also because his father had never been able to do so... Saying sorry is for wusses, pansies and pathetics. That was one of Jonas Bennett’s favourite sayings. But Ross had always vowed to be as little like his dad as possible.
Propositioning Ally in the way he had was the kind of thing his father would do: when Jonas wanted something he used any means he could to get it. Winning, getting his way, coming out on top was all that mattered to him, and last night Ross had proved that in certain ways he was still his father’s son.
He loved and hated that fact. Loved that he had his father’s drive, passion and work ethic. Hated the fact that he also had his deeply competitive streak. And his stubbornness.
His mother was either a fool or a saint for staying married to him for nearly thirty-five years. How did she do it? Love, she’d once told him, wasn’t an emotion but an action. When you’d been married as long as they had, she’d added, sometimes you had to choose to love and to fight for love.
That sounded too much like hard work, and Ross had yet to find a woman who interested him enough to consider the possibility of a lifetime with her. Ally Jones definitely wasn’t a candidate. Besides, even if he was looking for ‘the one’, he wouldn’t choose a tense, pushy, uptight corporate drone. He’d left that world behind years ago—and all the stress that went with it; why would he ever get involved with a woman deeply entrenched in it?
No, he liked to keep his personal relationships simple and above all honest. So if he hooked up with someone he always made it clear that he wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship. One thing was for sure: when he did find Wonder Woman—he was still too busy to commit the time needed to find her—he’d never let his partner feel she had to compete with his work for his attention, as he’d had to do as a child.
Right—enough introspection. Let’s get this damned apology done and dusted so I can get some work done today.
He believed Miss Jones was on the beach, the concierge told him, so Ross walked out through the doors leading to the promenade, flipping his sunglasses onto his face to hide his eyes from the blistering glare of the midday sun.
Standing at the wall, he scanned the beach, which was reasonably busy for a Thursday in September. Female faces were hidden under floppy hats, caps and sunglasses, so how was he going to find her?
By going up to every single woman on the beach and acting like a pervert, that was how. Perfect. Just what he needed.
Ross stepped onto the beach, ignoring the hot sand that crept into his flip-flops as he made his way to the most populated part of the beach. He looked out to the sea and watched as a woman walked out of the waves and pushed her wet hair back from her face.
He instantly recognised that body, its essential bits covered by fluorescent aqua triangles; he had felt it tremble under his touch last night. A waist he could span with both his hands, curvy hips, legs that went on for ever. Ross swallowed, realised that saliva had disappeared from his mouth and stood still as she strolled up to a beach blanket and dropped onto it, tipping her elfin face up to the sun.
A fist grabbed his heart and squeezed. She was utterly, maddeningly, crotch-jumpingly beautiful and he still wanted her. Probably would do anything to have her.
Just for a night...a couple of nights; just to get lost in that face, that body, the comprehensive femininity of her. And, because he’d been an utter ass, he probably never would.
That sucked.
Ross ran a hand through his hair, gestured to a beach vendor and bought two bottles of water from the elderly man. Cracking the seal on one, he took a long sip and headed to the beach blanket where Ally lay back on her elbows, smiling at two toddlers who were arguing over a spade.
He sat down next to her, handed her a bottle of water and jumped right in. ‘Sorry.’
Ally took the bottle, raised her eyebrows at him and curled her lip. ‘You think a cold bottle of water and a half-assed apology is going to work?’
‘No.’ Ross twisted his lips in frustration. ‘But I thought I would give it a go.’
Ross removed the bottle from her grasp, cracked the lid for her and handed it back. ‘I opened my mouth and spoke without thinking—not something I often do. I wanted to take the words back as soon as I said them.’
Ally cocked her head.
Bloody Nora, the woman had a stare that had all the power of an industrial laser. And why did that turn him on?
‘Then why did you follow me up to my room?’ she asked.
What? Was she kidding? Judging by her puzzled look, obviously not.
‘Have you looked at yourself lately? You are seriously hot!’ He sighed and lifted one arrogant eyebrow slowly. ‘Men are simple creatures, Jones. When they hear “let’s have sex” everything else goes out the window. I thought I’d hit the mother lode. Yeah, I messed up, but you were prepared to ignore that and nail me anyway. I wasn’t going to turn you down. A saint couldn’t—and I’m no saint.’
‘I just bet you aren’t,’ Ally muttered, sitting up and reaching for her bag.
Pulling out a pair of sunglasses—Bellechier, slick and sexy—she pushed them onto her face and leaned back on her elbows again, bending her knees and digging her toes into the sand. Drops of water still lay on her skin, gathered in her belly button, and Ross wished he could sip the salty water from that little receptacle, slide his mouth over her flat stomach, explore the skin that covered her hipbones.
Frick, the woman could rock a bikini.
‘Gorgeous day,’ he mumbled, staring hard at the ships on the horizon, waiting to dock in the harbour further down the beach.
‘Very.’
‘So...sorry.’ He thought he needed to say it again—hopefully for the final time.
Ally tipped her head back and her wet hair, curly with salt water, almost touched the sand behind her shoulderblades. ‘Your apologies could use some work, Bennett.’
True. ‘So I’m forgiven?’
Ally shrugged. ‘Does it matter?’
It did, actually. Ross lifted one shoulder. ‘I’m a straight shooter, Ally. Normally. Despite last night’s mix-up, I don’t play games and I don’t confuse sex with business.’
Ally looked at him and he couldn’t believe how relieved he felt when he caught her mouth twitching with amusement. Leaning over, he pushed her glasses down her nose and saw that her eyes were lighter, almost dancing with mischief. He felt stupidly relieved.
‘What?’ he asked, not entirely sure if he really wanted to know why she was smiling.
‘So how long did you spend in the lift facing the wall?’
‘Far too long,’ he growled. ‘Those wrinklies thought I was sick. They kept asking if I was all right.’
Ally grinned. She lifted the water in a toast. ‘Are you expecting me to apologise?’
‘For the kiss or for leaving me high and dry for the rest of the night?’ Ross asked sourly. Ally gurgled and he
