Page 24 of The Forbidden Fling

Why she’d decided here, of all places, to dig up her family trauma was beyond her. Especially with someone she barely knew. She blamed Marco Marcos for his mind-probing.

But Faye looked back at her with those kind blue eyes, and for some unfathomable reason, on this dusty path on an island in the middle of the Atlantic, she felt safe.

“How old were you?” Faye asked.

“Ten.”

Faye squeezed Diana’s hand tighter. The act of sympathy would usually make her pull away, but with Faye, it did the opposite. Something about her authenticity, that unique Faye-quality she harnessed, pulled her closer.

“That must have been awful. I’m so sorry, Diana.”

Diana gave a small nod of acknowledgement. What more was there to say? Yes, it was awful. It flipped my life in a way I never thought possible at that age. Then my father made my life an utter misery.

So she opted to conceal the rest, letting the heavy silence sit between them, as it often did when the topic of death reared its ugly head.

Faye indicated the cabin to their left. “Is yours far?” Diana hadn’t even noticed they’d stopped walking. “This one is mine.”

“Oh… No, I’m over the hill.” She collected herself, giving Faye’s hand a small squeeze before releasing it.

The abrupt end made the mix of feelings stir more. But their time was over. Diana had her proposal to start. Excavating her traumas wasn’t going to help. Nor would distracting herself with Faye.

Faye fished in her bag for her key, and they took a couple more steps towards the door. A light breeze made Diana cross her arms.

Faye turned at the door, her key in the lock. “I…I feel like I should share a truth, since you shared one with me.”

Diana’s heart beat hard, steady but loud against her ribs. “Alright. If you wish.”

They hovered for a moment; the crickets chirped with the bleating goats.

“I think you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

The boldness of the statement hit Diana square in the chest. Surprise flickered across her features, confusion chasing it. But the softness in Faye’s voice and the steady glint in her eyes left no room for argument.

She swallowed. “Faye—”

“It’s okay. You don’t have to say anything.” Faye gave a small smile, her eyes dropping to her feet.

Why the sadness? Why the sudden change from bold to brittle?

Diana reached for her hand, needing her to look at her, needing to understand. Heat sparked at the touch. The soft gasp leaving Faye’s mouth was enough to draw her attention to her puckered lips.

She wanted to feel them. To taste them again.

This wasn’t a good idea. But the longer she remained in the doorway, the harder it became to think about anything else.

It’d been so long since anybody had told her she was beautiful. Even longer without there being an underlying motive behind it. But Faye wasn’t like that.

A beat passed, with Diana lost in the soft swirl of Faye’s irises. The tug in her belly deepened, heat spreading up her neck. Then she pushed her up against the door, pressing her lips to hers.

Chapter Eight

Faye

Faye gasped into Diana’s mouth as her back hit the door. Her kiss was bruising yet soft, her fingertips holding Faye’s jaw then threading into her hair. Faye moved her own hands before her brain could catch up, sliding them around Diana’s waist. Curling into the material of her dress. Want coiled low in her belly, hot and fierce, intensifying with every movement of Diana’s fingers. When her warm tongue slipped into Faye’s mouth, she nearly lost it, releasing a groan that rumbled deep in her chest.

The soft, breathy sound that left Diana in response was enough to buckle her knees. She wanted to hear it again. And again.

She let Diana guide her inside the cabin, shutting the door behind them with a flick of her wrist. Faye might have voiced her awe at the ease of the gesture, but the soft lips landing on hers again with a hungry need overrode everything else.