CORAL - Forever (A Romance Trilogy, Book 3) (7 page)

“What?” I question, he’s lost his grin and his broody look
is back.

“You’ve lost a lot of weight,” he says. I roll my eyes at
him.
What does he expect
?

“That’s because I was comatose for ten days, what’s your
excuse?” I question, because he’s lost weight too.

“My fiancé nearly died,” he answers morosely. “Kind of lost
my appetite,” he adds.

I swallow hard and gaze at him –
Jeez, he really has lost
weight his face looks really thin
.

“Ready?” he asks, I nod and look up at the house.

I get an instant flashback, seeing Tristan tied up and
bleeding, I clench my hands into fists, close my eyes and try to push the
memory away –
Focus Coral!

I take a deep breath and pull on my memory of Tristan making
love to me in front of the fire, the night he proposed, I’m instantly flooded
with a warm homely feeling –
Good, better, keep thinking like that!
But
as I look up at the house again I have to admit, it does feel strange. Last
time I was here – I shut the door on that line of thinking.

“Hey, ok?” Tristan asks as we stand on the doorstep. I try
to smile. “I need to know your ok about living here Coral, after what happened’
– “Stop,” I say placing my finger against his lips. “I love this house, it’s
beautiful. This is where I want to be Tristan, it already feels like this is
our
home, I don't want to move,” I tell him.

“You don't?” he questions, I shake my head at him. “Ok, we
stay,” he says.

Tristan nods to Stuart, who has been patiently waiting for
us, and opens the front door.

“Thanks Stu,” Tristan says and walks into the entrance
hallway.

I expect to hear the voices of my family and friends shouting
surprise, as per Rob’s info, but the house is empty, there’s not a soul in
site? Tristan walks us into the kitchen and sits me down on the breakfast bar. I
turn and see Stuart close the door, then walk over to us with my bag.

“Sir, shall I take this up for you?”

“No, that’s fine Stuart, thanks,” Tristan answers.

Stuart nods to Tristan, and disappears up the stairs, I
guess he’s gone to his room
–
Better remember not to walk around the
house naked!

I look around the huge expanse again, where is everybody? –
Was
Rob winding me up?

“What?” Tristan chuckles. “You look disappointed,” he adds.

“Do I?” I breathe, trying not to give it away that I know.

“Thirsty?” Tristan asks.

“Yeah...” I say.

“Coffee, orange juice, water. What would you like?” he asks.

“Wine would be nice,” I answer dryly.

Tristan chuckles at me. “It’s ten in the morning Coral?”

“So...?” I whine feeling antsy.

Tristan shakes his head at me. “No, no way. No alcohol until
you’re off your painkillers,” he tells me.

“Fine,” I mumble.

I look around the kitchen and wrap my arms around myself,
this feels so strange, I get another flashback of running round the house
trying to find Tristan – I take a deep breath and slowly blow it out.

Tristan walks over to me with two Champagne flutes, a bottle
of bubbly and some orange juice. “I thought you said’ – “It’s alcohol free,” he
beams interrupting me.

“Oh...” I watch him pop the cork with ease and pour a little
into each glass, then he tops them both up with a little orange juice.

He hands one to me and clicks his glass against mine. “Welcome
home baby,” he leans down and gently presses his lips against mine. Desire
explodes within me – I grip his hair at the nape with my free hand and kiss
him, hard.

“Whoa, whoa!” He puts his glass down and takes a step back,
holding his hands up in the air. I instantly feel rejected and I hate feeling
like that.

“How long are you going to keep denying me?” I hiss.

“Not until your better,” he snaps, clenching his jaw. But my
kiss must have affected him; he’s breathing heavier than he was a moment ago
and his eyes have dilated.

“Tristan, if we just take it easy’ – “No!” he snaps.

I feel tearful and angry again, shaking my head at him I
glug the drink back in one go, ease myself off the breakfast bar and hobble
towards the stairs.

“Baby don't’ – “Don't what?” I snap stopping by the stairs.

Tristan clenches his jaw, walks over to me and grasps my
face between his hands. His eyes are wide and dilated; his look intense.
Oh!
I swallow hard.

“You think I don't want to, well you’re wrong. I want you
more now than I ever have,” he closes his eyes and leans his forehead against
mine. “Can’t you see that?” he asks.

“No,” I sniff.

“Baby, you’re in no state to be doing this, what if I
unintentionally hurt you?” he says.

“I don't care, I’ll take the pain. I just want to feel you,
be with you, and you’re making me feel like a criminal. If I get it out of my
system, I’m more likely to relax....” I swallow hard at the lump that’s formed,
and try to continue. “Tristan the last time I saw you, you asked me to leave,
you ended it. Then I find you half dead...tied up...bleeding...” I break off
unable to continue.

“I know...” he sighs. “There hasn’t been a single day that
has passed without me thinking about that, I was stupid and angry and...” He
breaks off and looks down at me with a painful, sorrowful look. “If I’d have
lost you,” he trembles.

“Why did you do that?” I whisper.

“Do what?” He questions, his brows pulling together.

“Tell me to go after we argued about Susannah?” I whisper.

“I will tell you,” he says. “I give you my word I will, but
not now. Can I show you my surprise first?” He questions.

“Surprise?” I question frowning up at him.

“Yes.” He smiles, his eyes crinkling sweetly at the corners,
his dimples deepening. I really want answers, but I guess we have loads of
time.

“Ok,” I squeak, he leans down and kisses me softly on the
lips.

“Don't move,” he says.

I watch Tristan walk over to his glass, drink it down in one
go, then he makes his way back over to me –
Boy he’s sexy!
Even the way
he walks, he just does things to me.

“You’re so sexy baby,” I whisper as he reaches me. He smiles
his sweet shy smile, his cheeks flushing slightly – A plan suddenly forms. “Tristan,
I need a shower, will you wash my hair? I think it will hurt too much if I
try?” I say.

Tristan cocks his head to the side. “Anything for you,” he
says, running his thumb across my bottom lip – It sends shivers to all the
right places.
Maybe my plan will work?

“But not now baby,” he adds lifting me up into his arms.
Damn
it!

“Where are we going?” I ask.

“You’ll see,” he says and starts heading up the stairs.

My heart starts slamming against my chest, all I can see and
remember are my own footsteps running up towards our room...trying to find him
–
Fuck!

“Tristan, please stop,” I squeak in panic.

Tristan stops midway on the stairs to our room. “What is
it?” he asks.

“J-just flashbacks,” I stutter.

I take one look up the stairs to the bedroom door, and
swallow hard. Last time I was here...Susannah was behind that door...I start to
shake all over –
What is this?

“Tristan, I'm scared,” I croak, gripping him more tightly.

“Hey.” He tilts me slightly, so I have to look up at him.
“You have nothing to be afraid of, I will never, ever let anything like that
happen again,” he tells me firmly. “Baby, it’s going to take some time for us
both to get over this, I know that, but I’ll be right here, I'm not going
anywhere,” he softly says.

But the fear that rippled through me when I thought I might
lose him pumps through my veins again. “I thought she’d k-killed you,” I choke
out, gripping his neck. “When I walked in the room...and you were so still....”
I cut off and softly cry into his neck.

“I know baby,” he says, rocking me gently. “But I really
want to show you something,” he says, adjusting me in his arms.

“I thought I was light?” I tease, sniffing loudly.

Tristan chuckles at me. “You are,” he says, kissing my cheek
with a soft, chaste kiss.”Far too slender,” he adds.

I look up at the bedroom door again. “Ok, let’s get this
over with,” I say gritting my teeth.

“You’re so brave,” he whispers, kissing my temple.

Then slowly, steadily, he takes the couple of steps needed,
and opens the bedroom door.
Oh my god!

I
GASP ALOUD AT WHAT LIES BEFORE ME
. The bedroom, our bedroom, has
been re-designed. I hardly recognise it! All memories of Susannah, and what
happened that night immediately disappear. I look across at Tristan, he smiles
his boyish shy smile at me.

“When did you?...How did you...?” I stop as I'm choking on
my own words.

“Do you like it?” he softly asks.

I look around the room again, everything has changed, the
furniture, the bed, the colours on the wall – I feel like I’ve just walked into
my studio, it’s so bright and airy. Gone is the dark wood we’d chosen, there’s
now white cracked wooden furniture. The chocolate, mocha and cream colour
scheme is now bright white and sky-blue, including the new bed covers.

Our boat paintings from Hastings are up on the walls with
several new items that have been artfully placed around the room, a small white
sailing boat, a lighthouse, and a large wooden sailing wheel that’s a clock –
it looks really great.

There are several bouquets of flowers, making the room smell
divine, and lots of balloons saying welcome home, and get well soon, and then I
notice several grey fluffy teddy bears from the ‘Me To You’ range – which I
love.

Tristan walks us over to the bed and sits us down.

Right in the middle of the bed is the biggest teddy of all.
It’s looking very sorry for itself, but that’s probably because it has a pink
bandage wrapped around its head and written on the little pink cardigan are the
words ‘
I Love You, Get Well Soon’

Keeping me tight in his arms, Tristan leans across the bed,
picks up the teddy and hands it to me. I hug it to me for a moment then gaze
around the room in awe.

“Do you like it?” Tristan asks again.

“The teddy?” I question hugging it to me again; it’s so
soft.

Tristan smiles. “Yes...well that and everything else,” he
adds gesturing around the room.

“I love it,” I say. “From you?” I ask turning the teddy
towards him. Tristan nods his shy smile at me. “This is beautiful Tristan, the
flowers, the balloons...all of it. It’s a beautiful welcome home.” I lean forward
and kiss him, trying not to get too passionate about it, but I can't help
myself, we haven’t for what feels like so long and I want him.

“Hey,” Tristan says softly, pulling his lips away from mine.
“Not until you’re better baby,” he adds, running a cool soft finger down my
cheek. “Please...be good.”

“Ok.” I relent, and look around the room again. “Who did all
this?” I ask in wonder.

“I did, well, I knew what I wanted. Rob did the re-design, I
did the flowers, banners, teddy bears and balloons,” he says, gazing down at me
with his warm, sweet, soulful eyes.

“That’s so sweet baby,” I say tears pricking my eyes. “But I
have to ask why?” I add. Tristan lifts me from his lap, stands and picks up the
box of tissues.

“Why?” he questions, I nod back at him. “Because I didn’t
want it to look the same as before,” he says walking over to me and sitting
down on the edge of the bed, he hands me the box of tissues. “I didn’t want the
reminder and I figured you didn’t either. What do you really think?” he asks
gazing down at me.

“I....I really, really like it,” I squeak, dabbing my eyes
with tissues –
God damn tears!

“Good, I’m glad,” he says standing to his feet. “Now, let’s
get you cleaned up,” he adds holding his hand out to me.

“Ok,” I squeak. I place my hand in his and slowly stand to
my feet.

How I’m supposed to have sex with him considering I can
hardly walk, I don't know? But I’m damn well going to give it a good try. We
slowly make our way into the bathroom. Tristan closes the door and turns to me
with wide hungry eyes, he wants to too, I can see it –
Good, this might not
be so hard after all.

The room suddenly charges with electricity, I can feel the
pull from him, but my heart sinks when he starts to shake his head at me. “It’s
not going to happen so you may as well give it up,” he says.
Damn it!

I pout back at him, turn around and un-zip my hoody. In my
haste to get naked, I pull a little too harshly on the right arm, it sends
shooting pains across my shoulder blade and through my right lung –
Holy
fuck that hurt!

My knees hit the floor as I gasp aloud in pain.

“God damn it Coral!” Tristan is instantly at my side,
holding me to him. “What can I do?” he asks. I shake my head at him and wait
for the throbbing to ease; when it does, I look up at him feeling guilty.

“I think I need your help,” I whimper.

“Yes, you do. Now keep still,” he snaps.

“I will,” I tremble. There’s no way I want that to happen
again!

Without a word, he slowly undresses me. First my hoody,
followed by my vest. Then he kneels down and unties my trainers, and gently
pulls them off my feet, followed swiftly by my socks. Then he slowly peels my
sweats down my legs, using his shoulders for support, I lift my one leg, then
the other so Tristan can pull the sweats over my ankles; leaving all my clothes
on the floor.

“You should know,” he says, standing up straight. “I took
the liberty of telling the detective in charge of the case everything that you
told me. He has the P.I report, your keys and your photograph. He’ll be coming
to see you tomorrow, I told him you were being discharged then – I figured you
wouldn’t want to see him today,” he adds.

“Ok,” I whisper. I’m in too much pain to argue about this.

Then I get a flashback. “Tristan, the CCTV.” I say
remembering having it installed; it should all be on camera what Susannah did.

“CCTV?” He questions, his eyes darkening. I nod, feeling
guilty. This is something else he doesn’t know about, I look down at the tiled
floor.

“I had it installed in the studio...in-case she entered my
property again, there’s one in the bedroom and one downstairs. When Susannah broke
in...” I take a breath. “It’ll be recorded on my laptop.” I guiltily look up at
him.

Tristan takes in a deep breath and closes his eyes –
Shit!
–
I think he’s really, really mad.

“Maybe the detective should have it?” I add.

“Yes, he should.” He bites – I don't think he’s very happy
with me.

“I’m sorry Tristan,” I whimper, staring down at the floor.

He lifts my chin to look at him. “I can’t believe...” He
stops for a moment, closes his eyes and takes a deep breath –
Yep, he’s
definitely angry with me.
When he opens his eyes and looks down at me, I
can see his anger has dissipated, fractionally, his eyes a lighter brown.

“He should know. I’ll call him when we’ve finished,” he adds.

“Is my studio ok?” I ask.

“Coral, right now’ – “Tristan, I need to know my stuff isn’t
being pilfered by the morons living in Brighton! Has it been locked up?”
Tristan presses his forefinger against my lips to silence me.

“I don't want you worrying about anything like that,” he
says.

“Well I am,” I muffle.

“Well don't, I have sorted it,” he says. I go to ask him
why, to question him, but he closes his eyes again. He looks so tired...exhausted;
which is exactly how I feel.

“Ok, no worrying,” I say as another sharp pain shoots
through me. I hiss and grab hold of his hand; he lets me squeeze him until the
pain dies down.

“Ok?” He asks.

“Yeah...” I breathe.

“Stay there.” He warns and I watch him quickly strip out of
his t-shirt, jeans, underwear, socks and trainers.
Tristan what happened to
you?

My mouth unintentionally pops open, I start to shake my
head. Standing before me in all his naked glory, I suddenly see how much weight
he’s really lost – I can see his ribs!

“Jesus Tristan,” I whisper in shock. Tears pool in my eyes.
I take the couple of steps needed and gently run my fingers across his torso.

“What?” He snaps.
Oh Tristan!

I swallow hard. “You...I can see your ribs?” I croak.
“Didn’t you eat –
at all
?” I question.

He solemnly shakes his head at me. “No. I didn’t have any
appetite, but I’m sure we’ll both put it back on,” he says, his eyes hooded
again.

“We?” I question. Tristan gently turns me around so I’m
facing the huge mirror above the sinks –
Holy crap! –
I didn’t notice in
the hospital, but my face is sunken, my eyes look hollow, and they have dark
rings underneath them; and I look fucking skinny – too skinny! Even my boobs
look smaller!

“See baby, not just me.” He says running his hand across collar
bone, down to my ribs, then sliding over my pelvic bones that are jutting out –
Crap! I look anorexic!

My bottom lip starts to tremble as I stare at our
reflections. Catching my eye, Tristan turns me around, and softly enfolds me in
his arms. He’s being so careful, so tender with me; it makes my love for him
grow tenfold.

“Don't cry baby, you’re safe,” he soothes.

“I know, I just hate seeing us like this,” I croak.

“We’ll get better,” he says gently rocking me. “Or look at
it this way, we can eat as much junk food as we want over the next week,” he
chuckles once. I feel it vibrate through me, I really love his laugh.

“True,” I chuckle back, still sniffling.

“Come on baby, let’s get showered so we can get some food
inside you,” he says.

“And you,” I sniff.

“Yes and me,” he says bending down to kiss me sweetly. “Turn
around baby, we can't get this wet,” he softly says.

“Ok.” I turn my back to Tristan’s front. He slowly peels the
gauze off that’s tightly taped across my shoulder, protecting the stitches. It
feels good to get some fresh air on it; it’s been itching so badly. His eyes
close for a fraction of a second as he stares down at my shoulder.

“You are one very lucky woman,” he whispers darkly, trailing
his finger lightly over the wound. “No nerve damage, a small splinter of bone
which they managed to remove, she mainly hit muscle, which is why you’re so
sore...” He closes his eyes and takes in a deep ragged breath, then slowly
opens them. “You’re going to need physiotherapy,” he adds, leaning down to
place a soft tender kiss, right where she shot me.

“I know, Dr Green told me,” I whisper, staring up at his
reflection, trying to get him to make eye contact with me, but he’s mesmerised.
“Tristan,” I whisper. “I'm ok.”

“Does it hurt?” He asks, gently running his hand across my
shoulder, kissing me there again.

“Not particularly, I just feel bruised, like I’ve been in a
fight.” I say.

He sighs heavily and finally looks up at me, then holds out
his hand for me to take it. As I place my hand in his and slowly turn around, I
catch my reflection and see my shoulder.

There’s a small, round mark with several stitches across it,
it’s red, raised and looks very sore, and there are several blue bruises
surrounding it, and it’s in that moment I realise I’m going to be scarred,
forever –
Great!

Tristan slowly leads me over to the shower, opening the door
and stepping inside he turns it on, then takes my hand and helps me inside;
closing the door behind us. Checking the temperature, he takes my hand and
places it under the water.

“How’s that feel?” He questions.

“Wonderful,” I whisper.

Tristan takes hold of each of my hands and wraps them around
his waist. Then wrapping his arms around me, he lifts me up, takes a step to
the side and places us under the cascade of water. The moment my head is
underneath it; I sigh with relief – What is it about showers that makes you
miss them so much when you can't have one?

“Nice?” Tristan asks.

“Yeah...really nice,” I whisper.

“Is it stinging?” he asks.

“What?”

“Your scar?”

“No Tristan, it’s not,” I say, even though it is, but I need
this, I need to feel clean.

“Jesus!” He hisses, his arms enfolding me closer to him. I
rest my head under the crook of his neck, and place my cheek against his firm
chest. I have missed this, missed us, missed the feel of his arms around me,
and the smell of his skin. Then all of a sudden and to my complete horror,
Tristan starts to cry, strange, hoarse sounding manly sobs
. Holy Crap, he’s
really crying!

I can tell he’s trying to fight it; to stop...It breaks my
heart all over again.
My baby no!

“Tristan!” I gasp.

“Don't move,” he croaks. “Please baby, just stay here,” he
says his voice low and hoarse as his body racks with more strange, manly cries.

“No Tristan,” I beg. “Don't cry for me. I can't stand it,
please...” I beg.

“Please baby...just stay here,” he chokes out. I relent and squeeze
him tighter, even though it’s making my shoulder throb with pain.

I don't know how long we stay like that, but I hold him tight
and let him cry it out. I have to try and look at it from his perspective, how
I would feel if it was Tristan coming home after surviving being shot, I know I
would cry in relief too – But it hurts, hurts so badly to hear him in pain,
suffering, I want to take it away for him...

“I'm sorry,” he finally chokes out.

I look up at him, his eyes are red and bloodshot, but he
seems to have gotten it out of his system. He looks relieved –almost. Then he
takes my face in his hands, leans down and tenderly kisses me. “Why Coral? Why
did you do that? You should have let her shoot
me
.” He says, his eyes
searching mine for an explanation.

“Oh Tristan...I love you...so much. I'm so sorry, sorry for
putting us through this, but I couldn’t just stand by and watch her hurt you,
not you...you’re too much of a good man to have anything like that happen to
you...and I can't lose you, not now, not ever...if Susannah had shot you, you
might not have survived...I don't think you realise that for me that would have
been it, game over...there’s no point being alive if you’re not here with me’
–“Stop,” he says, his voice hoarse, his eyes are dark and blazing with fury. “Don't
you ever say anything like that again,” he growls.