‘You do?’ Encrusted mud dislodged as she raised her eyebrows.
‘Yes, Liv, I do. Bit of an open secret.’
Adam’s velvet growl smoothed over her skin.
‘I thought—’ Olivia broke off.
‘You thought what?’
‘That we were past that. Especially after the other night.’
Adam frowned. ‘What happened the other night?’
‘Well, I fell asleep in all my clothes and probably snored the night away, the following morning I looked like a cross between a bird’s nest and something the cat dragged in, and since then—well, we’ve shared a house.’
‘And sharing a house kills attraction?’ He dropped his mouth in mock horror. ‘It’s because you’ve seen me wielding a dustpan and brush, isn’t it? My macho image is gone for ever.’
Her lips tipped up in a smile. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s me. The last few days I’ve wandered the house in scruffy pyjamas before I’ve even brushed my hair. And who knows what I look like now?’
Adam tilted his headlamp and studied her. ‘Well, you have clay streaking your cheekbones like some sort of warrior markings and mud smudged across the freckles on your nose.’
‘Great! I rest my case. You can’t possibly want me looking like this.’
‘You don’t get it, do you?’ He gestured at the air between them. ‘This spark we have—it doesn’t get cancelled out by tangled hair or rabbit pyjamas or mud. Trust me.’
Those damn words again, echoing round the walls as though the cave itself could pick which words to resonate. Trust. She didn’t do trust; it wasn’t in her make-up or her inclination.
Yet here and now, in this unspoiled place, it was difficult to see anything wrong with a primal, natural desire to mate. Adam wanted her and, boy, did she ever want him. Yet...
‘We just have to ignore it. Stay in control,’ she said, and her words disappeared into the dark currents of air, not deemed worthy of the smallest echo.
* * *
Olivia was right. Yet somehow her words didn’t tie in with what her whole being was trying to tell him. It seemed clear to Adam that her brain was vying with her body and hanging on by a sliver of fingernail. Perhaps they were both being enchanted by the spirits of the cave? Eternal beings who had lived here for aeons and would be here for centuries more.
OK.
Something was messing with his head.
It was time to take control and regain perspective.
Adam understood exactly why he needed to keep the spark between them under control, but it occurred to him that he didn’t know why Olivia had pulled back.
He moved towards her, stepping firmly on the slippery rock face.
‘Why?’ he asked softly. ‘Why is it so important to you to not lose control?’
Another step and he was close enough that if she slipped he’d catch her. So near that her scent—loam, clay and that all-elusive apple—taunted him.
‘Tell me, Liv.’ Trust me.
Adam held his breath, lungs aching, not wanting to damage this moment as she hesitated, her teeth caught around her lower lip.
‘I won’t lose control,’ she said. ‘Because attraction is all a power game. Two people angling for what they want. Be it sex, money, or the upper hand.’
‘You’re assuming they are adversaries,’ he said gently. ‘It doesn’t have to be that way.’ Something must have happened to make her believe this. ‘Did someone hurt you, Olivia? Cheat on you?’ His mind scanned for possibilities as he pieced together the fragments she had let fall. ‘Someone with money?’ The thought of some scumbag breaking her heart and throwing her aside for a newer model balled his fists.
‘No.’ She shifted her weight and he placed a hand on her arm to steady her, saw indecision pool in her hazel eyes as if in internal debate about confiding in him.
‘Why don’t we sit down?’ he suggested, and led her over the floor towards the corner of the cavern. ‘I used to call this The Ledge.’ He slipped his rucksack off his shoulder and unzipped it. ‘It’s where I used to sit and study the stalactites in the hope of achieving hallucinogenic effects.’ Rummaging in the bag, he pulled out a waterproof sheet, shook it out and spread it on the ledge. ‘Sit down and try it, if you like.’
Olivia sank down lithely and he followed suit, careful to sit close but without touching her. For a long moment she stared at the bulging mass of stalagmites, before clasping her hands on her lap and drawing in an audible breath.
‘No one hurt me. But my mum—that’s a different story.’ Hazel eyes met his, clouded with a sadness that twisted his chest. ‘When she was fourteen she was raped. By a so-called family friend. She never dared tell anyone.’
Revulsion wrenched Adam’s chest, encased his body in steel-cold anger. ‘I’m sorry, Olivia.’
‘Her life fell apart; she turned into the quintessential rebel. When she was sixteen she met my dad and fell pregnant with me.’
Adam shifted closer to her and took her hand gently in his, and with a small sigh she folded her fingers around his.
‘Mum had no qualifications, no family support, but she did have looks and she decided to use them. On her terms. Over the years she had affairs, mostly with rich, married men—men who enjoyed having a gorgeous trophy mistress. That’s how we lived.’ Her voice caught as she looked at him. ‘I vowed that I would not let that happen to me. That I would never depend on anyone for money and I would never let lust control me.’ A small shiver ran through her body.
So much made sense now and his heart ached. With Jodie as a tragic example, no wonder Olivia had such mixed feelings about her beauty, about control and power.
Olivia gave a small sniff and pushed away from his chest, swiped her palm across her eyes. ‘I shouldn’t have told you any of that. It’s not fair on Mum.’ Her hands clenched into fists. ‘I know it looks bad, but I promise she did not target your father. I know that, Adam.’
Surprise reared in the hindmost part of his brain, his body stiffening. It hadn’t so much as occurred to him to question Olivia’s story; it was impossible to suspect that the woman he’d got to know was anything but legitimate.
‘It’s OK, Liv. I believe you,’ he said. And should her faith in Jodie prove to be misplaced—because after all they were all human, and old habits died hard—then Adam would not judge Olivia.
In all honesty it wasn’t Jodie he was concerned about now—it was Olivia. Because, however cheesy it sounded, this had gone beyond lust; he might not do love or happy-ever-after, but he wanted to show her that sex could be a beautiful act between two people. That was well within his remit. They only had one night left. No harm could come of one night.
‘I want you to think about something,’ he said. ‘Zeb arrives tomorrow. What happens after that is out of our control. But until then it’s up to you, Olivia. If you want to explore this spark more then we can.’
She stared at him, hazel eyes wide. ‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why have you changed your mind?’
‘Because I want to show you that you are a beautiful, desirable woman and that there is nothing wrong with that. I want to show you that losing control can be liberating.’
She shivered and desire flared in her eyes. Adam clenched his hand on his thigh. Because no matter how much he craved to kiss her, taste her, plunder her lush mouth until she felt nothing but burning arousal, this was her choice.
‘Think about it,’ he said, forcing his tone to remain light, as if his entire body wasn’t seized with need. ‘For one day only, I am on offer.’
A small huff of laughter emerged from her lips. ‘Are you asking me to step on your conveyor belt for a one-night ride, Masterson?’
‘Hell, yes, I am. And it’ll be a ride to remember.’
TWELVE
Adam stood on the villa’s balcony and stared o
ut at the glow of the evening sunlight, at the sky streaked with spears of vivid orange as the sun began its glorious descent.
He turned. ‘Liv,’ he called. ‘You’re missing the sunset.’
And she loved the sunsets, would gaze mesmerised each evening as if she were etching every colour, every nuance, on the easel of her memory.
‘Adam?’
The soft husk of her voice pulled him to the present and he turned away from the pink slivers of disappearing sun.
‘Liv... You look—’ He broke off and tilted his hands palms-up in the air. ‘There are no words.’
The vibrant orange dress she wore was reminiscent of the sunset itself. Its simple off-the-shoulder style bared her sun-kissed skin then cleaved low to reveal the tantalising top of her firm breasts. The clinging material accentuated the slender span of her waist, then dipped to midthigh.
Adam leant against the railings, arms spread, fingers gripping the iron in an attempt to prevent himself from moving forward. His eyes skimmed down the lissom length of her legs, over the toned calves and down to the bejewelled flip-flops that glittered in the rays of the setting sun.
She smiled, her eyes holding a feminine appreciation of his all too evident male approval. ‘I thought we could go out for dinner tonight,’ she said. ‘On me. I know you can afford a thousand meals, but tonight...it’s important to me that I pay.’
‘Then I accept, with thanks,’ Adam replied, his gaze riveted to her expression. His gut churned in anticipation. Every instinct was telling him that this was it. Olivia had made her decision and tonight would culminate in making all his and her fantasies reality.
Her skin was a touch pale, her oval face framed by the magnificent cascade of strawberry tresses. She wore minimal make-up, so far as he could tell, but her eyelids shimmered and her gorgeous lips were glossy. This was Olivia dressed to kill—and, yes, he was dying over here.
‘Where are we going?’ he asked, and almost laughed at the deeper meaning under the simple question.
An answering gleam lit her eyes. ‘I booked us into Snapper Fish,’ she said. ‘After that we’ll come home.’
And so to bed—or so he hoped. ‘Sounds good to me,’ he agreed. His gaze lingered on the dress as his brain whirred. ‘So that’s where you went when we came back? Shopping?’
Olivia nodded. ‘I wanted a new dress for the evening. To mark the occasion,’ she added with a siren smile.
It was the kind of smile that had his heart threatening to escape his ribcage, the tilt of her glossy lips teasing him.
‘Shall we go?’ she asked.
Adam nodded; Olivia had a plan and he needed to go along with it. Her choice. Ruining her timetable of seduction—and every atom of his body prayed that he was reading the schedule right—by turning Neanderthal, throwing her over his shoulder and storming to the bedroom, was not an option.
They left the villa and walked in easy silence in the fragrant Ko Lantan dusk. The sweet frangipani-scented air enveloped them, somehow merging with Olivia’s underlying apple scent to send his head awhirl.
The gaily lit restaurant rose out of the dusk and they followed a waiter onto the covered decking to a secluded teak table. Amber and orange paper lanterns slanted light onto the array of floating candles that ornamented the gleaming wood.
‘Good evening, Olivia. Your champagne is on ice, as requested.’
Olivia nodded. ‘Thank you, Kamon.’ She turned to Adam and smiled. ‘Thought it would be safer than beer! I promise not to disgrace myself. And I hope it’s OK with you but I ordered our meal, as well. May as well put all my research to good use.’ She pressed her lips together in a small smile. ‘Sorry. I’m talking too much.’
‘I don’t mind,’ he said. ‘I like to hear you talk.’
Dark eyebrows rose as she slid along the wooden bench. ‘You do? I kind of thought my chatter would have driven you nuts by now.’
‘Well, you thought wrong.’ The sound of her voice, her sheer enthusiasm and interest in myriad subjects, captivated him. The only thing that might well send him loop-the-loop would be frustrated desire. If he were reading her body language all wrong and the evening should culminate in another night alone. But it was Olivia’s choice; that was the deal they had made and he’d honour it. Even at the cost of his sanity, she had to come to him without regret.
Olivia reached out to the garland of flowers that had been draped round the edge of the table and smiled.
‘I found out some facts about frangipani,’ Olivia said. ‘Did you know that in different countries they represent different things? Here in Thailand they were once taboo, because they were thought to bring sorrow. But now they are seen as special and worthy of offering to Buddha. In Vietnam ghosts were thought to live in frangipani trees, and in India the flower means loyalty.’ She rubbed her finger against the petals; the innocent sensuality of the movement constricted his lungs. ‘This must have been Kamon’s idea,’ she said. ‘I told him I wanted the dinner to be special.’
Hope and a whole lot more reared its head. ‘Any particular reason?’ he asked.
Before she could answer, Kamon arrived with a bottle of champagne, two long-stemmed champagne flutes, and an aromatic platter of shrimp tempura. He was followed by another waiter with a further selection of dishes.
The time it took to open the bottle, pour out the fizzing liquid and exchange pleasantries was excruciatingly long. Adam clenched his hands into fists—the only way to stop himself from grabbing the bottle and plate from the obviously besotted Kamon and booting him on his way.
Eventually, after assuring Olivia that everything had been freshly prepared, Kamon wended his way back into the restaurant’s interior. Where Adam devoutly hoped he’d stay.
‘You didn’t hear a word of that, did you?’ Olivia asked, a lilt of laughter in her voice.
‘Nope.’
‘Well, in that case, as penance you’ll have to listen to me tell you all about each dish. In detail.’
There was that smile again; pure seduction, it seemed to have a direct line to his pants.
‘That’s not a problem,’ he said. Not if she was going to keep talking with that husk in her voice.
‘OK. We have crabmeat and prawn spring rolls with the house special tamarind sauce. Herb-marinated stuffed chicken wings with fragrant lemongrass. Grilled aromatic beef wrapped in betelnut leaves. And lastly honey-marinated duck breast fried in pandan leaf.’
She leant forward in a deliberate movement and Adam nearly bit his tongue.
‘Delicious,’ he murmured, his eyes fixed without shame on the tops of her firm breasts.
‘Then tuck in,’ she said.
‘I hope to,’ he returned, and grinned at the shiver that goosebumped her skin as she hurriedly started to serve herself.
Adam followed suit. It felt good to eat in silence for a while and let the endless possibilities of the night ahead roam free in his brain.
It was only when Olivia gave the characteristic little huff that signified that she was ready to break from eating that he lifted his glass. ‘To the rest of our holiday,’ he toasted.
Without hesitation she clinked her champagne flute against his, her face glowing in the dappled moonlight just as the overhead lanterns went out.
‘Ooh! That means it’s time for the fire-dancing,’ she said.
For a second Adam wished the dancers would disappear to the Outer Hebrides—before guilt zapped him. Olivia should have a chance to see the truly spectacular performance; this was their last night here.
He sipped his drink, the ice cold bubbles focusing him. This night was exactly as it should be. One magical night. And if he had his way the magic would continue straight into the bedroom. He glanced at Olivia, saw the small telltale crease on her forehead, and his gut wrenched at the thought that she might not have made her f
inal decision.
‘Oh!’ Olivia drew in audible breath as the dancing started. ‘How do they do that?’ she breathed.
The two young Thai men, bare-chested, spun and dipped, twisted and swirled through the shadows of the night. The fire-tipped sticks created incredible patterns that lit up the air with eddies of orange; spirals of flame surrounded each dancer. Olivia gave a small cry and reached out across the table to grab Adam’s hand; the heat of her touch on his skin rivalled the blaze of the dance.
‘That was incredible,’ Olivia breathed.
‘They’re moving farther down the beach,’ Adam said levelly. ‘We can go down later and see some more if you like?’
She shook her head, strawberry tresses ruffling round her oval face, releasing the scent of freshly washed hair to tantalise him.
‘Crunch time,’ she said, letting go of his hand and curling her fingers round the stem of her champagne glass.
Anticipation grapple-hooked his chest, caused his heart to hammer his ribcage.
‘I’ve been thinking about what you said in the cave,’ she said. ‘About you being on offer for the night.’ A small, nervous laugh escaped her lips. ‘I’ve made you sound like a BOGOF supermarket deal.’
Adam tipped his hands upward. ‘That doesn’t sound like the impression I’m aiming for.’ Keep it light. Unease prickled his skin at how important Olivia’s decision was to him. It was a night. Important? Yes. Crucial to his entire well-being? No. Though it was fast becoming more and more critical to a rapidly growing part of his anatomy.
A welcome smile touched her lips even as she rolled her eyes. ‘I was forgetting that you are above the echelons of those needing to shop for bargains. BOGOF means buy one, get one free.’
Adam grinned. ‘There’s only one of me, honey.’
‘Don’t I know it? Which is why I’ve decided to climb on that conveyor belt for the night.’
Relief washed over him in a warm wave even as he strove to remember the rules of the game. ‘Welcome aboard.’ He sucked in much needed air. ‘But remember one thing, Liv. You’re unique. Not interchangeable. This night is about us. OK?’
Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle Page 71