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How ironic to think that she had watched her mother’s shenanigans, had resolved to make sure never to go down a similar road of losing her heart willy-nilly in a frantic search for validation from a guy, only to find herself, at the age of thirty-one, so naive that she had gone and done the very thing she had spent a lifetime cautioning herself about.
In hindsight, she could have used some of her mother’s experience when it came to playing the field because she might have been better at protecting herself from Nico and the consequences of falling for him.
Grace felt as though the weight of her poor choices would topple her over so she closed her mind to it, closed her mind to everything aside from the need to enjoy herself and let tomorrow deal with the rest.
They staggered in a jerky embrace towards the kitchens, which they had been using for themselves since they had been holed up. They barely made it there. Her hands were scrabbling over him, raking along his spine and cupping his pulsing erection through the still damp swimming trunks. They kissed as they backed towards the kitchens, pushing open the door, which swung back behind them.
The privacy in the hotel was liberating, conducive to sex wherever they landed and whenever they wanted.
For the past few days they had greedily done whatever they had wanted because there had been no one to witness their stolen passion.
Grace felt herself butt against the edge of one of the cool granite work surfaces and gasped as he lifted her off her feet, settling her on the worktop.
She was wearing no more than a flimsy cotton dress and he shoved it up, urging her to wriggle so that he could push it underneath her. He parted her legs with his hands and Grace arched back, hands extended so that she was supporting herself. She was breathing fast, loosing tiny whimpering moans from her parted lips, eyes fluttering shut, holding the image of his dark head lowering with intent between her thighs.
He nuzzled her through her panties, breathing her in and teasing her with little darts from his tongue. He didn’t bother taking them off. She could easily have shifted so that he could have pulled them down and done away with them altogether but, instead, he played with her until she was losing her mind with wanting more.
When he finally pulled the crotch of the panties to one side and inserted his tongue into her wetness, Grace was a heartbeat away from coming. She held on for as long as she could, but it was impossible to resist the insistent thrusting of his tongue as it found her sensitive clitoris and probed it with devastating effect.
Her orgasm was so powerful that she wobbled on the counter, almost falling backwards. She was relieved when he eased her off in one swift, effortless motion to deposit her on the long sofa, one of three that made the kitchen such a comfortable space. Groaning from the aftermath of coming, Grace was aware of Nico ridding himself of his swimming trunks and she barely had time to absorb his rampant erection, as hard as steel, when he thrust into her. One move, deep and hard and taking her beyond what she had experienced the first time. One move and he shuddered against her before collapsing to the side. It wasn’t quite wide enough for the two of them and he was practically falling off, not that she really noticed because she was spent.
The dress was still on and he primly patted it back over her thighs.
‘That’s what happens,’ Nico murmured, ‘when a guy goes swimming and spends the whole time thinking about the woman waiting for him when he gets back to dry land. Think that’s what sailors felt when they spent months at sea? Think that’s why so many children were fathered when they returned from their trips back to hearth and home?’
‘Sometimes,’ Grace said drowsily, ‘the fathering didn’t necessarily include the hearth and home...’
‘Very astute.’ He chuckled and pushed her hair from her face so that he could plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.
It was so tender a gesture that her heart constricted.
For just a moment, she wondered whether this was what love felt like when it was returned. The gentle kiss after the explosive sex, the whispered words, the holding close. The planning for a shared future and the hopes and dreams waiting to materialise.
How could something so far from returned love mimic the real thing? How could life be so cruel? How could she have ended up where she had when she’d thought that all her defences were up and running?
How?
‘Nico...’ She sighed and twisted away. There was just the one window in the kitchen and the shutters were half closed. Through them she could just about glimpse snatches of darkness outside, could hear the rustle of night-time insects in the still, hot air.
The beaches looked different after the hurricane, with toppled trees yet to be cleared away and debris that had either been washed in from the turbulent seas or swept down from the battered land, but nothing could disguise the true blue of the water as it returned to its placid beauty or the icing-sugar softness of the sand drying out nicely under the steady sunshine.
Grace would never forget any of it. Not the sights or the sounds of this lazy tropical island. It was so different from anything she’d ever experienced. Nico was resting against her, idly stroking her breast through the dress, and she shifted a little. ‘I’m thinking that the airstrip is back open for business and the work we began when we came here is finished...’
Nico stilled.
He was still on a high after some of the best sex he’d ever had. He heard what sounded like a serious conversation in the making and for once, post sex, he wasn’t interested. Accustomed to leaping out of bed the very second business between the sheets was concluded, he had discovered a liking here for staying put and winding down with a warm and willing body next to him.Thiswarm and willing body next to him. The last thing he felt like was a dissection of deals that needed doing back in London.
When he had first slept with Grace, he had accepted, as a given, that whatever brief fling they had would disappear the second they touched down at Heathrow. The thought of sleeping with his secretary, once back to the cut and thrust of his high-octane city life, was frankly unacceptable.
He was a firm believer in several hundred lines of separation between work and his personal life. There was no way he could see anything but trouble on the horizon if he were to ever take another route.
And it was more than that. He knew the kind of woman he needed in his life when it came to commitment and Grace didn’t fit the bill, however hot the sex was.
Out here, he was happy to go with the flow, but that wasn’t his nature and it would never be the right path for him.
Now, as she threw that timely reminder into the mix, Nico asked himself why he was so reluctant to admit that she was right, that they couldn’t stay here much longer.
Was it because he wasn’t ready for this to end?
