Stripped. Nicola Marsh
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‘Over here.’ I wave, knowing the exact moment she sees me, because her face lights up. It shouldn’t. I’m no good for her. Not in the way a girl like her expects. But I wouldn’t have asked her to meet me here if I didn’t have more than work on my mind and I’m done lying to myself.
I want Daisy.
‘You’re not going to leave me here at high tide, hoping I’ll wash out to sea?’ She steps into the cave and lowers her hand, her head swivelling as she turns a full three-sixty. ‘Wow, this is spectacular.’
‘I thought you might like it. For the shoot,’ I add, hating how clipped I sound, like I’d rather be doing anything other than this. I’m not a people person, never have been, and it irks that I’m so fucking horny for this woman I sound gruffer than usual. ‘In another few hours when the sun sets the light in here is fantastic.’
‘It’s like something out of a fairytale.’ She stops spinning and her eyes are wide and bright. Fuck. I’m not the knight in shining armour someone like her deserves. I should get the fuck out of here now. But my cock has other ideas. ‘How did you find this place?’
‘It was my go-to place when Pa first brought me to the island.’
Why the hell did I blurt out something so honest? Some of the light in her gaze fades at my terse response and I hope she’ll gloss over it.
‘When was that?’
No such luck. ‘He discovered I existed when I was sixteen, so around my seventeenth birthday.’
She wants to ask more. I can see the blatant curiosity all over her face. But she surprises me. ‘This would’ve been a perfect hideaway for a teen.’
I nod, characteristically uncomfortable discussing anything regarding my past. ‘I’d bring a book, some snacks, and hang out. I liked the peace.’
After growing up in foster homes where yelling was often the main method of communication, I thought I’d discovered paradise in this cave. I haven’t been back here for a decade and now I regret asking her to meet me here. It means too much and I’m overwhelmed. My throat tightens and there’s a constricted band around my head, squeezing until it aches.
‘What’s wrong?’
Damn, so much for my famed poker face. ‘Let’s go scout a few more locations.’
If she registers my sudden panic she doesn’t show it. But she does something far more frightening. She crosses the distance between us to stand in front of me, close enough I can smell the resort’s signature exotic fruity body wash, a heady blend of strawberries, lime and coconut. I want to gobble her up.
‘At the risk of sounding crazy, I’m all about the ambience of places. How a house feels, whether it’s good or bad, that kind of thing. And this cave feels incredible, so I’d like to hang out for a bit.’
‘You’re right, you’re crazy.’
I don’t want to stay. Not with her standing too close and staring at me like she can see all the way down to my soul.
‘So I’ve been told.’
I hear a hint of vulnerability in her voice and it slays me. I don’t want to ask. I shouldn’t. But I find my stupid damn mouth not working in sync with my head.
‘Want to talk about it?’
‘Not really,’ she says, but her expression says different, like she’s swallowed a lemon.
‘Guy troubles?’
Belatedly, I remember what she blurted when we were both uncomfortable during our first meeting in my office, something about ending an engagement and not dating much since. I’m an idiot for asking something so personal when all I want to do is escape this place right now.
‘Something like that.’ She sighs and it makes me want to cuddle her. ‘I was engaged to a jerk. Typical good-on-paper guy who’s very different once you have to live with him.’
‘Good on paper?’
She gives a wry chuckle devoid of amusement. ‘The type of guy every woman would love to be with. Financially stable, owns his own house, charming, confident, good-looking.’
‘Like me, you mean?’
‘You’re far from charming.’ She looks at me, but she’s not really seeing me. She’s caught up in memories of some dickhead who hurt her.
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