Hot Boss, Wicked Nights

She was probably right, but not about the pumpkin. Yes, they needed some privacy, some time apart—being together 24/7 for nine days might be overdoing it—but there was more going on here. ‘What did he do to you?’

Her gaze flickered a moment. ‘Who?’

‘I’m asking you, Kate.’

She looked away. ‘My ex-fiancé. Nick. He made a fool of me. Didn’t we just agree to no personal history?’

Damon touched her cheek, turned her face towards him, wanting to erase the sadness in her eyes, wanting to ease the vulnerability he read there. ‘He was the fool, Kate, not you.’

‘Yes, well… I’m wiser now. I’m not interested in long term.’ Shaking her head, she made an effort to sound upbeat, closing the discussion with, ‘So is the daytime-night-time activities thingy still on?’

She’d never make a good poker player. ‘Yes.’ He smiled into her eyes. ‘I’ve planned tomorrow already.’

‘Have you now?’ It was her turn to smile. Wickedly. She shifted towards him, then rose up on her knees to slide her lush mouth over his. ‘I’ve got tonight planned as well.’

‘Ah,’ Kate murmured the following day as they left the hotel lobby and approached the gleaming Harley-Davidson motorbike Damon had hired for the afternoon. ‘This’ll be a new experience.’

‘Yeah,’ he murmured, admiring her fitted white calf-length trousers and sapphire top, her dark hair braided close to her head. They’d spent last night exploring each other—until he’d trundled down the hall to his own room—now it was time to explore Bali. And he’d have that body snug against him all the way.

He handed her a helmet, then retrieved a couple of heavy leather jackets from the back of the bike and held one out to her. ‘You’ll need this for protection.’

‘Okay…’ The thing swamped her and her brow wrinkled as she shrugged it on. ‘I look ridiculous.’

‘No.’ He reached out to pull it together and fasten the zip. His knuckles grazed her firm, flat abdomen and the curve of her breasts as he tugged the zipper slowly to her neck and lingered there a second or two enjoying the sweet warmth of her pulse while watching her dark eyes frowning into his. ‘You look sexy. Adorably sexy.’

Her eyes turned black and for a moment the thought of going back to her room was a sizzling possibility, but she pulled on her helmet, and the eye contact was lost. ‘Do you have a destination in mind?’

‘Yes.’ He straddled the bike, holding it steady while she climbed on behind him.

‘Are you going to fill me in?’

‘Not yet. Just hold on tight, lean into me and move with the bike and you’ll be fine.’

‘Okay.’

Damon kept it sedate, giving her time to adjust to the bike and an opportunity to enjoy the local scenery. The wind sneaked through his visor as he picked up speed and turned onto a road off the beaten tourist track following the coast in a westerly direction.

Kate’s breasts were pressed hard against his back—he could feel her shape through the leather jacket. Her inner thighs hugged his hips. He liked the way her hands gripped his jacket, liked the feeling of sharing the moment with her, as if they were the only two people in the world. He hadn’t experienced that feeling in a long time.

Eventually he drew to a stop near a break in the foliage, killed the engine and removed his helmet. ‘Take a look.’

Through tropical green palms a brilliant lapis sea scrolled over stunning volcanic black sand. A sheltered cove, deserted and private. He’d discovered this place on a previous trip, but sharing it with Kate was like seeing it through new eyes.

‘My black sand beach.’ He heard her sigh of approval as she unwrapped her hands and lifted the helmet from her head. ‘It’s spectacular.’

‘You need to experience it up close,’ he said, unloading the small cooler pack containing Asian spring rolls and a bottle of water. Grabbing her hand, he led her through the palms that dipped almost to the water’s edge.

Kate breathed deeply, drawing the humidity with its scent of the beach into her lungs. Not another living soul to be seen. All this sand, all that water, and just her and Damon to share it. Alone.

Damon unzipped his jacket; she did the same. They sat, yanked off their shoes. Then he surged up, tugged his T-shirt over his head and unsnapped the top of his jeans and grinned at her. Clearly he expected her to balk at the idea of stripping off.

‘I can be adventurous,’ she said with a lift of her chin. But she glanced about them nevertheless.

‘Black beaches are not as popular.’ He shucked his jeans. ‘We’ve got the place to ourselves.’