‘Then you’d better start the engine.’ She tossed the silk pyjama top onto the back seat.
His engine was running red-hot already. And now she was wriggling out of the trousers…
‘You’ll burn your skin,’ he said quickly. ‘Your breasts.’ All that creaminess. He couldn’t bear to see it sun-damaged.
‘I’m still wearing my bra.’
Yeah, but there was still too much skin—and she had no panties on. And he was finding it impossible to concentrate on the road.
She pushed her sunglasses up her nose and leaned back in the seat, a smile on her lips. But the heightened colour in her cheeks—that was embarrassment.
She was so damn independent—spirited, and determined to make a point. And she was so full of spontaneity.
He liked this side of her. A lot. And if that was the way she wanted to play it, who was he to argue?
Except he had to drive. He had to get them back to the hotel as fast as possible.
He glared at the road ahead. The sight in his peripheral vision was killing him. It wasn’t just the nudity—the undeniable beauty of her—it was that attitude. That was what had him harder than rock.
‘Put the jacket back on. You don’t want to get sunburnt,’ he all but pleaded five minutes later.
‘Or get more freckles?’ She nodded, but didn’t reach for the jacket.
‘You don’t like them? That’s why you cover them up with make-up?’ He laughed. ‘I like them. I like going dot-to-dot with my tongue.’
Her lips parted as she drew in an audible breath. ‘You make a case for letting them stay uncovered…’
He braked and pulled over to the side of the road.
‘I won’t forgive myself if you get sunburnt. The drive back is going to take too long…’ And he wasn’t going to make it. ‘Stephanie…’ He thought desperately. ‘You know the sun is harsher here.’ He looked down at her beautiful body. ‘Pleased.’
‘Do you know about all the hazards in every country in the world?’ she asked, relenting and pulling the pyjama top across her lap.
He sighed in relief and pulled back out onto the road again. ‘I read through each book as it comes off the printer.’
‘Every one? Every edition?’
‘The buck stops with me. I’m known for my ability to spot typos that three proof-readers have missed.’
‘They must love getting those emails from you.’
‘Oh, I don’t email.’ He laughed at her dry tone. ‘I call a face-to-face meeting and yell at them.’
She giggled. ‘You so don’t.’
‘What do you think I do?’
‘You flatten them with a look.’
‘You think?’
‘You can do the most withering arctic stare ever. I bet they dread it. You’d go all quiet and just look disappointed.’
He laughed, but oddly she was right. ‘I have good staff—they don’t like to screw up. They know they have the best job in the world. Everyone who works for the company gets to travel. It’s part of the deal.’
‘Even the proof-readers?’
‘And the PAs. And the receptionist at head office… everyone.’
She looked amazed. ‘And you too—all the time?’
‘A lot—yeah. I have a desk in all our offices. I like to keep moving. Keep them all on their toes.’
‘Is there anywhere you haven’t been?’
Was that envy in her voice?
‘So many places,’ he admitted. ‘I try not to return to the same place unless I absolutely have to. Obviously I have meetings in the majors… but the only other place I regularly return to—apart from home—is Indonesia.’
‘To that orphanage?’
He nodded.
‘Why that one?’
He hesitated as he turned into the track that would take them to their hidden forest paradise. ‘I was born in Indonesia. It’s only by sheer luck that I wasn’t one of those kids. I had a mother who couldn’t cope. A father who…’ He paused. ‘Who was never in the picture. I was adopted by the Wolfes. I was very lucky.’
He had been. He knew it. And he didn’t want to hurt his family by telling them of this search for his birth father. But he needed answers. It was as if there was this one tiny gap deep inside him and he didn’t know how to fill it. Even though he knew he had the love of his adoptive mother and father and brothers, that he had friends, that he had an amazing career… had it all.
Yet that gap remained.
And it was filled with fear. But knowledge—as always—was the key. He now had a report that didn’t make great bedtime reading. So he’d meet the man—find out the truth for himself.