‘So you’re the arty, flaky type through and through.’
She stopped her bad saunter and glared at him.
He strolled towards her. ‘You think you’re so cool, don’t you? No boring office wear for you in your funky, feathery clothes.’ He gestured to her multi-layered look. ‘You couldn’t possibly be so dull as to hold down a nine-to-five kind of job, couldn’t bear to be in an office, behind a desk. Take on responsibility. How awful that would be.’ He moved a little closer. His voice lowered to a whisper. ‘Well, let me tell you something, Trouble. There is nothing remotely cool about country music.’
Lucy stared at him. ‘You’re so wrong.’ About everything. She stepped a little closer to deliver her parting shot. ‘I am cool, cool like funky. But you know what? You’re cool too—cool like frozen.’
A great white shark had nothing on his smile. ‘You think?’
‘Yeah, you’re so “in control”.’
Daniel watched her hightail it to her room. In control? Hardly. He was on a knife-edge. Dangerously close to acting on emotional impulse and grabbing her to him and kissing her sense-less—until the biting backchat was replaced by the soft sighs and the screams of satisfaction he’d wrung from her last week.
She was the one who was wrong. About everything.
He prowled through his lounge feeling like an intruder. Her shoes were parked at the end of the sofa. Her sarong was draped across the cushions at the end. A magazine lay upside down in the middle of the floor. He picked it up to put it on the coffee table. His eyebrow rose at one of the headlines on the cover—TEN WAYS TO DRIVE HIM WILD. She didn’t need the magazine. She could write the authoritative book on that in ten minutes. He sat on the sofa and flung the magazine out of sight. Stared straight ahead for a minute, but the bright sarong leapt out at the corner of his eye. He sighed, gave in, and picked it up. It was vividly coloured but soft to touch. Just like her. Beautiful, outrageous but with a hint of vulnerability—the chink he had yet to figure out but knew was there.
He’d honestly thought being with her once would be enough. He was dedicated to his work and ordinarily he refused the distraction of a monogamous series of dates, let alone an actual relationship. He’d never be humiliated the way his mother had humiliated his father. He wasn’t ever going to be left for anyone or anything. And his drive to succeed was for his own satisfaction—no one else’s.
But he wanted Lucy again and knew she still wanted him. It was apparent every time their paths crossed. Maybe he should take time out to ensure their paths crossed frequently. She was only going to be around a fortnight or so anyway. He wanted another experience with that hot, wild woman he’d discovered on the pool table.
Wanted, not needed. Just once more.
You enjoy an active and fast-paced environment
THAT night Lucy worked even later than usual, spending the whole time trying to ignore the memories of the previous Friday. She was trying to stop wishing it would all happen again. Regretting the way she’d nailed the lid on it so soon despite knowing it had well been for the best. He annoyed the pants off her—literally. But the last thing she needed was to get involved with a guy—hot as he was—who could offer as much emotional support as a stuffed frog. If she was going to open up to someone, he needed to be nice, and capable of showing some kind of understanding—not clashing with her at every opportunity and being Mr Bossy.
She got home at just after six in the morning—when the first joggers were already out pounding along by the waterfront. She’d attempted a grin at one woman speeding by but it was more of a grimace. She stood under the shower for a few heavenly moments before slipping straight into bed, pulling just the cotton sheet over her naked, warm, slightly wet body.
What felt like five minutes later there was a knock on her door. Groggily she opened one eye. ‘What?’
‘Lucy.’
‘Go away.’
He didn’t. Rather he opened the door. Tee shirt and long shorts. Tanned muscles on show. She shut her eyes tight. The last thing she needed was to see Daniel looking gorgeous in casual-wear. Self-control, self-control—she had some, didn’t she? Even a teeny bit?
He yanked open her curtains. She screwed her eyes shut tighter against the glare.
‘Lucy, you’re coming out with me.’
‘No. I’m sleeping.’ With him. In her dreams. All the time.
‘Open your eyes.’
She ignored him.
‘When did you last see the sun?’ She could feel him close by the bed. ‘You’re turning into some vampire. The bar is going great, but you’re working all hours. You look awful. I’m ordering you to take the night off.’
She opened her eyes at that. ‘Are you forbidding me to go there?’
He nodded. ‘If you set foot in that bar in the next twenty-four hours I’m sacking you.’
‘You can’t do that.’
‘I’m the boss.’
She closed her eyes again. ‘Fine. I won’t go. Now leave me alone.’
‘No. I’ll stand here and annoy you until you get out of bed and spend the day in fresh air like normal people.’
‘Daniel.’
‘Would you rather I got in there with you?’
She sat up immediately, clutching the sheet to her chest.
He grinned. ‘Thought that idea might get you moving.’ He strolled to her door. ‘I’ll give you five minutes. If you’re not dressed and in the lounge by then I’ll be back in here and dressing you myself.’
She lay down again after he left and debated whether or not to stay there.
No. She pushed back the covers and looked out from the curtains, amazed to see the sun high in the sky. She quickly slipped on a top. Then she heard his voice. ‘Put your swimsuit on.’
That would be the bikini—the only swimsuit she had. She really must go shopping for an all-covering granny special soon. She pulled the top off and put the bikini on underneath. Her heart’s tempo picked up. She shouldn’t. Shouldn’t, shouldn’t.
Lucy had always struggled with shouldn’t. It was the red rag and she was the bull.
They walked along the bay and found a warm spot on the crowded beach. He had a blanket.
‘Your tan is fading.’ He ran light fingers down her arm. She shut her eyes with the agony of it and hoped he couldn’t see her reaction flare behind her Jackie O sunglasses.
‘Why are we here, Daniel?’
‘My
