The gentlemanly façade slipped away and Joe’s eyes found mine, that crooked smile appearing on his face. He didn’t budge.
‘Joe, please,’ I said with a frustrated groan.
‘Oh, I like that. Say it again,’ he whispered, unfastening the top two buttons of his shirt.
The water moved against me again, lapping at every inch of my exposed body like soft warm fingertips. ‘Joe, I’m serious.’
‘So am I,’ he replied with darkening eyes. ‘I like it when you ask nicely. Makes me wonder what else you might ask for in the right circumstances.’
‘You’ve only got five minutes,’ I reminded him, aiming for sarcasm but landing closer to a genuine query. ‘Is that enough for you?’
‘Not for me but you’d be amazed at what I can do for you in that amount of time.’
He showed no sign of moving, the devilish smile on his face fixed and daring. Still warm in the water, I weighed up my options. Stay where I was, completely at his mercy, or get out the bath and close the door myself.
So many of my best decisions were made in the bath.
If he wanted to play games, we’d play games.
‘OK then,’ I said. ‘I’ll get my own towel.’
Before I could talk myself out of it, I stood up, warm water running off my body and nothing but judiciously placed bubbles to cover my blushes. A quick check on Joe showed he was still standing but only just. With one hand on the wall, I climbed quickly but carefully out of the tub, reaching for the thick white towel waiting for me on the stand beside the bath. Joe gaped in the doorway, eyes like saucers and a conspicuous bulge straining against his jeans.
‘You’re testing me, Sophie Taylor,’ he breathed as I wrapped the towel around myself.
‘And I reckon you’re down to about two minutes,’ I replied, heart pounding all the way up into my throat. ‘Probably wouldn’t go back up to the house with a hard on if I were you.’
We both looked at his crotch at the same time, Joe adjusting his trousers. Full of fake confidence, I sashayed past him into the living room where the curtains still separated our sleeping areas to grab the first set of clothes I could lay my hands on.
One thing was for sure. Joedefinitelydidn’t need me to turn up the heating.
We didn’t share a single word on the way back to the house. I had to double my usual pace to keep up, Joe’s long legs striding purposefully as though he were trying to outrun the memory of what had just happened.
‘Don’t you have better things to do than follow me around?’ he said as I skipped around the bench halfway up the garden to get a couple of feet in front of him. ‘Surely you could be working on your next book or coming up with new and exciting ways to torture me?’
‘I’m not following you,’ I replied, tucking his last comment away for later. ‘It’s lunchtime, I’m hungry.I’mgoing tomyparents’ house to makemyselfa sandwich if that’s all right with you.’
He grunted as he hopped over a plaster cast of Horatio’s skull, one of Dad’s favourite Shakespeare-themed garden ornaments.
‘Sophie, I’m begging you,’ Joe said with a look of true anguish on his face. ‘All I need is a five-minute break where I don’t have to think aboutButterfliesor Este Cox or you, naked or otherwise. Is that too much to ask?’
The sleeves of my cardigan hung over my hands and I tucked my fingers into little fists as I stepped aside to let him past.
‘I got us into this mess, I’ll get us out,’ he added. ‘Until then, I’ll play author.’
‘So you’re going to carry on pretending to be Este Cox?’
‘It’s not as though I don’t know women,’ he replied with a well-timed little snort. It was helpful, I was overdue a reminder of his reputation. ‘What I mean is, I have lots of female friends. My best friend is a woman.’
‘Course she is.’ I nodded even though my expression did not match my words. ‘And I’m sure you’re very close to your mother.’
‘Close enough not to lie to her about writing a bestselling novel,’ he retorted, making me snap back with surprise. ‘You go and make your sandwich, I’ll continue to save your arse. Really, how hard could it be?’
He stormed off into the conservatory, leaving me standing outside without a response. I’d spent an awful lot of time thinking about how all of this was affecting me and not a single second wondering what it might be doing to Joe. He seemed almost as annoyed about thewhole thing as I was, so why offer to continue with the charade? This was an interesting development.
‘Joseph,’ I heard my mother gush. ‘Come in, come in, we’re so thrilled to have you join us.’
Us? Who else was in there?
