The Most Magical Gift of All. Fiona Lowe
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‘That good, eh?’ His voice sounded strangled as his brain failed to compute under the assault of eyes that told him she was on fire with the same burning need.
Her eyes darkened to the burnished honey-brown of toffee and her palms rested flat on his chest. ‘More than good. I haven’t felt this alive in months.’
Neither had he. Her heat burned into him. Her breath brushed his face and he saw the flutter of a pulse beating in the delectable hollow at the base of her throat. Then her eyes widened to the point where base desire conquered every other emotion—rational or otherwise—and perfectly mirrored the collision of their thoughts.
‘God, you’re gorgeous.’
‘So are you.’
Her eyes held his and he did what he’d wanted to do from the moment he’d met her. He lowered his mouth, his lips seeking hers, and an explosion of taste met him: the spices of the exotic east, the heat and dust of the desert, feminine desire and something tantalisingly elusive that he couldn’t quite pin down but reminded him of long-lost summer evenings.
What are you doing? You’re leaving town.
He pulled back, stroking away a titian curl from her cheek, only to have it wind itself around his finger like a clinging vine. ‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. This timing totally sucks, because you’re absolutely dazzling but I’m leaving today for a minimum of three months.’
Her clear gaze didn’t waver, nor did it look offended. ‘And would you have pulled away from the kiss if you weren’t leaving?’
He shook his head. ‘Hell, no.’
She smiled. ‘So you would have kept kissing me, and then what?’
He hadn’t expected that question but then again he’d never met a woman quite like her. ‘Are you asking me what my intentions were?’
Her hands rested gently on his chest. ‘Would you have wined and dined me before inviting me into your bed?’
He prided himself on the way he entertained women. ‘Of course I would. But after the meal I’d have shown you the glory of the outback night sky, devoid of rocket fire, and then introduced you to the southern constellations and the Southern Cross.’
She sighed. ‘No sounds or sights of war. That sounds brilliant. And then? Would we spend a few weeks having fun before we both parted amicably?’
He blinked at her refreshing candour. ‘Fun sounds perfect, because I’m not looking for anything permanent.’
The shadows scudded past, dark against her milk-chocolate eyes. ‘Neither am I.’
He groaned at the way the universe was thumbing its nose at him. The perfect woman who didn’t want a long-term relationship and only wanted fun had just walked into his life, and he was leaving. Every part of him wanted her and every part of her seemed to be vibrating the same message back at him.
Even if you weren’t leaving you’re still in Barragong. He ran his hand through his hair. ‘This is insane. We’ve just met but this thing between us, it’s—’
‘Like a force field.’ She bit her lip and blinked before raising her eyes to his, the dusky traces of shadows hovering. ‘I’ve never done anything like this before in my life either, but I’ve just walked out of a horrendous half year where I’ve seen more horror than anyone should witness, and I know nothing is permanent. Tomorrow may never come.’
He needed her to understand. ‘I can’t promise you anything, Sophie.’
‘I don’t want or need promises—my life doesn’t work that way.’ Her fingers traced across his chest. ‘Sometimes we just have to take the good things when they come. I’ve just come out of a war zone, you’re leaving on a much-needed holiday and perhaps this thing between us exists so strongly because we both need it. Maybe we each have what the other needs right now, just for today.’
His body craved hers like the sun-parched desert craved water. ‘Are you totally certain about this? I don’t want to hurt you, Sophie.’
Faint lines appeared on her forehead. ‘I don’t want to hurt you either.’
He’d never felt so torn. ‘I’m leaving in an hour.’ Shut up, Dr Jack.
Her hand cupped his jaw. ‘I know you are and that gives us plenty of time. Consider me your first “holiday treat”.’
The word ‘holiday’ banished Dr Jack and released Jack the man. He circled her waist with his hands, pulling her hard against him. ‘In that case, consider me your Barragong welcome-basket.’
She tilted her head back, hooking his burning gaze with one of her own. ‘That works for me, Jack.’
It was all he needed to hear.
His lips sought hers again, his mouth playing over the lush softness of her lips, his fingers dragging through the thick tangles of her hair, liberating the aroma of tangerine and more sandalwood. He inhaled deeply, revelling in the way the scent released a sense of freedom in him he’d never known.
He heard himself sigh and then her mouth opened under his, inviting him in, hauling him in as her tongue met his with the same eager strokes that he was using. He devoured her touch, her taste, her scent, the blissful sounds from her throat, completely oblivious to the heat of the sun until the harsh screech of a flock of birds flying overhead startled her, and she abruptly broke the kiss, her head turning sharply.
‘What was that?’ The words tumbled from the sexiest mouth he’d ever encountered.
‘Galahs. Get used to the sound, because they’ll wake you at dawn.’ He swung her into his arms and, taking two steps at a time, bounded up to the front door. ‘Time to bring this inside. I’ve no plans to compete with what to you is exotic wildlife.’
As they passed through into the hall, she swung an arm around his neck, her fingers massaging the back of his head. ‘So you can’t do wild?’
His groin ached and his hands tightened around her as he kicked opened his bedroom door. ‘Sweetheart, I can do whatever you want me to.’
She laughed, a sound of pure delight, as he dropped her gently onto his bed. Her hand reached out and clasped around the waistband of his trousers, pulling him forward. ‘I’ll hold you to that.’
Keeping his gaze fixed firmly on her eyes, eyes bright with thundering need, he leaned sideways and reached into a drawer, hoping a stray prophylactic was there because it had been a very long time since he’d had sex in this bed. He almost laughed with relief when his fingers gripped the familiar square foil and he held it up like a well-earned trophy. With the roar of pure, base, untainted lust in his veins he joined her on the bed and opened himself up to the unparalleled ecstasy of holiday sex—casual, no spooning and no strings attached.
Chapter Three
SOPHIE dreamed her cheek was being brushed by fine black stubble and soft lips. A blissful sigh rolled through her as she gave herself up to the deepening dream and