‘Anton is a genius.’ She turned to him, felt her heart stutter at the hungry look on his face. ‘So! We nail the seating plan now and we’re done, right?’
Leo stepped closer to her. ‘That makes you happy, Sunshine, doesn’t it?’
‘Of—of course.’
‘The fact that we’ve done all the planning? Or that you don’t have to see me again?’
‘But I do have to see you,’ she said faintly. ‘At the trial dinner.’
‘You’re scared of me.’
‘That’s...insane.’
‘Prove it.’
‘There’s nothing to prove. And how could I prove it anyway?’
‘Kiss me.’
She goggled at him. ‘Excuse me?’
‘You used to. Every time you saw me. Before we had sex, at least. I thought things didn’t change for you just because you had sex with someone.’
‘They...they don’t.’
‘Then kiss me hello. Or you can make it goodbye, if you want. But do it. The way you used to. Just a kiss on the cheek.’
She shook her head.
He smiled. ‘Ah. So you’re the one who won’t touch now, Sunshine.’
‘I—I do. I mean, I can. But it’s not... I just...’
He reached out, grabbed her elbow, and she jumped back.
‘See?’ he said. ‘What’s the problem? You’ve stayed friends with all your exes. Why not me?’
‘You’re not an ex.’ Her eyes widened as she realised what she’d said. ‘I mean, you are.’ Stop. Breathe. Swallow. Hair toss. ‘Of course we’re friends.’
‘So kiss me.’
She gave an exaggerated, exasperated sigh. ‘All right,’ she said. She leant forward and kissed his cheek. ‘There! Satisfied?’
‘No. Do it again. Slower. And touch me this time. Your hand, somewhere on me.’
‘Ridiculous,’ she muttered.
‘Just do it.’
She touched his wrist, the burn mark. ‘What happened there?’
‘Hot pan, don’t change the subject—and that’s not touching.’
‘Okay—where do you want me to touch you?’ she asked, rolling her eyes with great theatricality.
His eyebrows shot up. He blinked. Slowly. Again.
Seriously? He was thinking about there?
But, ‘Improvise...’ was what he said.
With the air of a person suffering a fool, and not gladly, she ran her fingers up his forearm. ‘There.’
‘Now do that and kiss me at the same time.’
‘This is stupid.’
‘Do it.’
Huffing out an agitated breath, Sunshine leant up and gave him a fleeting kiss on the cheek while her hand gripped his forearm.
‘There! Satisfied?’ she said again. Hmm. That had come out a little too breathy.
‘Not good enough—you’re not usually that tentative. Try again.’
She stood there, chewing her lip for a moment, and then, as though going into battle, she grabbed him by both arms and kissed him lingeringly on the cheek.
She felt the sizzle, the almost convulsive need to press into him. Jerked back. Stared. ‘So!’ she said, a little unsteadily.
‘It’s not going to work, Sunshine,’ he said.
‘I did it. It worked.’
‘You know what I mean.’
‘If you’re talking about sex, I—I told you. Two times. Over. Done with. Moving on.’
He stepped closer. ‘I didn’t agree to two. You’re not moving on—not in any sense. And I still want you.’
He looked into her eyes. She could feel the lust pulsing out of him. She could smell it. Almost taste the musky promise of it.
‘You want me too,’ he said. ‘I can see it. Your eyes... You know, the size of a person’s pupils is the result of a balancing act between the autonomic nervous system, which controls the fight-or-flight response, and the parasympathetic system, known for its rest and digest functions—I read that online. Another fact to add to your collection.’
He stepped closer still.
‘But I prefer a simpler explanation—sexual interest in what you’re looking at makes your pupils dilate. And yours, Sunshine, are looking mighty dilated.’
He pulled her into his arms, kissed her hard.
‘Compromise number two, Sunshine. And assignation number three. You’re not leaving here until it’s done.’
NINE
Without waiting for a response he reached for the zipper at the back of her dress and slid it down. He peeled the dress over her shoulders, down to her hips.
The dress fell to the floor and she stood there in her underwear. He’d never seen her underwear before, but wasn’t surprised to find it was the sexiest in the world. Petal-pink, the same colour as her dress—and he had a sudden insight that Sunshine’s underwear would always match her clothes. He’d never been a lingerie man. Until today, when he was confronted by Sunshine’s wispy, lacy bra, with its tiny ribbon bows, and the matching French knickers that reminded him of a frothy strawberry dessert.
His heart was hammering wildly in his chest. He touched the bra, the knickers. ‘These are staying on,’ he said, and turned her to face the mirror, where they could both watch as his hands covered her breasts, caressed her through the lace, slid down her body.
When his fingers dived beneath the elastic of those gorgeous knickers he could see her eyes close, her mouth gasp open. That gap between her teeth looked so damned hot!
Then she threw her head back against his shoulder, opened herself to him, and he couldn’t think about anything except his desperate need to have her.
‘Touch me—touch me, please,’ she whimpered, and his hand slid down, between her legs, where the heat and the wetness of her almost made him come on the spot.
She orgasmed quietly—a single, sighing groan easing through her parted lips; she went so boneless she would have melted to the floor if he hadn’t been holding her.
But Leo wasn’t done. He kissed her ear. ‘Watch,’ he said, and she opened her eyes, watching in the mirror again.
He lifted her right leg slightly up and outwards, so she could see the movement of his fingers as they slid beneath the silk of her knickers.
‘I love these,’ he said, tugging the crotch aside a little, then dragging the waist down so she was just a little exposed, open to him.
Behind her, he smoothly, quietly, undid his jeans. Her eyes were heavy-lidded, glittering, fixed on his as he sheathed himself inside her. It was almost gentle, the way he moved—and it was a test of his control, because he was wild for her. But this time, this coupling, was all about acceptance. And so he moved slowly, stayed still inside her for long moments...and when he did move it was by infinitesimal degrees, never withdrawing from her, always there. Hands running across her skin, along the scars. Until that groaning release of hers again, when he gripped her hips and followed her, groaning her name, holding her, as the waves washed over them, unhurried, sweet, delicious.
At last she stepped away from him, bent to retrieve her dress, slid it on. She turned her back for him to zip her into it.
The he turned her to face him. Put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Sunshine?’ His voice had that gravelly post-coital timbre to it.
No smile. Just a haunted look unlike any he’d ever seen on her face.
‘I—I’m going to go now.’
‘The champagne. It’s too soon to drive. You should wait.’
‘I didn’t want all that champagne.’
‘We’ll do the seating plan. Over pizza, remember?’
‘The seating plan?’ She sounded incredulous.
‘I— Yes. No. Whatever you want.’
‘Leo, I can’t do this. I don’t want to.’
/>
‘The seating plan?’
‘No, not the damned seating plan. The sex. The chat. The post-coital friend routine.’
‘You said you were always friends afterwards.’
‘It’s different. I...I care about you. And it’s not kind or—or...fair to do this to me.’
‘Do what?’
‘Try and put me in a position where I will end up caring more—because that’s what will happen. I don’t know why you’d bother, unless it’s some twisted game. Or a challenge just because I set the rules.’
‘I don’t play by the rules, Sunshine.’
‘And I don’t want to be a challenge.’ She pushed tiredly at her fringe. Then squared her shoulders. ‘So! I’ll tell you what. You win. You come and claim your fourth time. Let’s just do it. The sooner the better. And then the deal is done. Because I am not going past that.’
She could see the triumph flare in his eyes.
‘Deal,’ he said. ‘But before we get to that I’m going to make you pizza. Then we’re going to dot every i and cross every t of this wedding and get it the hell out of our relationship. And then I’m going to take you to bed and make love to you, and draw a line under assignation number three.’
She could feel her breathing quicken, her pulse start skittering, the throbbing rush between her legs.
And then Leo, smiling, added, ‘But first I’m going to read you the haiku poem your mother sent me—which I have to say I kind of liked.’
No.
No, no, no, no!
But it didn’t seem to matter how many times she said no in her head.
Because it was there, hurting her chest, stretching her heart.
Shimmering brightly, beautifully. Overwhelming and terrifying.
She was in love with Leo Quartermaine.
* * *
It was hardly surprising that she’d fallen in love with him, Sunshine thought on her drive back to Sydney the next morning.
The best sex of her life—possibly of anyone’s life...in the whole history of mankind. Meat-lovers’ pizza. Tiramisu. The offer to scatter her sister’s ashes a stone’s throw from his house. But, really, the absolutely unfair kicker—an appreciation of her mother’s haiku poetry: evidence that he was probably seriously nuts.
The eyes are sublime
Glowing without the blackness
Liberated now
What had her mother been thinking?
And who the hell could actually like that?
And how could you not fall in love with a guy who did?
The signs were there already that this gobsmacking love was going to be an absolute misery. She’d asked Leo to text her so that she’d know he’d got home safely—and instead of telling her not to be a lunatic Leo had smiled and said, ‘Sure.’
He’d smiled! Smiled!
What was going to come next—checking him for cuts and scalds after a shift in the kitchen?
Er...no! Thank you very much.
Well, it was a new thing. Maybe it wouldn’t last. Maybe they would have their fourth assignation and then, once they’d gone their separate ways, it would fade.
Except...she was already feeling a little distraught at the idea of going their separate ways.
So, no. No time to waste.
She had to take action immediately.
Their relationship had to be reversed. They had to return to the way they’d been before she’d hugged him on the couch and started this killer snowball rolling down the mountain.
They had to be friends. Just friends. Without the depth. The way they should have been all along.
Which meant no fourth assignation.
And if she didn’t want to renege on their deal that meant...
Sigh.
One name-change, coming up.
* * *
To: Leo Quartermaine
From: Sunshine Smart
Subject: Loose ends
Hi Leo
Here is a copy of my name-change application. So no need for assignation number four.
The process apparently takes about four weeks. Please let me know when you’ve sold the bike. You will find cars are so much more convenient. Well, maybe not for parking. But think of getting around when it’s raining.
I know we’re all sorted for the wedding, which is great because I am up to the gills in handbags for the next week or so, but let’s catch up before the trial dinner.
(Allyn) Sunshine Smart
PS: I’m assuming it’s okay for me to invite a date to the trial dinner, because I owe Tony.
Leo read the note three times before it sank in.
Allyn.
She’d chosen the name-change option over more sex with him.
Well, what moron had offered her that out?
And then one fact pierced him like a nice, long, sharp lance between the eyes: he didn’t want her to change her name for any reason. She was Sunshine. Sunshine suited her. Okay, he was perhaps a little unhinged, because Sunshine wasn’t an appropriate name for any human being—only for dish-washing liquid—but it bloody well did suit her, dammit.
The second fact smacked him behind the head like one of those quintain things that swung on a pole when you hit it with your lance: maybe the sex wasn’t as good for her as it was for him.
After one appalled moment he discounted that. He recognised melt-your-socks sex when he saw it, tasted it, touched it, did it.
So did she, obviously. And it scared the crap out of her.
But to go straight from his bed to the Registry of Births, Deaths and Marriages...?
Well, sorry, but that was just an insult!
He thought back to last night.
He’d read her the haiku and she had looked like some kind of wax mannequin...but then, she’d made it obvious she wasn’t a haiku fan.
She’d rallied to argue with him over the remaining wedding preparations. Par for the course.
She’d eaten the pizza as though it were going to be her last earthly meal—no surprises there.
Dinnertime conversation had been as peculiar as usual, with Sunshine imparting strange but true facts. Leonardo Da Vinci had invented scissors—who knew?—there was a maze in England shaped like a Dalek—how cool was that?—forest fires moved faster uphill than downhill, and the crack in a breaking glass moved faster than three thousand miles per hour.
Then they’d had more amazing sex, using tiramisu in ways that would make it his favourite dessert for eternity.
And this morning she’d kissed him goodbye. On the mouth. As though she did it every day. And he’d liked that.
She’d asked him to text her when he got home. And he’d done it—happily.
So...what? Now he was supposed to accept that it was all over?
And what was the deal with let’s catch up before the trial dinner?
Was she freaking kidding him? He was not catching up with her. Unless it was to bang her brains out in assignation number four.
Did she think he didn’t know when he was being friend-zoned?
He wasn’t going to be friend-zoned by Sunshine Smart.
He was not Gary or Ben or Iain or Tony—relegated to coffee catch-ups, Facebook status updates, and being taken to dinner to check people’s hair-length.
He was not her freaking friend.
His brain felt as if it were foaming with rage.
He would email her telling her he would not be catching up with her before the trial dinner. And when he saw her at the trial dinner he would drag her aside and force her to tell him that she—
His brain stuttered to a halt there.
Tell him that she...that she...
That she...
Into his head popped a picture
of her kissing him goodbye that morning.
Asking him to text her when he got home.
That she...
That he...
Oh, my God.
All or nothing. Off the cliff. Into the abyss.
She was the one.
She would fight tooth and nail not to be, but that was what she was.
The one.
And Leo had no idea what to do about it.
* * *
It’s hemp, Jim, but not as we know it.
Leo had done a double-take the moment he’d seen Sunshine.
Hemp was not sexy.
Everyone knew that.
So why did the sight of Sunshine Smart wearing it make him want to drool?
A simple loose ankle-length column of dark bronze—and, God, he’d love to see her underwear in that colour—with two tiny straps fastened at the shoulders in untie-me-please bows. She’d left off the lipstick as well as the eye-goop and looked fresh as a sea breeze. Her hair was loose. Towering heels in gold. Gold drop earrings, straight as arrows, pointing to those mind-game bows. She also had a thick gold cuff clasped around one arm, just above the elbow. But she never wore jewellery...
Well, obviously she does sometimes, imbecile.
Yep. A hundred and fifty guests to feed, and he was pondering Sunshine’s jewellery-wearing habits. Great.
He strode over to her. ‘Sunshine.’
‘Allyn,’ she corrected.
‘Not yet, though, right? And—’ he turned to the guy who had popped up beside her like a cork in a pool ‘—you must be Tony. Let me show you to your table.’
Leo led them to their seats, introduced them to the others at their table.
And then... Well, her fringe was getting long. She’d brushed it aside—training it for the wedding, he figured—but one piece had sprung back over her forehead. He smoothed it back to where it was supposed to be.
Her gorgeous eyes widened. He heard her quick intake of breath, saw the daze in her eyes. It felt like a ‘moment’—one of those bubble-like moments where everything was right with the world.
Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle Page 54