew at six o’clock.
He opened the door to see her standing across the expanse
of his office, staring out the window at his unobstructed view of the Thames, Big Ben and the London Eye. She looked contemplative, standing behind his vast desk lost in thoughts he couldn’t fathom.
At her posture, he felt an unusual sense of dread creep through his bones.
He halted and shut the door and, when she heard it, her head turned to him with a jerk.
He rested his back against the door, crossed his arms on his chest and waited for her to speak. She didn’t move a muscle as she regarded him.
Finally, she broke the silence. “I left my family at the Tate,” she said in a voice so low he could barely hear her. “I came around, thinking you might have time to join us for lunch.”
Even though he was delighted at this news, he didn’t answer. Something in the way she was speaking and holding herself stopped him.
She broke his glance and looked back at the view.
After a moment, she spoke again.
“How much money do you have?” she asked the window despondently.
Without hesitation, he answered, “A lot.”
He saw her shudder and felt his heart squeeze painfully in response.
“I don’t know what to do with that information,” she admitted, her voice loaded with a wealth of meaning, none of it good for Colin.
“Does it matter?” He couldn’t believe he was in the position of having to defend his wealth. Women were normally seduced by it, coveted it, went out of their way to the point of demeaning themselves to get it.
Sibyl, however, was not like normal women.
And this made her all the more precious, and, he feared in that moment, perhaps the only thing in his life that had ever been out of his reach.
She turned to face him. “There are a lot of people who don’t have anything and you have so much.”
“I work hard for it,” he informed her honestly.
“I know,” she whispered, watching him with an expression he could not read as he was too far away to see the colour of her eyes.
“Why are you standing over there?” she asked absently, as if noticing for the first time he had not approached her.
“I think, right now, you need to come to me.”
Her body froze as she realised what he was asking and the importance of it. And he waited with a great deal of trepidation as she made up her mind.
“Halfway?” she suggested.
“No,” Colin stated implacably. He was who he was, he wasn’t going to change. She was who she was, he had no desire to change her. Perhaps protect her from her own good intentions, but not change her.
She nodded, turned back to the window and sighed. It was in that moment, he thought he’d lost and the very idea of it nearly drove him across the room.
But he stood his ground.
He needed her to accept him as he was.
“Do you have time for lunch?” she asked the window, still not moving toward him, her shoulders held straight and tense.
“No,” he answered honestly again.
“I didn’t think so,” she whispered.
It was then she turned and, without hesitation, she walked straight to him. She put her hands on either side of his waist when she arrived and tilted her head to his.
His relief was so great, his arms closed around her with stunning force and he pulled her to his body. Then he buried his face in her neck and smelled the same scent of lilies he’d smelled when he first admitted he wanted her that morning in Lacybourne.
“I suppose I should let you get back to work,” she murmured.
He lifted his head and she smiled, it was not a full-fledged Sibyl smile but it told him everything he needed to know.
It was then, after all their misunderstandings and distrust and across the great expanse of difference in their personalities and upbringing, that he found, finally, she was truly and completely his.
And Colin felt such an immense satisfaction that it overwhelmed him.
Hiding it from her in order not to frighten her, he brushed her mouth with a light kiss and she laid her hand on his cheek.
“At least I don’t feel so guilty about the fifty thousand anymore. Obviously, you can afford it.” Her voice was hesitantly teasing.
He was so relieved laughter erupted from him with the force of thunder.
Outside his office, his London secretary lifted and turned her head at the amazing, heretofore unknown, sound coming from her boss’s office. She had been told that should a Miss Godwin phone, she was to be put through immediately, no matter what. Apparently, after the many before her, this woman had found her way into Colin Morgan’s cold, unyielding heart.
His secretary wasn’t at all surprised, she was a beauty (of course) but she also had the sweetest smile.
* * * * *
The evening was spent in easy, but loud, camaraderie with the Godwins, Phoebe and Mike, Claire, her husband Jack and their two young children, Colin’s brother Tony and his wife, Ellen. Tony and Ellen found Sibyl and the Godwins just as enchanting as the rest of the family seemed to do.
After, Colin took Sibyl and her family back to Paddington Station to catch the last train to Yatton. Before allowing her through the ticket machines, he engaged her in a full-fledged, back-bending, passionate kiss that granted him a gleaming smile of unadulterated approval from her mother.
* * * * *
That had been Colin’s last two weeks with Sibyl.
Now, he pulled up outside her cottage and alighted from his car, seeing around him the flowers of full spring blooming everywhere. He opened the door and entered, responding to easy calls of greeting from Bertie and Scarlett who were both sitting in the living room. Scarlett had given him her full blessing somewhere along the way and her behaviour was no longer sardonic but almost cheery (or as cheery as Scarlett could get). Mallory charged him but skidded to a halt at the last moment, planted his bottom on the floor and licked Colin’s hand in welcome.
Sibyl walked in from the kitchen, holding Bran upside down in her arms, the cat’s feet dangling uselessly up in the air, his tail twitching angrily over her arm. The cat turned a baleful glare at Colin, promising later retribution at this grievous affront to his feline dignity.
Sibyl walked right up to Colin and gave him a brief kiss.
“Hi,” she breathed, her eyes warm with happiness and he completely lost himself in them.
“Hi,” he returned.
“You’re early and I’m running late.” With her attention on him, Sibyl lost hold on her cat and Bran took his opportunity at escape and jumped away. Then she leaned further into him and Colin’s left hand glided around her waist while his right hand cupped her jaw. “I’ve got to finish getting ready.”
He ran his thumb along her cheekbone, dipping it to slide along her lower lip, watching its progress with fascination the entire time.
Then he lifted his eyes from her mouth to her gaze and he whispered, “I’ll wait.”
Regardless of what she said, she didn’t move and they stood there, pressed against each other next to her father’s dining room table as Scarlett and Bertie watched with contented glances and Mallory settled to the floor with an exaggerated dog groan.
And in their sweet, close huddle, staring into each other’s eyes, no one in the room could know that the two lovers were about to enter a battle for their lives.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Talent Show
Marian Byrne paid her one pound and entered the Community Centre for the Talent Show.
The huge Hall was packed, music was playing and the hum of conversation was friendly and welcoming.
The minute Marian entered the Hall, she saw the dim, golden aura that glowed in the air and its presence so startled her, her eyes flew searchingly about the enormous room.
She found Colin easily; he was head and shoulders above most people in the room. Definitely head and shoulders above the elderly lady standing beside him, holding his hand in a grip so strong, it looked like she was attempting to leech the youth, powe
r and vitality out of the handsome man.
And when Marian saw him, she saw Colin’s golden aura was not as dim as the one that glittered in the air for it shown around him with nearly blinding clarity.
Marian smiled contentedly to herself and approached him as she thought with unsuppressed glee, Nearly there.
She was waylaid by the Godwins who were standing in line for tea.
“Mrs. Byrne! What a pleasure. I didn’t know you were coming tonight,” Marguerite Godwin greeted and kissed Marian’s cheek.
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Marian informed the delightful woman she found (not surprisingly) she liked very much and accepted greetings from Albert and Scarlett.
Then Marian noted, eyes sliding to the tall man, “I see Colin has an admirer.”
“Ah yes, she latched onto him the minute we arrived and hasn’t left his side,” Marguerite explained while Albert placed their tea orders, thoughtfully adding one for Marian.
“How are… things?” Marian asked even though she didn’t need to after her glance at Colin. She turned her attention to him again and saw him dip his head politely to listen to whatever the older lady was telling him.
He was relaxed and at ease, seeming in his element casually wearing his expensive suit and standing in the decrepit, old Hall. Colin Morgan seemed to own every space he occupied, she knew, but since Marian met him, he’d always been coiled as tight as a spring. Now he seemed content.
“Things are brilliant,” Mags enthused, putting Marian’s thoughts into words, adding. “Sibyl’s around somewhere but she’s crazy busy.”
It was then, as if on cue, Sibyl entered the Hall through sliding doors at the side. Wearing a wraparound, red dress that hugged her generous curves, a pair of open-toed, black high heels, her hair pulled back in a clip at the nape of her neck, she approached Colin.
Her aura was different, astoundingly so. It was golden but shot with white hot sparks some of which glittered nearly blue.
Marian felt the world come closer together.
Sibyl Godwin was in love.
Deeply, truly, completely in love.
She reached Colin and the intensity of her aura, although it seemed impossible, deepened. Marian thought it could almost singe a person if they came too close.