It was completely humiliating, actually.
"Help with what?" he asked.
I hunched my shoulders and pointed at my back. "Can't get the zipper undone."
"Oh." He licked his lips again, his hands curling into loose fists. "I guess I can give you a hand."
"If it's too weird for you, I'll understand."
"No, it's not weird."
He came up to me, gesturing for me to turn around.
I did, but he made no move to unzip the dress. I waited, feeling more anxious with every second.
"Nice dress," he said, his voice huskier. "You look really good in it."
My voice refused to work, but my body warmed, starting with my cheeks.
He took hold of the zipper and eased it down, inch by inch, his warm fingertip grazing my skin. A sensuous tingle trailed down my flesh in its wake, and suddenly, I had trouble catching my breath. When he reached my bra, he pulled his hand away.
"I think you can do the rest," he said, his voice gruffer.
When I turned around, he was staring at me. Lips parted. Chest rising and falling visibly. Eyes darker somehow, probably because his pupils had enlarged.
My breasts lifted with every breath I struggled to suck into my lungs, and I had the most inappropriate urge to kiss him. Cool air teased my skin where the dress gaped open, the sensation making me a little bit crazy. I wanted to touch him. Press my lips to his. Slip my hand inside his pants.
Ollie's gaze wandered down to my breasts, and he scrubbed a hand over his mouth. "I should go make those calls for you."
He moved toward the door.
I rushed forward to grab his arm. "Oliver."
Though he stopped, he didn't turn to look at me.
A reckless urge overtook me, one so irresistible I couldn't prevent myself from doing what my body wanted. I stepped in front of him, caught his face in my hands, and kissed him.
He held stone-still for a few seconds, while I kept my lips glued to his and reveled in the warmth and softness of them. God, his mouth. I wanted it. Now. Wanted him to thrust his tongue between my lips and ravage me.
Instead, he took hold of my upper arms and pushed me away. "This is really not a good idea. You're still freaked out about the naturist thing, and I don't take advantage of vulnerable women."
Of course he didn't. Oliver Jackson was a good man. I'd known that when I screamed and fainted and he'd caught me. Despite my stupid behavior, he'd taken care of me. Maybe I was not quite myself, but I knew I wanted him, and he didn't want me. Rejection felt like crap.
"Sorry," I said, feeling my cheeks heat up, with embarrassment this time. Ducking my head, I sidled out of his way. "I didn't mean to---Oh God, I really am an idiot."
"No, you are not. But you've had a big shock." He touched my arm. "Take it easy for a while. Watch some TV and chill."
I nodded.
He hooked a finger under my chin and urged me to look up at him. "You're sexy, Mara. I want to kiss you, but not like this."
Ollie ran his thumb over my bottom lip, then he walked out the door.
I stood there like a statue for a minute or two, maybe longer, wondering why I always did such stupid things. Of course he wouldn't want to kiss me. Why would he? I'd freaked out when I saw naked people.
After changing clothes, I ventured out of my room, heading down the hallway and into the kitchen. Ollie wasn't around. He'd told me he was going to his office in the guest house, so I hadn't really expected to find him here, but I had hoped for it. What should I do? Going outside seemed like a horrible idea. The nudists might be out there, and though I knew I wouldn't pass out this time, I still didn't feel up to facing a bunch of naked people who'd heard me scream and seen me faint. God, they must've thought I was a lunatic.
My stomach grumbled.