Heat flushed through her. “Well, exactly. If I’d been wanting to—,”
“Tilt your cap at me,” he inserted with a teasing smile changing the features of his face.
“Right. I’d have done a better job.”
“If you were aiming to make me crazy for you so that I could not stop thinking about you all weekend, you did an excellent job.”
She sucked in a breath of surprise. “I didn’t plan this.”
“I know.” He stroked her cheek. “Nor did I.”
She nodded. He’d fought this pretty hard. “And when we leave here, on Sunday, we’ll pretend this never happened. Right?”
She didn’t know why she’d turned that into a question. They’d both agreed to that and it made sense. This was a fling – a weekend out of time. Once she was back in the office, they’d be like strangers to one another.
“I think that’s a little naïve.”
Something strange burst inside her, something that felt dangerously like hope.
“There’s no sense pretending it didn’t happen. But we will go back to our normal relationship. There is no ongoing consequence from this.” He held her gaze for a moment too long, as if to assure himself she was in agreement, then nodded, apparently satisfied. He shifted, pulling his body away from hers, so she made a small groaning noise of disappointment – because she hadn’t been ready for him to leave her yet.
His laugh was heavy. “The night is not over.”
She pouted. “But I just –,”
He dropped a kiss to her lips then straightened. “I know. And I approve.”
She watched him disappear into the bathroom, incapable of movement. A moment later he appeared with a towel slung low around his waist. He paused at the tiny fridge, removing two bottles of mineral water. He held one out to Bronte and she took it on autopilot, her eyes lingering on his bare chest. Fine red lines criss-crossed his tanned flesh, scratch marks made by her urgent, desperate fingers.
She lifted up onto her knees, moving to the edge of the bed. “I’m sorry about these.” She hesitated for a moment before pressing a kiss to the bottom of one of the scratches, then traced it with her fingertip.
He was very still, eve
n his chest remained as it was, like he was holding his breath.
“Do they hurt?”
“I’m tempted to say ‘yes’, just so you’ll kiss them all better.”
It was very strange how comfortable she felt. Half an hour ago she’d been awash with nerves but now this felt so normal and natural, it was hard to reconcile her two different emotional states.
“Oh, I’d like to do that.” She leaned forward, underscoring her words with another gentle kiss. This time, she traced the line all the way to the top using her lips and not her fingertips. He let out a shuddering breath and she felt the force of his gaze on her as she transferred to another scratch.
Bronte smiled to herself, feeling sensual, wicked and unpredictable. The morning would bring them closer to the end but for now, the night was young, and she intended to make the most of it…
8
“I HAVE TO WAKE up in under five hours.”
“That’s ages away.” He kissed a line from her shoulder to her jaw, his lips gentle, sending tiny darts of pleasure through her body.
“Is it?” She sighed, every sensation hyper-charged so that even the soft fabric of the sheet made her skin tingle.
“Mmm.” A muffled noise, his lips pressed to a pulse point at the base of her throat. “More than three hundred minutes.”
“Ah.” She grinned. “You’re quick with maths.”
He laughed. “Such rudimentary maths.”