Chapter 22
Chapter Twenty-Two
Zara
I wake early and lie there, thinking. About how, once I got past my initial awkwardness, having dinner with Myles felt like the most normal thing in the world, as though we could have talked all night.
I can’t get back to sleep, not with everything swirling around in my head.
It wasn’t a date, last night. But I can’t escape how much it felt like one, like more than just two colleagues sharing a meal.
The way he looked at me, the way he laughed at my stories, asking me questions, like he really wanted to get to know me.
The way that being with him feels as though I’m safe, as though all my broken-hearted feelings fade away.
I pull my mind away from that line of thought, knowing only danger waits there.
It’s the romantic surroundings, I tell myself.
Besides, he has a girlfriend, who also happens to be one of the most beautiful women in the world.
He’s just being nice after what happened.
And there’s no way I want to be the office cliché, having an affair with my boss. No matter how sexy he is.
I get up and shower, eating breakfast before heading outside to the terrace. It’s a beautiful morning, a few surfers already out in the opalescent waves, the hum of the ocean somehow comforting.
This is how it will be when I get my dream, I think, as I lean on the timber balustrade.
Being able to watch the waves, to hear their song, whenever I like.
If I have to do it alone, so be it. Dean is starting to feel more and more like a distant memory now, a cautionary tale about giving my heart too quickly.
I’d love to meet someone, but I’m going to let things happen naturally, instead of building a dream based on nothing at all.
I don’t know why I’m thinking of Myles again.
I want to get closer to the ocean. I won’t be going back in for a swim anytime soon, at least not by myself, but the pool area is quiet.
There’s a small grassy area overlooking the water, right at the edge of the pool deck, with three empty loungers.
It’s the perfect place to sit and read. I scan the BBQ area, just in case, but there’s no sign of Jared.
Maybe he left already to travel the coast, like he said he was going to.
Or maybe he’s still hanging around upstairs, waiting for me to introduce him to Myles.
I’ll deal with him, anyway, if he shows up.
And Myles, thankfully, is also absent. I’m not sure I’m ready to face him yet, even though there’s part of me that can’t wait to see him.
A few minutes later I settle down on one of the cushioned loungers.
The pool deck is bounded by clear glass panels, so my view of the ocean is uninterrupted.
Rocks, sculpted into fantastic shapes by the waves, lead down to golden sand, and a small trickle of water across the stones catches the light, freshwater meeting salt at the edge of the world.
I’ve obviously been reading too many romance novels, I think with a snort, wondering at my whimsical musings.
Still, what else am I supposed to do? I’m in an impossibly beautiful place with my ridiculously handsome boss (who has now seen me topless, my mind once again reminds me), and I’m sitting here by myself.
Despite my brave thoughts earlier about going it alone, I can’t escape the fact that this place is made for kissing, for holding hands and walking on the beach, for making love in the darkness while the ocean roars outside.
All I have is a guy who’s been using me to get to my boss, and the fact that I almost drowned and had to be rescued by the same boss, whom I now cannot stop fantasising about.
I wish I had more biscuits, but I’ve run out.
I open my book and try to lose myself in a world of swirling gowns and handsome lovers, love pledged under moonlight.
But I can’t stop thinking about how it felt to be in Myles’s arms, how safe and strong he’d seemed, how I hadn’t wanted him to let me go.
How he’d looked, smiling across the table from me, his raven hair tousled. How he makes me feel whole again.
The lounger next to me creaks. Someone sits down.
“Good book?”
I start, realising I’ve been staring into space.
Grinning at me from the next lounger, looking devilishly handsome in a rumpled linen shirt and board shorts, is Myles.
Myles
When I knock on Zara’s door the next morning, there’s no answer. Frowning, I look around. Then I spot her, reclining on a sun lounger overlooking the ocean, book in hand, her red dress crumpled like petals against her long legs.
I start down the stairs, then realise my heart is pounding. I’m nervous. I, Myles Brandon, am fucking nervous. It’s exhilarating. I ride the feeling as though I’m surfing a wave, letting it carry me down to the loungers. I take the one next to hers.
Her book is open, clasped in one slender hand, but she’s watching the ocean, her lips slightly parted, her delicate profile gilded by the morning sun.
“Good book?”
She starts, and turns to me, her brown eyes wide. “Myles!” She blushes, a faint tinge of pink, utterly entrancing.
“Well, is it?” I nod towards the book.
“It’s not bad.” She closes it and slides it under the lounger, but not before I read the title.
“Really? The Prince’s Kiss ? What’s it about?”
For a moment she looks as though she wants to smack me. It’s completely endearing.
“It’s about the stock market,” she says. “Prince’s Kiss is a stock market term. I’m surprised you haven’t heard it before.”
Surprise bursts in my chest and I laugh out loud. “Is that right? And the guy on the cover,” I lean over, trying to see it again, “the muscular one wearing only breeches, is he a stockbroker?”
She giggles, clapping a hand over her mouth. “Fine,” she says. “I read romance novels. I happen to like them.” She raises her chin, challenging me. Christ, she’s adorable.
“Nothing wrong with romance,” I say, deliberately sounding serious. We stare at each other for a moment.
“Sorry.” She sounds flustered all of a sudden. “I lost track of the time. Were you waiting for me?”
“There’s no hurry. Especially if you need to catch up on your stock market knowledge.” I grin. “Though there’s somewhere I want to take you before we head inland.”
“ Where are we going?”
“No questions. Just follow me.” I get up, holding out my hand.
She doesn’t say anything, but that smile is still there as she stands, gathering up her things.
She pauses, taking the elastic band out of her ponytail and re-tying it.
Then there’s a snapping noise and her hair tumbles free around her face, in shimmering oaken waves.
She stares at me, the broken elastic in her hand.
“I should get another,” she says.
“Leave it,” I say, my groin already stirring. “You have beautiful hair.”