Holiday with a Stranger

by Christy McKellen

  The alien sense of belonging left her dumbstruck as he included her in the conversation, turning his body to encompass her in his personal space and directing every other comment in her direction. They could have been a couple out for a leisurely afternoon amble around the city for all anyone else knew. A twinge of gloom came out of nowhere, pinching her chest and leaving her breathless as it hit home how false this all was. How fleeting.

  She must have made some sort of gasping sound, because Connor shot her a look of concern.

  ‘You all right, Josie?’

  She nodded, flapping away his concern while scrambling to re-establish the sanguine mood she’d been so captivated by only a minute ago. It was like tipping over from being fun drunk to having had one drink too many.

  ‘Fine, I just need to sit down and have a break. It’s pretty hot out here.’

  * * *

  Connor took in Josie’s flushed face and the deep pinch of a frown on her forehead and realised it was time to move on. The last thing he wanted was for her to collapse in the heat again. Nodding a goodbye to the stallholder, he took her arm and guided her to the side of the busy street, searching around for somewhere to sit down.

  ‘Do you want to get a cold drink?’ he asked as she lifted the hair away from the back of her neck and flapped her hand up and down to create a wave of cool.

  ‘Actually, I’m gasping for a coffee and something to eat,’ she said, her eyes wide and troubled. ‘I think my blood sugar’s a bit low.’

  He nodded and pointed to a small side street. ‘Let’s cut through here and find somewhere a bit quieter.’

  He still had hold of her arm, but he didn’t feel like letting it go, so he looped his wrist through the curve of her elbow, keeping her close, but still free to move easily. It comforted him to hold her near him.

  The end of the street opened out onto a small square with a long strip of sandy-coloured gravel running to one side, where a group of men were playing pétanque. They paused for a minute to watch the game, and the men shouting and joshing each other as their balls landed miles from where they’d intended.

  The convivial atmosphere heartened him. He was exactly where he wanted to be right now, which was a new experience. Usually he was eager to move on quickly to the next place and begin something new, always thinking ahead, not giving himself time to fully experience the moment he was in. The weight of duty he normally carried around had lifted for the time being; it was doing him good to slow down for a while.

  His train of thought ground to a halt as a small hand landed on Josie’s shoulder, making her jump and tug sharply on his arm.

  ‘Excuse me, do I know you?’ an English voice asked.

  They both turned to face a short, middle-aged woman with a badly sunburned face and a voluminous chest spilling over the top of her ill-fitting vest. Connor could tell by Josie’s expression that she was building herself up for the usual polite conversation about her sister and his hands twitched uncomfortably in sympathy. He should find a way to get them out of there quickly; he didn’t want some ignorant tourist ruining what was turning out to be a pleasant outing.

  The woman wrinkled her nose as she scrutinised Josie, her beady eyes raking her face.

  ‘No, sorry, we’ve never met,’ Josie said patiently, clearly hoping the woman would fail to make the connection and walk away.

  ‘You look so familiar...’ the woman said slowly, her brow creased in confusion.

  Josie flashed her a polite smile and went to turn away just as the woman’s eyes sparked with life and her brain caught up with her mouth.

  ‘I’ve got it! You look just like Maddie Marchpane from Sensational Science—except not quite as...’ She wrinkled her nose again disdainfully and wiggled her fingers in Josie’s face, eager to bestow her insensitive pearls of wisdom.

  Connor took an instinctive step forward, anger flaring in his chest at her witlessness, aware that the look he was giving her was less than friendly. The woman’s gaze flicked to him and she stopped short, flapping a hand in front of her own face now, clearly backtracking on whichever tactless adjective she’d almost let slip.

  Her face flushed red with embarrassment. ‘Um...not quite as blonde.’ She gave them a quavering smile. ‘I’m a huge fan of Maddie—her show is wonderful,’ she rushed on.

  ‘I’ll let her know you said so,’ Josie said kindly. ‘My sister’s always delighted to hear it when people enjoy the programme.’

  The woman gave her a beaming smile in return, relief that she hadn’t offended Josie clear on her face. ‘How nice to have a famous sister. And one as popular as Maddie too.’

  ‘Have a great holiday,’ Josie said firmly, moving away and pulling on Connor’s arm to suggest he come with her.

  They’d walked to the end of the square before he trusted himself to speak, the irritation still bubbling like acid in his veins. ‘You’re one classy lady, Josie Marchpane.’

  She looked at him and laughed out loud. ‘I thought she was going to pee her pants when you shot her that intimidating glare of yours.’

  ‘Well, maybe that’ll teach her to keep her pedestrian opinions to herself in the future,’ he said, scowling at the woman’s retreating back.

  ‘Have you ever thought of hiring yourself out as a bodyguard? You’d make a fortune just by glowering at people.’

  He snorted in response. Usually he didn’t get involved in other people’s conflicts, but he didn’t seem to be able to stop himself when it came to Josie. She brought out the warrior in him.

  They passed by a small café with tables lined up on a raised terrace, the red checked tablecloths and vases of vivacious sunflowers cheerfully gaudy against the subtle sandy gold of the stone buildings surrounding them.

  ‘That looks like a good place. Fancy it?’ he asked, nodding behind them to an empty table.

  ‘Sure,’ she said, turning and heading back to where he’d pointed.

  They made themselves comfortable and a waiter brought them menus and a basket of bread.

  ‘Hmm, there’s some peculiar-sounding meals here,’ Josie said, scanning the specials list she’d been handed.

  ‘You should try something new. You never know—you might find you like it,’ he said, throwing her a challenging smile.

  ‘You’re not going to try talking me into eating snails for a laugh, are you?’ she asked with a shiver, her eyes alive with mirth and her lips quirking into a bewitching grin.

  He leant forward in his chair, locking his gaze with hers and tipping his head in an attempt to convey being conspiratorial. ‘I don’t think we need to be feeding you an aphrodisiac right now, Josie. Delicate parts of us might fall off if you get any hornier.’

  She raised a defiant eyebrow. ‘I seem to remember you jumping on me in the shower this morning. And forcing me to abandon our game of chess last night for a quickie on the floor of the snug.’

  His pulse raced at the memory. He shrugged, his grin widening at her playful expression. ‘I was running interference. I knew I was going to lose so I thought I’d make the game a bit more interesting.’

  ‘You big fat cheat,’ she said, kicking him gently under the table. ‘Although, to give you your due, what we ended up doing after abandoning the chess game was much more fun.’

  Gazing at her, with the hazy afternoon sunlight on her face, he thought she’d never looked so beautiful. If he’d found her impressive before it was nothing to the way he reacted to her now. She was definitely a grower; the more he was around her the more she drew him into her web of temptation.

  The low pulse of arousal he experienced whenever she was near intensified exponentially. At this rate they wouldn’t make it back to the farmhouse before he felt compelled to jump on her. Alfresco sex wasn’t normally his bag, but he felt sure he could overlook that fact just this once.

  W
hy couldn’t life always be like this?

  The question came out of nowhere, slamming him in the chest with the force of a bullet.

  He needed to pull himself together. The stupefying heat and relaxed atmosphere were tricking his senses into believing this was all real, but he knew the truth. It was temporary, just like all holidays away from the humdrum of normal life. She was temporary, and he needed to keep a handle on that or he was going to find himself in big trouble.

  * * *

  The following day Connor left the farmhouse and went to the bank to handle some business transactions, leaving Josie alone for the first time in days. She’d assumed she’d be pleased to have some time on her own, but after only an hour without him she was aching for him to come back and found herself pacing the house, a nervy energy keeping her on the move between kitchen and snug, bathroom and bedroom.

  In each room she delighted in the cosy comfort she’d come to know and love. A warm blush travelled across her cheeks as she realised there wasn’t a room they hadn’t had sex in—even the junk room hadn’t been left out after she’d discovered him in there looking for a book he’d packed away and one thing had led to another.

  It was already hard to think about leaving all this behind. Had it really only been two weeks? It felt as if she’d been here for months and the days and nights had merged into each other.

  Despite her promise to herself to treat their affair as what it was—a fun holiday fling—she couldn’t stop herself from wondering what it would be like to have Connor as a partner.

  He excited and challenged her, opened her mind to things she’d spent her life hiding from, and she’d never known such peace as when she was with him. She felt so protected. As if she could leave it up to someone else to look out for her for a change.

  Before she’d met Connor an incident like the one with the woman yesterday would have stayed with her for days, eating away at her fragile confidence, feeding her sense of failure and driving her to work harder, longer, faster. But not now.

  His presence galvanised her, inspiring in her a poised indifference she’d never known she had. The realisation that she was learning by his example hit her like a jackhammer. Her confidence was emerging bit by bit from the dark vault of her mind and it was Connor she had to thank for pointing the way out.

  Over the past few days she’d allowed her overactive imagination to flit around the idea that he’d changed his mind about only treating this as a fling—that she’d somehow penetrated that wall of detachment he protected himself with. But surely she was kidding herself. There was no way Connor wanted more from her than a casual holiday affair. How could he? He was a drifter who didn’t seem to stick anywhere for long. She needed stability in her life. Her time here had been a roller coaster, but she couldn’t live like that.

  * * *

  Later that evening, after dinner, they snuggled up on the sofa drinking a peaty-smelling whisky that Connor had unearthed from the sideboard.

  ‘Do you spend any time in London?’ she asked tentatively.

  Connor was sitting behind her, holding her against him, so she couldn’t see his face, but she felt him stiffen.

  ‘No. I hate the place. I’ve no plans ever to go back to England.’

  She wasn’t surprised. She couldn’t picture him there somehow, with his casual manner and self-contained attitude. He was too big for the place—too vibrant and healthy. She knew how London could suck the life out of a person, and she couldn’t bear the thought of that happening to Connor.

  ‘So what’s next for you?’ she asked.

  ‘This new project in India, then who knows?’

  ‘It sounds like a hard life. Don’t you crave some stability?’ She hoped he couldn’t feel the heavy thumping of her heart against his chest.

  Connor snorted. ‘I like things the way they are. I feel trapped if I stay somewhere too long.’

  A heavy weight thunked into her stomach. ‘Right.’

  She thought about her own life. How different they were. Apart from the odd business trip she spent the majority of her time in one place; he never seemed to stay still for long.

  ‘You must find it hard to hold down any relationship if you’re always moving on?’ She prayed the shake in her voice wouldn’t give her away.

  Connor nodded. ‘Yeah.’

  Josie waited for him to elaborate. The silence stretched on.

  She wasn’t ever going to see him again. She knew that. She just didn’t want to believe it. He was right; they lived in different worlds. Different universes.

  How was she going to go back to her old life, knowing he was out there somewhere but that she’d never see him again? What if it always felt as if a piece of her was constantly missing?

  She liked him. She really, really liked him.

  Trying to shake off the thought, she told herself she’d forget all about him once she got her head back into work, but she was uncomfortably aware that the lure of working didn’t hold the appeal it once had.

  What had she done? She’d gone and replaced one obsession with another, and this new one was going to stride out of the door some time very soon and never look back.

  * * *

  Connor cursed himself. He’d known this would happen. The subtle questions about what he was doing next and the not so subtle one asking how he could live like that were already being wheeled out. How could he have thought it was going to be any different with Josie? She’d seemed so autonomous he’d thought he’d get away with it this time, but she was already ringing conversational warning bells.

  Damn it.

  Not that the thought of what it would be like to see more of her hadn’t flitted through his mind. But that was all it had been—a passing whim. He’d banished the thought as soon as it sprang into his consciousness. He’d promised himself he wouldn’t do this again. Not after the mess with Katherine. He wasn’t ready to give enough of himself to a relationship—not when there was still so much to fix in the world.

  There was that hot, panicky feeling again—which he refused to acknowledge this time. It wasn’t going to get the better of him. She wouldn’t get the better of him. This thing between them had a use-by date, which was now uncomfortably close. She obviously felt it too if she was starting to ask the Where are we going now? questions.

  A sudden blinding anger coursed through him. Why the hell was she going there when they’d agreed not to? Now he was going to look like the bad guy again when he put an end to this fling.

  She turned on the sofa to face him and he had to grit his teeth and force a smile, so as not to alert her to the raging fury he was battling with.

  He obviously wasn’t doing a very good job because she frowned and drew back.

  Before she could ask him anything else he put his hands on either side of her face and pulled her roughly towards him. Kissing her hard, he pushed her down onto her back and ran his hands up under her skirt.

  He wanted to stop her asking any more of him than he felt able to give, and this was the best way he knew. As good an avoidance technique as any.

  Pulling her lacy knickers roughly away from her body, he heard the delicate material rip. Opening his eyes, he saw she had hers open too and was staring at him in surprise. Tamping down on a twist of self-reproach, he moved away from her, pulling her with him and guiding her off the sofa onto her knees, so she had her back to him and her belly pressed into the soft cushions.

  ‘Spread your legs,’ he said, and she complied without a word.

  Her total submission thrilled him and his erection pressed hard against the material of his trousers, eager for action. Reaching into his back pocket, he extracted a condom, then freed himself from his clothing so he could roll it on.

  Shifting her skirt, he slid between her legs, pressing against her soft folds so she could feel how hard he was.


  She gasped as he rubbed himself against her, the action becoming easier as she became slipperier with her own silky arousal. He nudged her clitoris each time he thrust against her and she let out a low moan as he drew back and forth over her sensitive nerves.

  Hands splayed in front of her, she dropped her forehead to the cushions, refusing to look back at him. She was giving herself to him without barriers—without any kind of fight for once—and it almost stopped him in his tracks. This wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want her compliant and withdrawn. He wanted her fiery and passionate and playful.

  ‘Just do it. Stop torturing me and do it.’

  Her voice was ragged, strained and urgent. Even though he knew this wasn’t just about the sex it didn’t stop him from burying himself inside her, plunging himself right up to the hilt. Grabbing her hips in his hands, he took long, deep strokes inside her, punishing her for the words, the questions, the need.

  A surge of dull pain in his chest and an aching tightness in his lungs distracted him for a second, but he battled against it. He wouldn’t let it win—wouldn’t let her win. Not this battle.

  He slammed into her over and over again, hearing her grunt and gasp under him, her long hair flying across her back as they moved forcefully together. Reaching round, he found the slick nub of her clit and flicked his thumb over it, feeling her twitch and spasm beneath him as her gasps became louder and more intense.

  ‘Come for me now, Josie,’ he demanded, and she did, her tight muscles clamping around him, drawing him in deeper, the rock of her body urging him to go harder as she came.

  It only took another couple of strokes before he was there too, pouring himself into her, the disorientating sensation muddled with his anger and desperation and confusion.