‘I was joking, Lola. Don’t look so worried. Take whichever room you want and I’ll have the other.’ He bent and unzipped his bag, grabbed something from it. ‘I’m going for a swim while I have the chance. Coming?’
She imagined him in board shorts. A naked chest. Bare skin. Soaking wet. And swallowed through a dry throat. ‘Er... No. I don’t want to leave these little guys on their own and I really do need to unpack. And Cameron might call...and I’m thirsty...’ And...she was rambling again.
‘Hey.’ He stepped closer. ‘Don’t worry, Lola. It’s all under control. How about I have a swim, then take over childcare while you go and cool off? A roster system?’
‘Oh, okay, that sounds great. Thanks. It is very hot. And I could do with a swim. Later, when you get back.’
The smile slipped. ‘Sure. And that way we need never be in the same room for longer than a few moments. Just at cross-over. That’s what you want? Right?’
Her heart began to hammer—he was very forthright when he wanted to be. Direct and to the point. She supposed he had to be in his line of work—couldn’t pussy-foot around a bad diagnosis. But it left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. She wasn’t used to people speaking their minds quite so openly. Besides, she didn’t know what she wanted in relation to their living arrangements. ‘I just think...in light of the other night...it would be better if our paths didn’t cross so much.’
‘Understood.’ He took a step away, then turned. ‘It was only a kiss, Lola. We can move on.’
‘Of course. Yes! Only a kiss! I’ve already moved on. No problem!’ As if she kissed people she’d just met all the time.
Only a kiss, yes. But a very nice one at that. And she didn’t kiss strangers. Ever. She didn’t kiss random men. She didn’t kiss men she thought were just okay. She kissed men she liked. And she liked Jake. That was a massive part of the problem. She liked him. Too much, it seemed. ‘You’d better go get changed then.’
While she wandered into the open-plan kitchen, he disappeared into a bathroom, returning moments later with a white towel looped round his shoulders, beach shorts slung low over slender hips. She tried very hard not to look, she really did, but she couldn’t help it. He was there, walking across the room, larger than life. Her gaze travelled upwards from his hips, past a smattering of dark hair, tanned washboard abs, a broad chest, to a smirking mouth.
For a few seconds she remembered the taste of him. The heat. And she clung to the kitchen countertop as the same heat shimmered through her. How the hell would she be able to stay here with that kind of reaction going on?
And when her eyes settled on his she knew that it was going to be almost impossible. There was humour there in his eyes, and teasing, and it fired an unwanted need in her core.
She dragged her eyes away, found a voice, albeit fractured. ‘Enjoy.’
‘You look like you just did.’ He winked. ‘See you later.’
LOLA WAS PROUD of herself. She’d managed to spend the rest of the day in avoidance mode. Had eaten dinner with Jake and Cameron, which had passed pleasantly enough with small talk and chit-chat about movies and brain surgery—although, Lola noticed, he hadn’t offered to show Cameron how to do wide-awake surgery with chopsticks, and he was just a little more reserved around the actress.
Then Lola had taken the dogs for a late-night walk on her own, and had returned to find a quiet lodge. Jake had gone to bed and there’d been no further awkward conversation. She’d fallen asleep after only a couple of hours lying in bed wondering what the hell tomorrow would bring.
And thinking about his mouth. That body. That smile.
In the next damned room.
And how she was going to survive being stuck in close proximity to him?
After her morning puppy walk she returned to find the interconnecting phone ringing and no Jake in sight. Thank God. ‘Hello!’
‘Lola, honey, it’s me.’
‘Hi, Cameron! Beautiful day.’
‘Sure is. Listen, Alfredo wants to take me on a boat trip to one of the private islands this morning, meet some of his friends. Take care of the babies, will you? They wouldn’t be safe on a boat. I’ll be back after lunch, then we can all go to the set.’
‘Of course. Have fun. See you later.’
‘Was that Cameron?’ Jake’s voice behind her made her heart bounce to a jerky beat.
She steadied it before turning to find him dressed in workout gear and slightly out of breath. After yesterday’s staring faux pas she’d promised herself not to look too closely, so settled on trying to get the swanky coffee machine to work. She fiddled with the little shiny plastic capsules, chose a silver one, popped it in. ‘Coffee?’
‘Yes, thanks.’
‘Been for a run?’
‘Working out. There’s a gym in the basement up at the house. I thought I might see Cameron there, but she didn’t appear. What’s the plan?’ He wandered to the cabinet, pulled out a cup. Back in her line of vision. He looked sweaty, arm muscles pumped. Hair dishevelled. All kinds of hot. No. Not looking.
‘Cameron probably worked out last night—she prefers to do it in the evenings. She’s going out, back around noon, then we’re to accompany her to the set.’
Jake was staring at her with a strange look on his face, which he wiped as soon as he realised she was watching him. ‘So we have a free morning?’
‘Just Cameron-free. Three hours or so.’ Lola added skimmed milk to her coffee and started making his. Trying not to make eye contact. It felt as if she’d said something wrong, but couldn’t put her finger on anything relevant. Or maybe it was just the kiss hovering between them again. She needed to get out. ‘I have a ton of stuff to do. Actually, I’ll go and make a start.’
His hand on her wrist stopped her, his heat seeping into her skin and through her body. ‘You haven’t had your coffee, Lola.’
‘Thanks. No. Well...I can take it with...’ She couldn’t take her eyes off his hand, long fingers, neat nails. Skilled and powerful, whether holding chopsticks, a scalpel or probes. Hands that had cupped her face so intensely.
Yes, that kiss was definitely there, the huge elephant in the room. She swallowed deeply.
He looked down and hurriedly drew his hand away from her wrist. And she wanted to grab his hand and put it right back, but he pulled out some croissants from the bread bin. ‘I’m never going to survive on a skinny actress’s rabbit food. I asked the chef to get something decent for us to eat. You want some? I won’t tell anyone, it’ll be our secret?’
‘No, thanks.’
He watched her. ‘You don’t like them or don’t want them? Two different things.’
‘I’m
