She looked tiny and vulnerable and impossibly young in that whimsical little-girl dress framed by the dark floor-to-ceiling slatted doors. A thread of remorse tugged at his conscience. ‘Kate.’
She didn’t turn around so he couldn’t read her mood on her face, but the starch had gone from her posture and her hands were curled against her sides.
When she remained as she was, he stopped a couple of paces behind her. ‘Look at me, Kate.’
He saw her hands tighten, and when she turned there was no trace of vulnerability he might have imagined he’d see in her expression. But over-bright eyes betrayed her. Anger? Hurt? Or a determined pride to face him on her terms. He didn’t know; all he knew was it tore him up inside.
Purely unintentionally, his gaze dipped to the curve of her breasts, her slim waist and down to perfectly shaped legs visible through the thin fabric—and despite the cool salty breeze his blood turned hot.
He forced his eyes back to hers. ‘I want you, Kate.’ His heart beat oddly when he said her name.
She shook her head, swiping at tears, and he could tell she was mad as hell about them. He wasn’t aware of taking those last couple of steps, but suddenly he was hauling her willowy body against his, loving the plumpness of her breasts against his chest, the way her small frame fitted against him.
‘No.’ She struggled to free herself from his grasp. ‘Not with unresolved tension between us.’
He wiped the moisture from below her lashes with his thumbs and, looking deep into those midnight eyes, he said, ‘It’ll be okay, Kate, I’ll make it okay. All the way okay. Just tell me what’s wrong.’
And he lowered his lips to hers, sliding his fingers beneath her hair so he could cradle her head in his palm and know, feel, she wanted this as much as he. For a beat out of time his lips tingled with her taste as her mouth softened beneath his.
Then she pushed at him again, jerking them out of the moment and sucking in air. ‘You don’t want me—you just want sex.’
Desire sparked bright and hot in her eyes. ‘If we’re talking honest and open here, that’s what we both want,’ he said calmly and with absolute certainty.
Her nostrils flared at that as she drew in a sharp breath and drilled a finger into his chest. ‘Guys like you always think sex is the answer.’
He smiled, safe in the knowledge that some of her steam had evaporated since her voice had lost its hard edge and taken on a husky tone. ‘What happened to make love not war? It always works for me.’ Until he moved on. ‘And what do you mean by guys like me?’
She frowned. ‘Guys who…you know damn well what I mean.’
He shrugged, which earned him a glare. ‘I’m not sure I do.’
She had him pegged. But for some reason where Kate was concerned, he didn’t feel the self-image fitted as well as it always had. Unsettling.
The glare stayed in place. Risking retribution, he reached out and stroked her cheek. ‘And if you think sex is all I want from you, Kate, you’re wrong.’
She made a point of looking at his engorged Lycra-covered crotch, which proved him a liar.
‘Hey, give a guy a break.’ He just knew he shouldn’t have worn bike shorts this morning. ‘I never said I didn’t want sex, I said it wasn’t all I wanted from you.’ Yet perhaps the fact that she could see how physically aroused he was could work in his favour. ‘What’s more, I’ll prove it to you.’
A pause, then a rusty, ‘Yeah, right, and how exactly do you propose to do that?’
‘By not having sex with you.’
That threw her, he thought, with little satisfaction to his personal discomfort. The vertical crease between her brows was back. She blinked up at him, disappointment creeping into her eyes as she processed his words. ‘I didn’t—’
‘You can’t have it both ways, Kate.’
Her mouth remained slightly parted as if she intended to finish whatever she’d been saying, but she must have thought better of it.
He watched her turn away to face the sea once more, her arms folded across her chest. She wasn’t the only one disappointed. Before he’d thought it through, his mouth had run away from the rest of him. And the rest of him howled a stiff protest.
But he’d made the right decision. Actions spoke louder than any words. Or, in this instance, inaction.
‘I’m going to take a shower,’ he said. ‘Then after we’ve had our little talk, if you’re feeling up to it we could go exploring. Or laze around the pool—whatever you’re comfortable with.’
She didn’t turn around. ‘That’s your choice for today’s activity?’