Her doubt must have shown, for his grin widened. ‘Don’t you trust me?’
She quirked an eyebrow. ‘Your driving skills? Maybe. As for the rest? Not on your life.’
He clutched his heart. ‘You’re a hard woman. Now, come on—get in the car before I change my mind.’
She laughed, surprisingly relaxed as they headed out of town and he pointed out interesting landmarks.
She’d expected some awkwardness, but he kept up a steady flow of casual chatter as they wound around the island. Content to sit back and watch the stunning scenery, she admired the sapphire ocean lapping at pearly sands, the beaches fringed by swaying palm trees. After half an hour, they stopped at a roadside café.
‘Do you like Indian food?’
‘Love it. The hotter the better.’
‘Good. Raj put me on to this place years ago, and I always drop in if I have time. They make the best chicken tikka this side of India.’
‘What are we waiting for? I’m ravenous.’
As they entered the open-air café the proprietor, a tall Sikh wearing a maroon turban, rushed over. ‘Hello, Mr Zac. Welcome back.’He pumped Zac’s hand so vigorously Lana feared the action might dislodge his turban. ‘Aah, you have brought a beautiful friend. Welcome to Sujit’s Place, miss.’
Zac smiled. ‘Sujit, meet Lana.’
He bowed over her hand. ‘Welcome. Now, what can I get you?’
She deferred to Zac. ‘You order. You’d know the specialities.’
‘How about the usual, Sujit?’
Sujit bowed again. ‘Most definitely, my friend. Coming right away.’
She looked around, surprised by how clean the place was, considering it was open to the elements. As for the sand floor—it would be a breeze for clean-ups.
‘Adds to the island ambience, huh?’
She nodded, surprised he could read her thoughts so easily, and secretly pleased. ‘What’s with the lack of table settings?’
‘Wait and see.’
‘Very mysterious.’
His mouth kicked up into a cheeky grin. ‘All will be revealed shortly.’
‘I bet.’
He chuckled at her laconic response and gestured to a nearby table, where she plonked her straw carryall next to a chair and sat, savouring the spicy aromas coming from the nearby kitchen.
‘Smells divine.’
Zac slid his aviators off, the impact of all that dazzling blue rivalling the sky for vibrancy. ‘The last ship I was on used to dock here every week. I put on six pounds as a result. See?’
He lifted his shirt and patted his washboard stomach. Her mouth went dry. Those were some abs.
Before she had time to comment Sujit arrived, bearing platters of food: naan bread, chicken tikka, dahl and lamb korma were placed in a tantalising array in front of them, and the dryness disappeared as the delicious aromas made her mouth water.
‘Thanks, Sujit. This looks superb, as always.’
Sujit nodded, his hands held together in a prayer-like pose. ‘Enjoy your meal.’
Zac glanced at her, a smile playing about his lips. ‘Well, what are you waiting for?’
Confused, she pointed at the table. ‘Plates would be handy?’
‘See those large green leaves Sujit put in front of us? They’re not placemats; that’s your plate. Indian food here is served on a banana leaf. Usually, only vegetarian fare is served on leaves, but here it saves on the washing up. You just roll them up once you’ve finished and throw them out. As for cutlery—you’re looking at it.’
He waved his fingers at her, and she couldn’t help but notice how long, elegant and strong they were.
‘I can cope with using my hands to eat as long as I clean up first. Is that sink over there for washing?’
He nodded. ‘Follow me.’
As they soaped and scrubbed his hand brushed hers and she jumped, the innocuous touch raising an awareness she’d determinedly subdued since last night.
He stared at her, an eyebrow raised, and she managed a weak smile. ‘I think our food’s getting cold.’
First to break the stare, she turned away, feeling hot and clammy and out of her depth. He’d moved the boundaries with those kisses, had changed everything with his admission of how much he wanted her, and no matter how hard she pretended she could handle it, she couldn’t cast off all her reservations at once.
With her head urging her to take a chance for once, and her heart scared of the consequences if she did, she headed back to the table.
This was going to be a long day.
Zac followed Lana back to the table, loving how she moved, all fluid lines and sinuous elegance.
Her long turquoise dress, surely a reject from the seventies, flowed from her shoulders to mid-calf, skimming curves along the way. He could see the straps of a bright pink bikini poking through, and he hardened immediately at the thought of seeing her in it. If the vision of her hot little bod in that dreadful neck-to-toe one-piece had been haunting his dreams, he could hardly wait to see her curves revealed in a bikini.
She’d pulled her curly hair back in a loose ponytail, and he longed to reach out and wrap the tendrils that curled at the base of her neck around his fingers. He loved her hair, loved watching it bounce against her shoulders as she walked.
A vivid image of that hair draped over his torso popped into his mind and he almost stumbled. This would be one hell of a tour if he walked around with a hard-on all day.
Determined to ignore his libido, he sat and pushed a platter of naan towards her. ‘Let’s eat.’
‘Everything looks delicious.’
‘Wait till you try it.’
He ladled a serving of dahl and korma onto her leaf, then reached for a naan. Her fingertips brushed his as he reached for the same piece and he clenched his jaw in frustration.
It wasn’t deliberate—one look at her shy gaze firmly fixed on her banana leaf told him that—and he needed to get a grip before he made a mess of things, as he had last night.
He broke off a piece of the soft, doughy bread, dipped it into the pungent curry sauce and stuffed it into his mouth before he said something he’d regret, like, Let’s get out of here and get naked.’
‘Mmm, divine.’
Her tongue flicked out to capture a drip of sauce and he stifled a groan, focusing on the unique blend of spices hitting his tastebuds rather than how much he’d like to lick away that spillage.
He needed to talk, to draw attention away from how much he wanted her, to focus on anything other than the driving, obsessive need to get her naked and moaning his name while he plunged into her.
‘Sujit whips up the best Indian food I’ve ever had. It rivals some of the feasts I’ve had in Singapore and India for authenticity.’
‘You’ve been around, haven’t you?’
‘Yeah—definitely a perk of the job. I’ve travelled almost everywhere.’
‘Any favourites?’
He’d steered the conversation onto safe ground only to be diverted by the small moans of pleasure she made between mouthfuls, and he gulped his entire glass of water before answering.
‘Probably