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‘You gave us a beautiful meal in your home. You might think there’s no comparison but being welcomed into your house, meeting all your family, sharing that dinner with you was an experience we’ll both remember for ever.’ Now a tear did leak from the corner of Olivia’s eye and trek down her face.
Donny reached for her hands, gripped them tight. ‘Thank you so much. It?
?s been hard, you know, watching my Josaia turn into a quiet, withdrawn version of himself. I will ring his father and tell him the good news. He’ll be so happy.’
No pressure.
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘THERE’S A BAND playing tonight,’ Zac called from the outdoor shower box, where he was towelling himself dry.
‘What sort of band?’ Olivia asked from the bathroom, where she was apparently putting on her face.
Why she did that when her skin was clear and her face naturally beautiful he did not understand. But he knew not to say a word. ‘It’s a surprise.’
‘Which means you have no idea.’ She chuckled.
That sound, relaxed and happy, did things to him. Made him wish for more with Olivia: for a future, to be able to wake up every morning with her lying beside him, if not tangled around him. To know she’d be there for him, day in day out, and that he’d have her back all the time would be amazing. Right. Not that he didn’t have her back already, but sometimes he didn’t know what he was protecting her from.
‘Something like that,’ he agreed, as he wrapped the towel around his waist and headed into the main room. ‘Anything from locals to visiting rock stars. I heard a whisper about two guys and their guitars.’
Olivia leaned around the corner, her hair swinging over her arm, her face lit up with a big smile. ‘That narrows the options.’
‘Better than bongo drums at any rate.’
She just laughed and disappeared back into the bathroom.
If only they weren’t going to dinner but staying here, checking out that enormous bed for what it was intended. He was done playing Mr Nice Guy on the far side. While wonderful, the spooning hadn’t been enough, more a teaser of what could have been. Pulling on a shirt, he sighed. One more night. Tomorrow they would fly out of here in a float plane, headed for the airport. This had been a fabulous few days. Continuing to get to know each other seemed the way forward.
‘I heard that there’s going to be lobster on the menu tonight.’ Olivia bounced into the room, her hands busy slipping earrings into her lobes.
His hands faltered, stopped, buttons ignored. ‘You look stunning.’
The red dress she’d somehow squeezed into accentuated all those lovely curves to perfection.
‘You think?’ She spun around on her tiptoes. ‘Not my usual style.’
Her cleavage had never been so—so… His mouth dried. The back of the dress—there wasn’t any. Nothing worth mentioning anyway. Was it really a dress when there was hardly any more fabric than in the blue and lime-green bikini she’d lounged around in all day? The hemline barely made it onto her thighs. ‘So not you.’
Her smile dipped. ‘Should I change?’
Zac’s heart stopped. He stepped across the gap between them, caught her hands in his, and tugged her close. Not so close that they were touching. Then they’d never go to dinner. But close enough that he could breathe in her scent. ‘I have never seen you look so, so beautiful. Ravishing. And before you go thinking you’re not beautiful all the time, you absolutely are. I’m going to order you more dresses like that.’
‘You say the nicest things.’ Her smile was back. ‘I’ve always wanted to go all out and wear something like this but don’t often have the courage. That creation I wore on the night of the gala was the first in a long time. You make me feel it’s okay, so for a moment there I got a bit worried.’
‘I’m a bloke. Clear and concise speech isn’t one of my strong points.’ He dropped her hands. He needed to finish dressing if they were ever going to head to the restaurant.
But one button done up and Olivia was laughing at him. ‘Let me.’ She undid the button, realigned his shirt front and started over. Her fingers were light as they worked down his shirt. Over his chest. Down to his abs—which were sucking in on themselves and just about touching his spine.
Zac gritted his teeth, and his hands clenched at his sides. She was killing him. Cell by damned cell.
‘Relax,’ she said in a low, throaty growl.
Oh, right. Sure. Easy as. He took an unsteady step back and snatched up his trousers from the bed, and muttered, ‘Relax, she says.’
Olivia did wicked without even trying. Her mouth curved into a sumptuous smile, her eyes widened with promise as she slapped her hands on those slim hips. ‘How soon can you get me those new dresses? I never knew wearing something so simple could have this effect on a man.’ Her eyes widened even further, her smile grew bigger. ‘Not just any man either.’
‘There is nothing simple about you or your damned dress.’
‘Damned dress, huh?’ Her gaze cruised down his body, pausing at his obvious reaction to that piece of fabric that was in danger of being torn off her. ‘This is our last night.’
Squeezing his eyes shut, he counted to ten, slowly. Nothing changed. He continued to twenty. His blood still pulsed throughout his body, heating every cell it touched. Finally he drew a shaky breath and locked eyes with her before growling, ‘Last night, last cocktail and final dinner under the palms, last of everything to do with our holiday.’
Last of that stupid ban on sex. Whoa, did that mean they could get up close and personal tomorrow? As soon as they landed back in Auckland could they go straight to his apartment? Or her house? He didn’t care which as long as he could scratch this itch.
Olivia just laughed and picked up a pair of red shoes with heels that would be lethal if flung at a guy. ‘Let’s go enjoy ourselves.’
At least she had the sense not to hold his hand or slip her arm through his as they walked along the path to the restaurant. If she had Zac doubted his ability not to swing her up into his arms and run back to their bure. Last evening or not.
*
‘We’ve been given the best table.’ Olivia glanced around the outdoor dining area as she sank onto the chair being held out for her by their waiter. The table was set well back from everyone else with hibiscus growing on three sides, soft light from lanterns making it feel as though they were in a bubble. A very cosy bubble.
Zac blinked. Was he still trying to get his libido under control? ‘Maybe it’s our turn.’
Every other night honeymooners had sat here. She and Zac didn’t have that qualification. ‘I feel special.’
‘What can I get you to drink?’ the waiter asked.
Zac didn’t ask her what she preferred, instead rattled off the name of the best champagne on the wine list. ‘We’re celebrating,’ he told her when the young man had gone.
‘Celebrating?’
‘Anything and everything.’ He leaned forward, those dark eyes suddenly serious. ‘I haven’t had such a wonderful holiday, ever. Thank you.’
Her eyes filled with unexpected tears. ‘I didn’t do anything.’ Except tease the hell out of you back in the bure.
‘Exactly. You were just you, and I’d never met that you before.’
A tear escaped. Then another. She quickly lifted her glass of water to her lips. What was with this crying stuff? She was usually stronger than that.
‘You’re supposed to reciprocate, tell me how you’ve discovered a superman.’
Then the champagne arrived. ‘Compliments of management,’ the waitress told them.
‘This isn’t anything to do with Josaia?’ Zac asked.
A huge smile split the woman’s face. ‘Enjoy your evening.’
When Olivia had a glass in her hand she raised it to Zac. ‘To us and our fabulous holiday.’ This experience had loosened a lot of permanent knots inside her. She and Zac had gelled so well she was even wondering if it might be possible to have a life together in some way. She wanted to ask if they might continue seeing each other back in Auckland, but the old warning bells rattled in her skull, putting a dampener on that. Just enjoy tonight and wait for tomorrow to unfold. But she didn’t do waiting to see what happened. That meant no control.
Zac tapped his glass on hers. ‘We haven’t finished yet. Our plane doesn’t leave until ten in the morning.’
; ‘Okay, to the rest of our stay in paradise.’ Excitement shimmied down her spine. One more night. Dinner under the stars, maybe some dancing if the band of two turned out to be halfway decent, a stroll on the beach after ditching her heels, and then… Then she planned on seducing Zac into using that enormous bed for something other than spooning.
*
Those picks Olivia called shoes swung from one of her hands while she held onto him firmly with the other. ‘There’s something about walking on sand at night.’ Her voice was a murmur, drifting on the warm, still air, encasing Zac in tenderness.
The need he’d barely been holding onto spilled through him, hissed out between them. It would not be contained any more. After days of bikinis and figure-hugging dresses, laughter and fun, he had to have Olivia—in his arms, under his body. He ached to fill her, to kiss her senseless. But there was that damned rule. He would not be the one to break it. He’d given his word. Never again was he going to make a promise. About anything. Tugging his hand free, Zac went for flippant. Only way to go. ‘Who wouldn’t love damp sand between their toes, scratchy and irritating? Wonderful stuff.’
Olivia’s laughter was so carefree it tugged at his heart. She glanced down at their bare feet and dropped her shoes. ‘Come on, then. Let’s wash the sand off.’ And in a flash her dress was being flung onto the sand beside those red picks. ‘Coming?’
‘You’re such a tease, Olivia Coates-Clark,’ Zac growled, even as he tore his shirt over his head. Talk about upping the ante. His failing self-control would never cope, and yet he followed her towards the sea, nearly falling flat on his face as he ran down the beach while trying to step out of his trousers at the same time.
Plunging into the warm water, he swam towards Olivia, who seemed to be treading water too far out. ‘Hey,’ he growled. ‘Stop right there.’
‘Or what?’ She laughed and began swimming away.
Zac poured on the speed and quickly caught her, catching her around the waist and pulling her to him. ‘Or I’ll have to kiss you senseless.’ She felt good. That compact, smooth body slip-sliding against his. Cranking up his lust. As if that was hard to do.
