Because there could be no more.
And the longer it went on, the worse it would get, and the ache in his hip would never go away.
He so needed that ache to go away.
Which left him no choice.
He would just have to leave. Get them to sign the contract and go home. His time working in the orchard was nearly up. Surely a week or two would make no difference? He’d more than earned his keep.
Besides, the longer he stayed, the more the circumstances that had brought him here niggled at his psyche. It had been easy to come and present a contract to strangers and expect it to be signed, not caring one way or another whether it was the right deal for them or not, but he’d come to like Gus and respect him, and if truth be told, he liked Holly too, maybe a little too much. He didn’t like this feeling that he’d come here because he’d had to, not because he’d ever given a damn who’d been awarded the contract.
He looked back at the sleeping woman in his bed, an ache in his chest now, along with his hip. It would end. It would have to. But first they would have tomorrow. It was her day after all, and he’d planned a surprise to take her mind off her nerves.
One more day and one more night.
Then Sunday he’d take her home and tell them both he had to leave. Gus would understand.
And Holly had always known this was temporary.
And one day she would thank him for it.
If it had taken her fifteen minutes to wriggle out of the boa constrictor two days before, it was taking twice that to get into it. Franco wandered out of the bathroom, lazily tying a black bow tie at his neck. ‘We’ve got ten minutes, Holly.’ His feet and his hands stopped dead. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘A body shaper thingy,’ she said, feeling yesterday’s day spa serenity slipping away, annoyed that he wanted them ready by five when the cocktail party didn’t start until six and the Opera House was only a stone’s throw away. The hairdresser and make-up artist had taken up the rest of the afternoon since lunch and she would have dearly loved five minutes without people prodding at her to allow her to catch her breath.
‘What’s it for?’
‘So I don’t bulge. Bulging is verboten apparently.’
‘Take it off.’
‘No,’ she said, still struggling to get the thing up to her thighs, wondering how she was going to get the rest of herself into it. ‘Apparently it does wonders for my figure.’
He put his hand to her arm to stop her struggles. ‘You don’t need that thing. You don’t bulge. Your figure is perfect.’
‘But—’
‘Perfect, Holly, just the way it is. I know.’
She blinked up at him. ‘What if the dress doesn’t fit?’
‘Of course it will fit. You tried it on before, didn’t you?’
‘But only with this thing underneath!’
He slapped her on her behind. ‘Not a problem. You’ve always got that gown from Betty’s.’
And she slapped him right back. ‘You may live to regret saying that.’
The dress fitted perfectly, of course, just as he knew it would. Just like he’d known she would look amazing if she made a little more use of what she had.
But when he’d done the zipper up to the top and she turned to show him, he just hadn’t realised how very perfect, how very amazing, she could be.
She was, quite simply, a goddess, her hair tangled into a sweeping asymmetrical style that balanced the sparkling clasp on her shoulder. Diamond earrings and a shred of sparkle at her wrist were her only other adornment. She didn’t need anything more, not with those turquoise eyes and that dress conspiring to bring him undone. He’d always fantasised about peeling her out of a gown that was worthy of her and he wondered how much time they had to spare before the surprise he had planned for her.
A glance at his watch made him frown. Nowhere near enough for what he had planned. Their last night together. Strange, to think that.
But it would be a good one.
Her eyes told him he was taking far too long in putting voice to how he thought she looked and any second now her teeth would be working on those lips that the make-up artist had taken an age to get absolutely perfect and he mustn’t ruin, no matter how tempted. He tilted her chin, pressed his lips softly to hers and drew back a little. ‘You look beautiful, Holly.’ She trembled a little at that, her eyes suddenly wide, afraid. ‘You’re not worried about tonight, are you?’ After a blink of her turquoise eyes she gave a small nod of her head.
‘There’s no need,’ he said. ‘Whatever happens tonight, you’ll always be a winner.’
Words, she thought as he opened the door to the suite for her. Pretty, empty words. Just like the heated looks from his smoky eyes. Ultimately empty. Devoid of substance.