“Zara! Hey, over here!” I follow the voice to see a frantically waving arm. It’s Jared, the guy I met at the hotel yesterday, sitting at a table on one of the shaded café terraces. He gets up, weaving his way through the diners to me. “G’day,” he says, leaning in to brush his lips against my cheek. He smells nice, like coconut and a hint of musk.
“Hello,” I say, slightly flustered.
“What are you doing? You coming for a drink?” He gestures to the table where he’s been sitting. There’s another guy sitting there, blond with legs outstretched.
“Oh, I don’t know if I can. I’m supposed to be meeting my boss,” I glance at my phone, “in a half hour or so.”
“Plenty of time for a drink, then,” Jared says, with a wicked grin. “Come on. My shout.”
Yielding to the inevitable I let him lead me through the tables to join his companion. Why the hell not, I think, as I sit down. Myles doesn’t need me right now; he’s made that abundantly clear, so I might as well enjoy myself. I’m supposed to be getting over Dean, and Jared seems as good a way to do so as any.
“This is Doug,” Jared says. The blond at the table stands up. He’s stocky and tanned, with white zinc suncream smeared across his nose and cheekbones.
“G’day.” He holds out his hand. I shake it. “What can I get you?” He jerks his head towards the bar.
“Uh, that looks nice.” I gesture to his drink. It’s pale, in a tall glass with lime.
“One beer coming up, then,” Doug says with a grin, heading for the bar.
I stare after him with my mouth open.
Jared laughs. “Don’t mind him,” he says. “So, tell me about this boss of yours. Why is he letting a beautiful woman like you wander about alone?”
“Why wouldn’t he?” I say. Then I blush. “Oh God, I mean?—”
Jared laughs even more. “Just taking the piss, mate. The only thing you need to worry about around here is bad boys like me.” He winks at me. “This has got to be one of the nicer places on the planet to drink a beer, don’t you think?”
I nod, laughing as well. “It is.” We’re sitting on a stone terrace, a canvas sunshade stretched over us, the sea licking against the wall below. Waves sparkle in the sunlight like a thousand points of glitter, yet beneath the large awning it’s cool and shady, the breeze refreshing on my hot cheeks. Jared smiles at me, his eyes crinkling attractively at the corners. He’s very cute, I realise, especially when he laughs, his arms nicely muscled under his T-shirt. Doug returns with my drink and the three of us clink glasses before drinking.
A while later I’m feeling very relaxed, when I’m distracted by a buzzing noise. It’s my phone. I grab it, horrified to see several messages from Myles popping up onscreen, all asking where I am with an increasing number of exclamation points and cursing.
“Everything all right?” Jared, his arm across the back of my chair, leans forward. I put my phone in my bag.
“It’s just my boss. Shit. I lost track of the time.”
“That’s the magic of Morocco, babe,” Doug says with a grin. “Come for a week and end up staying two months without even realising it.”
“Well, it’s not an option for me.” My relaxed feelings slip away as I get to my feet, pushing my chair back. Myles is going to be furious. “Sorry, I really do need to run. What do I owe you for?—”
“My shout, remember?” Jared grins up at me. “You can get me next time.”
“Next time?”
“Sure,” He lifts a shoulder. “I’ll be down at the BBQ area later. Come and find me.”
“I-I will,” I say, warmth blooming in my chest. “And, thanks.”
My phone is buzzing even more and I know I need to go. I leave the café, hurrying back towards the alley, hoping Myles won’t be too upset with me.
Myles
Where the hell is Zara?
I shouldn’t have told her to go and explore, but she was so damn distracting, sitting on the stool with her long legs crossed, a shadow of cleavage under her blouse as she leaned forward to look at the rugs, that I couldn’t keep my head on the deal at hand.
It wasn’t her fault, and I’d felt like a monster again as the light faded from her eyes when I told her to meet me in an hour. I know she’ll be thinking I don’t need her, when it’s the absolute opposite.
And now she’s not where she’s supposed to be, and I’m trying not to panic. I send what is probably the twentieth text message, hoping she might answer me. If she doesn’t, I’ll be straight onto my tech guys to trace her phone location.
