‘Strawberries, actually. Want one?’
‘In a minute.’ She lingered over the taste a moment longer, then moved to the wide panoramic window where a table held a bottle of celebratory bubbly and two glasses. Surfers Paradise nightlife sprawled below them like fairyland.
The view was as seductive as the man behind her. She caught his reflection in the darkened glass pane as he moved towards her. Tonight’s whole experience was an aphrodisiac.
Watching his eyes in the glass, she poured two glasses of the wine but left them on the table and murmured a seductive, ‘You know I’m naked under this robe.’
Large, firm hands reached out and squeezed her shoulders. ‘I was counting on it,’ he murmured back, his deep voice rumbling down her spine as he tugged the robe’s belt open and drew the fabric off her shoulders. He kissed one shoulder then the other, pulled the robe completely away.
She heard the soft swish of air as he stripped off his own and then he turned her in his arms. He reached for the glasses, handed her one. ‘To fantasies…whatever form they take.’
She raised her glass. ‘To fantasies.’ She took a sip. ‘You’ve made mine come true, you know. I…I don’t know how to…I can’t—’
‘Shh.’ Jared put a finger against her lips. ‘Not now.’ He took their glasses, set them down on the table.
Jared didn’t take his eyes off her as he carried her to the bed. This luxury suite might have been a dingy motel room on the edge of the Pacific Highway out of Ballina for all Jared knew, or even cared.
Their last night.
Their last time.
She rose up on her knees in the centre of the bed and he joined her, taking it slow as if they could make time stand still while the candlelight flickered and danced. Neither spoke but neither felt the necessity because everything was in their eyes as they watched each other. Their emotions, their desires, their awareness of the inverted hourglass.
They lay down together. It was different tonight. He felt it in the way she touched him, as if memorising the imprint of his skin against hers.
He was making his own memories. His lips lingered at her neck so he might recall the taste of her skin tomorrow, when she was gone. A week from now. A year.
He moved on top of her and, bracing himself on his elbows, stared down. Hair an ebony fan on the pillow, her own unique scent beneath the jasmine…just a shimmer of it in the air. Her eyes drenched with passion…and more.
Through fighting it, he almost surrendered to the inevitable. Was this the time to tell her that his feelings for her went deeper than they had for any woman he’d known? To ask her to consider something on a more permanent basis? Or tell her he’d meet her in a month for a weekend of loving in Paris before bringing her home to live with him.
He leaned down and kissed her. She moaned and moved beneath him as he slid inside her, her hands caressing his cheeks. Perhaps this was where she might tell him she’d changed her mind about going. Or that she’d be back in a month because she couldn’t stand to be without him. She might ask him to take a break from work, to fly over and meet her for a romantic weekend in Paris or Rome, then surprise him by accompanying him back to Australia. To his bed, his home, his life.
And that would be the emotion of the night talking. But in the clear light of day…
Sophie’s hands were cold. It was a clear Gold Coast day but she clamped them together to ease the chill while she waited beside her luggage. Her gaze roamed over the apartment she’d called home for the past four years. The plumped cushions, the cheery mugs on the kitchen bench. The first place she’d ever felt comfortable in. Safe in. Melissa would love it. Jared would no doubt come by and check on his sister…Jared.
Last night… Two fat tears welled up and spilled down her cheeks. When she was ready, when she was strong enough, brave enough, she’d write it all down. The man, the memories. She’d start a book of memoirs instead of a dream diary—she didn’t need that crutch any more. Jared had taught her self-acceptance, given her back her self-esteem.
She just couldn’t be the woman he needed.
He’d dropped her off after a quick lunch in the hotel’s bistro and was coming by any moment now to take her to the airport. But he wouldn’t be taking her—she’d booked a cab. No lingering farewells. A swift clean break.
She jumped at his familiar knock, checked her watch then, inhaling a deep breath, walked to the door and pulled it open.
Their eyes met. The way they had the first time he’d come to her door. Same heart-stopping response. He’d always be it for her. She dredged up a smile. ‘You’re early.’