by Kris Pearson
Before long, he swung the agile car in between two rough-plastered gateposts and braked. She blew out a big breath of surprise and delight, and maybe relief that the twisting drive had ended.
“What a place to live!”
“You feel like you’re hanging-gliding or parachuting over the water—yes?”
The house dropped down on several levels, and each had a deck or balcony that projected over the tumbling hillside garden below, but the huge water view eclipsed everything else.
“Exactly,” she agreed, stepping out onto the paved parking area, and hoping her jeans and red top looked respectable enough for such a classy place.
The house door swung open and a knee-high black poodle cannoned out, barking frantically. The dog headed straight for Alex, and danced around him in dizzy circles.
“Anouska,” a woman’s voice exclaimed. And then with more force, “Anouska! Venez ici!”
Anouska took not the slightest notice, and Kerri laughed as Alex scooped the wriggling animal up in his arms.
“The watch-dog,” he said. “Not very fierce, but good at noise.”
A slim silver-haired woman bustled up to them and planted kisses on Alex’s cheeks, totally ignoring the little dog in his arms. “Alex—so good to see you. And...?” she turned bright eyes in Kerri’s direction.
“And Kerri,” Alex said. “Kerri, this is Mathilde.”
Mathilde repeated her kisses, and then linked an arm through Kerri’s and drew her into the house. “We are so glad you could come,” she said in careful, heavily-accented English.
“It’s lovely of you to invite me.”
“Alex is a dear friend for many years.”
She smiled and nodded, relieved to find Mathilde also wore jeans—but with an exquisite lacy-collared blouse and a delicate antique moonstone pendant at her neck.
“You have a beautiful house,” Kerri said. It was so obviously French; furniture that looked old and treasured, gently faded fabrics, paintings and lamps and photos and flowers crowded together to stunning effect.
“Merci. But I have too many treasures,” Mathilde replied. “So Alain tells me often.”
“Where is he?” Alex asked her, setting Anouska down on the polished floor. The little dog’s claws clicked as she pattered around sniffing everyone’s legs.
“He has gone to buy the bread,” Mathilde said, releasing Kerri’s arm.
“We could have done that and brought it up to you,” Alex remonstrated. “Why didn’t you ask?”
“Alain is happy—it’s another excuse to call in at work and do more.”
“Busy enough to work on Sunday? He needs to slow down.”
Mathilde rolled her eyes at Kerri and led them through to a sheltered conservatory where plants grew in luxurious profusion. “This is the pot calling the kettle black, I think? Do I say it that way?”
Kerri laughed. “Exactly. And I bet you’re right about Alex working too hard as well. He sounds as though he never stops.”
“C’est vrai. These men...” She heaved a dramatic sigh and motioned them to sit in the deeply cushioned rattan chairs.
“And you never work at all?” Alex teased. “How’s the boutique doing?”
“C’est bon. C’est grand en fait.” She turned back to Kerri. “You like lingerie? What woman doesn’t? I sell such beautiful things that it feels I don’t work at all.”
“I should bring Kerri in tomorrow. You’ve had no treats yet, have you?” he asked, turning to her.
Kerri’s heart started to hammer as guilt swamped her yet again. “I’ve had you, and the sunset cruise, and that wonderful dinner,” she said, avoiding his eyes. “That’s enough for me.” Her ‘treat’ money had disappeared into the hungry slot-machines at the casino—along with Sarah’s—and so far she’d not had to admit her stupidity. Suddenly here it was haunting her again.
“I could open up just for you this afternoon,” Mathilde suggested. “A private showing?”
“Absolutely not,” Kerri insisted. “You say your husband shouldn’t work on Sundays, and here you are offering to do the same.”
Please, please, please don’t show me up and spoil everything.
“Tomorrow then,” Alex agreed, and Kerri sighed with relief. Somehow she’d have to talk him out of it when morning rolled around. Bedroom diversions floated across her brain. Surely he’d be happy to play?
“What else will you do?” Mathilde asked. “You could take ‘Le Betico’ over to The Isle of Pines? It’s so fast these days.”
“The high-speed catamaran,” Alex inserted.
“Oui. And have you visited the big new Tjibarou Cultural Centre? There’s Pacific contemporary art, and historical displays too.”
“Those amazing tall silvery pavilions? Alex pointed them out when we were driving yesterday, but we haven’t been inside yet.”
“Other things on our mind,” Alex said, and Kerri pressed her lips together to stifle her cheeky reply.
“Oh to be so young,” Mathilde said with a wry smile, bright eyes missing nothing.
Anouska gave a sharp ‘yip’ and skittered out towards the entrance.
“Alain—hopefully with the baguettes,” Mathilde said, rising and trailing the frisky little poodle to the door.
“To go with the wine I brought you, which I’ve left in the car, thanks to Anouska’s enthusiastic welcome,” Alex added as he followed.
Kerri heard more barking, rapid French as the men greeted each other, and then the door closing.
“So—we’re all here,” Alain said as he entered the conservatory, arm around Alex’s shoulders. He inspected Kerri with sharp brown eyes set in a busy network of wrinkles.
She couldn’t stifle her grin. He looked exactly as she’d first imagined Alex—a sprightly sixty-plus with a fringe of salt-and-pepper hair around his shiny scalp, and a white mustache of magnificent proportions.
“That was wonderful,” Kerri said as they glided down the steep roads back towards the hotel. Several hours had drifted by. The food had been delicious, the conversation lively, and she’d enjoyed herself immensely. “I’m surprised your friends aren’t closer to you in age?”
“Old enough to be my parents. A shame I didn’t have such luck.”
She heard the regret in his voice. “Me too,” she agreed, thinking of her far-away mother and unemotional stepfather. “Mom and Dad used to argue a lot—about money I think. I sort of didn’t notice at the time, but I remember, looking back...” She shook her head slightly. “These days—well, she emails now and again, never about anything that matters, and Edward almost doesn’t exist.”
“But for now at least we have each other.”
“I think we should have each other again very soon,” Kerri suggested, reaching out for his hand and tucking it between her thighs.
Alex smiled and drew his hand away. “I’ll need that for steering a little longer, but once we’re back at the hotel it’s all yours.”
She felt the sudden irrational prickle of tears, turned away from him, and squeezed her eyes closed.
He’d said, ‘For now, we have each other.’
Only for now, though. One more night and that’s the end.
She swallowed against the painful lump in her throat, and when she could safely speak again, said, “I want every piece of you. I want you slowly. I want to remember this weekend for the rest of my life, Alex.”
Without warning, he swerved onto a bus-stop and slammed the brakes on. “You’ll remember,” he said, snapping his seatbelt undone and leaning over her. His expression was intense, and he lowered his mouth onto hers with such hunger that Kerri had no doubt he’d be delivering on his promise.
They stepped into the elevator in the basement car-park only to find they were not alone. Two confused-looking Japanese men in matching polo shirts had apparently pressed the wrong button for the ground floor. Alex cursed silently, slid a hand down inside Kerri’s waistband, and caressed one peachy buttock as the doors closed and they rose upwar
ds. Her indrawn breath and the slight parting of her legs were small compensation for what he’d really wanted to do, but he had to content himself with stroking her silky skin until they were alone.
With a ‘ding’, the doors parted at lobby level. The Japanese men stepped out. Three lively children crowded in, followed by harassed-looking parents who spoke a language Alex didn’t recognize. One little boy burrowed in behind Kerri. Alex removed his hand.
They rose again. The doors opened and the family left. He cupped Kerri’s face in both hands and kissed her. A loud thump and a shake announced they had more company. He growled with frustration as a member of the housekeeping staff maneuvered her heavily laden trolley in beside them.
She nodded, sent them a small polite smile, and pressed the button for the next floor.
The bell dinged. The doors parted. Alex helped the uniformed girl to get the trolley moving backwards, but his too-strong push dislodged a small shower of soaps and toiletries. He caught Kerri’s eye and sighed. They all bent together in the small space to gather up the bottles and boxes, and the elevator announced its displeasure at being kept so long on one floor.
Kerri started to giggle.
With the trolley reloaded and removed, the doors began to slide together. He and Kerri did the same, only to hear the doors slide open again so an elderly lady could step aboard. They sprang apart, and she sent them a disapproving glare.
Finally, finally they reached their own floor—to find the door to their room wedged open and another housekeeping trolley parked just inside.
“Having a nice day?” the smiling house-maid enquired.
“Wonderful!” Kerri said, unable to stifle her snort of hilarity.
“Finished in the bathroom?” Alex asked.
The maid nodded.
“We’ll be in there then,” he said, dragging Kerri in after him and locking the door.
“We can’t do it here,” she gasped. Around them the tiles gleamed, fresh towels hung straight as soldiers, and there was so much pine-fragrance in the air that the tropics had disappeared and snow seemed a real possibility.
“Watch me!”
“Not with her right there.”
“She’ll be gone by the time I’ve finished with you.”
He took her by the elbows and backed her against the wall, eyes holding hers, lips quirking at her wonderful combination of discomfort and desire. She might be protesting, but her nipples were so hard they stretched the soft fabric of her otherwise decent red top, and her eyes snapped black with invitation. An invitation he intended taking full advantage of.
“Undo your jeans.”
“No.”
He pressed his lips together in an effort to look stern, and undid them himself, dropping to his knees so he could pull the denim right to the floor. He pushed them off with her shoes, and swept them aside, then sat back on his heels and admired. Her slim waist curved out to feminine hips traversed by only the tiniest strand of elastic attached to a miniscule triangle of pale green satin edged with lace and centered with a spot of moisture.
He smiled and placed his finger on the telltale patch.
“You know what happens, Kerri, when my finger is here?”
“No!”
He moved his fingertip in a small circle, caressing the nub of her aroused clitoris through the thin fabric.
“No?” he murmured, rubbing gently. “Not nice enough to please you?”
His thumbs slid under the elastic of her thong and drew it down.
“No...” she groaned.
“You asked for something to remember me by?”
“But not...with her...right there...”
She drew a sharp breath and released it in a long slow sigh as his tongue made contact.
His lips curved against her, and he pulled back a fraction. “So my tongue does a better job than my finger?” he suggested, looking up at her thrilled and horrified face.
“Alex...”
He settled his hands on her hips and pressed tiny kisses on her smooth belly, dropping closer and closer to where he knew she really wanted him.
“Alex... Oh God...”
He smiled again. Circled the tip of his tongue repeatedly in a soothing glide, then plunged deep.
She jerked, and hissed out a most indecent word.
He withdrew his tongue. “Shhh...don’t make the poor girl jealous.” He glanced up to Kerri’s flushed face.
“I’m trying to keep quiet,” she grated.
He grinned at her wild-eyed expression.
“Not doing a good enough job, cherie. She’ll hear you, for sure.”
“No...”
“Hmmm?” he murmured, settling his hands more firmly onto her hips and his lips around her clitoris again. He sucked. She jumped. He held her prisoner and set a slow teasing rhythm, loving her muffled gasps and the way she tried to wriggle away from him. She rose slowly on tiptoe and he followed her up, never losing contact.
Kerri groaned and thrashed, and Alex briefly removed one hand to adjust himself inside his pants before he burst the zipper apart.
He heard a muffled rattle from the trolley, then a more solid thud as the room to their door latched shut.
And Kerri grabbed his hair and hung on for the ride as she shook and clenched in climax, moaning his name over and over again.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Alex knelt up, pulled her close, and buried his face between her breasts.
This was getting out of hand. Way out of hand.
Kerri had some weird hold over him.
He’d never taken chances with any woman like he’d done with her in his GANZ office.
Never indulged in sex after walking right past a total stranger as though he was a marauding cave-man dragging his woman by the hair.
Had the housemaid heard? God, he hoped not! He’d leave her a generous tip, in case.
Kerri’s heart thumped and thudded under his ear. Her fingers combed through his hair much more tenderly than they had just moments earlier.
He wanted her, burned for her. Couldn’t get close enough to her. He’d never before taken a girl to meet Alain and Mathilde. And, despite their language differences and her devil-may-care attitude to life when theirs was a great deal more circumspect, she’d fitted right in.
But he knew she was dangerous enough to derail his life, so it was just as well he was leaving her tomorrow and putting thousands of miles of land and sea between them.
Why did that thought not bring a wave of profound relief to him?
He realized with a sickening shock he was half-way hooked. This simply couldn’t be happening.
Not with a Kiwi.
Not with a gambler.
Not with someone who would repeat all his mother’s mistakes and reduce his carefully created security to chaos again.
One more day. I can manage one more day.
He’d start by messing up that newly–made bed, taking all the time he needed to make it good for them both.
Then they’d have a late supper somewhere. Hopefully he could convince her into that knockout red tiger-striped dress again. It had felt fantastic last night knowing every man in the place wanted to swap places with him.
And then he’d convince her out of it, once they’d enjoyed some music or dancing.
Tomorrow they’d pack their bags, do a little more sightseeing, and it would be goodbye forever.
He could do it. He had to.
After an indulgent breakfast, they found a tiny idyllic deserted beach. The vast lagoon glittered and shimmered as they embraced in the clear water.
Kerri sighed. It was so nearly over.
“Did you enjoy it here with me?” he murmured. “It’s a long trip home for you. Was it worth it?”
“You know it was,” she whispered, nibbling his salty neck and shoulder. “It’s a longer trip home for you too.”
“That’s the way my life is.”
“Do you wish it wasn’t?”
“I have what I wanted...
what I worked for.”
“That’s okay then,” she said, sinking below the surface so she could hide her face from him.
She snagged one of his ankles and he toppled over in an explosion of bubbles and foam, and grabbed her in return. When they burst, breathless, to the surface again, her impending tears were hidden by the streams of sea-water that ran down from her hair.
They returned to bustling Anse Vata for lunch.
She sat toying with her quiche, far from hungry. Her conscience gnawed at her. Her tummy felt queasy.
She took a deep breath for courage. Oh what would it matter—she might as well tell him! It was the only way she’d be able to keep faith with Sarah—and she hoped Alex wouldn’t be so very angry with her when they had so few hours left together.
She cleared her throat and fixed him with hopeful eyes.
“Alex, could you possibly loan me some cash?”
He blinked with slight surprise.
“Oui cherie—I could. May I know what for?”
“I want to buy Sarah some duty-free perfume on the plane. She gave me the money for it, and I lost it.”
“You lost your wallet? You should have said.” He was on his feet in an instant. “I’ll report it. You still have your passport?”
Kerri half-rose as well, dragged on his hand and hissed “Sit down Alex, of course I do!” She swallowed, choking on the words she knew she had to say. “I lost it on the slots at the casino,” she muttered. “That’s where I went on Saturday while you were out. That’s why I was looking so po-faced when I came back.”
He stared at her, eyes brilliant and accusing under drawn-down black brows, lips compressed as though to hold in his furious response.
“And that’s why you bought yourself no pretty treats from the boutiques here?” he finally asked.
She nodded, and looked down in shame.
“And wouldn’t let me buy you anything either? As punishment, I suppose? How much?”
“None of your business.”
“How much, Kerri.”
“Not much by your standards. Too much by mine. But I’ll get by.”