He rose and gave her a kiss on each cheek, and she giggled. Actually giggled.
“Call me Linda.” Olivia’s jaw dropped. Her mum patted at her hair before waving toward Connor’s white jacket. “You’re a chef?”
“I am.”
“Have you been taking care of all my girls?”
Ashley burst into laughter. “Oh, yes, Connor’s been taking very good care of us. Especially Liv...”
Olivia sent her sister a death glare. “Connor, if you were wondering where Sophie and her friends are, they’ve gone to the beach,” she said, ignoring her mum’s puzzled expression. “Only us oldies left.”
He gave her an incredulous look. “I came to see you.”
“Oh.” Heat crept across her face, her flustered state not helped by the sight of him slowly stripping off his jacket to reveal a tight white T-shirt.
Muscles. It was all she could see. Biceps flexing beneath tanned skin, hard pecs outlined by soft cotton.
His eyes skimmed the hotel front before settling back on hers. “Will you take a walk with me?”
She swallowed to get the saliva moving again in her mouth. Part of her wanted to say no to prove to her family there was nothing going on. Yet when she glanced at him, the lines of strain around his mouth, the plea in his eyes, caused a tug in her chest. “Sure.” She pulled her cover-up over her head and turned to Ashley and her mum. “I’ll be back in a bit.”
“Take your time.” Ashley winked. “Don’t rush back on our account. We’re quite happy sitting here, aren’t we, Mum?”
“Of course.” She blinked like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing.
Olivia imagined her blinking a few more times as Connor, jacket thrown over his shoulder, reached for Olivia’s hand. And then a few more as Olivia wrapped her fingers around his and allowed him to lead her through the hotel and onto the path to Brant Point Lighthouse.
The Olivia who’d arrived here would have batted away his hand, told him she was more than capable of walking unaided. This Olivia worried she was becoming addicted to his touch, the rough feel of calluses as his palm brushed against hers.
They walked in silence for a while, her sensing he needed a few minutes to unwind and justbe.
“Are you okay?” she asked eventually as the lighthouse came into view.
“Just tired. I’ve worked double shifts the past two days.” He ran his free hand through his hair and let out a deep sigh. “I need to not be in the hotel for a bit.”
“You were working last night.” She thought she’d said it to herself until he let out a low laugh.
“You think I blew you off?”
They walked onto the sand. Ignoring the wooden bridge leading to the lighthouse, he led them instead toward the sea and a cluster of rocks. After finding a sheltered spot, he threw his jacket over one of the flat rocks and carefully lifted her onto it. Then he stepped between her legs, which parted unconsciously to let him in. “How many times do I have to tell you,” he said quietly, bright blue eyes pinned on hers, “you fascinate me and turn me on in equal measure. I want to get to know you, to spend as much time with you as you’ll allow me.”
Her heart thumped so loudly, it was almost all she could hear. “I still find it hard to believe you’re interested.”
His eyes narrowed. “Believe it. Just because I’m younger than you, just because I cook for a living instead of doing something more cerebral—”
“No. That’s not it. Not itat all.” She exhaled sharply. “God, okay, I’ll give that ego of yours a stroke. You’re ridiculously good-looking, Connor. Or as my niece and her friends would say, you’re stupid-hot.”
Dimples appeared on his cheeks. “You think I’m hot?”
“Yes, I think you’re hot,” she repeated with an eyeroll.
For a few beats his eyes smiled into hers, but then the temperature between them changed. She saw the moment it happened, when amusement gave way to arousal, to heat, darkening the blue in his irises and prompting a responding flood of arousal through her. “I’m going to kiss you now.”
She licked her tingling lips. “Good.”
He uttered a deep, guttural groan and then his mouth crashed down on hers, sending all the breath rushing from her lungs. And oh God,oh God. How had she gotten to thirty-nine and never felt like this, like she was melting onto the rocks, a boneless mess lost to everything but the feel of his mouth, his lips, the delicious sweep of his tongue? The rough stroke of restless hands as they moved from cupping her face to sliding down her arms to resting on either side of her bum and hauling her farther against him, positioning his rigid length exactly where she needed it.
Dear God, he was big, andhard. Perfectly, splendidly hard.
