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If they took a couple of months, gave themselves enough time to tire of each other naturally and burn off all this sexual energy—the pressure would be off and the affair could run its natural course.
He finished off his glass of champagne as he studied the door to the powder room across the dining area, the relief intoxicating. He didn’t have to worry about how much he wanted her any more. About how much he was enjoying her company.
As soon as she got back he was getting them the hell out of here. They could take the copter back to Laguna and then he intended to indulge the little fantasy he’d been nursing ever since he’d first seen her in that dress.
Tomorrow morning, he’d tell her he wanted her to stick around a while longer. Given the way she responded to him, he didn’t expect it to be a hard sell.
‘Hello, Mac, darling.’
He tensed, the sultry Southern drawl souring his mood a little.
He turned. ‘Hello, Gina. You’re looking…’ Immaculate, was his first thought as his gaze drifted over the pristine make-up and the blue silk, expertly hung on her tall, angular and emaciated frame. ‘Nice,’ he finished.
Funny how Juno’s small, petite frame and artless style stirred his blood in a way Gina and his other girlfriends never had.
‘Nice?’ she said, arching one perfectly plucked eyebrow. ‘Now there’s a word to make a woman’s heart flutter.’
He could see the hurt in her eyes and even three years on felt the pulse of guilt.
‘I’m not great with words,’ he said, annoyed with himself. The woman had all but scalped him in the press. What did he have to feel guilty about? ‘Not unless they’re scripted for me.’ If she fancied an argument she’d have to look elsewhere.
‘Oh, I don’t know,’ she said wistfully. ‘You were always very good with words as I recall. But then I always made the mistake of misinterpreting them, didn’t I?’
The pulse of guilt increased and impatience flared. ‘If there’s a reason we’re having this conversation, maybe you should get to the point?’
‘Actually there is a reason.’ She looked down at the champagne stem clutched in her hand. ‘I never apologised to you. For the problems I caused. And I’m sorry. More sorry than I can say.’
Her apology sounded sincere and left him momentarily lost for words.
‘It’s forgotten, Gina. I stopped holding it against you years ago.’
Her head came up. ‘You have no idea how ironic that is.’
‘Yeah? Why?’
‘You were the wronged party and you didn’t hold a grudge. And yet I held one against you for years.’
‘Why did you?’ he asked, his curiosity getting the best of him. He never had understood why she’d found it so hard to move on.
‘It’s fairly simple, Mac. And I believe I did tell you at the time. I was desperately in love with you. And I was angry that you refused to even try to love me back.’
He shoved a hand in his pocket, her wistful tone threatening to ruin his mood. He wasn’t taking the blame for this. Not any more.
Juno spotted the stunningly beautiful woman with Mac through the terrace doors as soon as she came out of the restroom. Gina St Clair. The supermodel Juanita had mentioned. One of his many conquests.
Who cares if she’s gorgeous? It’s you he’s with tonight.
She repeated the mantra in her head as she made her way through the restaurant’s private dining room, trying not to notice how breathtaking the pair of them looked together. Mac debonair and imposing in the dark tailored tuxedo next to Gina, a vision of style and elegance in sky-blue silk. How tall was the woman anyway? At least six feet in her heels if she could look Mac in the eye. And those boobs, what kind of hooker underwear did she have on to make them look so full and perky? It wasn’t fair.
She was so busy obsessing over Gina’s many assets she didn’t take any notice of their body language until she’d stepped out onto the terrace. She stopped dead as Mac thrust a hand into his trouser pocket and angled his body towards Gina, the animated stance suggesting an intimate conversation.
She hadn’t planned to eavesdrop. But she couldn’t deny the whisper of jealousy.
Was there still something between them?
As Mac’s voice carried to her over the tinkle of glasses and conversation she stepped behind a large oleander that sheltered her from view, and listened to every word.
‘You weren’t
