th the exception of the wobble she’d had on New Year’s Eve, which had merely been down to shock anyway, he didn’t have the ability to hurt her any more.
Therefore, if she was well prepared and stayed focused conversation with Kit would be fine. Cathartic even. ‘Shall we have dinner?’
‘The restaurant?’
Of course the restaurant; no way was she inviting him to her villa for room service. ‘Why not?’
‘Eight o’clock?’
Three hours in which to decide her strategy? Three hours in which to don her suit of armour? Or, despite her brave thoughts just now, three hours in which to get completely and utterly hammered? Whichever route she chose to take three hours was perfect.
Draining the rest of her margarita and ignoring the small bundle of nerves beginning to twist her stomach, Lily nodded coolly. ‘Eight o’clock it is.’
*
The terrace where dining took place was everything that could be expected of a luxury four-figure-a-night five-star resort on an island off the coast of Mozambique. Lanterns sat on the edge of the decking, the candles within flickering in the twilight. Tables set with starched white tablecloths, silver cutlery and fine crystal dotted the terrace and the beach. Soft, sultry music drifted from behind the bar into the warm evening air.
Nature lent quite a hand to the feeling of sensuality too. The sea rushed up the sand with a gentle swish and then rolled back. The heady scent of lady of the night drifted through the warm evening air. The palm trees that surrounded the restaurant rustled in the breeze and cicadas chirped in the undergrowth.
Utterly oblivious to the considerable charms of the establishment, however, was Kit, who was standing at the bar and frowning down at his beer as he experienced a rare yet all-consuming moment of self-doubt.
Heading over here had seemed such a good idea last week when he’d put his plans into place. Fired up on adrenalin and the thrill of the chase, and practically burning up with the idea of a second chance with Lily, he’d had his secretary make the travel arrangements while he’d issued instructions to his management team. He’d found himself looking forward to seeing her again and the challenges he knew he could expect. He’d been looking forward to getting everything off his chest and persuading her to give them another shot. More than looking forward to it, if he was being honest.
But now he was here, now he’d seen her clear hostility towards him—which she’d been less successful at hiding than she probably thought—it struck him that maybe he’d been a bit reckless. And maybe he wasn’t being very fair.
OK, so he wanted to talk things through and offload, but perhaps Lily didn’t. Who was he to insist they rake up the past when, considering the boyfriends she’d mentioned, she’d evidently moved on in a way that he didn’t think he had?
By turning up out of the blue like this and demanding they talk he’d put her in an impossible position. He’d probably shot her intentions to relax and enjoy her holiday to pieces. Given what he knew of her he wouldn’t be all that surprised if she’d hopped on a boat to the mainland to catch the next flight home. Or at the very least hotfooted it to one of the other islands that made up the archipelago in an effort to put some distance between them and resume her holiday in peace.
Either one of which was looking increasingly likely, he thought, glancing at his watch, because it was now quarter past eight and Lily was never late.
Beating back the disappointment beginning to sweep through him, Kit swallowed hard and forced himself to focus on practicalities. If she wasn’t late, if she had gone, what would he do next? Go after her again and this time lock her up or something to make flight impossible? Leave her in peace until they got home? Or give up altogether?
As his stomach began to churn Kit exhaled slowly and told himself to calm down. He’d give her another fifteen minutes, then he’d put in a call, and, depending on whether or how she answered, would take things from there.
Thirty seconds later, however, the doubt over whether or not she’d left and what he’d do about it vanished because despite having his back to the entrance to the bar he knew Lily was there. He could feel it in the way his muscles tensed with awareness, the prickling of his skin, the overwhelming sense of relief that flooded through him.
Deliberately slowly he set down his beer, turned round, and at the sight of her his heart stopped. For a moment he felt winded. Blinded. Stunned. She was wearing a simple floaty black dress and sparkly flip-flops, and she was clutching a small black bag. Her neck was bare but big silvery hooped earrings hung from her earlobes.
Her dress wasn’t particularly revealing or overly clingy, yet something about her made his mouth go dry. It was as if she were sort of glowing from the inside out. Her dark hair shone in the soft light of the bar and her eyes gleamed and her mouth was curved into a barely there smile that had his pulse racing.
She looked… He racked his brains for a moment to find the right word. Serene. That was it. She looked serene.
While he felt anything but.
With his heart beating double time Kit watched as she walked over to him and for the first time in years felt a stab of panic because he didn’t know whether to kiss her mouth, her cheek, shake her hand or do nothing.
His indecision was as terrifying as the decision he had to make, and his palms went damp in a way that had nothing to do with the condensation that he’d felt on his beer glass.
With every step she took his head swam just that little bit more, until she stopped right in front of him and, thank goodness, took the decision out of his hands by reaching up and planting a soft, light kiss on his cheek.
Then she stepped back and smiled up at him, presumably completely unaware of how she was affecting him.
‘You look nice,’ she said, giving him a quick once-over that had heat shooting through him.
‘You look beautiful,’ he replied, once he’d managed to clear his head of her scent and unglue his tongue from the roof of his mouth.
‘Thank you.’