Will nodded as though he had been woken from a dream. ‘Yes,’ he said absently.
Taking her hand, he led her into the kitchen. The table was set for two and a delicious smell was coming from the oven.
‘Would you like a glass of wine?’ A bottle of red stood open on the table.
‘Yes, please.’
Will handed her a glass and she took a big slug, wondering how on earth she was going to make it through dinner. All she wanted was Will – right here, right now.
‘What did you make?’ she asked, taking another swig. It was strong and heady – as if she didn’t feel light-headed enough already.
‘Lamb,’ Will said, as if he was answering a totally different question, his eyes burning into hers.
‘Sorry?’ She was in such a frenzy of lust, she couldn’t concentrate on anything.
‘Lamb,’ Will repeated, never taking his eyes from hers. ‘Are you hungry?’ There was a predatory glint in his eyes as they locked with hers that took Kate’s breath away.
‘No, not really,’ she said breathily.
‘Good. Me neither.’
In one fluid movement he took Kate’s glass from her and set it on the worktop. His hard, muscular body slammed against hers, his fingers tangling in her hair as he opened her mouth with his.
‘What about the lamb?’ Kate rubbed her cheek against the rough stubble of his jaw.
‘It’ll keep.’ He tugged her dress off one shoulder, dropping his lips to the bare skin.
‘I hope you didn’t go to too much trouble.’ Kate slid her hands up inside his T-shirt.
‘No trouble at all.’ He raised his arms and she pulled it off over his head.
‘Do you think maybe we should turn it off?’ Kate asked between kisses.
‘Turn what off?’ Will was sliding down the zipper of her dress.
‘The lamb.’
‘Fuck the lamb.’ Will’s hand pushed inside her bra.
Kate gasped as his thumb brushed her nipple. ‘No,’ she whimpered. ‘Fuckme!’
* * *
Kate woke the next morning to find the sun streaming through the muslin curtains and Will gone. Stretching languorously in the vast bed, she discovered she had little aches all over her body, as if she had done a really good workout – which, in a way, shehad, she thought, though it had been a hell of a lot more fun than the gym. Sitting up, she glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was only eight forty-five. Hearing noises downstairs, she got up and put on a dressing gown, then went in search of Will.
She found him in the living room, already dressed, his hair still wet from the shower. He was sitting cross-legged on the sofa in front of the television, eating a peach. He smiled as she came in, turned down the sound, tossed the peach onto a plate beside him and stretched out an arm to her. Kate leapt onto the sofa and snuggled up to him. Peach juice trickled down his chin and she licked it as she kissed his dimple.
‘Good morning.’ He kissed her mouth. He tasted wonderfully fresh and summery.
‘What are you doing up so early? I thought we were having a holiday,’ she said, breathing in his fresh, citrus smell.
‘Something came up, there’s some business I have to take care of. Sorry.’ He grimaced apologetically.
‘Couldn’t it wait?’ she asked, disappointed.
‘Not really. It’s a new, um, project I’m working on. I need to get it up and running before we go back to Italy.’
Kate couldn’t help feeling a bit miffed that instead of being disappointed not to spend the morning in bed with her, he seemed pretty pleased with himself.
