he teased. ‘Of course. Thank you.’ He looked around. They had the lookout to themselves. ‘I came up here years ago but had forgotten how amazing the view is.’
They walked towards the grassy edge that disappeared into the valley below. There was a little secondary platform screened from the road and he jumped down to the next level and held out his hand. ‘It’s even nicer down here.’ He couldn’t help the satisfaction in his voice. This was an excellent place.
Hmm, Tara thought. Simon looked pretty darned hot down there. More than hot. And there was a little bit of heat singing her even up here.
A tall, tanned, smiling hunk of a man, one she admired privately and professionally, holding his hand out to invite her to join him. Though, having been sandwiched against him for the last thirty minutes, she wasn’t sure that jumping into his arms would be safe at this minute.
Looked a bit of a set-up, Tara admitted with an inward jiggle of awareness, and couldn’t help but remember what had happened after the lake, and definitely after the beach frolic, but she had way more clothes on this time. Note to self. Keep clothes on.
She shrugged mentally and took his hand as she landed beside him. Sucked in the fresh, cooler air and shaded her eyes to estimate how much longer they had to get back before dark.
‘Probably two hours till sunset?’ In the distance the lake sparkled in the afternoon sun, and the mountains behind which the sun would sink were already dusted with gold. Simon was also dusted with gold, everything felt golden, and she could feel the prickle of nervousness again. ‘I like this road for a run on the bike. I’ve been here a few times.’
The air shimmered between them with a bigger thrum than three million cicadas and the awareness in the pit of her stomach growled like a nasty case of hunger pains. Maybe it was hunger pains. She glanced at his backpack as Simon put it down on the grass. ‘So? What’s in the backpack?’
‘A picnic for the princess, of course. Louisa is renowned for her picnic hampers. And I’m not without a few surprises.’
Surprises. Yep, he liked surprises. The first time, with the birthday cake, she’d cried. She was not going to cry this time. ‘Ooh. Picnic. Cool.’
‘Prepare to be amazed.’ He crouched down. Withdrew the tartan rug and spread it in the centre of the grassed area so they were facing the view. He patted the rug beside him. ‘Come on. Down you come.’ He undid the laces on his shoes and pulled them and his socks off.
She was distracted for a minute. He had very attractive feet. Long toes and very masculine-looking feet. He wiggled the toes and she caught his eye. He was grinning at her.
Maybe she could lose her own boots? She sat down, feeling a little heated, a little confined in her outfit, and before she realised what she was doing she’d removed her vest and was reaching down for her boots.
Simon was pretending not to look as he studied the hamper with only occasional sideways glances at her cleavage. Ogler. She laughed at herself. No use getting prudish about that. Why had she worn that shirt if she hadn’t wanted him to appreciate? And she guessed she would have been miffed if he’d sat there and stared at the view and not her.
‘Yep, that’s more comfortable.’ She stretched out her legs and leaned back, resting her weight on her hands.
‘Non-alcoholic sparkling wine?’ Simon held out a plastic champagne flute and Tara grinned.
‘Classy.’
‘Story of my life.’
‘Not mine.’
‘Some people are classy no matter what. You’re one of them.’
Aw, he said the nicest things, and she could feel the prickle in her throat. Not crying. Ha, said a little voice, you said you weren’t taking any of your clothes off either.
He leant over and dull-clunked their plastic flutes in a toast. ‘To the classiest lady I know.’
‘To the smoothest man around.’ She took a sip and it wasn’t bad for a soft drink.
He took a sip and then put his flute down on the lid from the container that held cheese, nuts, celery and carrot sticks, and in the middle was a big dollop of guacamole.
‘You had that in the backpack?’
‘I told you Louisa was the picnic queen. She has a whole set of bowls she uses for hampers.’ He pulled out another that held marinated chicken wings.
By the time they’d picked and sighed over the food, laughed at how strangely hungry they were, and had eaten far too much whenever the conversation flagged, the sun hovered over the distant mountains like a gold penny about to drop.
Simon had packed the food back into the insulated backpack, Tara was gazing into the small pool of liquid in her glass, and the playful mood had deepened back into the awareness that had always been there but which now eddied between them like the afternoon breeze.
‘It’s been fun, Simon.’
‘It has, Tara.’ There was a tinge of amusement in his voice as he slid across next to her. When his hip touched hers he lay back on the rug, one hand behind his head and the other he used to catch her hand.
‘Those clouds over there look like a castle with a dragon.’
She looked up, squinted and frowned. ‘Where?’
‘You’ll have to lie down to see.’
‘Ha.’ But she lay down and he pointed and she could just see what he meant before the turbulence slowly rearranged the puffy paintwork in the sky into something else.
‘I can see a dinosaur.’
‘Where?’
‘To the left of the dragon.’ She lifted her hand and he followed where she pointed.
‘That’s not a dinosaur. More of an elephant.’
She giggled. ‘That’s not an elephant.’
He rolled onto his side and she could feel him watching her. So this is was what they meant when they said ‘basking’. Tara felt herself ‘basking’ in Simon’s appreciation and it was a feeling she’d never really experienced. Could certainly grow accustomed to it too if she had the unlikely chance of that.
He leant over and kissed the tip of her nose. It was unexpected and she sneezed.
Simon flopped back and laughed out loud. ‘It’s hard being a man, you know,’ he complained. ‘I have to make all the moves and then she sneezes.’ He put his hand over his eyes. ‘I had this fantasy that this incredibly sexy woman—dressed in black leather, mind you—would attack me and have her wicked way with me, or at least kiss me senseless.’ He sighed again. ‘But it hasn’t happened.’
Tara rolled over to face him, with her arm tucked under her cheek. Then, with a ‘nothing dared, nothing gained thought behind her eyes’, she climbed on top of him until she had one leg on either side of his body and her weight resting on her hands. She leant in and kissed his lips, once—he tasted so good—twice—mmm
