by Joss Wood
She suspected that it was mostly Rob. He was an amazing lover. She’d felt safe enough to allow herself to lose control—to touch, to explore, to taste—and she had lost all her inhibitions in her quest to explore those long, lean muscles. That had never happened to her before.
With Wayne... No. No comparisons—no thinking about him.
Suffice to say that with Rob she felt energised. Sleep had been forgotten in the delight of his body. She remembered thinking that she hadn’t wanted the feast of touch and textures and taste and masculinity to end.
She still didn’t.
‘I need sustenance,’ Willa said on a long yawn. ‘What’s the time?’
‘Half-eight.’
Rob patted her butt to get her to move. He slid out of bed and walked across the ridiculously enormous bedroom to the balcony doors. He gripped the top of the doorframe and Willa rolled over on her stomach to look at his beautiful back, tight ass and long, muscular legs.
Hot damn, the man was sexy. Willa licked her lips and was suddenly conscious of her pounding head and the fact that her mouth felt as if a herd of llamas had bedded down in it during the night.
‘This is a hell of place you have here, Willa. Yours?’
‘Yeah.’ Well, it would be in a few weeks’ time.
This massive house she’d moved into eight months ago still didn’t feel like her home. But the exclusive property would form part of her divorce settlement—along with her Mercedes and a hefty donation to her bank account. She’d wanted to walk away with nothing, just to get rid of Wayne, but Kate, her lawyer and now a good friend, had refused to allow her even to go there.
‘He cheats, he pays,’ Kate had told her, over and over again.
‘Where exactly are we?’ Rob asked. ‘Is that Sydney harbour bridge?’
‘Yep.’
Willa stood up, wrapped a sheet around her torso and ducked under his arm to move onto the veranda off the bedroom.
She leaned against the railing and pointed down to the jetty that kissed the crystal-clear water below. ‘At the end of the garden is a gate that leads onto that path, and via that jetty I have direct access to Parsley Bay. I can swim, snorkel, kayak, or picnic in the beautiful neighbouring parkland.’
Willa turned her back to the bay and looked at him.
‘It’s a big house on a big plot of land—six bedrooms, four bathrooms, lots of living space and decks. Double garage. Private.’
‘And you live here all alone?’ Rob asked, sceptical.
‘Ridiculous, isn’t it?’ Willa replied lightly, not wanting to go into details about her failed marriage. ‘The house is cold and empty and it should have kids running around in it, pets, people visiting and loud parties...’
‘Well, it will today.’
Willa looked at him blankly.
Rob grinned and she caught a flash of white teeth and the glint of the sun in his stubble. ‘Honey, you have a bunch of people arriving for a barbecue...’ he looked at his watch ‘...later this morning.’
It took a moment for her to remember that she’d invited the entire Whitsundays gang—not just her old friends—for a barbecue this morning.
Grabbing Rob’s wrist, she looked at the dial of his watch and let out a low wail of panic. She had nothing in her house to eat, no booze, and the fact that she had to entertain people she hadn’t seen in years—not to mention dealing with this very sexy souvenir from the night below—had panic crawling up her throat.
She couldn’t do this,—she really couldn’t. Maybe she could hustle Rob out through the front door and she could escape out the back—hightail it to her canoe and belt her way up the bay.
Opening her mouth like a fish desperate for oxygen, she stared at Rob in horror.
‘Take a breath, Willa,’ Rob suggested on a slow grin.
Willa slapped her hands against her cheeks and gasped as the sheet dropped and fell over the lounger. Rob’s eyes darkened with passion and his penis started to swell. Willa saw what was happening, lifted her hand and tried to step away from him—she really did. But her legs weren’t doing much listening. In fact they were taking her to him!
‘No! No! No, no, no, no, no, no! I don’t have time, Rob!’
Rob’s thumb drifted over her nipple and Willa felt her resolve weaken. How could she just look at him and feel prickly and horny and...wet? Get a grip, Willa. But one more time her body whispered its demand. One more thrilling, amazing orgasm or...four.
‘I want to take you here, on this lounger, in the morning sun.’
‘God, Rob... It’s out in the open. The neighbours....’
Why was she even thinking about doing this? Was she mad?
‘Nobody can see us, Willa. This balcony was built for privacy,’ Rob said, sliding his hand between her thighs.
Willa instantly melted.
‘Here...in the sun, Wills. Say yes.’
‘Yes.’ Willa sighed, looping her hands around his neck and slapping her naked body against his. As if she’d ever had any chance of saying no.
* * *
Ding-dong! Ding-dong!
Willa’s eyes shot open and she bolted upright in bed. Fudge, was that the doorbell? That couldn’t be the doorbell, there was no way that it was eleven already...
Ding-dong. Ding-dong.
Dammit, it was the doorbell, and the doorbell meant guests. Arrrggghhhhh. She was in such trouble...
Rob groaned and opened one eye. Willa glared down at him. ‘This is your fault!’ she hissed.
‘Huh? Why?’
Willa shot out of bed and ran to her walk-in closet, reaching for clean underwear and a pair of shorts. Grabbing a denim pair that were more holes than fabric, she yanked them on.
‘“I want to take you here, on this lounger, in the morning sun...”’ Willa growled, imitating his deep voice. ‘“Just come back to bed for a little while,” you said. “we have time,” you said!’
‘We must have dozed off.’ Rob rolled over, taking the sheets with him, and squinted at his watch. ‘Huh—ten-forty. Someone is early. Either way, it seems we’re out of time.’
‘You think, Einstein?’ Willa barked, yanking on a tank top and pulling her hair up into a haphazard tail. ‘I need a shower, to brush my teeth...’
‘Slow down, gorgeous...’ Rob suggested, standing up and stretching.
Willa glared at him as the doorbell chimed again. ‘Keep your pants on,’ she muttered, and then pointed to Rob. ‘You too, hotshot.’
Rob grinned at her. ‘I’m going to have a shower first...’
‘I hate you!’ Willa barked, before rushing out of the bedroom and down the stairs.
Through the stained glass windows of the door she could see two people on the other side. Yanking it open, she was relieved to see Amy and Jessica on her front steps.
‘Thank God it’s you!’ she stated, holding her hand to her head, hoping to keep it from exploding. God, she had the headache from hell. What had been in those cocktails? Liquid mercury?
‘Are you okay, Wills? You look...frazzled,’ Amy said.
‘I am frazzled,’ Willa admitted. ‘God, can I cancel this?’
Amy stepped into the double volume hall and whistled her appreciation as she turned in a circle. ‘Hell, no, you’re not cancelling a damn thing—and...wow, Wills, this house is a hell of a divorce settlement.’
‘Kate’s a hell of a divorce lawyer.’
And she wasn’t letting Willa settle for just a house. She was, as she frequently told Willa, better and meaner than that.
Willa took a seat on the bottom step of the floating staircase. ‘She’s the sharpest tool in the shed; you’d like her, Amy.’
‘If she’s helping you bury Wayne-the-Pain then I like her already,’ Amy agreed.
The Pain. Suc
h an apt moniker.
‘Anyway...can we concentrate, here? I have a cracking headache from those cocktails, I have God knows how many people arriving at any minute, and I have nothing—repeat, nothing!—in this house to feed or lubricate them.’
Amy frowned. ‘Did you forget you invited us?’
‘Sorta...kinda....yeah.’ She couldn’t tell her friend that she’d been having too much fun playing with Rob to think about her guests. ‘What am I going to doooooo?’
‘You are going to go and have a shower. Jessica will greet anyone who arrives and Amy will shoot to the shops and grab food and drink.’
The deep, masculine, made-for-sin voice floated down the stairs.
Willa watched as Jessica and Amy’s heads shot up and quickly turned to see Rob, his hair wet from his ultra-quick shower, dressed in his clothes from the night before, walking down the stairs, bare feet sticking out from the ragged hem of his jeans. Their surprise turned to feminine approval and she groaned as two sets of perfectly arched eyebrows lifted in a silent question.
‘Way to go, Wills.’
Willa threw her hands up in defeat at Amy’s mischievous murmur. ‘Ah...Rob. Rob stayed over...’
‘I can see that,’ Amy stated with a grin.
Willa caught Amy’s eye and saw the glint of sisterly pride in her eye. So, didja have fun? she could imagine her asking, if Jessica and Rob hadn’t been there.
So much fun.
Thought you would. He looks the type who knows what he’s doing.
You have no idea, old friend.
‘You two done with your telepathic conversation?’ Jessica demanded as she put out her hand and hauled Willa to her feet. ‘Go shower, Willa. Amy, let’s take a look and see what Willa has so that you know what to buy.’
‘Nothing,’ Willa said mournfully. ‘I have nothing.’
‘Why do I have to get the food?’ Amy wailed.
‘Because it was your idea to do this,’ Willa retorted, hand still on her head. ‘There’s a deli down the road. They have everything... Just buy them out and I’ll pay you back.’
Willa looked at Jessica and pointed to her left.
‘Kitchen that way. Through the French doors of the kitchen—and off all the rooms on that side of the house—is a covered patio and the pool. Chairs, tables—all outside. Outside kitchen...grill. Go wild.’
Amy whistled her appreciation. ‘As I said, Wills, it’s a helluva settlement.’
Yeah, Willa thought as she climbed the stairs to the second floor and her bedroom. All I had to do was put up with crap and be an aimless, thick trophy wife for eight years.
CHAPTER THREE
ROB TOOK A call on his mobile and thought that if he didn’t get coffee into his system in the next few minutes he’d find himself face-down on Willa’s expensive floor, whimpering like a little girl.
He’d thought he had stamina—he regularly took part in triathlons, ran eight miles five days out of seven, and hit the gym several times a week. Yet rolling around in the sheets with Willa had sucked every last atom of energy from him...
Rob grinned. Best fun he’d had—in or out of bed—for ages.
But now coffee...stat. He’d grab a cup, kiss Willa goodbye and move on out. It was what he did and he did it well... He should—he’d had a hell of lot of practice at it.
Shoving his mobile into the back pocket of his jeans, he walked across the hall towards the feminine voices drifting down the passage from what he presumed was the kitchen.
‘So, did you ever meet Willa’s husband?’
Rob slammed to a stop and cursed... She was married? Crap, crap, crap. He didn’t do married women—it was one of his hell, no! rules. She didn’t wear a ring but...crap!
‘About to be ex-husband,’ Amy corrected, and he resumed breathing again. ‘They’ve been separated for about eight months.’
Good—that was good. Not perfect, but a helluva lot better than married.
‘What’s he like?’
Rob leaned his shoulder into the wall a couple of metres away from the kitchen door, knowing that if he went in Willa’s friends would stop talking. Girls tended not to dish the dirt on about-to-be-exes when the guy one of them had had a one-night stand with was in the room.
But he was curious.
He wanted more information on Willa, who interested him far more than she should for a one-night stand. That was something he needed to think about...but only when he’d had coffee and a solid eight hours’ sleep.
‘Wayne... Yeah, I was with Willa when they met for the first time.’ Amy’s voice had a faraway quality that suggested she was recalling memories from long ago.
‘And?’ Jessica’s voice sounded impatient.
Amy took a while to answer and Rob mentally urged her to get a move on.
‘Slick,’ Amy said eventually. ‘Slick as snot. A lot older than Willa—I think he was in his mid-thirties when they first met...’
‘You didn’t like him,’ Jessica stated.
‘Yeah, instinctively didn’t like him,’ Amy agreed. ‘I was just frustrated, I guess. Willa was a kid so desperately in need of fun, a good time, letting her hair down, and I was showing her how to do that... God, we were having a blast! Partying up a storm, flirting up a bigger storm...we ruled the resort.’
‘You mean you ruled and Willa was your sidekick,’ Jessica said, dryly.
Rob grinned at that.
‘Then she met Wayne and she... How do I explain this? She shrank in on herself and became the perfect girlfriend—cool, calm, collected. With him she was eighteen going on eighty. Crazy Willa left the building.’
‘Since she was slamming down those cocktails last night, I think crazy Willa is back,’ Jessica said, and Rob could hear the grin in her voice.
‘Not by a long shot. And she wasn’t anywhere near being drunk, trust me, that girl can hold her booze. When she’s really drunk she ends up singing eighties ballads and taking her clothes off.’
Rob’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. He’d like to see that.
‘She can be a wild woman,’ Amy added.
Rob had the nail-marks on his butt to prove that point.
‘But with Wayne she stopped having fun. I suspect that last night was the first time she’s had some real fun—proper fun—since she got married. She’s a little sad, scared, and a lot lonely. I feel sort of protective of her...’
So did he.
Huh?
Rob looked down at his bare feet and instead of heading for the kitchen—caffeine, shockingly, could now wait—he walked through the sun room and headed for the sunlight-dappled deck: expensive outdoor furniture, a pizza oven built into the wall and an island holding a gas stove and a fridge. A ten-seater wooden dining table with benches on either side dominated the kitchen end of the deck, and cane couches and chairs with blue and white striped cushions filled the rest of the space. The large, rectangular pool looked cool and inviting and he wished he could dive into its clear depths.
He loved to swim—did some of his best thinking in the water.
So Willa had been married...was still, technically, married...to a guy who was a lot older than her and obviously rich. Her eyes held shadows within them that suggested long-term unhappiness; he recognised those shadows—he’d seen them in his mum’s eyes every day she’d been married to Stefan.
Which was all on him. Because when she’d told him that Stefan had proposed, wondering what he thought, he’d said that she should take the plunge. Stefan had been his dad’s best friend—her friend. Their second dad. She’d liked him, they’d liked him...what could go wrong? He’d just wanted her to be happy again, and—he had to be honest here—he’d known he would feel a lot more comfortable going off to uni across the country if he knew that Stefan was looking after Mum and Gail.
>
That hadn’t worked out the way he’d thought it would.
When he’d finally got to the root of the problem—when his family had disintegrated around him for the second time—he’d felt his heart rip apart. It had been like losing his father all over again, and along with that he’d waved goodbye to his innocence and his faith in people.
And he’d kicked trust over a cliff.
Rob ran his hand along his scruffy jaw. Where was this coming from? He’d been thinking about Willa’s sad eyes and then he’d started thinking of his past and his failure in the interpersonal relationships department.
Huh...
But the fact remained that he didn’t like the idea of Willa feeling sad...
He’d slept with her once and he was already giving her more thought than he’d given all his past flings put together. Something was very wrong with this picture...
Because he didn’t play games with other people—and especially with himself. He had to admit that he kind of liked the fact that Willa was still married, if only legally. It was a minor barrier, but a barrier nonetheless—something to help him keep his emotional distance, to remind him not to become any more involved than he should be. Than he liked to be, wanted to be, could afford to be...
One friggin’ night and she’s turning your head upside down. Get a grip, Hanson! You just want to sleep with her again, his sensible side argued. There’s no need to go all dark and broody and—what was the word Gail had used the other day?—‘emo’ about this. It’s just sex. You know that after a couple of days you’ll get bored and want to move on. So ask for another night, or two, or three, but just stop bloody brooding already. And get it into your thick block that she’s no different from the others...
Except that she is, he thought.
Very different... She had to be if he was thinking about her like this.
Rob dropped his long frame into the nearest chair and groaned loudly.
Get the hell out of her house and her life, moron, he told himself. Now. You’re looking for trouble—inviting complications in through the door. The night is over, the sun is high in the sky and if you’re thinking that she is remotely special then your ass should be on fire, trying to get the hell away. Be smart about her, dude. Get your cup of coffee, say your goodbyes, and get the hell out of Dodge. You never stay this long—you rarely spend the night.
