To Love Honour and Disobey

‘No.’ She shook her head and laughed.

‘We get a lot of models stay here. And you have the height, you are as beautiful—if not more so. So I thought…’ His smile was even wider.

Oh, please.

‘Actually—’ Ana smiled brightly back at him and pointed to Seb ‘—he’s the model.’

The butler took that one in his stride, inclined his head and left them to discover their accommodation alone.

Ana turned to face the laughing Seb. ‘How much did you pay him?’

Seb held his hands up in innocence. ‘Nothing.’

Yeah, right.

‘Come on,’ he challenged. ‘Let’s check out the facilities.’

In other words go straight to the bedroom.

The view out over the Indian Ocean was open and stunning, and yet there was complete privacy. The furniture was intricately carved and there was comfort in everything. But her bones melted at the sight of the bed—so wide and big.

But it could barely be halfway to midday. As if Seb cared. He ripped off the beautiful white coverings, leaving just the pure cotton sheet on the bed. He looked at the sheet, looked across at her.

‘What do you say, Ana?’

‘I say there’s still a bit of the pirate in you, Seb.’ But she couldn’t stop the smile. ‘Race you to the water.’ She flew out the open door down the small strip of sand and splashed into the water, uncaring about her shorts and tee getting another complete soaking. She heard his laugh and dive and licked her lips. Saltwater Seb was a flavour she adored.

Uncaring of the water streaming from her clothes, she walked back inside, peeled off her wet tee shirt and shorts and rubbed the sand from her feet—refusing to ruin the whiter than white linen on the magnificent bed. The sheets smelled so fresh and the bed was soft but not saggy and so easy to stretch out on. Irresistible. She closed her eyes, spread her arms wide and enjoyed the sensation as the faintest of breezes teased dry her damp skin.

Hands on her ankles pulled, yanking her body down over the smooth sheets so her feet dangled over the edge. She opened her eyes and found his laughing right into hers.

‘That’s what you’re used to, isn’t it?’ His hands slid higher up her legs, creating instant heat. ‘Your feet hanging over the edge of the bed.’

‘But they don’t have to in this one.’

‘No.’ He lifted her and put her back in the middle of the bed. Took each limb, one by one and spread them so she lay like a starfish. Mesmerised by the look in his eyes, she let him. He ran a finger under the instep of her foot.

‘They’re huge.’ She arched it.

‘If they were any smaller, you’d fall over.’

She laughed. Too true.

‘Your feet are perfect. Your legs are perfect. No one could resist the silken feel of your skin and your waist is so tiny, your ribs.’ He spread his hand across her. ‘You think you’re such a giant when, really, you’re very fragile.’ His fingers traced lower. ‘Like this, when did you get this?’

Her scar. His fingers underlined her scar. The pleasure she felt from his appraisal disappeared. She forced down the wave of panic. Could think of only one way to avoid the question. She rose to her knees. ‘I’m not fragile.’

He was already naked, already aroused and it took nothing to distract them both. Kissing did it—would always do it, she supposed—the physical chemistry was sublime. And in that moment every last one of her reservations fled. This was nothing but a fantasy fling and she refused to let the past reality destroy the moment. She would indulge, have what she wanted—and all of it—on this magical island. She stretched out, so hot, and gloried in his sexual demand.

As he took possession she let her head and shoulders fall, leaning over the edge of the bed, her long hair hanging loose all the way to the floor. She let her arms fall too, feeling as if she were flying as he pounded into her. She curled her legs hard round his waist, and he anchored her core to the bed as the rest of her swung freely through the hot air. She was drenched in sweat—her lower body literally riveted to his and yet she felt so free.

‘Incredible.’ He groaned. ‘You’re so bloody incredible.’

Afterwards he grabbed her hand and pulled her all the way back onto the bed. Breathless, she felt insane with the bliss. He walked to the table, sliced some pineapple from the assortment of fresh fruit arranged on a platter. He held a piece to her mouth for her to taste. The juice was deliciously both sweet and acidic. She took the last of it into her mouth. He started to lick the juice from his fingers, but she grabbed his hand, and licked them for him—felt the kick inside again. She had let go of everything now, allowing nothing in her head but the desire—the animal need to be with him. All sensuality, no thought.