by Anne Oliver
* * *
Then they were on their way out of suburbia, headed towards the historic town of Richmond with its charming little cottages and her favourite old-fashioned English sweet shop.
Brie kept up a running commentary, pointing out local places of interest, telling him what she knew about the Blue Bandicoot winery they were going to be visiting, which they would reach before the town of Richmond itself.
Leo checked his speed as Breanna chatted on about the passing scenery and the area’s history. Her tour-guide conversation kept his mind from straying to impure thoughts about how they might turn off onto one of the narrow side roads, pull over, recline the seats and engage in creative and mutually satisfying sex.
The more he tried to concentrate on her words, the more vivid and creative his imagination grew and the stronger the ache in his groin became. His gaze slid sideways. She was looking out of the side window, giving him a view of her neck, pale and creamy and exposed as she talked. He forced his eyes straight ahead and tried to concentrate on the road.
‘Am I boring you?’ The sharp tone of her voice a moment later pierced his lusty thoughts.
‘What? No. Of course not. I’ve driven on this road before but I can say, in all honesty, it’s never been such an interesting journey.’
She snorted. ‘You don’t say.’
‘I do say.’
‘Nuh-uh.’ He heard her shift sideways in her seat to look at him. ‘What were you really thinking, Leo? While I was telling you about the history of the winery?’
‘If I told you, we’d have to take a detour and stop for a bit and I don’t have time today.’
The car filled with a wordless anticipation. ‘Forget the wine and cheese,’ she said slowly. ‘Brunch is overrated.’
He ignored her sensual tone that slid through his lower belly like a hot knife. ‘I’ve been up since six and I’m hungry. Enough of the tour-guide talk, tell me about you.’
‘How about what I’d like to do to you right now?’ She sucked in a breath between her teeth. ‘Or what I’d like you to do to me?’
‘We both know it’s a bad idea to pursue that particular conversation while I’m driving. Something less...vivid.’
‘Oka-ay. So when my father died six years ago, I discovered I have a half-brother. It took me three years to track Jett down in Paris, so I was technically an only child growing up. And now he’s just married my best friend, so—’
‘You, not your brother. Tell me about you.’
‘I love vanilla ice cream drenched in hot chocolate sauce.’
‘Do y—?’
‘I love the contrasts of hot and cold on my nipples. And I especially love it when someone—’
‘Stop. You’re deliberately provoking me.’ And he was responding exactly the way she wanted him to. Not going to happen, Breanna. He tightened his hands on the wheel.
‘Provoking you? Mmm, I hope so,’ she murmured, and he could almost feel the trail of her fingernail down his upper arm even though he knew her not-so-innocent hands lay innocently in her lap. ‘You could pull over...and...’
‘We could, but I’m hungry.’ A tingling sensation akin to pins and needles danced down his left arm and into his fingers.
Heat, desire and an altogether different kind of hunger was building within the car like a tropical thunderstorm. He switched off the heater, flicked open the upper air vent and tugged at the neck of his jumper. He didn’t find over-confident women a turn-on; why was his body responding so carnally to this one?
‘According to the GPS, the turn-off to the winery’s in one kilometre,’ she said. From the corner of his eye he saw her stretch her arms over her head. ‘Your last chance.’
‘Or what?’ Checking the rear-view mirror, he pulled to the side of the road, tyres skidding on the gravel as he brought the vehicle to a fast stop. He tossed his sunglasses on the dash, unclipped his seat belt and leaned over so that their faces were centimetres apart. He could still smell her shower scent, the subtle fragrance of her make-up. ‘Are you saying there won’t be another?’
She took off her sunglasses too, drew a circle on his thigh with a fingertip, looked at him from beneath sooty lashes. ‘I’m not saying that at all. I meant last chance before lunch—or brunch. Whatever. So kiss me.’ Her demand came out more like a needy plea.
Better, he thought, watching her pupils dilate, her glossy lips part slightly in expectation. ‘You’re not interested in exercising your feminist proclivities and kissing me first?’
She wiggled closer on her seat, fingers spreading warmth over his thigh, breasts tantalisingly close to his chest but not quite touching. Tempt and tease. ‘I liked how you kissed me yesterday and I want you to kiss me again.’
His gaze dropped to her mouth, yesterday’s spicy memory, today a sweet anticipation. ‘Then we can go and eat?’
‘If that’s all you want from me.’
To his surprise, her direct gaze changed, became almost vulnerable. As if deep down she feared rejection and had made a lifetime of proving she didn’t. ‘Not even close,’ he murmured, taking her face between his hands and laying his lips on hers.
But there was nothing hesitant about the way she kissed him back. Her kiss was as warm and full-flavoured as he remembered, her competent therapist’s fingers firm as she slid them around his neck and into his hair.
He didn’t know how long their lips remained locked together. Didn’t much care. He was still determining how far to take this here on the side of a reasonably busy road when she made the decision for him, pulling away with a breathless, ‘Whoa. We’re forgetting we’re in public here.’ Her cheeks were flushed; her eyes still held that hint of lost kitten.
‘I hadn’t forgotten.’ Surprised, he raised his brows. ‘That bothers you?’
‘No. Yes. We should get going.’
With a finger on her chin, he tilted her face to his before she could scrabble to put her sunglasses back on. Her tempt and tease routine was a façade. She was maintaining an emotional distance, if not a physical one. Which was more than fine with him. Still, he wondered what had spooked her. He shifted back behind the wheel, slid his own sunglasses back on. ‘Let’s go find something to eat.’
* * *
The wine estate was a celebration of colour, sound and flavours. Even though the vines had been pruned and tied in preparation for spring growth, the sky was blue, the last autumnal foliage still clung to deciduous trees, giving the atmosphere a glorious golden hue despite the chill in the air. A jazz band played in the barn area of the vineyard’s historic stables, wine sparkled, the aroma of cheese mingled with fried onions from the nearby barbecue.
Despite the undercurrent of low-grade sparks that sizzled between them, Leo found Brie’s wit and humour complemented his own as they worked their way through a variety of wines and cheeses and the inevitable sausage sizzle. True to typical Tasmanian tradition, the clouds eventually rolled in and the party turned soggy. They shared his umbrella on the way back to the car while she fed him pieces of quince-paste-lathered cracker.
As a responsible and sober driver, he drove them back, allowing plenty of time for Breanna to show him the McPherson retreat, named after a generous benefactor. But Breanna was dozing ten minutes after leaving the winery, catching up on her lack of sleep. He ought to be relieved, but, oddly, it was disappointment that dragged at him for the rain-soaked drive back to Hobart.
* * *
When Brie pried heavy eyes half open, she was looking at the familiar high-walled gate of the retreat through Leo’s rain-washed windscreen. His voice was low, his warm breath tickling her cheek. She couldn’t make out what he was saying but she wanted to slide back into sleep with that sexy murmur against her ear.
‘Wake up, baby doll.’ Sharper this time.
She blinked at the ridiculously incongruous term as it applied to her and snorted, ‘That’s a first.’ She pushed up, annoyed that she’d dozed off in front of Leo. More annoyed that he’d woken her from such exciti
ng dreams.
‘Security code.’ He sounded vaguely impatient, as if he’d asked her a few times already.
She recited it to him, then forced some energy into her voice and said, ‘I need my stuff. And my car.’
‘All taken care of.’ The gates slid back and he drove through. ‘Your stuff’s in the back but you won’t be driving for a few hours yet after that alcohol. I’ll drop you back at your house on my way to the coast if you want to stay there tonight and drive here tomorrow.’
He’d stopped and loaded her gear and she hadn’t woken? How was that possible? Maybe it had something to do with how super-relaxed she was feeling with the wine’s pleasant warmth still buzzing through her system. ‘Thanks, anyway, but I’ll be staying here tonight. And thanks for loading my stuff. I appreciate it. I’ll catch a cab to work tomorrow morning—I can pick the car up later.’ She’d been hanging out for her regular soak in the retreat’s spa all week and nothing was going to keep her from it.
She climbed out and the ground beneath her feet tilted a bit. ‘Come on in,’ she said, digging out her keys.
She pushed open the front door, smiled and breathed deep as the fresh smell of new work met her nostrils. ‘I’ll be moving Eve’s Naturally here as soon as Jett and Olivia return. I can’t wait to be a part of Livvy’s exciting vision.’
‘You sound as if you’re trying to sell it.’
‘It sells itself. And even better, we’re able to offer subsidised rates to disadvantaged clients, thanks to generous ongoing donations through Pink Snowflake—which your valuable and generous rent is going to.’
They spent a few minutes unloading her gear before she showed him around. She was so proud to be able to talk up and show off the professional services in addition to personal fitness coaches, the range of areas from solarium to meditation and yoga plus a fully staffed kitchen specialising in organic food. She pointed out the gorgeous bush-land and river views visible from floor-to-ceiling windows.
‘It’s going to open for business as soon as the happy couple can drag themselves back from honeymoon-land,’ she told him, switching on the heating and shrugging out of her jacket. ‘It’ll be a couple of months yet but we already have clients booked in.’
* * *
‘I can believe it.’ Leo wasn’t easily excited about the projects he saw on a daily basis but this unique set-up was something else. The creative use of space. The sparkling fixtures, recessed lighting, marble and honeyed Tasmanian Oak. The relaxing use of muted colours: mulberry and charcoal, blue and cream. The way it harmonised with the surrounding environment.
And the foundation that had made it possible.
He held a growing respect for these guys who’d pulled it together. ‘I’m impressed. And I don’t say that often.’
‘Of course you are, and I’m sure you don’t, Mr Hamilton.’ There was a smile in her voice as she tugged off her boots and nodded to another wing they’d not yet explored. ‘Take off your shoes then come and see my favourite place to relax in.’
He did, and moments later he saw an indoor pool with a blue and grey and green vista stretching all the way to the coast. Today the view was misty and waterlogged with rain sluicing down the huge panes. ‘I see why you love it.’
‘We’re not quite there yet,’ she said with a glint in her eyes and moved towards an archway on the far side.
He followed her to a massive shiny white spa surrounded by marble and gold and enclosed in glass. The same panorama of flora and river spread out before them.
Privacy with a view.
‘But if you want a change in scenery...’ Breanna pressed a remote.
Panels slid down on silent tracks, blocking all light and sound from the outside and leaving them bathed in a soft blush. Leo noted vaguely that the architect had designed a curvature in the panels, which prevented the light from the pool filtering into the spa’s area. The rest of the world ceased to exist as the watery sound of a harp trickled like silver over imaginary moss. The stresses of the last few days slid away. Afternoon turned to hot summer night as the floor beneath his bare feet warmed and he drank in the sight of Brie surrounded by a pink aura.
Her close-fitting dark clothes showcased her long limbs and slender body, her rounded breasts and mysterious eyes. It was almost as if he were under a spell.
And he might have spoken to tell her how amazing she looked, how much he wanted her and damn the consequences, but to speak would somehow seem irreverent at that moment.
He heard the sound of bare feet on marble as she crossed the room and lit half a dozen fat candles. The scent of sandalwood soon drifted on the air and he breathed slow and deep. It was almost as if she was seducing him.
Except she’d done nothing overtly provocative, nothing to entice him to play her game. Whatever her game was.
Should have heeded that glint in her eyes earlier.
Shaking himself out of the fog that enshrouded him, he concentrated on opening and closing his fists. Taking short sharp breaths.
What time was it? He checked his watch, swore under his breath. With the weather the way it was, he’d take longer to get to the coast than he’d planned. ‘I have to go.’ He flicked an impatient hand at the walls. ‘If you’d remove the privacy screens, please.’
‘Are you sure I can’t tempt you to stay a little longer?’ But even as she spoke the panels slid away and the intimate mood vanished, replaced by the cool glare of a wet afternoon.
‘It’s a—’
‘Three-hour drive,’ she finished for him. ‘I know.’ They turned and retraced their steps to where they’d left their shoes.
He put his on then straightened to look at her. Barefoot, her hair tousled from her earlier car nap and the inclement weather. Again, as it had earlier, her expression tugged at something inside him but he dismissed it in the same heartbeat. ‘Catch you later.’
‘If you change your mind, or decide to come back early...’ She stared up at him, eyes deep and dark and perceptive. ‘You’ll remember the code to get through the gate,’ she said, reaching into her jeans pocket. ‘And here’s a key-card for the retreat. You might want to use it sometime.’
‘I won’t need it,’ he told her, but found himself taking it anyway. It was warm from its proximity to her skin. An invitation he would resist.
‘That’s entirely up to you.’ She walked to the door, opened it. A gust of wet wind blew in with a flurry of leaves. She shivered and folded her arms tight across her shoulders. ‘Glad I’m going to be warm and cosy here.’
‘I’m glad you are too,’ he said. ‘Have a pleasant evening.’ And, turning before he could change his mind, he dashed through the downpour to his car.
There was no way he was going to be late for this meeting. No way in heaven.
SEVEN
Who was Brie? Leo pondered the riddle as he negotiated Hobart’s Derwent Bridge in heavy rain. The playful tease or the little girl lost? The up-front woman who insisted on honesty or the compassionate campaigner he’d only glimpsed beneath that flirty exterior—a side he’d not known existed until his conversation with Sam.
Obviously she didn’t do deep and meaningful relationships. And wasn’t that what he wanted too? A hot and mutually satisfying no-nonsense fling with no drama when one or both of them called it quits and moved on?
Assuming he wanted a fling with a woman who liked to be in the driver’s seat.
Thoughts of driving prompted him to check the time again. In this weather he was going to be later than planned. He’d call ahead when he was out of the suburbs and let them know the state of the roads and his ETA.
His thoughts turned relentlessly to Breanna again. Did he want a fling with a woman who called it as she saw it? A stunning and sexy woman who wasn’t afraid to let him know what she wanted? He found her personality surprisingly stimulating and refreshingly different. He found their subtle power tussles a challenge.
Leo thrived on challenge.
She’d all but seduced him earlier; h
e still didn’t know how she’d managed it without a touch, without one flirtatious word. Just that on-again off-again wicked glint in her eyes. So she wanted to play? He saw a U-turn opening in the road up ahead and flicked on his indicator.
Game on.
And he would win.
* * *
Brie was waiting for him on wide-cushioned matting at the edge of the spa when she saw his car pull up on the security monitor. Smiling, she rubbed her hands together in satisfaction—and spine-tingling expectation. She’d known he’d come back. She knew men. If there was a choice between a new lover and work they chose the sex every time. Leo Hamilton was no different.
So after he’d left this afternoon, she’d lowered the panels again. The light was a dim blush once more. She’d cranked up the temperature in the air and in the spa, changed the music to mellow blues and added a couple of essential oil burners to the candlelight for a soothing and relaxing atmosphere. She’d turned dismal day into sultry night.
A quick make-up repair then she’d changed into a long silk garment of midnight blue, leaving her feet bare. She’d wavered between sexy underwear or none at all, and had decided to initiate her new tangerine lace with black trim, which had cost her almost a week’s takings. She hoped he appreciated it before she let him take it off her. Because it was all about the sex and what man didn’t enjoy a little mystery to unwrap first?
And it was going to be good. Better than good. Because they understood each other from the start. He wasn’t her type, she wasn’t his but they had this thing going on. It would be casual, fun sex. Temporary. Something to enjoy and work out of their systems then move on. No heart, no hurt.
Suddenly there he was. Before she was quite ready for him. A darker silhouette against the dark panels. Only his eyes flashed in the wavering candlelight. Power emanated from that gaze. Strength. Control. Dominance.
And for the first time in her life with a new lover, she felt a flicker of nerves zip down her body.
Not fear. She knew on an instinctive level he’d never harm her. This was something deeper, something primal. Something that tore her open and left her defenceless. And a growing awareness that here was the potential for pain of a different kind. If she let there be..