Tonight was the anniversary of Jax spitting the truth at her—the anniversary of the night he’d dumped her in no uncertain terms. And while she’d made a new life, moved to a new city, taken up new activities, she couldn’t forget the devastation, the embarrassment that she’d made such a monumental error in judgment.
It wasn’t a night to be alone. It was a night to be distracted with funny quips and compliments, no matter how meaningless, a night to erase the memories of how naïve she’d once been.
‘You okay?’
Her heart sank as he dumped their drinks on the table and pulled his chair next to hers, concern creasing his brow.
Blinking rapidly, she pointed to her contact lens. ‘Still not used to these darn things. Wish I’d brought my glasses this trip.’
His eyes narrowed as they locked onto hers, probing, yet compassionate. ‘I’d believe you if I hadn’t seen your expression.’ He jerked his thumb over his shoulder towards the bar. ‘From over there you looked like someone had died. Then I get back here and you’re almost crying—’
‘I’m not!’
She sniffed as a lone tear chose that moment to squeeze out of her eye and roll down her cheek, plopping on the back of her hand clenched in her lap.
‘The hell you’re not.’ He brushed a thumb under her eye, so tenderly she almost burst into tears on the spot. ‘Now why don’t you tell me what’s really going on?’
She shook her head, mortified he’d seen her like this, frantically racking her brain for something halfway plausible to tell him—anything other than the truth.
Placing his hand over hers, he gave it an encouraging squeeze. ‘Tell me.’
She opened her mouth, closed it, then repeated her goldfish impersonation. Her mind was blank apart from the glaring truth: that it had been over three years since Jax had dumped her, and the memory still had the power to make her blubber.
‘It’s a guy, isn’t it? What did the jerk do?’
Her gaze focussed on his, her tears rapidly drying under all that fierce, fiery blue. He almost looked possessive, protective, and she found herself wanting to tell him. A small part of her was thrilled he actually seemed to care.
‘Tonight’s an anniversary of sorts.’
She stared down at his hand covering hers: tanned, strong, oh, so comforting. Some of that strength transferred to her as she took a deep breath and kept talking.
‘I loved this guy—thought he was the one. He said all the right things, did all the right things, but turned out he was only after… one thing.’
She’d almost blurted the truth—that Jax had only been schmoozing her for what she could do for him at the museum. He’d wanted insider info on items for his private collection. But she couldn’t tell Zac about any of that, considering he thought she was a fitness instructor.
‘We didn’t really click, so he dumped me.’She shrugged, hating the lance of pain still lodged deep in her heart. ‘Said I was just a fling, a bit of fun.’
She hiccupped, a pathetic half-sob, angry at the sting of yet more tears, angry at herself more for being such a gullible fool.
‘He laughed at me for getting so involved, for being old-fashioned and taking our relationship seriously.’
Zac cursed under his breath, turning his hand over to intertwine his fingers with hers. ‘You listen to me. That piece of slime didn’t deserve you. He isn’t worth anything let alone you giving him a second thought.’
‘I know.’
She sighed, enjoying the secure feeling of her fingers intertwined with his way too much. Holding her hand was a fleeting, comforting gesture—something a guy like him would do for any woman. But for one tiny moment it made her feel beyond special, as if he really cared.
‘Come with me.’
He leaped to his feet, practically dragging her with him.
‘But what about our drinks?’
‘Forget them. Let’s go.’
‘Where?’
She had to almost run to keep up with him. His long strides were determined.
‘Somewhere I should’ve taken you first, rather than easing into this date with a drink.’
Her jaw hit the deck as he pushed through a heavy glass door and led her out onto the open promenade. ‘Date?’
‘Yeah, date. You know—that thing two people do when they want to get to know each other better, when they like each other even if one of them doesn’t want to admit it.’
If her mind had spun with memories of Jax, it was positively reeling now with Zac’s little announcement.
They reached the railing and he finally released her hand, leaned forward, his gaze fixed on the undulating ocean. ‘I’ve gone about this all wrong. I didn’t want to scare you off by calling this a date tonight, but I’d planned on bringing you up here, talking a little, getting to know each other, before catching a movie or maybe going dancing—or whatever you wanted to do.’
‘Oh.’
She couldn’t speak, the pain of memories of Jax annihilated by the unbelievable joy unfurling in her heart.
He turned to face her, reached over and stroked her cheek, soft, beguiling. She held her breath, stunned by his intimate touch, and by her craving for more.
‘I wanted tonight to be romantic, to show you I’m not just toying with you.’
He stepped closer, took hold of her arms, and she looked up, gasped, captivated by the moonlight glinting off his dark curls and the striking shadows it created as it played across his face.
He slid his hands up and down her arms, the rhythmic contact depriving her of all rational thought as he gazed at her with hunger and greed and passion.
‘I don’t know what to say—’
‘Then don’t say anything at all.’
He tugged her close a second before crushing her lips beneath his. The scorching kiss, a sensual assault, left her reeling.
If their first kiss on the beach in Noumea had rocked her world, this kiss blew it into the stratosphere.
As she tilted, along with the deck beneath her shaky feet, she realised she’d never been kissed like this—ever.
She clung to him as his tongue coaxed its way into her mouth, teasing her to match him. She moaned, a guttural sound deep in her throat, and the noise inflamed him. He leaned into her, pressing her back against the rail as his arousal strained against her, creating an answering response in her core, setting her wildest desires alight.
She should stop this madness, re-erect the barriers that had come crashing down the first instant his lips had touched hers.
But it felt so good to be desired, so good to have the attention of a man, so good to eradicate any lingering memories of what had happened on this night three years ago.
His hands tangled in her hair, angling her head, and he slid his lips repeatedly across hers as he tried to pull her closer.
Stunned by the ferocity of his need, she inadvertently rotated her hips against his pelvis as his hand strayed to her breast, cupping and kneading, sending her resistance spiralling dangerously out of control. His thumb circled her nipple through the thick cotton of her dress, the torturous rubbing firing electric shocks through her body.
The sound of a slamming door broke the erotic spell and they tore apart. Her breathing was ragged as he ran a hand through his mussed curls, his expression dazed.
She’d