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‘Have fun. I’ll...see you when I see you,’ she said, cringing as she stuttered over the words that made it clear she didn’t want to be left alone.
He sighed and she felt even worse.
‘Get yourself a towel,’ he threw over his shoulder. Only now she really didn’t want to go, but couldn’t say so because he’d have to insist that she came and it would be even worse.
Ten minutes later they had left the house and, rather than following the road, they’d cut down a worn path through the rainforest. Unlike before, their footsteps were meandering and the hacking of the machete was not as regular. Bathed in shadows and beams of light, she couldn’t stop looking upwards at the way the impossibly tall trees stretched into a canopy high above them. Every single different shade of green she could imagine cocooned them, making her feel oddly safe in this huge expanse. A warmth that was faintly damp and the smell of the rich earth was so very different from the sprawling English forests she was used to. Skye felt alive and present in a way she had never done before.
Benoit looked back at her for a moment, and she wondered what he could see. She knew that the information they’d shared last night had been necessary to fool his family that they were engaged.
Engaged.
The word hit a wall in her mind and fell to the ground with a thunk. It still didn’t feel real. Neither had last night.
You shouldn’t make a gift of yourself like that.
Was that what she’d been doing? Offering herself to Alistair as some kind of thank you for his relationship with her? So desperate for affection or attention because of her parents, so thankful that she’d...
Benoit had stopped and she had to pull herself up short to prevent herself from running into the back of him. When she looked up over his shoulder she couldn’t help the gasp that fell from her lips. How she’d missed the sound of the stunning waterfall before her she had no idea, until she realised that the dense foliage must have protected them from the gentle roar of the cascade.
A jagged rocky outcrop reached high above them, covered in moss and spindly trees that clung to the stone. Water poured off the edge of the cliff and rushed headlong into a clear blue pool at the base of what must have been a twenty-foot drop. The pool was surrounded by flat rocks, joining the forest floor. It was like something out of a fairy tale.
‘It’s incredible.’
She felt the heat of his gaze against her cheek, but when she turned to look he was staring at the waterfall.
‘I come out here as many times as I can when I’m in Costa Rica. It’s so far off the beaten track that only my neighbour and I can access it. But, as we’ve established, my neighbour is away,’ he said, stalking off down the path before she could respond.
‘I don’t have a swimsuit,’ she called after him, mildly frustrated.
‘Neither do I,’ he growled.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BENOIT HAD STOPPED on a grassy outcrop beside the pool and dropped his bag. He pulled off his shirt and toed off his shoes and socks, his fingers going to his waistband before his hands fisted at his sides.
She forced air into her lungs as she took in the powerful shoulders and sculpted chest that tapered into Benoit’s lean hips. Good God, did people really look like that? Alistair had been a young tangle of limbs and the majority of the men working at the construction site had beer bellies that they joked were ‘bought and paid for’. In the blink of an eye, Benoit dived into the pool, plunging beneath the surface, not emerging until he was far on the other side, as if he was desperate to put some distance between them.
He was pushing her away. The realisation hurt, tapped into deeper issues that she’d long covered over with roles and duties and responsibilities. But it also unlocked something within her, because if he was pushing her away then it meant she had come too close. It meant she wasn’t the only one feeling...feeling...
She looked back to the other side of the pool, shocked to find Benoit half walking and half climbing up a pathway that she couldn’t quite make out. The way the muscles on his back moved, rippling over strong shoulder blades, the powerful width of his arms looking as if he might tear the jagged cliff face down rather than scale it was hypnotic.
By the time he reached the top, Skye had to shield her eyes from the sun and the blush of her cheeks from his gaze because, standing atop the jagged outcrop beside the edge of the waterfall, he looked...like a conqueror—proud, exhilarated. And for just a moment she saw it—felt it—the entire weight of his gaze, his focus, his attention bearing down on her like a physical thing. Her heart stopped, her breath caught in her lungs, and then he soared into the air, his perfect dive slicing into the crystal blue pool below. It was over in a matter of seconds, but her quick mind had captured every detail, every movement his body made, her ears barely hearing the break of the water beneath him.
She didn’t release her breath until he emerged from the water, shaking dark golden tendrils of hair from his face, sending droplets scattering across the surface of the pool. His mouth was still a thin line, but his eyes...they were electric. Zipping and zapping sparks of adrenaline and excitement that were so tempting.
‘Your turn,’ he said. He didn’t have to shout, to project his voice. She heard it as clearly as if he were standing next to her.
‘I don’t think so,’ she replied, only the words felt like a lie on her tongue.
He stayed where he was in the pool, just staring at her, holding his gaze on her as if he could tell, as if he knew that she wanted to take that leap as much as she needed her next breath.
‘I have no intention of repeating myself,’ he warned.
Skye looked up at the waterfall, the pathway that Benoit had made look easy, and she wanted it. Wanted to know what he’d felt, what he’d experienced that had made him look so alive. The yearning in her stomach reminded her of how she had felt last night, standing between his legs, so close to him. The thrill, the fear, the excitement rippling from her core outwards over her body.
An ache formed in her chest, one of pure want, like nothing she’d ever experienced before. As if she were building towards something that only leaping from the top of the waterfall could satisfy.
Without another word, she pulled her shirt over her head and Benoit turned away as if it had nothing to do with her modesty and more to do with a lack of interest. And it stung. It stung because she couldn’t deny how much she wanted him any more. But the hurt didn’t stop the aching need; it simply made it more obvious.
