‘An apéritif would be great. Amaretto?’
He nodded, opened a cabinet and took out a bottle. While he fixed the drinks, Lucy crossed to the sliding doors and pushed one open. Cooler air flowed in, carrying the faint smell of salt and seaweed. She stepped outside onto the deck.
‘This is amazing,’ she said as he joined her and handed her a glass.
‘A sea view is always nice,’ he said.
‘I have one, you know,’ she replied, arching an eyebrow. She held up her thumb and forefinger a centimetre apart. ‘It’s about this big. If you crane your neck from my balcony. Six of which you could get on this deck, by the way. But it’s nice. I can hear the sea and smell it, even if I can’t see much of it.’ She took a sip. ‘Mmm. It’s been ages since I’ve had one of these. Actually, it’s ages since I’ve done anything like this, to be honest.’
He indicated the outdoor chairs, and they sat down. He settled opposite her, cradling a brandy balloon.
‘Me too,’ he said. ‘I’ve been too busy with work. What’s your excuse?’
‘Same,’ she said automatically. Then she thought about it. ‘Actually, no. That’s not entirely true. I guess that’s one downside of centring my life around MacLeod’s Cove. Not many interesting men.’
‘Hm, so I’m interesting?’ he asked.
She raised an eyebrow. ‘You know you are. And I like that you know it.’
His smile was slow and unhurried. Sensuous. Warmth slid through her body.
She drew a steadying breath. ‘You, Oliver, are a dangerous man.’
He tilted his head. ‘Surely not to you?’
‘Especially to me.’
‘How so?’
‘Because you threaten my resolve.’
‘And what resolve would that be?’
‘Not getting involved.’
He spread his hands in a gesture of mock relief. ‘Perfect. Because I don’t want to get involved either.’ His mouth quirked. ‘Our resolves are in perfect harmony so far. Any other resolutions I should know about?’
She went quiet, turning her glass between her palms. She’d been honest — but not completely. The drink, the warmth, the dark, his presence… all of it made the rest slip out before she could stop herself.
‘To not get hurt,’ she said.
‘Oh.’ For the first time, he sounded a little wrong-footed. ‘You’ll only get hurt if you want more than I can give. Do you?’
‘Well, that depends,’ she said carefully, ‘on what you can give.’
‘Not much.’
She burst out laughing. ‘Well then, if I adjust my expectations to “not much”, I guess all will be well.’
He reached for her hand, his expression softening. ‘Seriously though, Lucy. I really enjoy being with you. Talking with you.’ His thumb grazed her knuckles. ‘And I’d really like to kiss you. If that’s OK.’
Perhaps it was the dark sky, and the way the water below swallowed sound, leaving her too aware of her own pulse. Perhaps it was simply that her body had been waiting for this from the moment he’d crossed the street.
All she knew was that one moment she was sitting with her drink and the next she’d placed it on the low table, stood, walked to him and perched on the arm of his chair.
She rested a finger under his chin and tipped his face up. ‘I thought you’d never ask.’
She kissed him slowly, pressing her mouth to his.
