‘Aye, well, I’m not the best with words, and maybe that was a bit… oh, what’s the expression…’
‘Oh, hang on… it’s on the tip of my tongue,’ she said, grinning as he groaned into her neck.
‘I hope it will be, sooner or later,’ he said, teeth grazing at her ear.
‘Inappropriate…’ she said.
‘Is that the word I was looking for, or your response to my suggestion?’ he said.
‘Oh, I think your suggestion is completely valid, Taddeo Campbell.’
‘You do?’
‘Most definitely.’
‘I think I’m in love,’ he said, grinning at her.
She laughed again as they wrapped one another up in a tangle of limbs and kisses and bed linen, and only much later did they manage to fall asleep again.
* * *
Tad woke with a start, momentarily confused by his surroundings. Sunlight flooded in around the edges of the full-length curtains, allowing him to recalibrate where he was, more light bursting in through the section where the tops of the fabric pieces hadn’t been drawn completely closed.
To be fair, the curtains had been lucky to get any attention the previous evening. Closing them hadn’t even been on his radar, his attention fully with the fact that Amy had invited him into her room. That she’d wanted him. Wanted him with such unabashed enthusiasm that it felt like they’d been making love for months; it felt as though he already knew what she wanted, what turned her on, made her shiver, made her laugh. Made her moan so loudly he’d feared they might wake those in the neighbouring rooms.
It had felt so good. Not only his own personal release, but the fact that he’d managed to give her so much pleasure. He glanced across at her, bundled up on her side, curled around and fast asleep like a cat. Each articulation of her spine showing through her pale skin, her hair, loose and majestic, spilling its way across her pillow like harvest corn.
He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined this moment. More than once. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t imagined every single thing that had happened the previous evening, too. And unlike many hopes and dreams, this one had realised itself to be even better than he’d hoped for.
Sinking back against his pillow, Tad took a long, languid breath. He’d happily stay in this moment for as long as possible. Stretching arms above his head and feet as far down the bed as they would go, he felt muscles flex and release, prepare themselves for the day ahead. Where was his phone? Although it still felt early, he should probably check the time.
He felt around on the floor beside the bed, fingers eventually brushing against a solid rectangle. Pulling it up in front of his face, he realised it was Amy’s phone, but even as it was asking for thumbprint recognition, he could see the time, emblazoned across the top half of the screen.
‘Fucking, shitting hell,’ he said, upright and flapping back the covers before Amy had time to unwind herself and look across.
‘I’m so sorry, Amy. Didn’t mean to wake you like that, but the time… I’m so late for breakfast service. Matteo will think I’ve fled the country or something.’
Stubbing a toe on the bedframe, he swore again as he bundled himself and an assortment of clothes into the ensuite, grabbing up his phone enroute, sending Matteo a quick message. Much as he would have loved to share an extended shower with Amy, a five-minute dousing had to suffice, the hotel shampoo smelling of coconuts and aloe vera as he scrubbed it into his hair.
Scrabbling into his clothes, he balled an excess item into his hand with a grin, taking it back into the bedroom with him as he searched for a stray sock. Once he located it, he slid onto the edge of the bed, on Amy’s side, watching as she yawned and stretched like a cat on a sunny wall.
‘So sorry for the rude awakening,’ he said, allowing her to pull him down for a kiss. With reluctance, he dragged himself away from her lips. ‘I need to fly, but I’ll see you at breakfast.’
‘Mmhmm,’ she said, nodding at him and frowning as he held out the bundle in his hand. ‘What’s that?’
‘Found them amongst my clothes. Not sure they’re exactly my colour…’
Amy’s eyebrows arched as he handed her a pair of primrose-yellow knickers, embellished around the waistband with self-coloured flowers. The very pair he’d seen her buying in the lingerie shop.
‘Perfect on you, though,’ he added as he cracked the bedroom door and slipped out.
19
At breakfast, Amy tried – and failed – to look anywhere other than at Tad. It seemed as though he was doing the same, his gaze darting to her, then away, as he reassessed the plates he held in his hands and delivered them to the correct tables.
He beelined back to her table, all smiles for Billie and Malcolm as he asked them what they wanted to eat. Amy held her breath as Tad rested one hand on the top rail of Malcolm’s chair, and the other on hers, his thumb gently rubbing at the skin between her shoulder blades. Casual and no doubt unnoticed by the rest of the room, certainly by the rest of her table, his every movement sent electricity shooting through her body.
‘Have you got a loaf of decent bread, Tad? I want to keep it simple with some bread and jam today,’ Billie was saying, her lipstick this morning a candied orange, to accompany her fitted orange silk shirt.
