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Shock was followed by anger, even as the vicious hunger refused to die.
Why was she here? And why hadn’t she told me who she really was? That we hadn’t just met as casual acquaintances because of her connection to Belle? That we had once shared the most mind-blowing sexual experience I had ever had in my life? One I had not been able to forget even though I had tried...
I shook, my hands trembling, my head starting to hurt, my leg—the muscles still sore from my workout today—cramping for the first time in weeks.
Was she here for revenge? Or because she pitied me and who I had become? Maybe she had come here intending to reignite that passion, only to find me broken and pathetic. And now she had no need of me? Which would explain why she had refused to extend the contract?
Each thought was more humiliating than the last.
But one thing I did know. She had deceived me. Lied to me. For weeks.
I stomped through the suite, tugged on a T-shirt, then grabbed the condoms which had been lying in my bedside table for over a year now. As I made my way down the stairs and through the empty house, the cramp in my leg began to ease. Even as the hunger and fury continued to charge through my bloodstream.
As my walking stick scraped softly against the stone tiles of the pathway, the adrenaline rushed through me and I thanked god for the work I’d done in the past month.
Maybe I wasn’t whole, but I was whole enough. And I was more than ready to act now on the awareness I had seen in her eyes when she had entered my suite last night, and her gaze had burnt over my naked chest.
Why hadn’t I recognised that expression from long ago? Not just awareness, but compassion.
My lips twisted as I evened out my breathing. The scent of rosemary and oregano from the kitchen garden flavoured the sea air and reminded me forcefully of the food she had cooked for me. Always perfectly flavoured to make me ravenous. Now I resented that too.
The moonlight lingered on the bay, while the energy—which I had felt on the rare occasions when I had encountered her around the house in the past month—surged under my skin.
I took the narrow path through the palm trees. At last, I reached the steps down to the cove. I discarded the walking stick, it was merely a tool now, to make my limp less pronounced, but I no longer required it to stand upright... Leaning on the rail, I took the steep steps down. My thigh muscles were sore, but not painful, the sea breeze cooling my heated skin. As I reached the sand, I could hear her soft splashes which were music to my ears.
Sultry, seductive, exhilarating, compelling music, which made heat pool in my abdomen. But now I was not confused by it, just furious at her deception.
It didn’t take me long to spot her in the water.
Ignoring the lounger, where she had left her towel, I propped my shoulder against the rock walls that guarded the cove and rubbed my leg absently.
But the ache there was nothing compared to the vicious pounding in my groin as she appeared like a nymph from the dark sea. The moonlight shone on her downturned face, the line of freckles which had intrigued me once, tantalised me all over again.
The jolt of recognition fired through me again made even more heady by the sight of her full breasts, perfectly cupped by black spandex.
I had not succumbed to madness. It was definitely her. And had been all along.
The plain swimsuit should have looked unappealing—it was a far cry from the designer bikinis most women on the Côte d’Azur wore. But somehow the simplicity of her costume only made it more alluring, clinging to her slender frame and accentuating every subtle curve, every sleek muscle.
My breath backed up in my lungs.
She was as breathtaking as I remembered her. But how could the air of innocence still cling to her, when I now knew she had lied to me for over a month? And hidden her identity from me, the same way she had that night.
But as I watched her walk across the sand towards the towel, still unaware of my presence, it occurred to me finding out why she was here, why she had deceived me for so long, wasn’t the only reason I had come to the cove tonight. Was that why I had snatched up the condoms on my way out of the room?
Vicious need pooled in my groin.
All I knew in that moment was that I wanted her still. She had been mine once, and only mine, and I had thrown her away—carelessly, casually—but there had never been anything casual about the sexual connection we had shared.
I would not throw it away so easily again.
I had been scared then, of the strength of that reaction. But after everything I’d been through since that night, I knew I could handle the hunger now, to get what I wanted.
Was that why I had been so desperate to get her to sign the new contract? Why I had become so frantic? Because she had always represented my chance to become fully whole again?
Getting my sex life back was something I still wanted, desperately. And however lowering it was to admit it, she was the only woman who had stirred my libido since the crash. Indeed, since years before the crash.
I stood transfixed as she leant down to gather up her towel. She began to strip off the costume, easing the straps off her shoulders. I shifted, pushing myself away from the rock to alert her to my presence.
