by Anne Oliver
He grinned and shook his head. ‘Come on, Em, where’s your sense of adventure?’
‘I lost it somewhere. Really,’ she insisted, when his grin remained. If anything it broadened. ‘I think maybe I used it all up in this room,’ she finished. She stared at him, her whole body blushing at everything they’d gotten up to last night. Suddenly feeling way too naked, she sat up, pulling the sheet over her breasts. ‘Is this … us … weird?’
His grin faded, and for a long moment he didn’t answer while they watched each other. In the stretched silence she heard a service trolley lumber past the room, the clatter of dishes. Had she ever seen his eyes so dark? Something behind that gaze had her heart stumbling around inside her chest … It was supposed to be just physical. A weekend on Pleasure Island, remember?
‘You’re thinking too hard again.’ Jake reached out, smoothed her hair behind her ear. ‘I rebooked my room. I want another night with you. What do you say?’
Yes, please?
One more night. Her pulse was on a fast track up the side of that mountain. Free and irresponsible was calling her, and she wasn’t ready to go back to her boring job and busy unsociable life just yet.
‘It’ll mean a very early start tomorrow if we’re going to make it to the city in time.’
‘I’ve decided to take tomorrow off. You?’
‘Monday’s busy. I’ve got—’
‘Stay with me. Call in sick.’
‘I can’t just take a day off.’
His brows rose. ‘Why the hell not? Your sister just got married. Your boss’ll understand.’ His voice turned low and smooth and seductive. ‘If you want, I can convince him you need the day to recover.’
She frowned. How she chose to use her recreational time was one thing, her job was quite another. An income was a necessity. A one-night stand, even a two-night stand, was a luxury.
And didn’t every woman deserve a little luxury now and again?
Still … ‘I haven’t interfered in your working life, Jake. Please respect mine. And, just so you know, my boss is a woman, and it happens she’s a real soft touch when it comes to love and romance.’ She leant over and soothed his lips with hers. ‘I’ll organise it myself.’ And deal with the repercussions later.
‘Good decision.’ She felt his fingers on the back of her head, holding her still while he turned her smooch into a meltingly irresistible kiss.
‘Are you?’ he murmured against her lips a moment later.
‘Am I what?’
‘A soft touch when it comes to love and romance. You feel soft enough …’ He drifted a finger over her cheek, a bare shoulder.
She drew back, shrugged off the words and the associated emotions she didn’t want or need. Jake and love and romance were mutually exclusive. In that they were equally matched. But she couldn’t quite look him in the eye, and drew circles on the crisp pillow-case with a fingertip. ‘I don’t want the complication of either in my life.’
‘You’re a career girl.’
‘At least you can count on your career.’ Unlike counting on a man.
‘Okay, career girl. We’ll both play hooky tomorrow and then take a leisurely drive back to town.’ He sat up, swung his legs over the side of the bed and reached for his trousers on the floor. ‘I need to go back to my room, take a shower and change. Meet me downstairs for breakfast in half an hour and we’ll discuss our plans.’
‘Okay.’ She watched him pull last night’s clothes over his magnificent taut backside. The way the muscles in his shoulders bunched as he shrugged into his shirt. Biting back a sigh, she rose and picked up the terrycloth robe she’d worn the night before, which still lay on a nearby chair. She tied the sash and followed him to the door.
‘See you in a little while,’ he said, bending to kiss her before opening the door. Then Emma saw his shoulders tense as he came to an abrupt halt.
‘Jake.’
She heard her mother’s chipped ice voice and Emma’s skin flushed to the roots of her tousled bedroom hair. Shrinking into her robe, she hugged the lapels up to her chin with both hands.
‘Good morning, Bernice.’ Jake’s back was towards Emma, and if he was surprised or embarrassed his voice gave no sign. ‘Em’s about to take a shower,’ she heard him say as he sauntered out, his jacket and waistcoat slung over a shoulder. ‘You just caught her in time.’
Emma sucked in a fortifying breath. ‘Mum.’ She moved forward and pulled the door wider while she imagined slamming it shut. ‘Jake was … just leaving.’ Obviously. And he seemed to have taken her thought-processing skills with him.
Her mother stalked in, missing none of last night’s carnage strewn across the floor. ‘I came to tell you I’m driving back with Ryan’s Uncle Stan.’
Was that a flicker of excitement in her mother’s eyes? But when Emma blinked it had vanished. ‘That’s … great, Mum …’ She trailed off. What to say?
‘I wanted to make sure you’d arranged a lift, but I assume now that you’re driving back with Jake.’
Emma heard the underlying criticism loud and clear. ‘Thanks, but actually I’m staying on another night.’ Defiance streamed through her veins. ‘Make that we’re staying another night.’
Her mother had been staring at the rumpled bed but she swung to face her. ‘What about work tomorrow morning?’
‘I’m taking the day off.’
‘Have you no sense of responsibility, girl? And with a man like Jake.’ She exhaled her disapproval audibly through pinched nostrils.
‘I never take time off. As for Jake, I like him, Mum. And so does Stella.’ She hugged her arms to ward off the chill in her mother’s eyes. ‘He’s an interesting, honest, hard-working man. I make my own decisions about the men I choose to see. And my own mistakes.’
‘So you already think he’s a mistake, then?’
Maybe it was a mistake, but she’d never know if she didn’t take the risk. Jake had liberated something inside her last night and she wanted explore it, even if it was only for what was left of the weekend. ‘I want a chance to find out.’
‘Very well, then,’ her mother replied, tight-lipped. The stony expression remained as she moved to the door. ‘I’ll see you at home.’
‘Right. Drive safely.’ Emma maintained an outward calm until the door closed with chilling formality, then swung around to lean back against it and slap her palms on the smooth wood. And a big goodbye to allowing her mother to put a blot on the morning.
It was only a little risk, she told herself, gathering her discarded garments and all the loose buttons she could locate. She tossed them into her suitcase, took out her casual clothes. A relaxing day playing tourist in the Blue Mountains was just what she needed.
And tonight … Her newly energised body tightened at the thought. It was going to be fun. Just fun.
CHAPTER TEN
AFTER waving the newly married couple off on their honeymoon, Jake convinced Emma to walk to Echo Point again later that morning. The air was cold but the sun was out for now, turning the Three Sisters a stark orange against the blue-tinged foliage. A bank of clouds was building; it would rain before nightfall.
‘So Stan’s driving your mum home,’ Jake said as they gazed over the valley. Bernice finding him in Emma’s room had been an unexpected and awkward moment. ‘Did she give you a hard time?’ Neither of them had spoken of the episode over breakfast, but it needed to be said.
‘No more than usual.’ Emma spoke casually, but he saw her posture dip as she leaned on the railing as if it might prop her up. ‘I hope Stan can put her in a better mood.’
‘If anyone can cheer Bernice up, Stan’s your man.’
Hanging on to the rail with both hands, she leaned back at a crazy angle and looked at the sky. ‘You know what? I don’t want to think about her or work today.’
‘Good girl.’ He covered her hands with his. ‘Today’s for us.’
‘Sounds perfect.’ Turning to him, she tipped her face up to his, last night’s sparkle still dancing in her eye
s. She wore a faded tracksuit, scuffed sneakers and her hair was tied back into a loose coil which hung between her shoulderblades. Without make-up, her face glowed with good health except for some luscious-looking peach-coloured lipgloss.
She looked … radiant. Last night’s gymnastics had done her a world of good. ‘Let’s go.’ Keeping her hand clasped firmly in his, he headed towards a walking trail which pointed to Katoomba Falls.
Seeing the spectacular World Heritage sights with Emma, he discovered their mutual enjoyment of exploring nature on foot. She shared his interest in the environment and the native flora and fauna they came across. Ancient ferns, rainbow lorikeets. They even glimpsed an echidna fossicking in the bushland nearby.
He persuaded her to cross the valley on the Skyway with the promise of lunch at the revolving restaurant at the other end. She buried her face against his chest as they swung out into space so high that the shadow of their cabin was the size of a newborn’s thumbnail on the Jurassic forest below.
Jake couldn’t remember a day he’d enjoyed more in a long time. Simple things like sharing a can of soda while they sat on a rock with the breeze at their backs and listened to the crystal sounds of the nearby Katoomba waterfall.
He was as interested in Emma’s mind and her opinions as he was in her body. Connecting with her, seeing that rare smile and finding out what they had in common, was as much a part of the day as the hot, lingering looks they exchanged, knowing the evening ahead promised to be as special as the last.
By mid-afternoon it was becoming increasingly difficult to keep his hands off her, so they cut the sightseeing short and made a fast trip back to the hotel and his suite.
Later, surrounded by white candles in the gleaming black spa of the stunning black bathroom, with its wide uninterrupted view, they sipped bubbly and watched the constantly changing panorama. A curtain of rain filled the valley floor, a blur of dull gold with the setting sun behind as the shower moved through in brilliant contrast to the encroaching stormy black sky.
But the best view was right in front of him.
Emma’s hair was catching the sun’s last feeble rays, and the soft glow of candlelight shone on her cheeks as daylight faded.
She was facing him across a mountain of bubbles, and in those sapphire eyes, with their stars and luminosity, he could see a load had been lifted. She’d let herself go for once in her life and had a good time.
How long would it take for the pressures of real life to tarnish that glow and eclipse the sparkle? After tomorrow’s short return journey to the urban rat race it was back to business for them both.
Which made it all the more important not to waste a single second of what was left of tonight.
He took her glass, set both flutes on the side of the spa, then slid forward, knees bent, so that his legs came around hers and her belly came into contact with his. Put his hands on her shoulders so he could look right into those eyes. ‘You’re a pleasure to be with, Emma Byrne.’
Emma stared into his warm brown eyes. She was going to pay for that pleasure sooner or later. This weekend had been one amazing adventure after another, one she’d remember for ever.
‘Hey, that’s supposed to make you smile, not frown.’
‘I’m not fr—’
‘You are. You get that little line between your eyebrows …’ He smoothed it away with a fingertip. ‘Okay, I’ve got something guaranteed to make you smile.’ His deep voice rumbled between them and he pressed closer, his burgeoning hardness hot and impatient against her belly.
‘Mmm …’
‘See? Smiling already.’ He nipped his way up the side of her neck to the sensitive spot beneath her ear. ‘How am I doing?’ Tugged her earlobe between his lips, making her tingle.
‘Pretty well.’ His hands were a slippery delight on her shoulders.
‘Only pretty well?’
She closed her eyes the better to savour it. Him. ‘You can do better.’
A slow hand cruised down to her left breast to toy with her nipple. ‘How about this?’ He moved his mouth over hers and murmured, ‘Is this good?’
‘Mmm. Good.’ Very good. She sighed and her lips opened under his probing tongue. It wasn’t only his fabulously sexy body and his skill as a lover, it was their easy rapport, their shared interests.
Or was it something deeper?
Before she could ponder or react to that significant and scary thought he surged forward, his hands on either side of her face, his dark eyes holding hers. Slowly, slowly, he pushed that glorious hardness inside her. Slow and slippery and … oh, he was persuasive. Addictive.
‘Tell me it’s the best you ever had,’ he demanded against her lips, withdrawing inch by excruciatingly exquisite inch, leaving her breathless and arching her hips in anticipation.
‘Ha!’ she managed. ‘Isn’t that what you guys all want to know?’
‘Tell me you want more.’ He leaned back just enough for her to see the wicked glint in his eyes and withdrew.
‘Yes,’ she moaned. ‘More.’ And moaned again as he pushed inside her, faster now, on a wild ride to paradise.
‘Come with me.’ His words sounded harsh and ragged against her ear as he came deep inside her.
‘Coming,’ she gasped as she rode over the edge of the velvet chasm with him.
Jake had chosen the room for its awesome view and the gas fire. The flames that licked over attractive smooth river stones provided warmth and intimacy. They sat in matching hotel robes on the rug in the flickering glow and shared the cold lobster and mango salad Room Service had delivered earlier.
He watched Emma slip a slice of mango between her lips. Tousled damp hair framed her face. Her eyes reflected the fire’s orange glow, turning them violet and mysterious.
He wanted to know more of her secrets. More about the product line she’d developed and why she was so passionate about it that she’d spend so much of her free time immersed in it and yet not pursue its potential further.
Was it a front to hide behind? Was she lonely or a natural loner? Was she a risk-taker or not?
She was different to the women he usually got involved with. So different from the synthetic types to be found in King’s Cross. Emma was sparkly and refreshing, a glint of dew on spring grass on a sunny morning. Her body was slender, firm, natural. Curves in all the right places and they were all real.
‘Taste.’ She swirled a sliver of lobster into the buttery sauce and held it to his lips. ‘It’s divine.’
He opened his mouth and let her feed him. Chewed a moment, savouring the flavour, the slight pressure of her finger against his lips.
The room’s muted glow cast intimate shadows. ‘Nothing beats romance, huh?’
She wiped her fingers on her napkin, her movements a little jerky. Her eyes were still on his but rather than the dreamy violet from moments ago they were quicksilver-black. ‘I don’t do romance.’
The flat comment surprised him. ‘No?’ He waved an all-encompassing hand around the room—the flickering firelight on the walls, its warmth against his skin. ‘What do you call this? The candlelit spa we just enjoyed?’
‘Ambience.’
‘So define romance.’
‘Hearts and flowers and pretty words.’ Silver sliced through her gaze, a knife’s glint against ebony. ‘I don’t need them and I don’t want them.’
‘Why not?’ He saw the pain in her eyes before she looked away. ‘Surfer Boy wasn’t the romantic type?’
She shrugged. ‘That’s just it. He was. Something special every Friday night and a dozen red roses every Wednesday, with a pretty note to say he was thinking of me …’
Her story didn’t make sense to Jake. ‘You weren’t being totally honest with me about him the night of the dinner, were you?’
‘Just because I don’t want rom—’
‘It’s in your eyes. That’s why you’re not looking at me.’
‘I’m …’ Her shoulders drooped. ‘Okay. I didn’t slot him into my schedule. He s
lotted me into his. And I let him. Because, you see, I was stupidly in love with him.’
Jake reached out, trailed a finger down her cheek. ‘He’s even more of an idiot than I thought,’ he murmured.
She shook her head. ‘Romance is a lie to cover a lie.’
‘It doesn’t have to be, Emma.’
‘No romance, okay? No lies.’
‘Okay …’ He pressed her down and rolled her onto her back on the rug, unknotting her belt and spreading her robe wide. ‘Does that mean I can’t tell you you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever made love to by firelight?’
She reached for his robe, pushing it away, fingers stretching and flexing over his shoulders, her eyes duelling with his, a smile on her lips and that little dimple in her cheek winking as he lowered himself on top of her. ‘I’m okay with that.’
They had a late checkout on Monday morning so they spent it in bed and then enjoyed a quick lunch in a charming little rustic café before returning to Sydney. Emma had phoned in sick to work—something she’d never done before.
On the trip back she was almost tempted to open her laptop which Jake had returned to her, and catch up on the orders she’d neglected. But she knew she’d not be able to concentrate. Her mind was chock-full of distracting thoughts. So she watched the scenery flash by, and with it the slow return from fairytales and magical rides—of any kind—to civilisation and real life.
Real life. Depressing thought. Closing her eyes, she feigned sleep as they reached outer suburbia and let her mind drift back over the past two days.
She heard Jake speak on his mobile with his PA about some problem with a client that couldn’t wait, enjoying the deep, authoritative timbre in his voice, remembering how it sounded when he came deep inside her.
Emma’s phone signalled an incoming text. She considered ignoring it, but her responsible self wouldn’t allow her to. She opened it and stared at the message. ‘I don’t believe it,’ she murmured.
Jake glanced her way. ‘Something wrong?’
‘Mum’s gone to Melbourne. With Stan.’
‘Good for her.’ Jake’s voice was laced with a smile.