“It’s been kind of perfect everywhere, well, except for all the mishaps. Of which there have been many.”
He laughed.
“No, seriously, I’ve never been on a recce where so many things have gone wrong. I’m all drama-ed out. I don’t think I can take one more thing happening that spikes my heart and blood pressure. I’m done with all that eventful crap.”
“It has certainly been eventful,” he agreed, tilting his head back towards me again.
I sipped my drink. “Understatement. I don’t think this trip could get more eventful if it tried.”
“Are you sureabout that, Ash?” he asked.
I swallowed. The way he’d just said “Ash,” might have been the sexiest sound that anyone had ever made in the history of humankind and my body reacted to it on some base and primal level. My leg accidentally brushed his under the water and, without warning, he took my ankle and lifted it out the water. I gasped.
“What are you doing?”
“Checking your bite,” he said, bringing my leg up to his face, turning it so my ankle was facing him. “It looks good—no infection or anything.”
But he didn’t put my leg down once he’d inspected it. In fact, he might have even pulled it towards him a little more. In this pose, I felt even more exposed, and was suddenly very aware that I hadn’t shaved my legs in almost a week. I pulled my leg away quickly and put it back under the water. I mentally scolded myself for even caring that my legs were hairy in the first place. I mean, who was he that I should worry about whether my legs were hairy or not, but . . .I did care.And I didn’t like that I cared so bloody much. My neck was in an awkward position now from the leg pull and when I slithered back up, I winced as a pain shot up it.
“What?” he asked quickly.
I rubbed my neck and tried to stretch it like the physio had taught me to. “I might have a mild case of whiplash.”
“How did that happen?”
“Mmm, it was in an accident, of sorts.”
“You want me to rub it?”
I looked up at him and shot him an “as if” look.
“What?”
“I’m not sure that would be a good idea. Last time you had access to my back, things happened.”
“But you put an end to those things, which I totally respect, so no things would happen now, unless you wanted them to.”
“See! This is what I mean! This weird sexual confidence you have.” I pointed at him and winced again as I lifted my shoulder.
“Let me rub your neck. I’ve taken a massage class and I’m pretty good with my hands.”
I rolled my eyes at him very deliberately. “I’m sure you have.” I was sure he was good with his hands, but I was also sure it wasn’t a Thai massage course he’d taken—it was possibly something a lot more erotic than Thai, but still beginning with a T.
“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked.
“Just . . . some things have been said about you—that’s all.”
“What kind of things?” he enquired, looking amused and smug. This was entertaining to him.
“They’re not worth repeating—trust me,” I said, and then tried to readjust my sitting position, so that my neck wasn’t in so much discomfort. I pulled my knees up, and Max did the same, but with so little space in the pool our knees pressed into each other’s, holding us both up and in position.
“I insist you tell me about these things you’ve heard,” he said.
“Nope, not going to.”
“Okay, then tell me more about not having good sex.”
“Well done. At least you waited five minutes before bringing that up again. And I’m not telling you about that ei—” I gasped as Max opened his knees and my entire body slipped forwards. He slammed his legs closed round my legs and my body came to a stop.
