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He moved back into the cabin, disappearing into his bedroom. Curious, she padded closer to the door and peered in. There was a desk against the wall, with a large drawer. He pulled out some old pages, and a yellowed piece of paper smaller than the rest which, she saw as he brought it closer, showed hand sketches. The others looked as if they’d been professionally put together.
His eyes held hers as he handed them over, his jaw set.
She didn’t notice. ‘Thanks.’
He spun and left the cabin while Tilly moved into the kitchen. A cursory inspection showed the bench was clean, with the exception of a couple of crumbs from the toast he’d presumably made that morning. She wiped it with a cloth anyway, and then placed the drawings down.
It took her several minutes to comprehend what had been drawn, to orientate herself to the angle of the plans and imagine the buildings that the architect had envisaged.
They were brilliant.
Instead of a large-scale hotel, several cabins had been drawn—some with one bedroom, others with several, allowing for families or groups. The architect had marked an area of the beach to be roped off for activities. On the other side of the island the architect had sketched in a ten-storey building with a pool that ran right to the sand of the beach. And there was the cable car over the volcano, with a restaurant perched right on top, so diners could peek in as they ate.
The door slamming heralded Rio’s return.
‘These are incredible,’ she called, flicking to the next one, which showed the elevations for the buildings.
He made a grunt of agreement and she turned to face him.
‘You’re wet,’ she said, the words breathy.
‘Yes.’ His eyes glittered when they met hers. He lifted a finger and pulled it through the air, beckoning her towards him.
She didn’t hesitate.
He pushed at the sheet, discarding it easily, and lifted her to sit on the edge of the kitchen bench. Her legs were naked and he moved between them, moving his mouth over hers. She pushed at his jeans, loosening them, and he stepped out of them. Naked and so close to her. She edged forward, wanting him again already, needing him.
His hands pulled at her legs and she lay back on the bench, her voice a hoarse cry as he took possession of her, running his hands down her front, teasing her skin, delighting her breasts.
He took her as though his life—and hers—depended on it. He gripped her hips, holding her as he pushed deep into her core, and then his hand moved to the entrance of her womanhood. His fingers brushed against her as he moved and her body shook and trembled with the potency of need.
She exploded just as the lights flicked bac
k to life and everything was bright again. She wrapped her legs around him and he came with her, chasing her, whispering to her in his own tongue, imprinting himself on her for evermore.
She lay there, staring at the ceiling, her mind slow, her eyes heavy with spent desire, her pulse racing. She stared and waited for her breathing to return to normal.
He pressed a finger against her lips and she looked up at him, a smile on her face. ‘The power’s back.’
He nodded. ‘Apparently.’
She pushed herself up to sit, but didn’t relinquish the grip her legs had around his waist. She curled her arms around his neck, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. His lips sought hers and they were gentle, sweet, curious.
She breathed in deeply, smelling him, tasting him. Loving him.
‘These plans are amazing.’ She pulled away just enough to see his face. ‘Have you looked at them properly?’
Again his jaw clenched, and this time she did notice.
It wasn’t until an hour later, after they’d showered and changed into dry clothes, that she began to suspect why.
‘Rio?’ she called, her head bent over the yellow page with the sketches. ‘This is a house,’ she murmured. ‘Not a hotel.’
He was reading the book she’d bought him, and the sight did all sorts of funny things to her equilibrium.
‘Yes. It was an option that was being considered, apparently.’
‘A beautiful house,’ she said wistfully, turning it over to view the floor plan that was on the back. ‘Though quite the change from this little cabin,’ she quipped, for the house was three storeys with tremendous glass windows overlooking the ocean.
