‘You’re in no position to talk about fairness.’
Shifting forward, she slid her hand over his stomach. ‘Who said anything about talking?’
* * *
Later, body aching, muscles warm and relaxed, she lay curled on her side, listening to the splash of water as Aristo showered. Outside, nothing was moving, and the faded crescent of last night’s moon hung in the washed-out sky, a pale, fragmented twin for the blush-coloured sun that was starting its morning ascent.
She felt incredibly calm—and happy. There was hope now, where before there had been only doubt and fear and two damaged people circling one another. She knew Aristo now—not just as a lover but as a man. She knew where he came from, the journey he’d made to reach her, and he knew her journey too.
And from now on it would be their journey.
Her stomach flipped over as he walked back into the bedroom, a towel wrapped around his sleek, honed torso. His body looked as though it had been spray-painted bronze, and she lay breathless with heat and longing as he stood in front of the open doors, sunlight falling on his bare shoulders.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he said without turning.
She blinked, her fingers clenching guiltily against the sheets. ‘Like what?’
He walked towards her, and the single-minded focus in his dark eyes made a sharp, tugging current shoot through her.
He didn’t answer, just dropped onto the bed beside her and leaned over, sliding his hands over her waist, pulling her body closer, kissing her, opening her mouth and, just like that, she was melting on the inside all over again.
Groaning, he lifted his mouth and rested his forehead against hers. ‘You’re not making this very easy for me...’ he said softly. He shook his head. ‘I can’t believe we have to leave for New York this evening.’
&n
bsp; Curling her fingers underneath the edge of his towel, she pulled him gently onto the bed beside her. ‘Is that a problem?’
He sighed. ‘I just want to stay here with you for ever.’
She rubbed her face against his cheek, then shifted against the pillows to meet his gaze. ‘I want that too, but...’
‘But what?’ Reaching out, he ran his fingers through her hair, wrapping it around his hand, drawing her head back, letting his eyes roam hungrily over the length of her throat. ‘We could easily stay a couple more days—a week, even.’
She stared at him, her head spinning. Did he even realise the full magnitude of his words? It wasn’t just that he was offering to stay on the island but that he was prepared to neglect his business to do so.
Her heart was thumping. She’d been trying to ignore it, but their imminent return to reality had been ticking away in the back of her mind like a timed explosion, waiting to go off.
For the last few days she had been sublimely happy. They’d hardly spent a moment apart, and Aristo had never been more attentive, but part of her hadn’t been able to help but wonder if that would change when the plane touched down in New York. If his promise of change would disappear along with the sand in their shoes.
Now, though, she realised that—incredibly—he had meant what he’d said, for he had just given her the proof she’d been subconsciously seeking that she didn’t need to measure her happiness in days or weeks any more.
‘We could...’
Sitting back, he studied her face assessingly. ‘You’re turning me down?’
Green eyes flaring, she nudged him with her foot. ‘I don’t want to wear you out. I mean, you’re not as young as you used to be—’
She broke off, yelping as he grabbed her foot and jerked her towards him, his dark eyes gleaming with amusement.
‘Is that right?’
His fingers began sliding up her legs, over her ankles, moving lazily over her skin, and she breathed out unsteadily, feeling her body tighten in response.
‘Of course I want to stay...’
She hesitated. Her job had always been such a contentious issue between them, but she couldn’t run away this time. More importantly, she didn’t want to.
‘But I’ve got opening night at the Castine on Saturday. I have to be there.’