“Of course,” she said with a nod, still inert.
He strode across to her then, slowly and deliberately, holding one hand out. A simple gesture, a sign of old-fashioned manners, to help her from the deep leather sofa.
She laid the book down with care, slower than was necessary, to give her time to steel herself for his touch, and then, lifted her hand into his. Sparks exploded through her at the simpleconnection and her eyes skittered to his once more, to find him watching her with an unfathomable expression on his face.
“Are you hungry yet?”
She nodded because she didn’t know what else to say or do. It seemed safer to say yes, though. To focus on a meal, rather than the other feelings that were zipping through her.
He pulled on her hand lightly, encouraging her to stand, but he didn’t step backwards, so when her feet connected with the ground and she was upright, they were body to body, chest to chest, so close she was sure he must be able to feel the frantic pulse of her heart.
“We should eat,” she said, the words barely a whisper.
God, she’d craved him. All day. Seeing him at least answered some part of her temptation. Being deprived of that was like an addict being left to starve.
“I was thinking about a swim first. It’s still early. But if you’d prefer…”
“No, a swim sounds good,” she said, too fast. Too eager. But shewaseager. The desire to be close to him was swamping every modicum of common sense she possessed. “Now?”
His nod was barely a shift of his head. The thought of separating to get into swimsuits was agony. “I think the swimmers are still wet,” she said, with no idea if there was another pair in the wardrobe or not.
“Do you need swimmers?”
Her jaw dropped.
His lips twisted with a hint of a smile, a teasing look on his features, and a seriousness in his eyes that made her feel completely side-swiped.
“You can swim in your underwear, can’t you? Although, I hate to break it to you: I have seen you naked,bella.”
“Yeah,” she said, voice gruff. “But you have a heap of people working here…they haven’t.”
“That’s true.” He leaned closer then, his eyes roaming her face before landing on her lips. “But guess what?”
“What?” It was barely audible.
“They’re my staff. They do what I say. If I ask them to go, they will.”
“Oh.”
“Shall I ask them to leave us?”
Her heart clunked her ribs. Her mouth dried out again. She no longer cared about the integrity of her vascular system; there was no way she could control her pulse.
“I—no,” she said, somehow finding a strength she didn’t know she possessed. “I’m sure that’s not necessary.”
Something like disappointment was discernible in the depths of his eyes, but then he was nodding, taking a single step back from her. “Shall we?”
He toldhis staff to leave them, anyway. He had no idea why he’d suddenly developed the prudish manners of a Jane Austen hero, but he one hundred per cent didn’t want anyone seeing the mother of his child in her underwear.
Which was absurd. A year ago, he’d hosted a summer party on his yacht that had included a whole host of celebrities, many of whom had stripped down to just their knickers, parading around topless the whole day for all and sundry to see. It hadn’t bothered him one bit. Raf didn’t care about anything so arcane as modesty.
But with Elodie, it was different.
It wasn’t about modesty, so much as possession, he realized, with a familiar sense of guilt swirling through him. He didn’t want to feel like this. He didn’t want to misrepresent what they were—even to himself.
But as she slowly stripped out of her t-shirt and flowing skirt, revealing a matching black lace bra and briefs, he was glad beyond belief that he’d had the sense to make sure they wouldn’t be interrupted. He stood with his feet planted wide, his own shirt balled in his fists, now wearing only his boxer shorts, and apparently unable to look anywhere but at Elodie.
He watched as she glanced at him, saw the way her eyes widened, and cheeks flushed. Saw the way she bit into her lip and dropped her hands to the side. Saw the way she looked quickly at the pool and then back at him, as though weighing up her two options, before walking, slowly, like it was the wrong direction and she knew it, towards him, one hand extended.
