He forced himself to reach up and catch her wrist before he sent himself crazy by letting her skin sweep over his again. ‘It’s all right,’ he told her again, his voice hoarse. Apart from the fact he could barely breathe through the desire to close the gap between them and kiss her.
Her eyes tracked over his face as though checking for the sand and then refocused to look at him properly. Instantly, the moment changed, and the hairs rose along the back of his neck. He watched her throat ripple as she swallowed, her gaze darted down to his mouth, back up to meet his eyes and her pupils were dilated, just like his must be. It felt like he hadn’t taken a breath in hours.
He was still holding her wrist. She was still leaning on his shoulder. It would take so little… It would be so easy… He wanted to so much…
But that didn’t mean he should.
He drew in a deep breath and released her hand. ‘I can’t be seen in this kind of situation,’ he forced himself to say. Because that would put a barrier between them. He couldn’t pretend that complication didn’t exist if he made himself acknowledge it out loud. ‘And I doubt you’d want the kind of attention it would bring if we got caught like this either,’ he added when she didn’t move away.
She sat back on her heels at that, pressing the hand he’d released to her throat, a blush climbing from there to her face. ‘I’m sorry. I was just checking you were okay—’
‘I know.’ But it hadn’t just been that had it? Or maybe he’d imagined it. Either way, someone finding them like this, alone on the beach, staring into each other’s eyes from a matter of inches…not good. It was not good. ‘I should go.’
She nodded and he made himself get to his feet and walk away, even though it was the last thing he wanted in so many ways.
Lila
Lila was not sure what had just happened.
She knew what shewishedhad happened. She knew what signals her brain hadthoughtshe was picking up on, but…come on. There was no way. This was Rowan. The phrase “out of your league” was woefully inadequate.
They were friends. That was all. Maybe not even that. She liked him, obviously, and he was kind to her because he was a kind person.
And she’d thrown sand in his face and then practically swooned into his arms in public when he was trying his best to keep a low profile. She was surprised he hadn’t tossed her into the sea and sprinted all the way back to his villa to barricade the door.
She sat on the beach until the sun had completely disappeared, a cool breeze making goose bumps rise along her arms. It was definitely that and nothing to do with the memory of his eyes fixed on hers, his lips parted, and his fingers wrapped around her wrist.
The party had wound down by the time she went back inside thank goodness. Ruth was asleep on the sofa and Lila managed to rouse her and get her into her bed. Then she tidied up the worst of the mess and got herself ready to sleep too.
Only she couldn’t. Of course she couldn’t.
Had she ruined things with Rowan? Been overfamiliar and so obviously desperate?
She threw an arm across her eyes and willed herself to just stop getting on this sickening carousel ride. Up and down she went, thinking she was getting a handle of her anxiety and then worrying she’d judged things all wrong.
Maybe the only issue was the one Rowan had very clearly said. He couldn’t be caught in compromising positions. He’d told her about that from the very beginning so why should she doubt him?
Because that was what she did best, obviously.
She had to try and take her mind off it, so she picked up her cell phone from the bedside table and went into her emails. Nothing but junk, unsurprisingly, but… Maybe, instead of burying herself in mindless, numbing social media, she got back on the horse again? Instead of cataloguing all her many social failures throughout the day, maybe she should forge ahead and take another risk. Increase her potential of having a positive outcome.
She’d tried being cautious. That had basically been her strategy for life for the last twenty-five years. Hadn’t exactly been going great.
She opened a new message and, without entering in a recipient email address, started typing:
Dear Stephen
That was as far as she’d got last summer too – but he wasn’t going to get to read this. Not until she was happy with it. This was for her eyes only at the moment. She took a deep breath. She could be as silly or blunt or strange as she felt. He never had to read it.
Sorry I haven’t been in touch sooner…
So far, so generic. And did she really want to start with an apology? Why was she sorry? Was she assuming her silence had brought him unhappiness? She closed that message, letting it go into drafts and opened another new one.
Dear Stephen
I know it’s been a long time since you wrote to me. It’s taken a little while to get my head around the idea that I have a brother. But I would like to meet you one day in the future.
Bit cagey she supposed. And when was one day? Had she decided? She started again.
