He tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Expect what?”
“All this kissing.”
He chuckles. “You don’t like kissing?”
“I didn’t say that. I thought we would be more… businesslike.” I honestly thought we’d meet in the evenings, have sex, and that would be the extent of our connection.
He holds my chin and brushes his thumb across my bottom lip. “I’m very conscious of our arrangement,” he says softly. “I know what you require from me, and I’m happy to supply it. The kissing’s extra.” He gives me an amused look, bends and picks up his phone, and leaves the room.
I pout and pick up my purse. The kissing’s extra. I should have written out a contract and gotten him to sign it, forcing him to stick to the terms.
Chapter Fifteen
Fitz
We eat our breakfast outside, sipping our coffee while seagulls swoop overhead and the sea crashes on the rocks.
Poppy sits under an umbrella, presumably worried about catching the sun. I’m wearing sunglasses, so I’m able to study her without her knowing. She reads off her phone while she crunches her toast, scooping up loose crumbs off her lip with her finger into her mouth. Her hair is struggling to remain bound by the elastic, and loose strands lift around her face in the early morning breeze.
I’m tempted to take the band from her hair, strip off all her clothes, and make love to her out here, on the patch of grass around the lighthouse. I can’t believe I’m hot for her again when it’s been less than an hour since we’ve had sex. But I am. I don’t know why I find her so sexy. I think maybe it’s her naivety, the way she’s surprised by everything I do. It’s as if I’ve taken her to Disneyland, and she’s walking around permanently dazed by all the bright lights and colors.
“Stop staring at me,” she says without looking up.
“How can you tell? I’m wearing sunglasses.”
“I can feel your eyes on me like lasers.”
I chuckle and return my gaze to my phone. “Sorry. You look luscious sitting there, that’s all.”
“Hardly,” she says, running a hand over her hair. “It’s gone all flyaway this morning. I should have braided it.”
I pull up a picture on my phone of Jack wearing a wig with ginger braids, and show it to her. “Like this?”
She bursts out laughing. “Oh my God, poor Jack! Did you do that to him?”
“It was Halloween. He wanted to join in.”
“Aw, the poor pup. Are you missing him?”
“I am, actually. It’s funny not having him under my feet all the time. Mind you, I’ve been a bit busy to notice.”
She gives me a wry look and returns to her phone. “Not my fault if you can’t keep it in your pants.”
“You can’t blame it. It’s like a lion that’s escaped from the zoo after years of captivity.”
She laughs, and I smile. My work here is done.
“Shall we get going soon?” I ask her, and she nods and finishes off her toast.
“I’ll drop you off,” she says, “and then I’m heading over to the petting farm on the other side of Hastings. I’ll be back mid-afternoon, probably.”
“Okay.”
We take the breakfast things in and wash up, gather our stuff, and go to the car. Soon we’re heading toward the Ark.
Poppy’s driving today, which gives me free rein to look out of the window and admire the landscape. It’s almost as beautiful as in the Bay of Islands—almost, but not quite. Although I spent a few years here, I much prefer it up in the bay. I suppose memories of that time don’t help.
“Penny for them,” Poppy says.
I sigh. “I was thinking about last time I was in Hawke’s Bay.”
“About Mel?”
“Yes and no. I remember it as being a dark time, despite the fact that I was engaged to Mel. The more I think about it, the more I’m not surprised she canceled the wedding. I was so angry during that time. Not at her, but resentful that my career had been cut short, and frustrated that I’d lost my physicality. It was important to me at the time—all the sport. I used to run for an hour every morning.”