I’d give her a bit of breathing room. Let her do her thing. And then I’d say the words. The ones I’d kept bottled up for way too long.
I flopped onto the bed and lay down. I was exhausted. I’d barely slept for three nights. It was hard to sleep when you felt like all your nerve endings were on fire because you were in close proximity to the thing you’d wanted more than anything for the longest time.
I’d close my eyes, just for a moment. I reached over, grabbed her pillow and pulled it to my chest. It smelt like her. I pressed my face into it and closed my eyes.
I never wanted to not smell this again.
Yeah. Just a second. I’d shut my eyes for just a second . . .
CHAPTER 40
I was so relieved to find him sleeping when I got back to the villa. His arm was flung across his chest, and he was . . .
God, he was clutching my pillow.
We were due on Victor and Amber’s yacht tonight, so I decided to take the opportunity of him being unconscious to get changed in peace. What he’d said earlier – or almost said – had freaked me out more than I wanted to admit. I was glad he was out cold.
I went into the bathroom and struggled for longer than I should have getting myself into my evening dress, the one Philly had insisted on. As I walked out again, I was making a final adjustment to the straps.
‘Wow. You look amazing.’ His sleepy voice came wafting up from the bed.
‘At least this one has a hem,’ I said, looking at myself in the mirror.
‘How long have I been asleep?’ he asked.
I shrugged. ‘No idea, found you like that.’
‘What’s the time?’
I glanced at my watch. ‘Almost time to go. You have thirty minutes to get ready.’
He stood up lazily and stretched.God, his arms. . . I was so pathetic, it was embarrassing.
I looked away and back at my face in the mirror. One of the hardest parts about this undercover assignment had been the make-up. I’d never really worn much – some concealer for a breakout, mascara here and there, and lip gloss if it was a special occasion. When I’dgone shopping for clothes, Philly had also talked me into getting some fancy cosmetics, and I figured that if there was ever a time to try and look like I belonged on a yacht, it was probably tonight. I reached into my make-up bag and pulled out a lip pencil and lipstick. They were both a vibrant red. I’d never worn that colour before, though I’d often seen women with red lipstick and thought how amazing it looked. Kind of badass. I was about to put them back when . . .
‘You’d look amazing in red lipstick.’
I turned. Cam was standing closer to me than I’d realised.
‘It would go really well with that dress too.’
‘I’ve never worn red lipstick in my life,’ I said. I opened the lipstick and rolled it out, then took the top off the liner. ‘Yeah . . . uh . . . no. I’m not going to try this. I have no idea how to put it on.’
He moved closer. ‘I can do it.’
‘Do what?’
‘Put it on.’
I looked at him sideways. ‘You absolutely cannot.’
‘I can.’
‘No,’ I said firmly. For two reasons: firstly, I genuinely didn’t think he could actually do it, and secondly, I did not want him close to me in any way, not after what had happened earlier, which was something I was totally okay with pretending hadnothappened.
‘I’m not going to take no for an answer,’ he said.
‘And what makes you qualified to be my make-up artist tonight?’
