‘I took one of his cooking courses in France a few years ago when I was on vacation. I owned a little café here in Melbourne at the time and we stayed in touch. Oh, my.’ She clasped her hands under her chin. ‘That looks stunning on you. And it fits like a glove. Trust me, it’s Jett’s kind of dress.’
So she knew him that well? Olivia would never have chosen it but she had to agree, the gown looked amazing. And how long had it been since she’d spent anything on herself? Not that she was the one spending... The sunburst of beads flowed from the sheer bodice and down over one hip. And if the neckline practically plunged to her navel, so what? It had inbuilt support and this might be the last time she got to show off her cleavage.
She hadn’t realised she needed this day until now. More, Jett had anticipated exactly what she wanted. Obviously Jett understood women. He knew what they liked, knew how to please them.
‘I’ll take it,’ she decided.
Olivia managed to purchase some pretty underwear and a couple of outfits before time was up.
‘Jett and I saw quite a bit of each other while I was in France,’ Tyler said as the car drove them towards the hotel. She glanced Olivia’s way, obviously reading her mind. ‘I’d be curious too, if I was you.’
‘No. No.’ I’m not curious. ‘We...he...’ Olivia tripped over her own tongue. ‘Jett and I aren’t in a relationship.’
‘There were some moments with Jett and me, but in the end we settled for friends.’
‘And that’s what we are. Just friends.’
‘Olivia,’ she said, shaking her head, a small smile on her lips. ‘I’ve seen you two together for less than two minutes and I can tell you “just friends” is something you and he will never be.’
No time to protest because the car was already drawing up at the lobby. A porter collected her shopping bags, Tyler said goodbye and Jett climbed in.
Their chocoholic tour lasted over an hour, starting with a French morning tea and cake in a little café while they learned about chocolate making with a small group of other tourists.
Finally, wondering if she’d still fit into her new dress, Olivia had a chance to see her hotel room when she went upstairs to freshen up and find her swimsuit. The first things she’d noticed were the two queen beds but she didn’t see Jett’s bag. She reminded herself it was her choice to remain friends.
She stood a few moments alone, soaking in the floor-to-ceiling view of Melbourne and the casino and catching her breath. Her life seemed a world away. Her problems non-existent for now. This was a day in a million and she intended to make the most of it.
They spent the latter part of the afternoon in the fitness centre. Lazed in the infinity pool overlooking the city. They weren’t alone—it was holiday season after all—but their interaction was companionable. Jett kept her focus on other topics—places they’d travelled, movies they’d seen, their tastes in music. Recognising him, a couple of women exchanged glances and watched with lust-envy as he rose from the pool, water sluicing off the hard planes of his body, his swimming trunks clinging to his powerful thighs.
Olivia knew how they felt and was relieved Jett had organised an aromatherapy massage for her. It helped iron out the kinks stress had brought on over the past couple of days. But it didn’t take her mind off Jett’s near-naked body not far away. Nor did it stop her from imagining stripping off his swimmers and having her way with him on his lounger.
He was still stretched out on that lounger pecking away on his laptop when she returned. She drew in a deep breath, let it out slowly, indulging in the private fantasy.
Sensing her gaze, Jett dragged his eyes away from his screen to watch Olivia in her black swimsuit, hair piled on top of her head, her skin flushed rose and glistening with body oil.
He nearly groaned aloud. His whole body tightened, his blood turned to lava and flowed thickly through his veins.
‘Feeling better?’ He wished to hell he did. Today had been an exercise in self-control, keeping his hands to himself and refusing to think about the bottle of French champagne he’d put in the room’s bar fridge for later tonight and whether or not he was going to get the opportunity to share it with her.
‘I feel fabulous.’ She stretched her arms up, drawing his gaze to the undersides of her Lycra-clad breasts, then she seemed to remember where she was and let them drop to her sides, pronto. ‘I need a shower. What time’s dinner?’
‘Seven. You have the room to yourself. I’ll meet you in the lobby at six-fifty.’ He shifted uncomfortably. ‘I suggest you go now before I decide to accompany you to that shower.’