‘Does it make you want to tear off your clothes and throw yourself at me?’ he asked her.
‘Pretty much.’
He pressed his lips to hers, more firmly this time. Threading his fingers through her hair, he kissed her until her body started to vibrate against him.
‘Then be my guest,’ he murmured.
35
Come, gentlemen, I hope we shall drink
down all unkindness
– The Merry Wives of Windsor
‘I’m so glad you guys have worked things out.’ Jenn sat down on the sunlounger next to Lucy’s, huffing as she held her bump and swung her legs on to the chair. She and Grant had arrived in Miami the previous evening, having spent a few days looking for apartments near her new job at the University of Florida. While he and Lachlan spent the morning working in the business suite of the Greyson Hotel, Lucy had decided to take advantage of the warm sun, and had made her home next to the sparkling pool, overlooking the hotel’s private beach.
‘So am I,’ Lucy agreed, pulling her sunglasses over her eyes to block out the sun. ‘It was touch-and-go there for a while.’
‘Can I bring you ladies a drink?’ The waiter stopped beside them, clad in white shorts and a grey polo, a small insignia of the hotel stitched into the pocket.
‘Yes please. Can I have a daiquiri?’ Lucy smiled at him.
‘Sure.’
‘Very retro,’ Jenn teased. ‘And I’ll have a water, please. Notice how that almost rhymes with martyr? Which is exactly what I’ve been for the past six months.’
‘But it’ll all be worth it,’ Lucy said, watching as the waiter headed over to the pool bar. A shack, topped by what looked like a thatched roof, it had the 1980s cocktail scene written all over it.
‘So they tell me,’ Jenn said, her smile belying her dry tone. ‘Though it’s amazing how slowly the months have passed. It seems like forever since I last saw you.’
The waiter arrived, passing a tall glass of water to Jenn, then placing Lucy’s cocktail on the table beside her lounger. It was a deep red, topped with a strawberry and a straw, and of course there was an orange paper umbrella propped against the side of the glass. It looked deliciously kitsch.
‘So anyway, back to you and Lachlan,’ Jenn said, as Lucy sipped at her drink. ‘He’s a great guy, and you’re really good for him. Grant said he hasn’t seen him this happy in years. He says he has this goofy grin on his face in their meetings.’
Lucy couldn’t help but feel herself lighting up at Jenn’s words. He made her deliriously happy, too. Every time he walked into a room it felt as though the world started to make sense. Without him, she felt off-kilter.
‘Oh my God, you’re grinning, just like Lachlan.’ Jenn spluttered out the water she was drinking. ‘Man, you both have it bad.’
‘Yep,’ Lucy agreed. And she couldn’t find anything wrong with that.
‘Who has it bad?’ A shadow fell across them. Lucy looked up to see Lachlan standing at the end of her lounger, with Grant beside him. Both men were wearing suits, practical for business, completely impractical in the already-hot Miami sunshine. It was pushing eighty degrees, hot enough for Lucy’s body to take on a sheen of perspiration as she lay there. She watched as Lachlan’s gaze flickered to her, taking in the black and white bikini she was wearing, and the skin it revealed.
‘We do,’ Lucy said, her voice deadpan. ‘Lying here doing nothing is hard work.’
He sat down on the end of her lounger, lifting her feet onto his lap. His hands stroked her skin, caressing, touching. She giggled when he found a sensitive spot on her instep.
‘You know, you guys could have changed out of your suits,’ Jenn pointed out. ‘You look like sugar daddies or something.’
Lachlan caught Lucy’s eye. He smiled warmly at her, and she found herself grinning back. Was it always going to be like this? The intense attraction, coupled with the way she felt like she was the only woman he could see, was making her temperature rise more than the blazing sun. ‘Sugar daddies,’ he repeated, his eyes crinkling. ‘What does that make you ladies then?’
Lucy shrugged, still looking into his eyes. Behind him, there were a line of palm trees, separating the pool area from the beach. Beyond the stretch of pale golden sand, she could see the ocean, as vividly blue as his irises. ‘Maybe it makes us sensible.’
‘Which is a lot better than whores, which is where I think he was going,’ Jenn pointed out. ‘And anyway, we’re professional women, we make our own money. We don’t need you guys.’ She clocked Grant’s mock-wounded expression. ‘But luckily for you we want you anyway.’
Lachlan moved his hands from Lucy’s feet, caressing her ankles with slow circles of his thumb. As much as she and Jenn were making fun of their suits, somehow he managed to fit in with the
Miami vibe. Maybe it was the sunglasses slung casually in his suit pocket, or the way he’d taken off his tie and unbuttoned his crisp, white shirt. ‘You’re like a chameleon,’ she said to him, wiggling her feet with pleasure as he continued to massage her. ‘You fit in wherever you go. In New York you look all polished and businesslike, and here you look like a sexy lounge lizard. How do you do that?’