Holiday with a Stranger

by Christy McKellen

  It had been an oddly cathartic experience, talking to him about what had happened at work, and he’d been really sweet about it, but she was furious with herself for letting her guard down like that. What must he think of her? And the sex. Oh, God, the hot, desperate, messy sex. She’d been totally out of her mind last night.

  Shuffling to the edge of the bed and swinging her legs out slowly, she found she was twitchy and on edge. How was one supposed to act after a night of hot sex with a virtual stranger? She had absolutely no idea.

  Grabbing some clean underwear, a pair of shorts and a vest top, she quietly left the room so as not to wake him. She needed a strong cup of coffee and some time to compose herself before she faced him again.

  After taking a speedy shower in the bathroom she swiped mascara onto her lashes and took stock of herself in the mirror. The sun had turned her usually creamy skin a subtle honey colour and she was pleased to see it rather suited her. She could almost pass for healthy-looking.

  Down in the kitchen, she was watching the last bit of coffee drip into the jug when she heard a noise behind her and turned to find Connor leaning against the doorjamb. He’d put on a pair of shorts, but he was still bare-chested.

  Her heart nearly leaped out of her body at the sight of him.

  When she was finally able to drag her gaze up from where the perfectly contoured triangle of his hips disappeared into the top of his shorts she attempted to focus on his face. Had she really kissed him all over last night, running her tongue along the lines that delineated his muscles and ending up somewhere very delicious indeed? It was almost impossible to look him in the eye with those memories flashing through her mind.

  ‘Morning,’ she said. Playing it cool was the only way to deal with this. She hoped.

  He smiled in an I-know-just-what’s-going-through-that-dirty-mind-of-yours way and ran a hand through his bedhead hair.

  Her mind flicked to the image of him asleep. The look of peace on his strong face had made him seem more vulnerable somehow, but there was no trace of that left now. He was back to being the bear of a man she was used to.

  ‘Morning, Josie. How’s your head today?’ he said.

  Clearly he was having no problem whatsoever with the fact that they’d screwed each other silly last night. She envied him his total imperturbability.

  ‘Fine. Good. It’s not...er...it’s fine. Thanks.’

  Where had her power of speech scurried off to?

  Connor grinned and sauntered over to where she was hovering by the coffee maker. Leaning across, he grabbed the jug and poured them both a mugful before handing one to her without a word.

  She leant back against the worktop, grateful for its sturdiness in the face of her sudden inability to support her own body weight. She focused on him slotting bread into the toaster to calm herself. God, she loved how he moved.

  How was she ever going to function normally in his presence again? She really needed to get things straight here before she lost her mind.

  ‘So, what happens now?’ she asked, casually flicking her hair over her shoulder and simultaneously sloshing coffee onto the floor by her feet.

  ‘We drink coffee.’ He glanced down at the floor in amusement. ‘Preferably out of our mugs.’

  ‘No, I mean how is this going to work? You and I?’ she asked, ignoring a hot flush of embarrassment.

  He turned to look at her and smiled. ‘Do you want me to write you a schedule of events?’

  Despite her awkwardness, Josie couldn’t help laughing. ‘That won’t be necessary, thanks. I meant... Oh, I don’t know what I meant. I have no clue what to think about all this.’

  He moved to where she stood against the worktop and put one hand on either side of her body, trapping her. The heat of his presence warmed her clammy skin.

  ‘Josie, relax. Stop trying to plan everything and just go with it.’

  Leaning in, he kissed her nose. He smelt of sleep with an undertone of his own peppery scent.

  Josie closed her eyes, allowing herself to enjoy the closeness of his body for a moment. She was uncomfortably aware that she needed to keep some part of herself aloof from him. He would be leaving soon and she needed to make it as easy on herself as possible.

  ‘Okay, well, I’m going to go and make some more notes on that tender I was writing before I completely forget it,’ she said on reflex, forgetting her decision to step away from work. It was a natural defence mechanism—a habit she’d developed when she needed to avoid the real world.

  His body stiffened and he pushed himself away to arm’s length. ‘Josie...’ There was a warning tone in his voice. ‘If you want this holiday to do you some good you’re going to have to keep your head out of work.’

  ‘I—’ she began.

  ‘No work. No writing documents.’

  There was a heavy silence while she considered the wisdom of his words. She really had no leg to stand on after what she’d told him last night.

  ‘Yeah. Okay.’

  He nodded and moved away as his toast popped up. She watched him spread it with butter and honey and wolf it down while she sipped her coffee. He even managed to make eating breakfast look sexy.

  ‘So, what are your plans for the day? No more treks in the midday heat, I hope,’ he said, breaking into her thoughts about what she’d love to do with the rest of that honey.

  She cleared her throat before trusting herself to speak. ‘I’m going to stay here today. I might even try some cooking. I hear it’s relaxing.’

  Connor nodded, raising a questioning eyebrow. He looked as if he was going to say something, then shrugged.

  ‘Good luck with that,’ he said at last. ‘I’m going out.’

  The disappointment nearly floored her.

  ‘Oh. Okay.’ She struggled to keep her voice level, not wanting him to see how much this affected her. Not even sure why it did. Just because they’d had sex, it didn’t mean he was under any obligation to spend all his time with her. ‘Have a good time,’ she said lamely.

  He ran a hand through his tousled hair. Turned as if to go. Turned back. ‘You should come with me.’

  Her head shot up. ‘What?’

  ‘Come to the beach with me. It might keep you out of trouble for a while.’

  Excitement flooded through her, followed closely by unease. Perhaps she was pushing her luck here. He didn’t really want her tagging along but obviously felt sorry for her.

  ‘Maybe I should rest up here today?’ she hedged.

  ‘Be ready to go in half an hour.’

  She glimpsed a hint of a smile in his eyes.

  Before she had time to utter another word he turned and walked away, and she heard him mount the stairs, apparently taking them two at a time.

  * * *

  What had made him do that? Connor wondered as he showered. He’d been all set to get away from the house and clear his head when he’d done a complete U-turn.

  What had happened with Josie last night had him spun. He’d felt an almost animalistic urge to protect her and the ferocity of the feeling had shocked him. She was obviously embarrassed today about what they’d done so he’d thought the kindest thing to do would be to give her some space.

  It had been the look on her face, he decided, when he’d said he was leaving her alone, that had changed his mind. She’d looked so forlorn he hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it.

  She was obviously trying to hide the fact she wanted to go out to save face, but he could sense her desperation to leave the farmhouse. She was going to go stir-crazy on her own. Cold turkey was insanely difficult to handle when you didn’t have company.

  Besides, it would be more fun to go to the beach with someone else. It didn’t have to mean anything. They were two people who just happened to have had sex, going to the beach for a
change of scene. As he’d pointed out last night, it wasn’t as if there was any future in this thing between them. It was a holiday fling—nothing more.

  He dressed in khaki shorts and a light cotton T-shirt, grabbed his sunglasses and went to find Josie.

  She was waiting for him in the kitchen, a bag at her feet, drumming her fingers against the tabletop. Was she playing a tune in her head? he wondered. The movement of her fingers reminded him of a pianist’s.

  ‘Do you play?’

  She spun around, looking flustered. ‘I’m sorry?’

  ‘The piano? Do you play? You always seem to be tapping out a rhythm. I wondered if you were playing to yourself.’

  She smiled. ‘Nothing gets past you, does it?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Actually, I do play, but I haven’t for a while. I miss my piano.’

  ‘Well, maybe we can do something about that.’ He bent down and picked up her bag. ‘Let’s go.’

  He clocked her confused expression and smiled to himself. Today could be fun.

  * * *

  His car was a cherry-red soft-top Triumph Stag. He loved it. He’d missed it whilst he was away and couldn’t wait to take it out for a spin. Pulling back the dust sheet, he uncovered the gleaming bodywork and soft leather interior. It was a piece of art: characterful and stylish, unlike some of the garish sports cars that dominated the roads these days. This car was a gentleman amongst peasants.

  He ran a loving hand over it before unlocking the doors and holding Josie’s open for her. She’d noticed the caress and was smiling at him, an eyebrow raised.

  ‘Nice car.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  She slid into the passenger seat and Connor caught a flash of her bare legs as she swung them in. He swore under his breath. What was he doing? He probably should have taken her straight back to bed instead of going along with this sham friendly trip to the seaside. Just a flash of her shapely calves had sent his responses into overload, and now he had to endure over an hour in close proximity with her without being able to take advantage of the fact.

  Too late now.

  He took his time clipping down the soft top of the roof to give his body a chance to settle down, before striding round to the driver’s seat and sliding in next to her.

  ‘You’d better cover your hair for the journey,’ he said, leaning across her to open the glove compartment. He kept his hand as far away from her legs as he could, acutely aware that temptation was a mere five centimetres away.

  He pulled a scarf roughly out of the glove compartment and tossed it to her.

  ‘Nice.’ She looked at the scarf, then at him, a mirthful eyebrow raised. ‘Hermes. Not the sort of item I’d expect to find in your possession. Is there something you want to tell me?’

  Her eyes were full of laughter. It was lovely to see her lightening up a bit.

  ‘Very funny.’ He smiled back. ‘It belonged to an old girlfriend. I forgot to throw it away.’

  ‘Really? Throw it away? Not give it back? Sounds like it ended messily.’

  He bridled, uncomfortable with the turn in conversation. ‘Yeah,’ he said gruffly, ‘it did.’

  They both shifted in their seats.

  ‘Have you been split up for long?’

  ‘About a year.’ He stared at the steering wheel, unwilling to allow this conversation to develop.

  ‘Katherine, right?’

  He could sense her looking at him intently.

  ‘You thought I was her in your bed the other night, didn’t you?’

  He so didn’t want to be talking about Katherine right now. He nodded curtly, hoping she’d drop the subject.

  ‘Why did you split up?’

  He sighed, giving her a reproachful look, trying to scare her off the subject. ‘She wanted to get married, I didn’t.’ Hopefully that was the end of the inquisition.

  ‘Why not?’

  Apparently it wasn’t. ‘We were a bad fit.’

  ‘Because she was looking for some stability?’

  He gripped the steering wheel, the tendons in his hands tensing against the pressure.

  ‘I didn’t want it enough.’

  ‘You love your freedom more?’

  ‘Can we drop the subject?’ he snapped, making her jump. He hated having to explain to new partners why his previous relationships had failed. Not that Josie was a partner. She wasn’t anything to him. Nothing at all.

  ‘Okay, I’m sorry.’ Josie held her hands up as a peace offering. ‘I was being nosy. It’s none of my business.’

  Firing up the engine, he backed out of the garage, killing the conversation. Mercifully, the roar of the engine and the crunch of the wheels on the road made it difficult to talk again.

  * * *

  It took them an hour and a half to reach Cannes. They headed straight for the centre and parked up.

  ‘Okay. Let’s rock this place,’ Connor quipped, unfolding his large frame from the car and running a hand through his windswept hair.

  The streets were crowded with summer visitors out enjoying the sunshine. They wove through them to get to the tree-lined Croisette, which was bordered on one side by the calm, sparkling Mediterranean Sea and on the other by some of the most exclusive hotels in the South of France.

  ‘Wow, this is amazing,’ Josie said, looking around in awe.

  Connor glanced over at her. ‘You like?’

  ‘Sure do. Where are we going first?’ She couldn’t keep the excitement out of her voice. This place was something else—vibrant with life and humming with possibility.

  ‘The Carlton Hotel. I need a drink.’

  Josie would have preferred to head straight to the beach, but she didn’t want to get separated from him and find herself stranded. She’d decided in the car to go with whatever flow Connor chose today. That strategy seemed to have worked out pretty well so far.

  Connor strode through the crowds, which parted to make way for him. He had such a dominating presence Josie wasn’t surprised people didn’t want to get in his path. There was a defiance about him that seemed to act like a force field, and apparently she wasn’t the only one to feel it. It felt good to walk beside him, as if he was her own private bodyguard.

  They passed rows of designer shops, their windows all dressed with cutting-edge couture. Josie slowed down to gape at some of the crazy fashion on show.

  ‘Want to go shopping?’ Connor asked, a look of patent dread on his face.

  She shook her head. ‘No, thanks. I suspect I’d regret paying five hundred euros for a T-shirt that’ll be out of fashion in a month.’

  He swiped an exaggerated hand over his brow, the relief evident on his face.

  They approached the magnificent frontage of the Carlton Hotel and he led her in through the terrace, where groups of fashionistas were soaking up the rays whilst sipping elegant-looking cocktails. Josie squeezed past the crowded tables, feeling the eyes of the patrons on her. Her earlier euphoria at being here evaporated. Dressed as she was, in shorts and a vest, she felt totally out of place. It had been so long since she’d gone to a bar like this one she’d forgotten how self-conscious they made her feel.

  She was surprised Connor had chosen this place. Based on what she knew of him so far, she would have thought he’d be more at home in a dark, anonymous pub. But then she suspected she didn’t really know him. He hadn’t shown her his real self. It was all front and no substance. There was a private self in there somewhere that he wasn’t allowing out.

  Josie followed Connor into the grand lounge, stopping at the entrance to take in the magnificent sight that met her while Connor went to the bar.

  The high ceilings and large windows allowed the summer sun to flood into the room, striking the large pillars that ran through the middle of the sp
ace and reflecting light back from the subtle creams and yellows of the decor. Large chandeliers hung majestically above art-deco-inspired seating arrangements that were sparsely populated due to the lure of the sunlit terrace outside. The clientele obviously came to the Carlton to be seen rather than to appreciate the beautiful architecture of the building. A large black-lacquered grand piano in the middle of the room caught Josie’s eye and she became aware of her fingers as they twitched at her sides.

  Connor approached carrying two drinks and handed one to her.

  ‘Champagne cocktail.’

  The way he said it was halfway between an order and a dare. There was no way he was letting her get away with not drinking the proffered drink.

  ‘Are you trying to get me drunk?’

  Connor smiled. ‘On one glass of champagne? Surely it takes more than that to get the better of you?’

  He kept a straight face but the innuendo hung between them. Josie’s stomach did a double backflip as images from the night before ran through her mind. It had taken precious little persuasion to get the better of her then.

  ‘It takes a lot more than that,’ she bluffed, taking the drink from him with a slow smile. It was such fun flirting with him. ‘Thanks.’

  He watched as she took a tentative sip and a shot of pure pleasure fizzed through her veins.

  She didn’t normally drink much, having always been too busy to allow her control to slip and deal with the consequences. She didn’t have time for partying and hangovers, but all those curtailed birthday parties and missed nights out had left her with a dwindling base of friends whom she barely spoke to any more. She felt a twinge of shame at the thought. That definitely wasn’t something she was admitting to Connor.

  ‘Okay,’ he said, once she’d taken another sip, ‘go and play.’

  ‘What?’ Was he crazy?

  ‘The piano. Go and play. I know you’re desperate to. I saw that look of longing when you first came in.’

  ‘I can’t just sit down in a hotel lounge and start playing their piano.’ Her heart pounded at the thought of it. She never played for other people; it was something very private to her.