One Night with Her Ex (8 page)

The word she’d use to describe their relationship at the moment, thought Lily, stuffing a towel into her beach bag and scowling, was platonic.

OK, so most of the activities they’d engaged in hadn’t offered the kind of privacy or conditions needed to deal with a potential unstoppable overspill of desire. Such as the day they’d spent fishing and then the tour of the island. On both occasions there’d been other guests and guides around. And when they’d gone diving, yes, there’d been times they’d been alone, but that had generally been underwater, and, while the sight of him in just his swimming shorts had made her stomach flip and her temperature rocket, masks and aqualungs were hardly conducive to either conversation or the intimacy she craved.

But there’d been many an opportunity for non-necessary touching and many a chance of a stolen kiss or two over the last three days. None of which, annoyingly, had been taken up.

They’d never done platonic, and Lily didn’t think they should because not being able to touch a body she’d once had permanent and all-over access to, not having the right to it, was driving her nuts.

And that was why over breakfast this morning she’d suggested hiring a speedboat and taking a picnic to one of the private, deserted coves she’d heard of on the other side of the island. That was why she’d dressed in her most flattering bikini, had carefully blow-dried her hair even though it would undoubtedly tangle the minute they set off and had buffed and moisturised every square inch of skin and redone her nail varnish.

She was looking as good as she could under the circumstances, the setting was guaranteed to be conducive to seduction and the food bound to be sublime, and if all of that didn’t give him the impetus to make a move, she thought, eyeing herself in the mirror and picking up her bag and hat, then nothing would.

* * *

Kit, who was in the resort office and filling in the paperwork relating to the speedboat rental that Lily had suggested earlier, was fast running out of patience. Deciding to wait for her to make up her mind about what she wanted and then let him know was all very well, but at no point had he considered the possibility that she might not. Ever.

But it looked as if that was exactly what was going to happen because he’d been as encouraging as he knew how and yet for three days now she’d shown no interest in him whatsoever. At least none of the sexual kind. And so, while the last few days had been fun and Lily had been great company, he’d slowly been going insane.

He’d seen the look in her eye when she’d happened upon him in the Jacuzzi, and, after thanking the Lord that the lower half of his body was submerged beneath the hot bubbling water and therefore out of sight, had seen it as an encouraging sign.

Fishing, he’d thought, had been an odd choice of activity but he’d been looking forward to it. Looking forward to spending time with her and seeing how she’d handle the attraction that sizzled between them.

But unfortunately she hadn’t followed up on the promising start, and day three into his holiday Kit was beginning to wonder why the hell he’d embarked on a strategy of letting her come to him in the first place. And why he wasn’t simply abandoning it and dragging her into his arms and to hell with it.

But he couldn’t, he reminded himself for what felt like the hundredth time. He had his principles. His strategy was a good one. A necessary one because if they stood any chance of making another go of things it had to be on equal terms. She had to want it as much as he did. Want him as much as he wanted her.

So no way was he going to make the first move. He’d made enough of those already and he was feeling too slavishly in thrall to her as it was. He wasn’t going to do a thing until he found out how she felt about him, so if Lily wanted him she could come and get him. The beach they were heading to was quiet. Deserted. Private. They had good food, good wine and the entire day together. All she had to do was give him a sign.

With the paperwork finished, the key in his hand and his resolve once again firm, Kit strode down the jetty to where the boat and picnic were waiting. Climbing aboard and with the morning sun beating down on him, he started carrying out the necessary checks, channelling every drop of his focus into the task and putting his frustrations with Lily from his mind.

Which worked like a dream until he felt his skin prickling with awareness and his muscles tensing and he realised that she’d arrived.

Forcing himself to relax, he glanced up and flashed her a quick, cool smile as if the sight of her didn’t make his heart lurch and his mind go blank.

But it did because standing there on the jetty she looked absolutely incredible. She was wearing some sort of translucent thing that floated around her body, moulding itself to her with every breath of breeze and hinting at the luscious curves beneath. She looked like something out of an advert. Cool. Gleaming. Gorgeous. And she blew him away.

‘Hi,’ he said, once he’d managed to regain his power of speech and gathered the wits she’d scattered.

‘Hi.’

Realising that he was in danger of gawking and only a stone’s throw from abandoning his very well-thought-out and sensible plan, he moved over the deck to where she was standing and held out his hand.

She took it, and despite his principles, despite his strategy, it was all he could do not to tug her towards him and ‘accidentally’ have to save her as she overbalanced by wrapping her in his arms.

Once she’d boarded he thought about holding on to her a fraction longer than was necessary. Saying something about how beautiful she looked, how sexy he found her. Giving her hand a squeeze and providing her with the opportunity to squeeze back.

But before he could, she tugged her hand free as if he were suddenly burning her or something, tore her gaze from his and then busied herself with stowing her bag beneath the passenger seat, and he mentally cursed both her for her indifference and himself for his moment of weakness.

‘Ready to go?’ he said, feeling his frustration simmer, his patience thin even more and his mood begin to blacken.

Sitting down and sticking her hat on her head, Lily shot him a dazzling smile that reminded him he really had to get a grip of himself if he stood any chance of hanging on to his self-control today and said, ‘I’ve never been readier for anything in my life.’

EIGHT

She might
be ready for anything, thought Lily a couple of hours later, but Kit clearly wasn’t.

There hadn’t been much opportunity for chat when the boat had been speeding through the water, bouncing on the surface, and the wind rushing in her ears, but once they’d dropped anchor and tied up to a buoy, and once they’d waded to the beach, Kit carrying the picnic basket over his head in a particularly manly fashion, she’d thought things would change.

She’d thought that the day would be like the last few days only with an added frisson of tension and anticipation that the privacy of the cove would afford them. She’d thought—perhaps naively—that today would be a good day to initiate a conversation about what they were doing and what they wanted.

But she’d been wrong.

Because judging by the air of surliness that Kit had worn ever since they’d sped away from the jetty and the monosyllabic responses he’d given to her subsequent attempts at small talk he didn’t seem up to conversation, let alone the kind of conversation she was toying with.

From time to time, unable to stand the awkward, tense silence, she’d glanced over at him and caught him looking at her with eyes so dark and intense they were utterly unreadable and she’d gone so jittery, breathless and dizzy that she couldn’t have spoken even if she’d wanted to.

All in all the morning so far had not been conducive to talking so was it any wonder that every time she’d geed herself up to tackle the conversation she’d planned, she’d chickened out? No, it wasn’t.

But perhaps now they’d had lunch he’d be in a better mood, she thought, brightening a little. Maybe he’d just been hungry. Now she thought about it that made a lot of sense because Kit always got grumpy if he was hungry, and it had been quite a while since breakfast. Plus, although he was beginning to stir now, he’d been so still lying beside her, his eyes firmly closed and his breathing slow and deep, she’d guessed he’d had a little sleep, which would surely add to his receptive frame of mind.

So while earlier might not have been the ideal opportunity to talk, maybe now was. Maybe she ought to take the bull by the horns and take advantage of this moment of peace and quiet and seeming calm, and sort things out once and for all.

Lily took a deep breath and summoned her confidence as she rolled onto her side and propped herself up on her elbow. ‘Kit?’ she said, and smiled at him in what she hoped was a calm, reassuring manner.

Opening his eyes, he turned his head to look at her, ran his gaze the entire length of her and then back up, and abruptly sat up. ‘What?’ he snapped.

His tone cut through her thoughts, derailing all her plans for talking to him about them and zooming all her attention instead to the look on his face. His features were twisted, as if he were being tortured inside. He looked dark. Wild. Anguished. In agony, in fact.

‘Are you all right?’ she asked, alarm beginning to shoot through her at the idea that he might be having a seizure or a heart attack or something.

‘I’m going for a swim,’ he growled, to her astonishment leaping to his feet and striding off towards the sea.

* * *

That smile of Lily’s would be the ruin of him, thought Kit grimly, slicing through the water in an effort to rid himself of the sizzlingly hot electric energy flowing through him.

All morning she’d been flashing it at him and it had been driving him nuts. Just now, when she’d bestowed it on him again together with that soft murmur and the undulation of her body as she’d rolled onto her side, all gentle hills and tantalising valleys, rises and dips and light and shadow, he’d been within a hair’s breadth of reaching for her.

Damn, this whole boat-secluded-beach thing had been such a bad idea. What the hell had he been thinking in agreeing when she’d suggested it? Had he really thought the circumstances would have her throwing herself at him in wild, unbridled passion? Had he really thought he’d have no trouble holding on to his self-control? Hah. What a complete and utterly deluded idiot he’d been. He had no self-control when it came to Lily. He never had.

So what the hell was he going to do now? He couldn’t stay out here pounding away at the waves for ever. He had to head back to shore at some point. And what would happen when he did? How was he going to handle this? Did he even want to think about it?

Perhaps it was best not to. Perhaps it was better to just go with his instinct and suffer the consequences. Communicate how he was feeling with actions rather than words. At least then he’d know one way or another how Lily felt, and if she did reject him he could live with it.

With such a strong sense of purpose now calming the heat and tension inside him, Kit turned for the shore. He was halfway there when he stopped for a breath, looked towards the land and saw Lily sitting on the sand in the shallows and clutching her foot, her lovely face contorted in pain.

His blood ran cold and his heart lurched and he started scything through the water just as fast as he could, the desire to find out what was wrong, the need to help her obliterating any kind of other need and desire.

When he reached the shallows he staggered to his feet, his heart pumping and his muscles screaming. Rubbing water from his eyes and pushing his hair back, he stumbled over to her.

‘What happened?’ he said, dropping to his knees beside her and noting her pale face with concern.

Lily winced and rubbed her foot. ‘I was planning to come and join you for that swim but I trod on something sharp.’

‘Does it hurt?’

‘A bit.’ For which he read
a lot.

‘Let me take a look.’

He reached for her foot. He wrapped his hand round her ankle and was about to take her foot in his other when he felt her freeze. He glanced up at her, saw that her eyes were now filling with wariness as well as pain, and he lost what was left of his patience. ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake, Lily, don’t look like that. I’m not going to ravish you.’

‘You aren’t?’

What did she think he was? Forget communicating with actions rather than words. There wasn’t any need for that now. The wariness in her eyes told him everything. She wasn’t keen. He got it. Finally. So he’d leave her alone. And not just right here and now. ‘Of course not,’ he snapped. ‘Relax.’

With a nod and a frown she bit her lip and he felt the tension in her muscles ease a little. Dragging his gaze from hers, he gently turned her foot in his hands and tried not to think about the softness of her skin or about how he used to give her foot rubs that frequently turned into something else. He tried not to think about how gorgeous she smelled, how warm she felt or how close her mouth was, so close that all he’d have to do was twist his head, lean forwards and he’d be kissing her.

‘Looks like you stood on a sea urchin,’ he said, his voice hoarser than he’d have liked.

‘Is that bad?’

‘I can only see a couple of spines, but who knows?’ He racked his brain for what little he knew about the severity of ocean-creature stings and bites but it was hard when his head was filled with nothing but thoughts of what he’d like to do to her. ‘Are you having trouble breathing?’ He was. In such close proximity to her his lungs seemed to have forgotten how to work.

‘No.’

‘Chest pain?’

‘No.’

‘Then probably not.’

He released her foot and got to his feet before he acted on the instinct he’d been favouring only a few minutes ago out there in the sea but was now wholly inappropriate.

‘Where are you going?’ she asked, squinting up at him.

‘There’s a bottle of vinegar in the picnic basket. The acid should help.’

She gave him a faint smile. ‘Better than you peeing on me, I guess.’

Kit frowned down at her, and thought that despite the stab at humour he didn’t like the flush in her cheeks one little bit. ‘Don’t move.’

‘I won’t.’

* * *

As her foot continued to throb and tiny stabs of pain shot along it Lily watched Kit head over to the picnic basket, her heart contracting and her spirits plummeting.

Her intention to follow him into the sea and continue the conversation she’d barely started might not have worked out as planned, but she’d wanted an answer to the question about where they were heading and now she had it.

Kit wasn’t planning to ravish her, and she didn’t think he meant simply here on this beach. A minute ago they’d been practically naked and so,
so
close to each other and all he’d shown her was cool practical concern, while she...

She blew out a breath as she watched him hunker down and rummage around in the basket for the vinegar, part of which had dressed the salad and part of which was apparently to dress her, and swallowed back a surge of desire.

Well, she’d lied when she’d told him she wasn’t having trouble breathing and didn’t have chest pain, although neither had anything to do with standing on a sea urchin.

The minute he’d laid his hands on her and turned her foot with a gentleness she’d never have expected from him her breathing had gone haywire. And then when he’d told her he had no intention of ravishing her her chest had tightened so much her heart had physically hurt.

And now he was coming back with the damn vinegar and she was going to have to employ every drop of self-control she possessed to stop herself throwing caution to the wind and herself into his arms.

Swallowing hard, Lily kept her hands planted on the sand as Kit once again knelt beside her.

‘I’ll see if I can remove as many of the spines as I can,’ he said with a brief smile. ‘I’ll try to be gentle.’

She didn’t want gentle, she thought rebelliously, clamping her lips together to stop the words tumbling out as he held her foot and began pulling out the spines. She wanted rough. Urgent. Desperate. She wanted his hands not touching her in the cool, impersonal manner of a doctor, but stroking her and kneading her and caressing her in the manner of a lover. She wanted hands that would explore her and make her tremble and drive her mindless with desire.

She might have let out a tiny moan. She might have whimpered. Whatever noise she did make Kit instantly stilled, his head jerking up and his gaze locking with hers.

Something flickered in the depths of his dark eyes and her breath caught. For a moment it felt as if the entire world had stopped to see what was going to happen next.

And then he was jerking away from her, snapping the connection of their gazes and shoving a hand through his hair, and the world carried on its business.

‘Kit?’ she murmured, reeling from the intensity of the moment and the abrupt way it had ended.

‘You winced,’ he muttered, jamming the lid on the vinegar and standing up. ‘I’m sorry if I hurt you. But now you’re done.’

‘Nothing to worry about,’ she said, scrambling to her feet, the pain now wiped out by a wave of mortification and the sting of rejection. ‘And thank you.’

‘We’d better head back.’

‘Good plan.’

* * *

Returning from a visit to the clinic, where her foot was checked and given a cleanish bill of health, Lily stalked into her villa, threw her bag on the sofa and then flung herself on the bed, frustration, disappointment and tension practically tearing her apart.

Kit didn’t want her. Physically or otherwise. That much was now blindingly obvious. So obvious, in fact, that she was kind of stunned she’d ever got into her head that he did.

How could she have been so stupid, so deluded? Well, her sister had a lot to answer for, she thought darkly, rolling onto her front and burying her head in a pillow. If it hadn’t been for that stupid phone call she’d never have leapt to the clearly wrong conclusion that he might still have feelings for her.

Zoe had said she thought that Kit might still love her, but
might
also meant
might not,
didn’t it?

And if
that
was the case then she’d been wrong to read so much into the look he’d given her in the bar when she’d first turned up for supper the day he’d arrived. She’d thought she’d seen so much there in his eyes, but perhaps she’d only seen it because she’d wanted to see it. And perhaps she’d been wrong to imagine, wonder, hope even, that things between her and Kit could be anything other than what they were.

Which was absolutely devastating, because while the last few days hadn’t resulted in a tumble in the waves, they
had
highlighted all the reasons why she’d fallen in love with him in the first place: his enthusiasm for everything he did; his live-life-to-the-full attitude; the way he made her feel protected and cherished; his generosity and inherent kindness.

They’d also highlighted the fact that despite all her assertions to the contrary, despite everything she’d told herself over the last five long, horrible years, she’d never fallen out of love with him. She knew now that she still loved everything about him. Always had, always would.

While he was completely indifferent to her.

As her heart twisted Lily let out a muffled wail and thumped the mattress with her fists. Oh, what a mess. So much for wondering where they were going, she thought desolately. They weren’t going anywhere. Apart from home. Tomorrow. And then on with their lives. Separately.

As a stab of despair shot through her at the futility of it all she rolled onto her back, sat up and looked gloomily out of the window.

At least the weather, having taken a turn for the worse, was vaguely sympathetic to the blackness of her mood.

Ever since they’d got back—and what a hideously awkward journey that had been—the air pressure had been dropping and the temperature had been rising to what was now an almost unbearable level. The clouds that had started scudding across the sky when they’d moored the boat back at the jetty were now so dense and dark it felt as if the island were lying beneath a heavy, hot and humid blanket.

Even though it was only mid-afternoon it felt like dusk. Not the soft, balmy dusk of the last few days, but an edgy, malevolent dusk that was laden with an ominous kind of portent. The wind was whipping up the sea, bending the trees practically double, and the air was crackling with electricity that she could feel vibrating through her too.