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Sighing, he shrugged on his T-shirt. ‘Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap.’ He picked up his papers and empty glass. ‘I’ll be done in a couple of hours. How about I cook us a meal?’ Her eyes remained firmly in her book. ‘Peace offering?’
‘I’d rather stay mad at you.’
‘Prawn linguine?’ He knew Catherine’s fridge held all the ingredients — it had been thoughtfully stocked by a local couple who looked after the place for her.
Her lips twitched. ‘Okay. And I guess I should apologise, too. I know you’ve got to work. How about I set the table? We can sit out on the terrace. Enjoy the view while we can.’
Nodding, Nick wandered back inside the villa. He might have managed to escape bikini-clad Lizzie for a few hours, but he wasn’t sure Lizzie on the terrace in the moonlight was going to be any easier to resist.
* * *
A few hours later Nick studied Lizzie against the backdrop of the night sky as they ate on the terrace overlooking the bay. Just as the moon cast a soft glow on the calm sea below them, so Lizzie’s beauty seemed to have a luminescent quality about it. It made it hard to breathe, hard to swallow. He felt like a man who’d gone twenty rounds with Muhammad Ali and didn’t have the energy for another bout. For years he’d fought his attraction to her, bitten his tongue and kept his feelings to himself. But after two weeks of being with her almost 24/7, sharing his home with her, sharing meals with her — now under a star-filled sky, for crying out loud — he simply couldn’t handle it any longer. The mental and physical exhaustion of keeping his feelings to himself now outweighed the risk of humiliation and loss of her friendship. He wanted, no he needed, more.
Please God, let him not make a total arse of himself.
As she finished her meal, he reached across the table and clasped her hand. When she looked up, startled, he tightened his grip. ‘I was wondering, what’s the etiquette for finding out if a friend wants to become a lover?’
She flushed. As she slowly put down the glass she’d just picked up, her eyes evaded his, and his heart froze. He’d got it spectacularly wrong. She didn’t think of him that way at all, of course she didn’t. What had he been thinking? And now he’d embarrassed the hell out of both of them. Scalded, he quickly withdrew his hand. ‘Shit, sorry. I must have had too much to drink. Forget I said that.’
Finally she looked at him, blue eyes large in the moonlight. ‘I have to admit, I’ve never had a chat up line quite like that before.’
She was laughing at him. The one thing he’d been certain she’d never do. What a bloody fool he was. ‘Yeah, well, they don’t call me Smooth Nick for nothing.’ He drew back his chair, uncaring that it scraped against the marble tiles. He was desperate to escape, to go and lick his wounds somewhere dark and private. ‘If you’ll excuse me, I need to . . .’ He couldn’t even think of a reasonable excuse. His mind was too full of humiliation and crashing dreams.
* * *
Livid with herself, Lizzie flung her hand across Nick’s arm, stopping him in his tracks. She often resorted to humour when she felt uncertain or scared, and right now she was definitely scared. But that was no excuse. Making a crass joke when Nick was putting his pride on the line was unforgivable. ‘Please, slow down,’ she whispered. ‘I’m sorry. You took me by surprise.’
‘I find that hard to believe.’ His jaw was so tense she was afraid it might snap.
‘Why? Twice I’ve propositioned you, and twice you’ve turned me down.’
‘Twice when you were drunk.’
She took hold of his hand, gently prising apart the rigidly held fingers. ‘Well, I’m not drunk now. Why don’t you ask me to dance? Perhaps then you can find the answer to your question.’
He hesitated, searching her eyes. She hoped he could read her plea. Please don’t let my stupid joke put you off.
‘Okay,’ he said finally, and as her shoulders sagged in relief, her heart started a little jig. ‘But there’s a fundamental flaw in your plan.’
Her breath caught. ‘Oh?’
‘You seem to have forgotten, I can’t dance to save my life.’ Relief washed through her for the second time as he helped her to her feet. ‘Perhaps we can sway to the non-existent music.’
‘Swaying sounds wonderful.’ Her heart felt like it had wings as she moved into his arms.
Chapter Seventeen
Lizzie melted against him. His embrace was everything Nick was; warm, solid, infinitely strong. She clasped her arms around his neck, running her hands through his short hair, nuzzling up against his neck, filling her nostrils with his natural masculine smell. Her mind emptied of everything but the feel of the hard muscles of his chest against her breasts, the caress of his hands as they gently smoothed over her back. The press of his thigh muscles on hers.
It hadn’t been that many days ago when the thought of having a man press against her, his hands on her body, had filled her with revulsion. Then Nick had come back into her life. Carefully he’d begun to fix not just the outside pieces of her life, but the insides, too. Here was a man she trusted with all her heart. He didn’t want to make love to her for the headlines she could generate him, or the money he could extort from her. No, this strong, sexy, kind man wanted her only for herself. Reaching up, she took his face in her hands and kissed him softly on the lips.
He responded instantly, his mouth moving gently against hers as his tongue started a slow caress, tenderly pushing her lips apart. Drawing her more fully against him, he deepened the kiss, his mouth becoming more urgent as he slid his hands down her body, moving unerringly towards her breasts. With exquisite slowness, he brushed his palms across her nipples, releasing a moan from her. His fingers continued to tease, drifting back and forth over her nipples until they stood out prominently against the silk of her top.
Finally he broke away, but only to burrow his face in her hair. ‘I want you, Lizzie,’ he whispered huskily against her ear. ‘Now is the time for you to push me away. Because if you don’t . . .’
‘If I don’t?’
‘God help me, if you don’t I’ll pick you up and carry you upstairs to bed.’
