‘What? Oh,’ Julia giggled. ‘You know what I mean.’
‘I don’t think I do. Are you suggesting that I am not a man?’
‘No … er… what I meant was no other suitable men.’
‘What makes me unsuitable, apart from my size, of course?’
Julia turned her face up to the rain and laughed. Her whole body shimmered with it, creating interesting patterns in the water. ‘You and me?’ she gasped. ‘What a ridiculous thought!’ She was too contorted with laughter to see the strange expression slide across his face.
‘I knew you found me amusing, I didn’t know you also found me ridiculous.’
‘Not you … us.’ Julia unsuccessfully fought her giggles. ‘Can you just imagine it. Come on, Hugh, even you have to admit it’s funny.’
‘I’m not laughing.’
Julia hiccupped to a stop. ‘No, I can see that,’ she said in a voice that trembled. She pressed a hand over her mouth and a series of snorts and snuffles were emitted as tear-blurred blue eyes squinted with laughter.
‘Keep on laughing at me, Julia, and I might feel impelled to show you just how unfunny I can be.’
Julia sobered, almost, at the dangerous softness of his words. Without moving one magnificent muscle he was suddenly all affronted masculinity. She felt as if she had drifted out into the wide Pacific without a compass, so unexpected was this reaction from Hugh. ‘You weren’t serious, though, were you,’ she ventured carefully.
‘No?’ He gave a new kind of smile, small and threatening, that sent a tingle across Julia’s scalp.
‘But you can’t be,’ she protested, no longer laughing. ‘You and me? Nobody would believe it. I wouldn’t believe it! Not after what’s happened between us so far. It’s absurd, it’s …’ she stopped herself from saying ‘ridicul
ous’ just in time.
‘Why? Haven’t you ever heard of the attraction of opposites. We’ve been fighting against it, now we’ve given in. We can make it believable. My family is stuffed to the gills with romance; they’ll believe what they want to believe.’
Scepticism was stamped firmly all over Julia’s features as she stared at him. Was he finally cracking up?’
‘Are you having me on? Is this to pay me back for your hand? You can’t seriously mean that you and I should pretend to be mad about each other,’ her voice rose and cracked at the high note. Another giggle squeezed out of the crack and Julia gave a small scream as Hugh made a sudden lunging turn in the confined space, like the splashing charge of a big ‘gator. A thick forearm pressed against her collarbone, across her throat, stilling her in place while the other, injured hand, was supported by his elbow on the sandy bank. His face was close enough for her to see the firm, resilient texture of his pale skin, stretched across the bones of his skull like fine, expensive leather. Julia tried to slide down under his arm, but her way was blocked by a broad chest and the clamp of a powerful leg over hers.
‘Hugh, what are you doing!’ Julia was shocked and excited at the same time. Hadn’t she secretly wondered what it would be like to touch that muscle-padded body, to admire it with her fingers as well as with her eyes?
‘Wiping the smile off your face,’ came the implacable reply. ‘I … don’t … like … being … laughed at.’ His words were punctuated by small nips in a line down her vulnerable throat from her ear.
‘Hugh!’ Julia squealed. This had to be a fantasy, it couldn’t be happening, though goodness knows why she should conjure up Hugh in a fantasy … why not Warren Beatty, or Robert Redford? ‘You’ll only make me laugh more, I’m ticklish—especially on my neck.’
The great grey head lifted and Julia could have sworn he was laughing … it had to be a fantasy! ‘You would be,’ he sighed. ‘What about your mouth, is that ticklish?’
She couldn’t answer; he was kissing her, lips parted and parting hers. She forgot all about laughing, about where she was and who he was. She was too busy making the startling discovery that she was enjoying his technique.
Oh well, I may as well make the best of it, she thought hazily and she lowered her long, brown lashes and tilted her mouth under his, inviting him further. For a moment she felt his muscles bunch, then she felt his chest settle lightly against her, the thick curling wet hairs caressing the swell of her breasts. The pressure came off her collarbone as a large hand slid around to the nape of her neck and down, to the centre of her back as he lifted her softly against him.
Julia put her hands on his shoulders, feeling the shifting strength, the smooth, slick wetness of curving muscle. His lips and teeth and tongue were excitingly active, tugging gently at the soft inner skin of her mouth, exciting her taste-buds, drawing her own small tongue into the depths of his dark mouth with gentle sucking motions that were incredibly erotic. All sensation was centred on her face, but she was gradually becoming aware of his hand splayed on her spine, the hard stomach pressing against the ridge of her hip.
Hugh made a deep sound of satisfaction which reverberated in his chest, vibrating the water around Julia so that she felt totally immersed in him, part of him. His explorative, explosive kiss changed tempo, his tongue making tiny, swift, stabbing forays into her mouth. Julia’s hands slid up into the amazingly soft dampness of his grey hair, feeling the short strands slip strokingly through her fingers as she gripped, trying to stop those erotically frustrating withdrawals. In the water she felt weightless, he felt weightless on her and he was so incredibly gentle for his size, touching and stroking delicately, the big hands both firm and controlling, yet tender.
Suddenly it was over and Julia sighed, opening her eyes wide, unable to believe it had really happened and that she had reacted so strongly. ‘Where on earth did you learn to kiss like that?’
‘Didn’t you like it?’
He had to be kidding! ‘Did you get a degree in kissing, as well as law, at university?’
He rolled sideways, staring at the small face alight with pleasure and mischief, flushed with heat, and something else.
‘Do I get an A for believability?’ he countered drily and Julia winced imperceptibly. She preferred to think that the kiss had been unplanned, an impulse from an unimpulsive man.