One Night in Paradise

by Maisey Yates

  Still, even with her legs covered, there was that bright, gorgeous smile that had been plastered on her face since they’d arrived. She was all breathy sighs and sounds of pleasure over the sights and sounds. It was the sweetest torture.

  “Incredible,” she breathed, her voice soft, sensual in a way. Enough to make his body ache.

  “Yes,” he agreed. Mostly, he was looking at her, and not the immense, gold-laden temple.

  He forced himself to look away from Clara. To keep his focus on the gilded statues, the bright, fragrant offerings of flowers, fresh fruit and cakes left in front of the different alters that were placed throughout the courtyard. A large, dome-shaped building covered entirely in gold reflected the sun, the air bright, thick with smoke from burning incense.

  Monks in bright orange robes wove through the crowds, talking, laughing, offering blessing.

  It was incredible. And still nowhere near as interesting as the woman next to him.

  “Have you been enjoying yourself here?” he asked.

  “More or less,” she said, looking at him from the corner of her eye, color creeping into her cheeks. Probably not the smartest question to ask. Why was he struggling with his words and actions? That never happened to him. Not anymore.

  “The less would be me being a jerk and planting my lips on you, right?” Might as well go for honesty. Clara was the only person in his life who rated that. He didn’t want to violate it.

  She blew out a breath. “Um … mostly the being a jerk. You’re a pretty good kisser, it turns out.”

  “So you didn’t mind that?”

  “Not as much as I should have.” Her words escaped in a rush.

  “Glad to know I’m not the only one,” he said, forcing the words out.

  “Not sure it helps anything.” She walked ahead of him, straying beneath the overhang of a curled roof, her eyes on the murals painted on the walls of the temple.

  “Maybe not.” He leaned in, pretending to examine the same image she was.

  “So … is there a solution?” She put her hand on the wall, tracing the painting of a white elephant with her finger.

  He covered her hands with his, his heart pounding, his hand shaking like he was a teenage virgin. “Let me see.”

  He leaned in, his mouth brushing hers. He went slow this time, asking the question, as he should have done the first time he’d kissed her. She didn’t move, not into him or away from him. He angled his head and deepened the kiss and he felt her soften beneath him, her lips parting beneath his, her breath catching, sharp and sweet when the tip of his tongue met hers.

  He pulled away, his eyes on hers.

  She released a breath. “How do you feel?”

  “I was going to ask you the same thing.”

  She looked up. “The roof didn’t fall in.”

  “No,” he said, following her gaze. “It didn’t.”

  She leaned into him, her elbow jabbing his side, a shy smile on her face. “Good to know anyway.”

  “Glad it comforts you.”

  She laughed, her cheeks turning pink, betraying the fact that she wasn’t unaffected. “Comfort may not be the right word.”

  He looked around the teeming common area, at the completely unfamiliar surroundings. And he found he wanted to pretend that the feelings he was having for Clara were unfamiliar, too.

  But he couldn’t. Because they had been there, for a long time, lurking beneath the surface. Ignored. Unwanted. But there.

  “No. Comfort is definitely not the right word.”

  They’d spent most of the day at the temple, then taken a car back to Chiang Mai where they’d wandered the streets buying food from vendors, and watching decorations go up on every market stall for a festival that was happening in the evening.

  Now, with the event coming close, the streets were packed tight with people, carrying street food, flower arrangements with candles in the center, talking, laughing. It was dark out, the sun long gone behind the mountains, but the air was still thick, warm and fragrant. There was music, noise and movement everywhere. The smell of frying food mixed with the perfume of flowers and the dry, stale scent of dust clung to the air, filled her senses.

  It almost helped block out Zack. But not quite. No matter just how much it filled up her senses, it couldn’t erase Zack. The imprint of his kiss. It had been different than the first one. Tender. Achingly sexy.

  It had made her want more. Not simply in a sexual way, but in an emotional way. It didn’t bear thinking about. Still, she knew she would.

  She kept an eye on the food stalls, passing more exotic fare, like anything with six legs or more, for something a bit more vanilla. Maybe food would help keep her mind off things. At least temporarily.

  “I definitely don’t need this,” she said, stopping to buy battered, fried bananas from the nearest food stall.

  “But you bought it,” he said, breaking a piece off the banana and putting it in his mouth.

  “Well, that’s because sweets are my area of expertise. You’re here for the beans and tea leaves, I’m here for the pairing, right? This is research. It’s for work. I need to capture the new and exotic flavor profiles Chiang Mai has to offer,” she said, trying to sound official. “Maybe I can write off the calories?”

  They dodged a bicycle deliveryman and crossed the busy, bustling street, moving away from the stalls and toward the river that ran through the city. “You don’t need to worry about it. You’re perfect like you are.”

  She looked down at the bag of sweets. “You’re just saying that.”

  “I’m not.”

  She sucked in a sharp breath and looked at the lanterns that were strung from tree to tree, glowing overhead. “We should do this more. At home.”

  “Eat?”

  “No. Go do things. Mostly we work, and sometimes I feed you at my house, or we watch a movie at yours. Well, we do go out to lunch sometimes, but on workdays, so it doesn’t count.”

  “We’re busy.”

  “We’re workaholics.”

  Zack frowned and stopped walking. He extended his hand and took a lock of her hair between his thumb and forefinger, rubbing it idly. “Is that why you’re leaving me?”

  She looked up at him. “I’m not leaving you. I’m leaving the company.” And she was counting on that to put some natural and healthy distance between them. Roasted had brought them together, and because they got along so well, after spending the day at work together, half of the time it felt natural to simply go and have dinner together. Watch bad reality TV together. Once they weren’t involved in the same business it would only be natural they would drift apart. And with any luck, it would only feel like she was missing her right arm for a couple of years.

  “What do you need? I’ll give it to you.”

  “You’re missing the point, Zack. It’s about having something of my own.”

  “Roasted isn’t enough for you? You’ve been there from the beginning, more or less. You’ve helped me make it what it is.”

  “No. I just bake cupcakes. And there are a lot of people who can do my job.”

  “But they aren’t you.”

  She closed her eyes and let the compliment wash over her. She’d say this for Zack; he gave her more than most anyone else in her life ever had, including her family. But it was still just a crumb of what she wanted.

  “No,” she said, “some of them are even better.”

  She wove through the crowd to the edge of the waterfront. People were kneeling down and putting the flower arrangements with their lit candles into the stream. The crowd standing on the other side of the waterfront was lighting candles inside tall, rice paper lanterns, the orange spreading to the inky night, casting color and light all around.

  Zack was behind her, she could sense it without even turning around. “I’m glad we came tonight,” she said.

  Zack swept his fingers through Clara’s hair, moving it over her shoulder, exposing her neck. He didn’t normally touch her like that, but ton
ight, he found he couldn’t help himself. Things were tense between them. The kiss at the temple certainly hadn’t helped diffuse it.

  He wondered if most of the tension had started in the bedroom back in the villa. That moment when they’d both looked at the bed and had that same, illicit thought.

  If it had started there, they might be able to finish it there.

  Temptation, pure and strong, lit him on fire from the inside out. She turned, and his heart slammed hard against his rib cage, blood rushing south of his belt, every muscle tensing. He could feel the energy change between them, like a wire that had been connecting them, unseen and unfelt for years had suddenly come alive with high-voltage electricity. He knew she felt it, too.

  “We broke things, didn’t we?” she whispered.

  It was like she read his thoughts, which, truly, was nothing new. But inconvenient now, since his thoughts had a lot to do with what it might be like to see her naked.

  “Because of the kisses?”

  She nodded once. “I can’t forget them.”

  “I can’t, either. I’m not sure if I want to.”

  She took a deep breath. “That’s just what I was thinking earlier.”

  “Was it?”

  “Yes. I should want to forget it, we both should. So we can get things back to where they’re supposed to be but …”

  He leaned down and pressed his lips to hers, soft again. “Do you think we could break it worse than we already have? Or is the damage done?”

  “I have no idea.”

  Everything in him screamed to step back. Because this was an unknown. A move that would affect his life, his daily life, and he couldn’t see the way it would end. And that just wasn’t how he did things. Not since that night when he’d been sixteen and he’d acted unthinkingly, impulsively, and ruined everything.

  He wasn’t that person anymore. He’d made sure of it. If he didn’t walk away from Clara now, from the temptation she presented, if he didn’t plan it out and look at all the angles, he was opening them both up to potential fallout.

  He stepped forward and kissed her again. Deepening the kiss this time, letting the blood that was roaring in his ears drown out conscious thought.

  Clara knew she should stop this. Stop the madness before it went too far. It already had gone too far. It had gone too far the moment she agreed to come. Because the desire for this, for the week to turn into this, had been there. Of course, she’d never imagined that Zack would—could—want her.

  The breaking of things wasn’t just down to the kiss. It was the day at the river, the intense moment on the balcony. The fact that she’d realized she was deeply, madly, irrevocably in love with a man who was just supposed to be her friend.

  He kissed the tip of her nose, then her cheeks. “Zack,” she whispered.

  “Clara.”

  “Are we trying to see if we can break things worse?”

  “Actually, I’m not thinking at all. Not about anything beyond what I feel right now.”

  “What is it you feel?” she asked, echoing what she’d said after they’d kissed.

  “I want you.”

  She hesitated, her heart squeezing tight. “Do you want me? Or do you want to have sex?”

  He looked at her for a long time, the glow of flames across the river reflected in his eyes. “I want you, Clara Davis. I have never slept with one woman when I wanted another one, and I would never start the practice with you. When I have you, I won’t be thinking of anyone else. I’ll only have room for you.”

  His words trickled through her, balm on her soul. Exactly the right words.

  The real question was, did she want to accept a physical relationship when it was only part of what she wanted?

  You only have part of what you want now. A very small part.

  “Just for tonight,” she said, hating that she had to say it, but knowing she did. Because she knew for certain that there could be no romantic future for them. She loved him, she was certain of it now. She had for a long time, possibly for most of the seven years she’d known him. It had been a slow thing, working its way into her system bit by bit. With every smile, every touch.

  And he didn’t love her. Looking at him now, the light in his eyes, that wasn’t anything deeper than lust. But if that was all she could have, she would take that. Right now, she would take it, and she wouldn’t think about the wisdom of it, or the consequences.

  Because she was staring hard into a Zack-free future, and she would rather have all of him tonight, and carry the memory with her, than be nothing more than his trusty sidekick forever, standing by watching while he married another woman. Watching him make a life with someone else, someone he didn’t even love, while her heart splintered into tiny pieces with every beat.

  “One night,” she repeated. “Here. Away from reality. Away from work and home. Because. We can’t keep going on like this. It can’t be healthy.”

  The people around them started cheering and she looked around them, saw the paper lanterns start to rise up above them, filling the air with thousands of floating, ethereal lights.

  “Just one night,” he said, his voice rough. “One night to explore this.” He touched her cheek. “To satisfy us both. Is that really what you want?”

  “I want you. So much.”

  He kissed her without preliminaries this time, her body pressed against hers, his erection thick and hard against her stomach as his mouth teased and tormented her in the most delicious way. She wrapped her arms around his neck and gave herself up to the heat coursing between them. When they parted she felt like she was floating up with the lanterns.

  One night. The proposition made her heart ache, and pound faster. It excited her and terrified her. She didn’t know what she was thinking. But one thing she did know: he wanted her. He wasn’t faking the physical reaction she’d felt pressed against her.

  The very thought of Zack, perfect, sexy Zack wanting her, was intoxicating. Empowering. She wanted to revel in the feeling. One night. To find out if her fantasies were all she’d built them up to be. One night to have the man of her dreams.

  One night to make a memory that she would carry with her for the rest of her life.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  BACK at the villa, Clara started to question some of the bravado she’d felt down in the city. It was one thing to know, for a moment, in public, fully dressed, that Zack was attracted to her. It was another to suddenly forget a lifetime’s insecurity. To wonder if it would be Hannah on his mind.

  They were in the bedroom. And her eyes were fixed on the bed, that invitation to decadence, to passion unlike anything she’d ever known. With the man she loved.

  She sucked in a breath. She wasn’t going to worry about how attracted he was to her, where she ranked with his other lovers. This night was for her. It was the culmination of every fantasy, every longing she’d had since Zack had walked into the bakery she worked at seven years ago and offered her a job.

  He pulled her to him and kissed her. Hungry. Wild. She felt it, too, an uncontrollable, uncivilized need that had no place anywhere else in her life. No one had ever made her feel like this. No one had ever made her want to forget every convention, every rule, and just follow her body’s most untamed needs.

  But Zack did.

  “I want you,” she said, her voice breaking as they parted. She had to say it. Because it had been building in her for so long and now she felt like she was going to burst with it.

  “I want you, too. I’ve thought of this before,” Zack said, unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke, revealing that gorgeous, toned chest. “Of what it might be like to see you.”

  “To … to see me?”

  “Naked,” he said.

  “You have?” she asked, her voice trembling now, because she’d hoped, maybe naively, that he would want the lights off. She didn’t want him to see her. Touch, yes. Taste, sure. But see?

  “Of course I have. I’ve tried not to think about it too hard. Because you work for m
e. Because you’re my friend. And it’s not good to picture friends or employees naked. In my life, everything has a place, and yours was never supposed to be in my bed. And I was never supposed to imagine you naked. But I have anyway sometimes.”

  “I have a hard time believing that.”

  “Why?” He shrugged his shirt off and let it fall to the floor, then his hands went to his belt and her breath stuck in her throat.

  “Because I’m … average.”

  He chuckled, his hands freezing on the belt buckle. “Damn your mother for making you believe that garbage.” He took a step toward her and put his hand on her cheek, his thumb sliding gently across her face. “You are exquisite. You have such perfect skin. Smooth. Soft. And your body.” He put his other hand on her waist. “I thought of you last night. Of this. Of how beautiful you would look.”

  Reflexively she pulled back slightly.

  “What?” he asked.

  “I’m not … What was Hannah? A size two? I’m … I’m not a size two.”

  “Beauty isn’t a size. I don’t care what the number on the tag of your dresses says. I don’t care what your sister looked like, or what your mother thought you should look like. I know what I see. You have the kind of curves other women envy.” He reached around and caught the tab on her summer dress with his thumb and forefinger and tugged it down partway.

  Her hands shook, her body trembling inside and out. She felt like she was back beneath the spotlight again. Just waiting to have all of her flaws put out there for everyone to ridicule.

  “Wait,” she said.

  His hands stilled. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “Please. Can were turn the lights off?”

  There was only one lamp on. It wasn’t terribly bright in the room, but she still felt exposed already, with the zipper barely open across the top part of her back. She felt awkward. Unexceptional. Especially faced with all of Zack’s perfection. He didn’t have an ounce of spare flesh, every muscle perfectly defined as though he were carved from granite.

  He put his hands on her hips and pulled her to him. She could feel his erection again, hard and hot against her. “You are perfect.” He moved his hands around to her back, to her bottom, cupping her. She gasped. She’d never been this intimate with a man. She wondered if she should be more or less nervous that it was Zack she was finally taking the step with.