‘Doesn’t matter,’ I said, grasping at the back of his head and pulling him into me. I still had ice on my tongue and he tasted like I did, of cold whisky. I pushed him back so that he was lying on the beach and then flipped myself over, straddling him. ‘This is very unprofessional of me,’ I said, letting out a soft moan as he ran his hands down my hips, pressing me harder into him, digging his fingernails into my back. He was as turned on as I was, I could feel it now. I ran my hands under his shirt, so eager to feel his body underneath that I nearly ripped it open, like you see people do in films. I fumbled with the buttons instead, tearing at them impatiently.
And then I heard a door open, the bagpipes getting louder, a door shutting behind someone. I rolled off him, instinctively touched my hair, pressed my lips together. He sat up, pulling his open shirt across him.
Somebody walked behind us, crunching on the pebbles.
‘Evening,’ said a male voice with a Scottish lilt.
‘Evening!’ I called back, making some attempt to glance over my shoulder. I felt around for my blanket, pulling it across me.
We were silent for a bit. My heart returned to its normal rhythm.
Aidan smiled. ‘I don’t usually do that. Kiss women I barely know.’
‘Really? I thought you’d be king of the holiday romance?’
‘Well, this isn’t a holiday.’
‘True,’ I conceded.
‘Anyway, I’ve never actually had one.’
I gave him a disbelieving look. A man who looked like that? He had to have women pining for him all over the place. ‘Not even with all your travelling?’
His knee grazed against mine. I was tempted to stop talking and take up where we’d left off.
‘I don’t usually let myself get distracted by beautiful women while I’m working,’ he said.
I tucked my hair behind my ears, self-conscious, suddenly.
‘I’ve embarrassed you, haven’t I?’ he said.
I shrugged.
‘You are, though. Really beautiful.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Are you seeing anyone? Back in London?’ he asked.
I shook my head. ‘Too busy.’
‘Hmmn,’ he said, as though thinking deeply about what I’d said, trying to work out the subtext.
Ididn’t even know the subtext. Well, I could probably work it out if I thought hard enough about it, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment. I was having fun for once. Fun without the fear of consequences, because there was no way this was going to go anywhere. It was just a moment, on a beach, in Scotland. I bet that when I was back in London, I’d barely be able to remember it.
‘Relationships scare me a bit, if I’m honest,’ I said quietly. ‘I can never get the balance quite right. The idea that you haveto give enough of yourself so that the other person knows who you are, but not too much, in case it doesn’t work out. Because you’d fall apart completely, then, wouldn’t you?’
He looked as though he was contemplating this.
‘I don’t think you’d fall apart.’
Maybe not, but I wasn’t prepared to risk it.
‘What about you?’ I asked.
‘I’m not seeing anyone, either,’ he said.
It was a bit late for me to ask now, wasn’t it? This was what happened when you went around kissing people without thinking. He could have been married for all I knew, and then I would have felt terrible.
