One Bed

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

A fter lunch at one of her favourite restaurants, Bea and Gib wandered through the twisty alleys of Oia and stopped when they approached a bookshop. Gib scanned the books on the long trestle table outside the store. The books were all second-hand, a mixture of English and other languages, including, obviously, Greek. Bea dragged her fingers across the spines of a row of romances, thinking she shouldn’t buy any as she had at least fifty on her Tbr pile on her Kindle, and paperbacks she’d ordered and not read at home. But the urge to splurge was strong.

She glanced at Gib and her heart nearly stopped when she recognised the book in his hand, the second of her Urban Explorer books. She looked down and saw the first and the third book on the table. Shit.

‘What have you got there?’ she asked, internally wincing at her squeakier-than-normal voice. She took the book from him, turned it over and pretended to read the back-cover copy. ‘I think this is a little young for you,’ she told him, handing it back.

‘Haha,’ he said, picking up book number one in the series. ‘This is the author Navy has his eye on. I want to see what he thinks is so special about her.’

Firstly, Bea still found it a little shocking that Navy Caddell liked her books enough to want to represent her. Secondly, and for the love of God, Bea couldn’t cope with Gib reading her books. What if he hated them? What if he thought her premise silly, her characters unbelievable? Would he think her books were boring? Would he see himself in Pip?

‘It’s a kid’s book, Gibson.’

‘So are JK Rowling’s and those are awesome,’ he told her, handing over some cash. He nodded at the paperback in her hand. ‘Want me to get that for you?’

She looked at the book and shook her head. ‘No. I’m good.’ She bit the inside of her cheek and sent another look at the three-book set. ‘I wouldn’t waste your money.’

‘Spending money on books is never a waste,’ he told her. True. ‘Besides, I don’t think this purchase is going to put me into debt.’

Bea scratched her cheek and wished she didn’t feel so jittery. How was she supposed to live with him, sleep with him, knowing that at some point – maybe even while he was staying in the cottage! –he was going to read her work? How was she supposed to act, relax, not ask him what he thought? And if he hated them, how would she react? She’d had bad reviews before, as every writer does, but it was different when you were looking at them on Goodreads, where you could skip the one- and two-star reviews.

But someone, other than Golly, critiquing her work to her face? That was a whole new level of torture. Gib squeezed her hand, and she looked up at him. Expensive sunglasses covered his eyes and his stubble glinted in the sun. He pulled his hand from hers to skim his thumb over her cheek. ‘Are you OK?’

She nodded and pushed her hair behind her ears. ‘Sure. Why?’

‘You seem far away, a little distracted.’

How was he able to read her so well, after so little time? ‘I’m fine.’

He didn’t say anything, just cupped her cheek in his big hand. After a few beats, he dropped his head to skim his mouth across hers. Bea wrapped his shirt around her fist, enjoying the slow, hot, sexy kiss. Then Gib pulled back but left his hand curled around her neck. ‘If we keep that up, we might be arrested for lewd behaviour.’

She smoothed his crumpled shirt and nodded. She expected him to suggest that they go back to the cottage, so she was surprised when he asked her to show him something of Oia she loved. ‘Like what?’ she asked, looking around.

He lifted one shoulder. ‘Anything. Your favourite ice cream, a store, something you enjoy.’

She thought for a moment, before asking him whether he was up for a bit of a walk. He patted his stomach. ‘Sure. I need to walk off that moussaka. I can’t get enough of it.’

He’d also eaten a starter of dolmades and finished with karidopita , a pie-ish dessert of fresh, chopped walnuts in a syrupy base made of breadcrumbs. The guy could, as Bea discovered, eat. His food bill had to be enormous.

She looked down at his footwear. Luckily, he was, like her, wearing trainers with a decent tread. ‘OK, then I’ll show you one of my favourite places in Oia.’ She gestured to the caldera. ‘It’s way down there.’

‘Sounds good.’ He lifted his shopping bag containing the books. ‘Let me run this back to the car first. I’ll meet you back here in five minutes, OK?’

Gib seemed to know exactly where they were; a feat given the twisty, narrow alleys in the town. When he returned, she led him towards Oia Castle, which was little more than a ruin. They walked down the two-hundred-plus steps to Amoudi Port and Bea smiled when Gib stopped to take in the picturesque port with its seafood restaurants and colourful, bobbing wooden boats.

They wandered through restaurants spilling onto either side of the road and when they came out the other side, Bea told Gib to look back at what she thought was one of the best views on the island, Amoudi in the foreground and Oia at the top of the cliffs. Gib took a series of photos on his phone. ‘Oh, this is great, Bea.’

She grinned. ‘We’re not there yet.’

‘There’s more?’

‘Oh, yeah.’ She continued leading him down the path away from Amoudi Port and wasn’t surprised when he asked her whether the path was safe, as there seemed to be an abundance of warning signs about falling rocks.

‘I haven’t been taken out by a rock yet,’ she told him. They stood aside to let another couple pass them and then continued down the path. Ten minutes later, she stopped them at a tiny cove.

She gestured to the view of the caldera and pointed to the towns further along the edge of the crater. ‘That’s Fira, and Imerovigli is further along.’ She pointed to the small island in front of them. ‘On that island is the church of Agios Nikolaus, it’s a tiny chapel carved into the rock. It’s my favourite place on Santorini. You can lie on the rocks and there’s a high platform jutting out from the church you can jump from.’

He looked around and grinned. ‘I remember this place. My dad brought me here and I did that jump … must have been twenty or thirty times that summer.’

She could believe it and could easily imagine him diving or jumping from the platform. It was something Pip would do.

‘Have you done it?’ he asked, slinging an arm around her shoulder.

‘Lots of times, but when I was younger,’ she told him.

He pushed his sunglasses into his hair, and his grin made him look ten years younger. ‘Let’s do it,’ he suggested.

She shook her head, gesturing to her sundress. ‘I’m wearing very lacy, very revealing lingerie,’ she told him. ‘And the water is too cold for me, even for a quick swim.’

‘It’s not cold. And even if it was, cold water is good for you.’

Yeah, so was kale and she avoided that, too. Gib grabbed the back of his shirt to pull it off his back. He dropped it to the rocks and placed his wallet, phone and sunglasses on top of it. Bea watched as he toed off his socks and trainers and opened the button to his shorts, pulled down the zip and pushed them down his hips. He wore black briefs and that space between her legs heated as she took in his spectacular body. He dumped his clothes on top of his trainers and his mouth curved into a smile. ‘I’m gonna go be eleven again. Be back soon.’

With a quick kiss, he was in the sea. Bea sat down on a flat rock and pulled his sunglasses onto her face. Before long, Gib was on the islet and he disappeared, and she assumed he was inspecting the chapel. Ten minutes later, she heard a piercing whistle and looked up to see him on the platform. Laughing, she watched as he dived into the stunning blue water. He surfaced, shook his head and trod water for five minutes or so, looking up at far Oia above them.

Then he fast-crawled back to where she was sitting and hoisted himself onto her rock. She squealed when he rubbed his wet head against her chest and pushed him away. ‘Arrgh, that’s cold.’

‘But so worth it,’ Gib told her, grinning. ‘That was the most fun I’ve had in a year. In quite a few years.’

It was the most personal thing she’d heard him say since she’d met him. ‘You should come to Santorini more often.’

‘I should get out of the office more often,’ he countered, stretching out his long legs and tipping his face up to the sun. ‘Any chance of getting my sunglasses back?’

‘None,’ Bea replied.

‘Thought so.’

She pulled her sundress further up her thighs to get some sun on her legs. ‘Is your work really that demanding?’

He lifted a shoulder and rolled his head to look at her. ‘My uncle would say that I make it harder than it needs to be. He’s always on at me for being too much of a control freak, and for not giving our highly paid managers enough responsibility. He’d like to see me let go a little.’

‘So, why don’t you?’ she asked.

‘Because I am a control freak,’ he admitted. ‘And a workaholic. Work is my mistress and my number one priority.’

There was a warning in his words, one she needed to take in. ‘There’s this concept called work-life balance,’ she said. ‘Are you familiar with it?’

He banged his hand against his ear. ‘I must have water in my ears, I didn’t hear a word you said.’

And that was his way of telling her, as gently as he could, that the subject was closed. A silent reminder that he didn’t like to talk about himself. OK, then, they could just sit in the sun and listen to the sea roll against the rocks. Easy enough to do.

Five minutes later, Gib lay down, the back of his damp head resting on Bea’s thigh. ‘I could take a nap,’ he told her, sounding lazy.

She finger-combed his hair off his forehead, happy to sit here, not saying anything, with him. ‘Are you looking forward to the party tomorrow night, Bea-baby?’

‘Yes, but more for Golly than for me. She loves parties, loves the attention.’

‘Really? I would never have guessed.’

She smiled at his dry comment. ‘I know she’s over-the-top, but I adore her. She was there for me, as a child and an adult, when many people weren’t.’

He lifted his arm behind his head to grip her thigh, his fingers lightly digging into her skin. ‘Your parents?’

‘Fairly bloody useless. I lived with my dad, and I only saw my mum a couple of times a year. As per their custodial agreement, she got me for six weeks in the summer holiday but having me underfoot was inconvenient for her, so she shipped me off to Golly, which was very convenient for me. I spent many summers here on Santorini.’

‘Lucky you.’

She had been. ‘Where did you spend your long summer holidays?’ she asked. It was a fairly innocuous question, one she hoped he wouldn’t object to.

‘Here and there.’ He opened his eyes and tipped his head back to look at her. ‘I loved making love to you this morning, Bea.’

She stared at him, confused by his abrupt change of subject. How could he be so frank and open about sex, and how much he wanted her, but so reticent about himself?

‘Bring your mouth down here, I need to taste you.’

She bent down and settled her mouth on his, tasting the salt on his lips, loving the heat of his tongue. Their kiss quickly turned desperate, and Gib gently pushed her up and away from him. He sat up and lifted her –how did he do that so easily? – onto his lap. She sat astride him, her panties against his damp briefs, his cock swelling between them. His hand snuck up the back of her skirt and palmed her butt. ‘You’re so fucking sexy,’ he muttered, the tips of his fingers sliding under the band of her panties.

In his arms, she felt sexy, wanton, freaking incredible. She held his face in his hands and kissed him, her tongue tangling with his. He might not talk about himself, or give anything away, but what did that matter when he kissed her like this, when he made her feel like she was lit from the inside.

She rocked her hips, loving the friction against her clit, but Gib grabbed her hair and gently pulled her head back. ‘ Bea-baby , if you do that, the people on the path are going to get more than they bargained for.’

She cocked her head and heard laughter drifting over to them. Damn, tourists! She scrambled off his lap, tossed his shorts in his direction and he pulled them over his lap, hiding his erection. At that moment an older, fit couple came into sight and called out a cheery greeting.

Bea stood up and walked up to the path, distracting them by feeding them facts about the islet and the tiny chapel while Gib pulled on his shorts, shoes and T-shirt. When he joined her, Bea noticed he’d raked his hair off his face.

He snatched his sunglasses back and put them on before taking her hand and sending the older couple a shit-eating grin. ‘I don’t mean to be rude, but my wife is ovulating and we’re trying to get pregnant, so we need to be off.’

The couple’s mouths dropped open in shock and Bea stared at his back as he led her down the path. She let him lead her out of earshot of the couple before punching his bicep.

He turned and grinned and her heart stopped at the laughter in his eyes. ‘OK, so you’re not my wife, and I definitely don’t want you to fall pregnant, but I do want to take you to bed.’

She drilled a finger into his chest. ‘How much time have you been spending with my godmother? That sounded like something she would say.’

‘Yeah, yeah. All I’m interested in is whether we’re going back to bed or not.’

‘What do you think?’ she asked, trying to be coy.

He brushed his thumb over her tight nipple. ‘I think this tells me I have a good chance of you saying yes.’

Bea sighed. He wasn’t wrong.

* * *

On the night of Golly’s party, many of her guests, especially those who flew in that day or late the previous night, gathered on the esplanade to watch the sunset. Cass dispatched a couple of waiters to the area to keep the guests lubricated with champagne as they eagerly waited for the Santorini spectacle to unfold. Glasses clinked together as laughter filled the air, mingling with expensive scents, the native herbs on the island and the smell of the sea.

As the sun began its fall, casting a warm glow across the landscape, the sky bloomed with vibrant pinks, oranges and purples. No one spoke as it painted its masterpiece across the sky: it was as if everyone understood that speech would destroy the ambience and experience, and that this was the universe’s way of paying homage to one of its most excellent creatures: Golly.

Standing apart from the guests, Bea watched as the sun dipped below the horizon, dousing the sea in hues of fiery orange and molten gold. With each passing moment, the sky seemed to pulse with passion. It was bright and bold, an exact match for Golly’s strong and vibrant personality. Had she sent a memo upstairs, demanding an incredible sunset? Bea’s lips quirked upward. Honestly, she wouldn’t put it past her godma…

Reena came to stand next to her and nudged her in the ribs with her elbow. She wore Jacqui’s sheath, and the small rips of toilet paper dotting her legs and the big patch of coarse hair on her right shin suggested that shaving wasn’t something she did well. Or often.

And instead of heels she wore bright green Crocs. Bea smiled at her. ‘Hi, Reen.’

‘Bea-darling,’ Reena replied, in her husky voice. ‘Golly is loving all the adulation and is totally up her own arse at the moment.’

She could always rely on Reena to call a spade a spade.

Reena ran her hand over her short grey hair. ‘And I bet she forgot to tell you that Lou won’t be here tonight. She called sometime this afternoon with some excuse.’

Bea placed her hand on her heart. She’d been on high alert, expecting to see her mother, but Reena’s assurance allowed her anxiety to drain away. ‘Thanks for letting me know, Reen. I can relax now.’

‘With your godmother around?’ With a snort of disbelief and a pat on her shoulder, Reena headed back to the villa.

Bea pulled her eyes off the sunset and scanned the guests for Gib. He stood at the back, and a little apart from everyone, and as if sensing her gaze on him, turned his head. Their eyes clashed and held, and Bea wasn’t surprised when he crossed the flagstones to stand next to her. He took her hand, palm to palm, their fingers intertwined, and Bea placed her temple on his bicep as she turned her gaze back to the darkening sky. It seemed right to share this surprisingly quiet, completely perfect moment with Gib, to allow herself to be lost in the beauty of the sunset and the magic of this much-loved island. A little overwhelmed by nature’s magnificence, she knew this memory would never fade.

The sky turned navy, then indigo and the fairy lights in the pergola flicked on, as did the lights illuminating the path back to the villa’s courtyard. The deepening sky raised the volume of the guests, and their laughter and chatter danced on the evening air.

‘Everything OK?’ Gib asked, his hand lightly resting on her lower back.

She nodded. Now that she knew Lou wouldn’t be around to spoil the evening, it was better than OK, it was perfect. She and Cass had done their last-minute checks earlier. Long trestle tables had been stretched across the courtyard, draped in crisp white linens and adorned with sparkling candelabras and delicate floral arrangements. Each place-setting was a work of art, with gleaming silverware, crystal glassware, and personalised menus showcasing the culinary delights to come.

As she and Gib joined the procession moving from the esplanade to the villa, conversations between the guests washed over them.

‘ Darling, it’s so good to see you!’ Kiss, kiss. ‘I meant to call you about missing the opening night of your exhibition…’

‘I’m glad to run into you, Angus. Can you spare a half hour tomorrow to talk about a project I’m launching? I think you’d like to invest…’

‘Have you met Kylie? She’s just completed a run in the West End, sweetie. So talented.’

Live music from a jazz quartet drifted through the evening air, and laughter added another element to the celebratory atmosphere.

When they reached the courtyard, Gib excused himself and Bea sipped her champagne, her eyes on Golly, who stood in a group with Jack and a well-known author. Golly wore a scarlet dress with a feathered bolero jacket, in acid green, for warmth. The colour combination shouldn’t have worked, but because Golly was Golly and didn’t care what anyone thought, she pulled it off. She was in her element, Bea mused, entertaining the great and good at her home, all the focus of the attention on her.

Bea smiled as Cass approached her, looking elegantly competent in her black shirt and trousers, carrying her iPad. Black hightops back on her feet. Bea knew Cass had an earpiece in her ear and a small microphone attached to her dress, making it easier for her to bark quiet orders to the staff. They were lucky to have Cass coordinating this event, and lucky to have Nadia in the kitchen. Even luckier that Cass and Nadia had agreed to stay in Santorini for the rest of the week –switching from event and catering whizzes to house and cooking elves. Cass joined her and Bea surprised herself, and Cass, by threading her arm through hers. ‘It’s going well, isn’t it?’ she murmured.

‘ Rather . And I haven’t had any surprises from Golly yet,’ Cass told her. ‘No strippers have arrived, and the circus hasn’t pitched their tent.’

The night was still young. Bea squeezed her arm. ‘Have the belly dancers, fire-eaters and fire-stick-swinging people arrived?’

‘The fire dancers?’ Cass smiled. ‘Yes, and the fireworks crew are ready to roll at midnight. I’ve got everything under control, Bea.’

‘And I’m so grateful,’ Bea muttered, tossing back half of her champagne.

Cass pulled her out of the mêlée and behind the bar. Telling her to stay put, she walked away and returned a minute later with two shot glasses, one of which she handed to Bea.

‘Tequila?’ she asked, sniffing the contents.

‘Tequila,’ Cass confirmed. ‘Cheers.’

Bea pulled a face as the liquor slid over her tongue and down her throat. Actually, it was better than the gut rot she remembered from her university days. It was quite palatable. And warming.

Cass nodded to where Golly was being dipped by Jack, whose cheeks were red with exertion, his waistcoat button straining.

‘Oh, God, he’d better not drop her,’ Bea said, hand on her throat.

‘I bet if he did, Golly would knee him in the balls,’ Cass retorted. Jack placed Golly on her feet and Bea smiled at her sparkling eyes and the way Jack gently straightened her tiara. It was different from the one she’d worn earlier in the week, rubies instead of sapphires, and, like the other one, Bea hadn’t seen it before. Had Golly commissioned it for the occasion? Highly possible.

‘She feels young again, and people and entertaining invigorates her,’ Cass said. ‘She loves this, the adulation and the attention. She’s amazing. I want to be just like her when I grow up.’

Bea grinned. ‘Join the club.’

Cass smiled at her. ‘Can I make an observation, sweetie?’

Bea nodded.

‘I’ve noticed that you spend a lot of time looking around, seeing how you can make things better, how you can make people more comfortable, happier.’

Bea’s mouth dropped open. ‘You noticed that?’

‘Since it’s what I do for a living, yeah. Take the night off, Bea, I’ve got this. Switch off for a little bit.’ Cass squeezed her hand. ‘Go out there, and dance with that gorgeous man who can’t keep his eyes off you. Sneak away for some hot sex and get a little tipsy. Make this night one of the best of your life.’

Bea considered her suggestion. It was a stunning night, she was wearing a short, gold cocktail dress that almost made Gib swallow his tongue earlier and a pair of pretty but horribly uncomfortable thin-heeled shoes. Gib was out there somewhere, looking for her, at her, someone who’d help her have a fabulous night.

Bea leaned forward and gave Cass a quick hug. ‘I am so glad you’re here, Cass. You and Nadia.’

Cass flashed her a smile and held up her finger as she listened to someone on her earpiece. Cass lifted her microphone to her mouth. ‘I’ll be with you in five,’

Seeing Cass’s slight frown, Bea’s panic metre revved straight into the red zone. ‘What’s wrong? What’s happened? Oh God, Golly’s done something over the top, hasn’t she?’

Cass laughed. ‘That was my wife, who has a five-minute break and wanted to know if I was up for a quick snog.’

Bea’s heart returned to normal. ‘Oh. Right, good. Yes, go! Go snog your wife.’

‘I will, thank you.’ Cass grinned, and was starting to walk away when she suddenly turned back ‘But maybe you should know that Golly has coloured outside the lines,’ she said with a wince.

Bea knew it! She bloody knew it! ‘What has she done?’ she asked, wondering if she really wanted to know.

‘Do you know that there are mobile S&M dungeons, complete with leather-dressed doms who’ll ease you into that world if you’re keen to explore it? Golly thought it would be fun?—’

Cass’s words sank in, and Bea blanched. Where the hell had they set up a mobile dungeon? Could she make them leave? What the hell was Golly thinking? How much did hiring them cost? Was supplying BDSM services in Greece illegal?

Oh, God, she could feel a panic attack coming on.

Cass doubled over, laughing. ‘I’m joking , Bea! God, your face! ’

Bea forced her heart back down her throat and growled at Cass. ‘That’s not even remotely funny! You don’t understand that she’s capable of doing something just like that!’

‘Then her hiring a psychic isn’t such a bad thing, is it?’ Cass asked, laughing. ‘Said psychic is in the morning room at the villa, and I’m to start spreading the word that she’ll do a reading for any guest who wants one. Golly’s already had one and is raving about her!’

‘Fabulous,’ Bea muttered, rubbing the back of her neck, and still trying to get her breath back. ‘So, what did she tell her? That she’s going to retire? That one day, a long time in the future, when God and the devil are done arguing over her, that she’s going to die?’

Cass shook her head. ‘We’re all going to die, sweetie. We need help on how to live .’

* * *

Bea swayed in Gib’s arms, her cheek on his chest. His hand was curled around hers, his other arm around her waist. A piece of paper wouldn’t fit between them and that was the way she liked it.

God, he smelt amazing … clean, and crisp, of green apples and limes, of the sea. ‘What cologne do you wear?’ she asked, feeling lazy and lovely and turned on.

He pulled back to look down at her. ‘Sorry?’

‘You smell so good. I want to buy a bottle so that I can sniff it and remember this moment in the future.’ She smiled, riding that delicious high from just enough champagne and an overdose of lust and need. ‘Does that sound creepy?’

He dropped her hand to show her the inch of space between his thumb and index finger. ‘A little.’

She swatted his shoulder with the back of her hand, and he recaptured her hand and kissed the tips of her fingers, sending sexy shivers down her hand and up her arm. ‘Is this moment that good, Bea-darling ?’

She liked the way her godma’s pet name for her rolled off his tongue. His stubble was thicker tonight, his hair a little messy. He wore the same stone-coloured suit trousers from earlier that week, but tonight he’d left the jacket behind and wore a collared, powder-blue dress shirt he’d left unbuttoned at the neck. The shirt beneath her fingers was crisp cotton, the body beneath as fine.

‘It is. It’s a stunning night. Golly is, so far, behaving herself, and I pigged out at supper.’

Nadia had served her variations of Golly’s favourite dishes –seafood platters, paella and lamb stew, aubergine and parmesan bake for the vegetarians and vegans –and everybody had tucked in with enthusiasm. Drinks flowed, and the jazz quartet played Golly’s favourite songs. Laughter rolled and people flirted, and whenever he could, Gib put his big hand on Bea’s bare thigh.

He topped off her wine glass and sneaked spoonfuls of luscious tiramisu cheesecake off her plate when he thought she wasn’t looking. He’d engaged in a few conversations with the people who shared their table, acquaintances to her, strangers to him, quietly charming, effortlessly engaging. But she soon noticed that if she wasn’t a part of a conversation, he’d adroitly end his, and focus his attention on her. It was as if his only reason for being there was to give her the majority of his attention. For that alone, she utterly adored him.

‘Do you like parties?’ she asked, playing with the hair skimming his collar.

‘They aren’t my favourite way to spend time. They are necessary sometimes, though, so I make an effort. But I far prefer smaller dinners, with people I get on with and enjoy. Nothing beats a barbecue with beer and old, good friends.’

Wow. Information!

‘Who do you invite to your barbecues?’ She really wanted to ask who he’d invite as his date, but even she wasn’t that gauche. Besides, she knew he wouldn’t answer.

‘Ah, Navy, I guess. He’s not only my cousin, he’s my best friend. I also have a few good friends from college, and one or two I’ve met through work. Plus their wives and kids.’

‘And would you cook? Or would you hire someone to grill your meat for you?’

He looked horrified at her suggestion. ‘Of course I’d cook!’

Whoops. She swallowed her giggle. ‘And where would all this happen? On the balcony of your Upper West Side flat?’ she teased.

He pinched her lightly. ‘I have a house in Nashville. That’s where Caddell is headquartered.’

Bea frowned. They were an international company with offices all over the world and she expected their head offices to be somewhere more cosmopolitan. ‘Why aren’t you based in LA or New York? Even London?’

He’d answered five, or six, questions in a row and she was on a roll. She hoped he wouldn’t clam up now.

‘That would be because my father and his brother, my Uncle Hugh, grew up in Nashville. We have offices in those cities, of course, and in Hong Kong and Sydney, but Hugh and Navy live in Nashville. I tend to travel a lot, but Nashville is home.’

Huh. Tennessee. It didn’t fit him … or did it? He had that rangy, loose-limbed southern gentlemen-stroke-surfer vibe.

‘So, I heard Golly hired a psychic. You going to get a reading from her?’ That was the worst attempt at changing the subject she’d ever heard.

She narrowed her eyes at him. ‘Closing me down, Gib?’

He fed her a soft, lovely kiss and pulled back before it gathered any heat. Her stomach rolled over and her toes curled up. Good to know they were still alive as she’d thought her heels shut down the blood to them hours ago.

She wanted to kiss him, but she was content to keep talking to him as well. The man was fascinating. The band segued into another song with a faster beat, but neither of them reacted.

‘So Navy is your best bud, you live in Nashville?—’

He shrugged, then looked away. When his eyes clashed with hers again, she knew he was done talking. He stroked his thumb across her cheek and his half smile kicked her libido up. ‘It’s a gorgeous evening and I’m holding a sexy, sexy woman in my arms. Why the interrogation?’

It was called conversation , but she wasn’t going to argue with him. Bea knew he was trying to put some emotional distance between them and sighed. Look, she knew this wasn’t going anywhere, it was a fling at best, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be friends.

Before she could speak, he bent down and brushed his lips across hers, his hand sliding down her back, his fingers coming to rest just about her butt. He did that a lot, used their attraction to distract her. And it worked.

Every. Single. Time.

‘Did I tell you that you look sensational?’

‘Not in so many words, but you did bunch my dress up and take me up against the wall shortly before we walked over here, so I figured you liked the way I look.’

His smile was the perfect mixture of sweet and sexy. ‘I did, I do. But as much as I like your dress, I also like your ragged denim shorts, your messy hair when you sit in front of your computer, and your cute sundresses. But you look your best when you’re naked and under me.’

It was the nicest thing any man had ever said to her, and she smiled at him. Judging by the way his eyes widened, her smile was sultrier and more seductive than she’d meant it to be. Maybe she could flirt, just a little. But she was done with words, she needed action. ‘Will you kiss me, Gib? Please?’

He didn’t hesitate and a second later, maybe less, his mouth covered hers and Bea forgot they only had a week left, and that his home was on another continent. All she needed, wanted, was Gib’s mouth on hers, his hands on her body. His attention, for as long as she had it, on her.

Tonight, the future could take care of itself.