Another weekend was the beginning of an arrangement and it was only sixty-two days till he was back on set, he had work to do on the anti-piracy project and Teela had a full calendar herself.
He wasn’t going to forget her, but too much of her and he might run out of breathing room altogether.
ELEVEN
The last time Teela was on a boat on Sydney Harbour it was a ferry ride from the city to Manly with a thousand other people. She’d never cruised the harbor in a private yacht and picnicked and swum at a beach only accessible by water. And it wasn’t likely she ever would again. It was a wonderful experience: the glamorous boat, frolicking in the sea with a man who looked amazing wet, the incredible lunch, even though halfway through the cruise Haydn disappeared down below to take a phone call.
When he joined her again, it was with an apology. “That was the call I thought I’d blown. I have to go take a meeting.” He put his arm around her shoulders and kissed her temple. “I’m sorry to cut this short.”
This? Did he mean the cruise, the weekend? He left her in wet swimmers with her heart dragging around her ankles to go talk to Rick.
Two days ago, she’d been ready to send the Sexiest Man Alive on his way when he arrived in her office with his one-night stand extension offer. She watched him talk animatedly with Rick. He didn’t look like a man who was sorry to have to shoot back to the hotel and climb into a suit on a Sunday afternoon.
Now her first instinct was to wonder how long he’d be and it made her stomach turn over.
In two nights and one and a half days, she’d gone from it’s not a good idea to spend more time together to how long till I can touch you again.
Clouds might as well have covered the endless blue sky. The sea might as well have lost its sparkle and turned gray and choppy, seagulls rained bird shit on them. The bad weather was in her head.
You big dope. You knew this would happen.
She’d fallen for the whole Haydn Delany world of romance. It should’ve been comic. Feeling like you might toss your partially digested lobster lunch back into the sea was funny, but it was also tragic.
He was going to be impossible to get over.
The thing to do was not to add to the problem. Not to wait around for a few more hours of his attention. No matter how tempting one last orgasm might be, she hadn’t planned to stay the night. With a full day in the office Monday, she needed proper sleep to be on her game. Starting the week with a walk of shame, even an epically Hollywood-proportioned one wasn’t best practice.
Better to say goodbye when they got back to the hotel. That way she’d have time to hit the supermarket and stock up on all the snack foods necessary to soothe an own-goal heartache. A session with a tub of Maggie Beer’s honeycomb, caramel and burnt fig
ice-cream was as good a way as any to start her recovery process.
That and a recount of the weekend’s highlights for Evie to start getting Haydn out of her system.
She really would never be able to watch him on screen again without thinking of him sucking her clit and making her come.
Bugger it. He was utterly unexpected, and he would never be entirely out of her system. The movie he’d star in now would be the one running on an endless loop behind her closed eyes as she made herself come.
They traveled back to the city with the sails down under motor. Haydn joined her at the bow, sitting behind her to bring her against his body. She leaned back into him as they pulled past Fort Denison and approached Woolloomooloo Wharf, where Hassan would be waiting.
“You’re thinking about Monday,” he said.
“Returning to the real world.”
“Will you wait for me? Have dinner. Stay the night.”
The sun glinting off office towers was near blinding even behind her sunglasses. Made her eyes water. “I should go.” She had to cough first to get those words out.
He buried his face in her shoulder and neck, hugging her a little tighter. “What if I beg?”
She reached back and ruffled his hair. “I’ve had an amazing weekend. We both know that’s all it was ever going to be.”
He put his hand to her throat, brought her head back to his chest and spoke softly against her ear, making her shiver. “This is me begging, Teela. I’m not ready for this to be the end. Wait for me, please.”
She turned to face him, threading her legs under his raised knees, looping her arms around his neck. He wore boardshorts, his sunglasses were pushed to the top of his head, his hair had gone a little mad and stuck up in places from being full of salt water, and his pale blue eyes were fixed on her.
“Your begging could do with some workshopping.”
He tucked a strand of hair that was blowing about behind her ear. “I’ve not played this role before. I can do better, if you give me the chance.”