‘Yes…’ She backed slowly away—any injudicious move was likely to stir up all those hormones swirling about her body, desperate for action. ‘Did she say where she’d be?’
‘Her room, I imagine.’
‘Her room?’ She finally snapped out of the semi-inert state where her brain was focused entirely on Gideon. ‘This is her room!’ she declared.
‘Yes, well, that was the other thing I was about to tell you. Before you threw yourself on me.’
‘What a pity I didn’t do more damage.’
‘Is that any way to speak to a man who, while you were snoring your head off, has single-handedly sorted out your accommodation problems?’
She was fairly sure that the snoring slur was simply his attempt to put up a wall between them and who could blame him?
Ignoring it, she said, ‘What did you do? Rub a magic lamp and produce another tree house out of thin air?’
‘Is that what you do when, on the morning of the wedding, the bride tells you that a long lost cousin from New Zealand has arrived with all his family and you have to find room for half a dozen extra people at a reception?’
‘I don’t need magic to produce an extra table,’ she snapped back. ‘It’s my job.’ Then, because this was no way to cool things down, she extended a hand, palm out like a traffic cop. ‘Stop.’ She took a deep breath. ‘Back up.’ He waited, a questioning tilt to one of those devilish brows while she took another breath. Started again. ‘Thank you so much for involving yourself with my accommodation problem, Gideon. Would you care to update me?’ she enquired politely.
She got an appreciative grin for her efforts and all those escaped hormones stampeded in his direction and she took a step forward as she almost overbalanced.
Maybe he noticed because he said, ‘Sit down and I’ll fill you in.’
She did but only, she told herself, because he was having to peer awkwardly up at her in a way that must be hurting his back. Not that he’d been feeling pain a few minutes ago…
Stop. Oh, stop…
Ignoring the low lounger—she wasn’t risking a second close encounter with all those free roaming pheromones—she crossed to a canvas director’s chair that David had fetched so that they could have a cosy chat over her supine body.
Tempted as she was to pitch in with yet another sarcastic comment, she suspected he was waiting for it and, since she hated being predictable, said, ‘When you’re ready?’
‘The best man and his new girlfriend have been allocated the captain’s cabin aboard the river boat. It’s not like this, but they’ll have the deck for game viewing and the pool if they want to cool off.’
‘What about the captain?’ she asked.
‘He can use the first mate’s cabin.’
‘And the first mate?’ She held up a hand. ‘No, I don’t want to know.’ She swallowed. He was in pain, he didn’t want the wedding here, but he’d still gone out of his way to help her. ‘Just…well, thank you. That’s an enormous help.’
Gideon, the dull ache of unfulfilled lust competing with the hard frame of the sunlounger digging into his back for attention, was concentrating so hard on Josie that they didn’t stand a chance.
A woman had every right to change her mind and she didn’t have to apologise. It was obvious, from the moment he’d set eyes on her, that there had been something between them, that rare arc of sexual energy that could leap across a room on a glance. An exchange between two people destined to be naked together in the very near future. For a night, or a lifetime. Or not.
You were with someone else, or she was and there would be a shrug, an acknowledgement of what might have been.
On this occasion it had not just arced, there had been lightning and it was going to take a lot more than a shrug, a regretful look to make him forget how she’d felt in his arms. That look on her face as she’d scrambled to distance herself from him. Dismay, desperation…
It wasn’t what he’d done that had sent her running. It was what she’d come close to doing.
‘You’ve been very kind, Gideon,’ she said, her words, like her body, as stiff as a board.
‘Well, you know what they say. There’s no such thing as a free lunch.’ He lifted a brow, hoping to provoke her, get her to loosen up, let go. Get back the Josie who said exactly what she thought instead of what she thought she should say. ‘I imagine that surrendering your lunch wasn’t an entirely altruistic gesture?’
‘Not in the least,’ she admitted without a blush.
Better…
‘Which brings us to the larger problem of the bridal suite. What’ll it take to fix that?’ Then she did blush, possibly remembering his earlier comment about incentives.
Much better…
‘Nothing. It’s sorted.’
‘Really?’ She brightened.
‘We’re going to be room mates.’
Gideon saw the blush fade from her cheeks as she rose slowly to her feet.
‘Well, you and David have had a busy afternoon,’ she said.
He’d known that she wasn’t going to be happy about it and, under the circumstances, it didn’t take a genius to see what she must be thinking.
‘I’m sorry, but David and I went through the guest list to see if there was any way either of us could double up. But, like the Ark, everyone is coming to this wedding two-by-two. We are the only singles.’
‘You could leave,’ she pointed out.
‘I did consider it,’ he admitted. ‘I even made it as far as the bathroom, but it seems that the very thought of getting on a plane was enough to make my back seize up again.’
‘How convenient.’
‘You think I’m enjoying this?’
‘Oh, God, no,’ she said, her face instantly softening, full of compassion, and that made him feel like a heel because right at this moment he was enjoying the situation rather a lot. ‘I’m sorry. That was a horrible thing to say…’
He could have told her that she had an instant cure, but under the circumstances he thought it unwise and instead watched as, for the second time in ten minutes Josie struggled to come to terms with a situation she couldn’t quite get her head around.
‘Is flying a problem for you?’ she asked.
He laughed. He knew he shouldn’t but he couldn’t help himself. ‘Are you asking me if I’m afraid of flying?’
‘It’s nothing to be ashamed of,’ she assured him.
‘Have you any idea how many miles I fly each year?’
‘Well, no, but it’s a fact that the more miles you fly the shorter the odds become…’
‘Stop. Stop right there. I have a pilot’s licence, Josie. I own my own light aircraft. I stunt fly for fun.’
‘Stunt fly?’
‘It’s one of the extreme holidays my company offers.’
‘Oh. Right. It’s just that if the problem is psychological…’ She stopped. ‘No. Right.’ Then, ‘But if you can’t move, how are you going to move rooms?’ she asked.
‘I’m not moving anywhere. You’re moving in here.’
Josie