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Replacing her glass on the surface, she twiddled nervously with the stem, his final statement taking her by surprise as she pinkened slightly, before a small yawn escaped her lips, an apologetic half-laugh leaving her. “I am so sorry... Has been a long day... Full of many twists and turns”, Carig grunting a return laugh before standing. “Why don’t you take the bed? We don’t land for another six hours... I could wake you in say five, give you time for a shower”
With a thankful smile, she moved in the direction of the room he pointed to, slipping into it, her eyes widening with wonder. It was opulent, with an en suite to equal any five star hotel, her head shaking. Dragging the bag given to her by Valerie, she pulled from it toiletries and a change of clothing, silently sending up a prayer of thanks to the woman for her foresight. She had not even given any thought to the next day, never mind that night, as she fished out the filmy night dress.
The sigh which left her as she slid between the sheets was one of indulgence, her tired mind registering that the sheets were the softest she had ever felt, this her last thought before she fell into a deep undisturbed sleep.
As Deborah cleared away the table, Carig threw off his suit jacket, pulling his tie down as he settled in the oversized leather couch. Pulling documents from his briefcase, he began reading reports, one hand tucked under his head as he worked. His mind kept returning to the woman in the other room. For somebody he had expected to at best humour and hopefully not have to deal with too much, she was proving a distraction, his lips twitching. She had a wicked sense of humour and a quick wit, this as attractive as the woman herself. When she had moved into Valerie’s waiting room, he had almost swallowed his own tongue, knowing that Valerie was laughing at him as he tried to recover.
Now the thought of her lying in the large bed alone was doing all kinds of bad things to his self-control, Carig scowling with the realisation that once more he had not taken in the words of the sentence he was reading. Closing his eyes, his mind replayed the strange events of the past two days, his nicely ordered life becoming... less orderly.
Chapter Three
He was on a beach, hand-in-hand with someone. A feeling of total peace enveloped him as the sun began to set, the sky erupting into a dazzling kaleidoscope of colours, the show enough to steal the words from anyone. Beside him, the woman moved, her arm wrapping around his waist, his wrapping around her shoulders drawing her close enough for her to slip under his chin, his head bobbing to kiss the top of her head, neither speaking, both enraptured by nature’s light show.
Taking a deep breath, he had known that now was the time. His heart beating frantically, now was the perfect time.
The wind ruffled his hair, he trying to ignore it as he slowly turned her within his embrace his look still fixed on the sky. Frowning, the breeze blew harder, his entire body moving as everything began to melt, panic filling him. His eyes dropped, he needed to see her one last time, but already she had become mist in his arms, light rushing in to destroy the rest of the scene as Carig’s eyes snapped open.
Deborah stood, her features apologetic, “I’m sorry Mr Calle... You looked like you were having such a good sleep... But I heard you tell Miss Reid you would wake her an hour before we landed, and we land in just over an hour”
Blinking in confusion, struggling to make sense of her words, Carig swung his legs back to the floor, his hands scrubbing his face before smiling up at the stewardess. “Thank you Deborah”, his lips twisting ruefully, “I hadn’t meant to sleep” Nodding, the woman moved back towards the kitchen. “Well you looked like you could do with it Sir... I will prepare some breakfast for you both if you like”
Grinning, he threw the stewardess a thankful smile, “Thanks... Sounds wonderful”, before she slid into the kitchen. Rising, he stretched, his muscles complaining from having slept on the couch. Remnants of the dream still clung to him, his brows furrowed as the sensation of total peace and something else tantalized him. He wanted that feeling again, it felt wonderful – better than anything else he had ever experienced.
In the bedroom, Joy slept. Her back was turned away from him, hair fanned out on the pillow, only her creamy shoulder visible to him. Stealthily moving to the drawers, he pulled a change of clothing from within before moving into the en suite bathroom. Grimacing as he looked down himself, his nose scrunched up. He needed a shower and change of clothing.
Ten minutes later, wearing jeans and a black t-shirt, he slipped back out of the shower, his hair still wet and tousled. His mouth quirked in a grin. Joy had not moved, still sound asleep, any noise from his shower not having awakened her. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he allowed his eyes to run over her, admiring the creamy soft skin, catching his breath at the overwhelming desire which unwelcomingly swamped him, to lean forward and push the hair from her neck and nuzzle into her throat, inhaling the scent of the woman. What was that all about?
Before he did something he would later regret, he shook her shoulder, Joy groaning softly as she rolled onto her back, her hand lifting as though to shoo away a fly, “No... Another ten minutes Joseph... Please”
Carig stiffened. “Joseph? Who the hell was Joseph?”, his hand once more shaking her shoulder, this time a little more roughly, Joy’s eyes opening in shock as she woke in an instant. Looking at Carig, he could see the wariness deep within her eyes as she grabbed the edge of the sheets, pulling them up as she pushed herself to a sitting position. “What are you doing?”, her voice holding more than just a hint of accusation, mouth set in a firm line. Grinning he stood, looking down on her. “Told you I would wake you before we landed. You have just less than an hour. Deborah will have some breakfast ready in about 30 minutes if you want to get ready”
With that he turned and strode from the room, hoping that she would not see the tell-tale bulge that just the sight of her cleavage had slammed into him. What was wrong with him? He was acting like some horny, hormonal, teenage boy, not a man who regularly dated some of the most beautiful women in the world. Gritting his teeth, he tried to unclench his fists as once more his mind wrestled with the question which was eating away at him, ‘Who the hell was Joseph?’
