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For the first time he was glad of exactly how cold this water was. Not that it was stopping his blood flowing.
‘Maybe you’ve had more practice.’ He smiled back. ‘Given that you’ve got your own private beach.’
She tipped her head back, letting some of the water drain from her hair, the curls were still there, just bouncier now. He tried not to stare at the delicate skin on her neck and the base of her throat. It would only lead his eyes to someplace else.
As she tipped her head back up her grin was wide, showing her straight white teeth. ‘Is that beach envy I hear in your voice, Dr Aronaz?’ She was still teasing. He liked this new side of her. It seemed as if once she’d shed her clothes, she’d also managed to shed that serious cloud that seemed to hang around her. He still hadn’t quite got to the bottom of that.
She leaned forward, her lips brushing against the edge of his cheek. ‘One more race, then. First back to the beach.’
He froze, still in place in the water; between the feel of her lips on his cheek and the press of her breasts against his chest as she did that, he’d pretty much lost the ability to concentrate at all.
She let go quickly, turning in the water and heading back to shore. He took a few moments, watching her go. When was the last time this had happened to him?
He’d dated plenty of women—he hadn’t picked up the title of Playboy Prince for nothing—but he’d never dated anyone that clean took his breath away. He’d just never thought that was possible. More like an old wives’ tale that people liked to mention to pretend just ‘how in love’ they were with their spouse or current partner.
He’d never really believed those sensations actually existed. But here, right in the middle of the cold South China Sea, he’d just had an awakening. He’d learned something new.
And he didn’t know quite what to do with it.
She was slicing through the waves like a mermaid and it brought him to his senses. He crawled lazily along behind, no chance of catching up, while his brain churned with a whole host of new emotions.
Philippe Aronaz wasn’t used to being wrong-footed. He was always in control.
He watched as Arissa waded out of the water and turned to watch him, shaking her head with her hands on her hips. She picked up the red dress and held it in front of her as he waded out behind her and walked across the sand.
He was conscious of every bead of water dripping from his skin—just as he was conscious of the rivulets of water running down the length of her. ‘Come on.’ She nodded back towards the bungalow. ‘I’ll get you a towel.’
She turned and started walking towards the pale yellow house. He was slow to pick up his shirt and jeans as he watched her retreating form dressed only in her underwear.
His mind could go so many places right now. And to be honest, he wanted it to. But deep down, his internal voice was screaming at him. Don’t take things for granted. Don’t move too soon.
Arissa Cotter was special. He didn’t want to assume anything. Just because she’d let her guard down a little tonight, and just because she’d moved next to him—touched him—didn’t mean anything.
Somehow he wanted to do everything right around her.
He walked slowly back to her house. She met him at the door with a big blue fluffy towel that she thrust towards him. ‘Dry off in there.’ She gestured towards her bathroom, before disappearing into her bedroom with a towel of her own.
His body almost let out a growl. But he shook his head and took himself into the bathroom, drying off and re-dressing—even though it was the last thing he wanted to do.
By the time he emerged, Arissa was standing in the middle of her living room, dressed in a baggy green T-shirt and jersey shorts. Her hair was still damp and curled around her shoulders.
‘Okay?’ she asked.
‘Of course,’ seemed the natural reply. All of a sudden a wave of awkwardness swept over him. He could say something. He could ask the question. He could ask her what she wanted to happen next. But in the dim light of her bungalow, and the small space of her living room, it didn’t seem quite right. It almost felt a bit intrusive, and the last thing he wanted her to feel was any pressure.
‘Thank you for tonight,’ he said softly. ‘I had a great time.’ He took a few steps towards the door.
‘I did too.’ Her reply was so quiet he almost didn’t hear it, his hand already on the doorknob. He pulled it open. The sun had finally vanished leaving the semi-dark sky sprinkled with glistening white stars.
As he turned back she’d moved right behind him.
He could have stopped. He could have said something clever. But instead he let his instincts take over and he bent, capturing the back of her head in his hands, letting his fingers slide through her damp curls and tugging her mouth towards his.
They both tasted of the ocean, both still smelling of the tang of the sea. But the scent was heady, wrapping around them as her hands slid up around his neck.
She didn’t object, her kiss matching his in every way.
His brain was soaring. He wanted more. But he knew right now that he had to step away.
He kept his hands at her head, forcing himself not to move them to her body, but instead bringing one around to the side of her cheek. When their kissing finally slowed he pulled back and licked his lips, catching his breath slowly.
Her cheeks were slightly flushed, her eyes wide, but she didn’t make any further move either, just watching him carefully.
He smiled at her and stepped back. ‘Goodnight, Arissa,’ he said hoarsely.
She gave a little nod of her head. ‘Goodnight, Philippe,’ she replied. There was a smile on her lips, as if she too was trying to take stock of what had just happened between them.
He turned and headed back down the street, willing himself not to look back, and feeling the blood pulsing through his veins. He couldn’t work out if he was crazy, composed, or contrite.
He’d wanted more, but stepping away had been the only truthful thing he could do. She didn’t know everything about him yet. He needed to have that conversation, and it wasn’t one you had when your arms were wrapped around someone, either in the water or out.
He sighed and looked up at the dark night sky, shaking his head at himself. First day on this island had seemed so long. Now, two weeks seemed as if they would never possibly be long enough.
CHAPTER SEVEN
THE NEXT FEW days were a mixture of easy and frustrating.
It was clear that neither of them could forget that kiss.
She’d wondered if things would be slightly awkward between them, but that first morning after, when she’d walked into the clinic, he’d already been there—with coffee and croissants—and he’d just shot her that sexy grin through tired eyes and gestured to the seat beside him. ‘I started early.’
So had she. In fact she hadn’t slept a wink after that kiss, wondering if she should just have grabbed him by his shirt collar and dragged him back into her house. Instead, she’d slid down the inside of her door once she’d closed it—her legs like jelly, smiling away to herself. It would be so easy to blame the unexpected swim, but she’d known the jelly legs were entirely down to Philippe.
The croissant and coffee had settled her jittering nerves. And Philippe had been entirely normal. Not ignore-the-fact-it-happened normal. No, he?
??d continued to let his hand linger when they touched, she’d occasionally caught him watching her with his sexy smile, but all the while entirely being a gentleman around her.
She wasn’t sure whether to laugh or cry.
There was something so nice about being around him, laughing with him, talking with him. For such a long time she’d been on her own. Between her commitments to home and her commitments to work, she really hadn’t had time in her life for anyone else. Philippe made things easy. She didn’t need to try. She didn’t need to worry about what she was wearing, or how her hair looked, or whether she’d remembered to put make-up on that day.
They’d had lunch and dinner together every day and evening. They hadn’t had a second performance of that night-time swim—or of the kiss—but it was weird. She could almost swear that at times the air between them sparkled.
How stupid was that? An entirely rational, educated woman who thought the air might sparkle between her and some guy? It was like flitting back into her eight-year-old self when she’d imagined she’d marry a prince, and ride off on the back of a unicorn across a rainbow, all while the air around her glimmered. Of course at that point, in her dream she hadn’t been wearing a princess dress, she’d been wearing a NASA space suit because her intention had been to be an astronaut. Ridiculous.
Part of her knew that Philippe was only here for another few days. To expect anything other than a fleeting friendship would be ridiculous. But other parts of her felt as if this was some old-fashioned kind of courtship. And she couldn’t pretend that didn’t warm her heart entirely.
She gave a smile and called her last patient into the second vaccination clinic of the week. There was a queue of patients—Philippe had seen half of the children and the time had flown past. He gave a nod as she escorted the mother and baby into her room. ‘I’ll put the kettle on,’ he mouthed before following it with a cheeky wink.
Her heart scattered across her chest and she hid the smile as she focused on her patient. ‘Welcome, Ana, it’s lovely to see you again.’
* * *
