Chapter 30
I floated out of the spa like I’d ascended into another realm of existence.
My skin felt softer than it had ever felt before and my entire body hummed and vibrated with pure, unadulterated relaxation.
I wasn’t walking, oh no, I was gliding, like some ethereal goddess of peace and serenity.
The world outside seemed brighter, the air sweeter; even the birds sounded like they were singing directly to me, twitter, twitter, tweet.
The sand under my feet was silky, warm and gentle, and the breeze caressed my deeply moisturised skin.
How had I never done this before? How had I gone so long without experiencing something so completely life-changing?
The massage had transported me into another dimension.
I’d always thought spa days were for people with too much time and money, but now I got it.
The pampering, the soft hands massaging away all the pent-up tension that you didn’t even know you had.
The whispery-voiced aesthetician asking if the pressure was okay – yes, it was okay.
It was fucking perfect! The feelings of lotions and potions being spread onto your parched skin.
I couldn’t believe I’d never experienced a massage before. What else had I been missing out on?
I felt myself getting lighter and lighter with each step, as if gravity was loosening its grip on me.
Who needed gravity anyway? And by the time I got back to the villa, I was so high on massage oil and overdosing on dopamine that my brain barely registered anything outside of my warm, serene bubble.
A bubble I would’ve quite happily stayed in forever.
But my hair was oily, and I needed to wash it.
I pushed the door open and without a second thought started peeling my clothes off, tossing them as I went.
Dress first, shoes kicked off, bra next as I headed in the direction of the shower.
I stepped into the bathroom, turned on the water and was just about to pull my undies down when—
‘Well, this is a surprise.’
The side of my brain that dealt with reality took a while to reboot, since it had been offline for a while, and when it did . . . Shit! That was Cam’s voice.
I began to turn my head. It felt like it was happening in slow motion.
The bed drifted past my field of vision, then the pot plant, the weird statue that I really didn’t like, and then .
. . Oh God! There he was. Cross-legged in the chair in the corner of the room.
Shirt off and leaning back nonchalantly, looking hot as hell.
My slow-motion moment shattered and suddenly everything seemed to be moving in double time. My gaze snapped up to Cam’s face, then to his chest, then back up to his face. He was looking straight at me, eyes locked on me like two laser beams. Then I followed his line of sight.
A little lower.
A little lower still.
I looked down and—
‘Shit.’ I cupped my breasts as quickly as I could. A nauseous feeling rose in my stomach as the full weight of this stupid, stupid mistake hit me all at once. What was wrong with me? Who walked into a room and just peeled their clothes off without checking that it was empty first?
Cam’s eyes drifted lazily up to mine. The asshole was making zero, and I mean zero, attempt not to look as if he had just been ogling my boobs. Which he had. Obviously!
‘Please don’t stop on my account, Lizzy.
’ The way my name left his mouth, slid out from between those parted lips of his, made me want to do unspeakable things.
That desire only grew as he began to stand.
Large and tall and bare-chested, he rose out of the chair in a manner that was wildly theatrical .
. . and hot. Did I mention how hot this all was?
‘I didn’t know you were . . . Uh . . . I thought you were . . . Um . . .’ I stuttered. For some reason I couldn’t move off the spot I was stuck to. That would have been the sensible thing to do, but gravity had decided to suddenly return. And gravity had a sick sense of humour.
Cam started walking towards me. Fuck it, I was never getting another facial again. Or a massage. I was never going near another spa. But then something strange happened. And it started when he finally stopped moving towards me and just stood still.
I should have run. Should have turned and bolted into the bathroom, booked myself on the next available flight home and gone into permanent hiding, should have done something – but I couldn’t.
I was paralysed by the intensity of his stare.
Something in the air – the very particles floating between us – crackled as his eyes zoned in on mine.
I swallowed hard, my breathing shaky and uneven, like I’d just run a marathon and was still trying to catch my breath, and my skin felt like it was burning everywhere.
But especially under my hands. Because I quickly realised that my hands were very much in the wrong place. I didn’t want them on me . . .
I wanted them on him. I wanted to push my palms into his chest, feel the warmth of him, the hardness too. I wanted to trace the shape of his muscles, every single line and groove.
His eyes left mine and travelled to where my arms were crossed across my chest. His jaw tensed, his throat bobbed up and down, and nearly all the blue in his eyes had disappeared now. And then suddenly, I realised something. The most important something.
Cam had the upper hand right now.
I was the one cowering, covering myself, while he stood tall with his chest puffed out, like he knew he was holding all the cards. And I didn’t like that. We competed. Always.
And I was not about to let him win this round.
I inhaled sharply, and before I had a chance to second-guess it, I dropped my hands. Then I locked eyes with him and dared him to react.
Now what are you going to do, huh?
His entire demeanour changed in an instant. His bravado was gone, and now he looked coy, unsure, almost boyish.
I arched a brow. ‘What? Suddenly shy?’
My hair was still tied up from the massage, and as casually as I could, I reached up and undid it, fully aware that with my arms up like this, my breasts were on full display.
My hair cascaded down to my shoulders, and I flipped it with my hand, then casually wrapped a strand around one of my fingers.
Cam’s eyes had widened and his jaw was on the floor.
‘Yeah. That’s what I thought,’ I said. I took two steps backwards, eyed him up and down very deliberately, and then turned with as much bravado as I could muster and started striding brazenly towards the shower.
But as I reached it, I realised something crucial: I couldn’t walk in wearing panties.
And my little one-up-manship would not be complete until I won by walking into that shower.
There was nothing else for it: if I wanted to win this round, I was going to have to take them off.
Shit! Was I really going to do that, just to beat Cam in this competition in my head?
I thought about it for a second. Of course I was.
So with as much confidence as I could manage, I looped my fingers through the sides and pulled them down.
They fell to the floor and I stepped out of them, then kicked them dramatically aside.
‘Oops. I guess I’ll pick those up when I’m out,’ I said so calmly I shocked even myself, and then I walked into the shower without even a glance behind me.
Yup, she’d definitely won that round. Won it fair and square, because when she dropped her hands, I felt myself lose all control. Of my body, my mind and definitely my heart. My entire nervous system short-circuited. She wielded a power over me that no one had ever had before.
And a part of me liked it. A part of me wanted to hand over control and let her run riot. But that wasn’t what Lizzy and I did. We didn’t let each other win. And she might have thought she’d won that round . . .
But I was going to make damn sure I won the next one.