“She means Jordan,” Gwen murmured.
“Oh.”
“Perhaps he wasn’t invited,” Neil said, with a sneer at Eric. “After all, he’s hardly the sort of person to appreciate a fine boat like this.”
“I think the word you’re looking for is ship,” Eric corrected.
EJ exchanged glances with Gwen and motioned to the platter of fruit and cheese on the outside dining table. “This is certainly the way to see Sydney Harbour.”
“Champagne, anyone?” Eric said, gesturing forward a white-clad crew member, who approached with a bottle of Dom Perignon and corkscrew.
Seriously? She’d heard of champagne breakfasts, but this seemed a little excessive.
There was a pop, a gush of champagne, then glasses were filled. One was shoved into EJ’s hand. “Oh, but—”
“But nothing,” Gwen said firmly. “It’s the weekend, it’s a beautiful day, we’re out on the harbour, so let’s enjoy. Okay?” She clinked glasses and watched as EJ sipped her drink.
Mm. It was just as nice as the glass she’d had at the Opera House all those weeks ago.
She glanced across and saw Eric watching her, a crooked smile on his face. She raised her eyebrows at him, and his smile broadened. “It seems like you are becoming a little more used to that.”
Why did he have to spoil a moment by saying things like that? She placed the glass down.
“Oh, don’t be offended. It’s nice to see the good girl letting her hair down a little.”
“I’m not good.”
He eyed her, heat in his eyes, and the fluttering sensation she’d experienced previously took flight in her chest. Well, maybe she was good, a little too good, because she’d never felt like this with anyone before.
The conversations of the others faded as Eric drew closer, his gaze fixed on hers. He didn’t seem to mind that the others were still nearby, watching. He seemed only interested in her.
“Are you sure you’re not good?” he asked in a low voice only she could hear.
Something protested, but she ignored it, as he drew closer still, then reached up and pushed a strand of hair from her eyes.
From this distance, she could see the golden specks in his dark eyes, could see the tiniest haze of reddish stubble on his chin, could see the way his lips were so quick to move.
She wondered what those lips felt like, tasted like. And shivered.
“Are you cold?” he asked.
The others had moved away, Neil pointing out the view to his girlfriend.
“Don’t look at them. Look at me.”
She returned her gaze to Eric, her heart beating fast.
“Areyou cold?”
“No.” Warmth cascaded within. She felt flushed with heat. Maybe that was the effect his gaze had on her.
“Come here.” He lifted an arm and drew her close, tucked against his chest.
She could smell his aftershave, feel the buttons of his shirt press against her cheek. Closed her eyes as the moment threatened to overwhelm her. She was being hugged by Eric Churchill! He was kissing her forehead. Caressing her cheek!Oh my! Oh my! Ohmy!
His lips slid to her cheek, and then she realised he was going to kiss her. He was going to kiss her!
And she hadn’t been kissed since high school, when a boy at the year 12 formal had placed his lips on hers, shocking her, and Jordan had quickly intervened. Since then, she’d kept her lips to herself, thank you very much, and focused her energies onwork, work, work. The subject of boyfriends, let alone kissing, had always been far from her mind. Besides, there had always been Jordan to run interference for her when men had been a little too interested. But there was no Jordan now. She was on her own. Just like she’d wanted.
