She needed to concentrate or she would fall into the abyss—both literally and metaphorically. Plus, no way should she miss out on an experience like this; these caves were a once in a lifetime... And there went her stupid brain again. Reinterpreting her every thought to bring her back to the idea of sleeping with Adam.
Consigning all such thoughts to perdition, Olivia edged along a bamboo plank, the rush of adrenaline adding to her already skittering nerves. She followed Adam along narrow passageways, scrambled over ancient rocks slippery with underground water and marvelled over a darkness that had never been so much as touched by sunlight.
And all the time the warm bulk of Adam’s body both reassured and tantalised her. The whole journey was taking on a hidden depth of meaning as the heavy air of the cave made her dizzy. It wasn’t only affecting her, either—she was sure of it. Adam was mostly silent, though always there, steadying her at the exact moment she needed it. But his face, dimly shadowed and dappled by torchlight, held a suppressed urgency, visible in the set of his jaw and the slant of his brows.
‘Ooh...’ Olivia gasped as she stepped through the narrowest of entrances into a cavernous chamber. It was magnificent; the domed ceilings must have been carved by some god of nature to create such a mystical vault.
Filled with awe, she trailed her fingers along the cold, damp stone.
‘Look at these,’ she said, and pointed up at the almost implausible stalagmite formations. ‘I’ve never seen anything like them. That shape there—it looks like some sort of guardian...a gargoyle who guards the entrance. They must be ancient.’
Adam nodded. ‘I used to stare at them for hours. If you look at them long enough they sizzle your brain.’
Olivia turned to him. ‘I thought you were a tour guide.’
‘I was. But my first foray into these caves was...’ He shrugged. ‘Unauthorised. This place—it’s a great place to...’ He shrugged, rocking back on the balls of his feet. ‘Think.’
‘I can see that,’ Olivia said, and she could—could see an image of a younger, teenaged Adam, all gangly limbs and overlong dark hair, coming to these caves to brood. Perhaps to wish he could stay longer with the people who had been like family to him. Gan, Saru and his parents. That much she’d gleaned from snippets Saru had let slip over the past days—that and the fact that Zeb had been a pretty much absent parent, spending more time in retreat, leaving his son to his own devices until he was ready to move on again.
Olivia gulped, suddenly aware of the sear of his gaze. ‘What are you thinking now?’
‘You don’t want to know.’ A rueful smile tugged his lips as he turned his body away. ‘Trust me.’
His words echoed through the air, bounced off the strata and into her consciousness. Trust him.
Pinning her shoulders back, she sucked in the musky air. ‘Actually, I do want to know.’
He swivelled back round on one foot and studied her expression for a long moment. His brown eyes were dark and serious; his face was streaked with loam and age-old grime. ‘I was thinking how very much I want you,’ he said simply.
‘You do?’ Encrusted mud dislodged as she raised her eyebrows.
‘Yes, Liv, I do. Bit of an open secret.’
Adam’s velvet growl smoothed over her skin.
‘I thought—’ Olivia broke off.
‘You thought what?’
‘That we were past that. Especially after the other night.’
Adam frowned. ‘What happened the other night?’
‘Well, I fell asleep in all my clothes and probably snored the night away, the following morning I looked like a cross between a bird’s nest and something the cat dragged in, and since then—well, we’ve shared a house.’
‘And sharing a house kills attraction?’ He dropped his mouth in mock horror. ‘It’s because you’ve seen me wielding a dustpan and brush, isn’t it? My macho image is gone for ever.’
Her lips tipped up in a smile. ‘Don’t be ridiculous. It’s me. The last few days I’ve wandered the house in scruffy pyjamas before I’ve even brushed my hair. And who knows what I look like now?’
Adam tilted his headlamp and studied her. ‘Well, you have clay streaking your cheekbones like some sort of warrior markings and mud smudged across the freckles on your nose.’
‘Great! I rest my case. You can’t possibly want me looking like this.’
‘You don’t get it, do you?’ He gestured at the air between them. ‘This spark we have—it doesn’t get cancelled out by tangled hair or rabbit pyjamas or mud. Trust me.’