To Love Honour and Disobey

And the one thing he couldn’t forget now was the feel of her. He tumbled out of the Jeep and walked to the truck to get a drink. Cool himself down from the inside out before he tried to burn more of the bloody frustration with some football. But there was no way in hell football could burn off the energy in his body.

Ana assembled the tent in record time, desperate to build herself a hidey-hole even if for only a few minutes. Quickly she crawled inside and then zipped up the flap. She breathed hard, sweating. A day jammed up hard next to Sebastian without actually having him was enough to exhaust any woman. Her insides were all shook up and it wasn’t from the bumpy road. She stared at the faded green tent fabric. Despite the tiredness, sleep felt miles away. Memories and words, both said and unsaid, spun round and round in her brain like a mad merry-go-round.

She ached to shut it down; even more she ached to be able to switch off the ‘on’ button that Seb’s mere presence had fired. As if Africa weren’t hot enough? Why did he have to come along and up the mercury another thirty degrees or so with his soft touches and all-seeing eyes? Every tiny touch made her skin spark and now she ached.

Sweat that had gathered at the base of her hairline trickled in an irritatingly slow way down her neck, eventually pooling between her breasts—breasts that felt big and heavy and tender. She longed for a shower— for cool water endlessly gushing from a gleaming chrome head. The fantasy was almost as good as the other one playing in the back of her mind—the one where she wasn’t getting cooler but hotter and the source of the spike wasn’t a shower or a spa but one potent man.

Neither were achievable options right now. OK, so she could go have a shower, but that would mean walking out in public—past the footballers—and she was too wobbly. But she did have one luxury. Wet wipes. The best thing she’d brought with her to Africa. She’d use a few—give herself a sponge bath with the delicately scented, blessedly cool wipes.

She undid her bikini top and peeled it from her sticky body. Popped the plastic lid and pulled some of the small white squares from the container. She sat cross-legged on the groundsheet and closed her eyes, simple relief sweeping her as she slid the damp tissues over her too hot, too sensitive skin.

The buzzing sound was loud and fast. She froze mid-swipe. Suddenly moved to pick up her top but he moved faster—his hand grasping hers, holding it out away from her bared body. With his other hand he quickly slid the zip down behind him, sealing them in the tent.

‘I thought you were going to play football,’ she said quickly.

‘I…needed…to get…’ He took his time answering.

Eventually she prompted, ‘Get what?’

‘I don’t know.’His eyes were wide and filled with fire.

‘Sebastian.’ She tried to shake her head but the heat washed over her, melting her ability to move.

He didn’t look as if he’d heard anyway. The hunger in his gaze fired an equal hunger deep within her. Her nipples budded—practically screamed for his touch—tight and hard. Her breasts were heavy and full. Despite everything she wanted him to reach out to her, to cup them, to kiss them. To relieve the agonising torment that was this desire.

The muscles in his jaw worked as he clenched his teeth. Slowly his eyes lifted to meet hers. The fever burned between them. She heard the low growl as he turned and got out of the tent faster than a striking snake.

Ana tipped right over where she was, planting her face in the soft, suffocating sleeping bag. What the hell was she doing? She pulled on a new sloppy tee and went out. He was far away from the others viciously kicking a ball at a tree, hitting it with unerring precision. Time and time again. She walked over to him.

He glanced at her and immediately away. ‘Don’t come near me now.’

She halted. ‘Why not?’

‘Because I want to kiss you. I want to do more than kiss you.’

Thwack. The ball hit the tree again. And her legs could hardly hold her up.

‘You have no idea what I want to do to you,’ he muttered. Fists clenched, muscles bulging, his bare torso shone with sweat. He was primed.

Heat flooded in her most secret places. And she was the one panting like the one doing the crazy workout in the heat of the afternoon.

He stopped, stood with his hands on his hips and glared at her. ‘We started something back then, Ana. And for me it isn’t over. I thought it was. But it isn’t.’ He gave the ball a mighty kick. ‘But I don’t want to mess either of us around again. So don’t come near me.’

Chapter Four

EVERY time Ana looked up Seb was looking at her. The odd moments he was talking to someone else she watched him. Invariably he caught her at it, as she did him. Their eyes simply wouldn’t stray from each other for too long. It wasn’t a thread between them, it was a big, thick rope winding tighter and tighter.