Cruise Control

by Sarah Mayberry

  Danny shrugged again, but when she just raised an eyebrow he rolled his eyes and caved in. “Okay, you got me. I’m working on him. If it kills me, I am getting him into my bed.”

  “Hmm. Has it occurred to you that perhaps Ben might be working on you, too?”

  Danny frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “He likes you, Danny. I think he wants to have a relationship with you.”

  Danny fidgeted uncomfortably. “He wants to sleep with me. He just has to wrap it up for himself so it’s acceptable. I’ll help him get over that, don’t worry.”

  Anna opened her mouth to comment further, but then it suddenly occurred to her that perhaps the same thing could be said of her brother—he was wrapping up his growing relationship with Ben as a seduction, when in fact he was genuinely growing to care for the other man. Maybe the only way for her brother to face the idea of a potential relationship was to sneak up on it. Or, more accurately, for the relationship to sneak up on him.

  “So, what’s up? What have you done now?” Danny asked, throwing himself back into his chair.

  “Why do you think I’ve done something wrong?”

  “You’ve got that frightened rabbit look in your eye. Come on, spit it out.”

  “I invited him on holiday to Bali with me,” she admitted meekly.

  Danny whistled. “Nice. Staying the night, and making plans.” He enumerated the rules she’d broken on the fingers of one hand. “Next you’ll be lying in each others arms naming the kids and working out which schools they’ll go to.”

  Anna stiffened, a panicky feeling invading her stomach. “I know I made a mistake. I just need help to undo it. Please.”

  He blinked. “I don’t see how you can. You can’t uninvite someone. Didn’t Mom teach you anything about manners?”

  Anna sighed. “Why do I always have to make things so messy?”

  Danny studied her for a beat. “Why’d you ask him?”

  “I wasn’t thinking. It just popped out of my mouth.”

  “You must have wanted him to come or you wouldn’t have asked.”

  “I honestly didn’t give it too much thought.”

  “Hmm.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well…You sure you’re not falling for this guy?”

  Her denial was instant. “No. I’m attracted to him, that’s all. And he’s a nice guy, I like being with him. But it’s just about sex, really. I mean, we have really, really, really good sex,” she said, almost convincing herself.

  “Yeah, all right, I get the message,” Danny said, frustration showing in his voice. “Your love life is stellar. Have a little consideration for those of us in the cheap seats.”

  “Sorry.”

  “You know, it’s not the end of the world if it does turn into something more,” Danny said. “Plenty of flings have turned into relationships in the history of the world.”

  Anna stared at him. This was not what she wanted to hear.

  “Marc Lewis and I are having a fling, period. There is no relationship, future or present. Neither of us want that, I assure you. I have plans. He has an ex-wife to deal with. This is definitely just a fling.”

  “Whoa, back off there, Cujo. I was just saying that sometimes you need to be flexible. These things aren’t always black and white, are they?”

  “For us they are.”

  “Okay. It’s your life.” Danny shrugged.

  “Thanks,” she muttered. “Look, I’d better go buy a swimsuit.”

  “Go red. You look good in red,” Danny said.

  “Okay. And good luck with the racquetball.”

  That wiped the smile off his face. Healthy to remind him she wasn’t the only one navigating her way through a complicated personal life at the moment.

  “Thanks,” Danny said drily, and she kissed him goodbye.

  “I’ll bring you back a knockoff Rolex or something,” she promised.

  “Only if it’s bad-taste chunky and it breaks in a few days,” Danny joked.

  She glanced back over her shoulder as she exited, and Danny was crossing the hallway to Ben’s office. She wasn’t sure who she was backing to win—Ben, or her brother. She had a sudden whimsical thought—maybe they both could win. Then she shook her head, thinking of her own situation. Someone always ended up losing in these situations. The trick was getting out before feelings ran too deep.

  MARC SETTLED BACK into the well-padded seat and stretched out his legs. Beside him, Anna was still trying out all the gadgets that came with being in the first-class cabin.

  “I still can’t believe you upgraded my ticket,” she said as she fiddled with the seat controls.

  She was like a kid with a new toy, and he felt an unexpected surge of pleasure at seeing her enjoyment. In truth, he’d upgraded her because he was rich enough to command the comforts of life—but her enjoyment was a nice bonus.

  It had been hell getting out of his tight business schedule on such short notice, but he’d done it. He was looking forward to having a break. And after the past week of self-denial and abstinence, a week away with Anna was just what the doctor ordered.

  He’d regretted his boorish behavior as soon as she was gone that night, but it wasn’t until the day after he’d insulted her and sent her packing that he’d realized how much he craved her. That alone was enough to convince him he’d made the right decision. But he’d underestimated his desire for her. And it wasn’t just her body he wanted. He missed her jokes. The way she had of arching an eyebrow at him, calling him on his bullshit. And the way she was happy to cherry-pick the things she was good at in life and let the rest go to hell—like being great behind the wheel but useless in the kitchen.

  He liked her. That was what it was. She had become, dare he say it, a friend. And he’d hurt her. That had put the whole situation in a different light. And when he’d found the bag of gourmet foodstuffs she’d brought around, he’d felt like the world’s biggest arsehole.

  Admitting to himself that he missed her was hard. But he did it. Once he’d surrendered to the realization, it hadn’t seemed quite so bad. There was no reason for them not to take up their relationship from where they’d left off, after all. If he could win her back, apologize, there was every chance they could continue seeing each other, no strings attached. It suited her. It certainly suited him. What did he have to lose?

  He glanced across at Anna as she accepted a glass of champagne from the stewardess. She’d said yes. She was in his life again. She caught his eye, smiled slightly and settled back in her seat, flicking through the in-flight magazine, for all the world as though she didn’t have a care in the world.

  She was wound up about something, though. She was hiding it well, but he could feel the tension thrumming through her body. He considered asking what was wrong, but then he reminded himself of their deal. They were both here for fun. If she wanted to talk about anything, she’d bring it up. She was a straight-up kind of woman, and neither of them wanted to burden the other with unnecessary baggage.

  The plane began to taxi, and she put the magazine down.

  “I’m so sleepy now,” she confessed. “I shouldn’t have had all that champagne in the lounge.”

  “Then sleep,” he advised.

  “But then I’ll miss out on all this luxury,” she said, eyeing the cabin.

  Her bottom lip pouted sexily, and he eyed it for a long beat. How long was this flight again? Six hours? He forced his eyes—and his mind—away.

  “I’ll wake you if anything really decadent happens,” he promised.

  She wasn’t entirely convinced, and she made a valiant effort to stay awake, but within an hour her head had drifted onto his shoulder and she was breathing steadily. He looked down at her, admiring the way her eyelashes fanned darkly against her creamy skin. Smiling faintly, he spread her blanket over her knees, just in case she got cold. Then he stayed very still, so he wouldn’t wake her.

  Even she had had her fill of first-class travel
by the time they landed in Bali’s Denpasar airport.

  It was dusk, and the air was dense with humidity as they exited the airport terminal. Marc looked around with interest as their driver led them through row upon row of parked cars until he at last found his limo. Even after just a few minutes of humidity, the air-conditioning inside came as a welcome relief.

  “Oh, dear,” Anna said, pulling her T-shirt away from her skin. “I hope it’s not going to be too hot for me.”

  Marc tore his eyes away from the dark shadow of cleavage that her plucking movements revealed. If he had his way, this would be the hottest week of Anna’s life.

  Their driver raced out of the airport, cutting and weaving through the city streets on his way to the tourist areas of Kuta, Legian and Seminyak. The streets were thick with other taxis ferrying recent arrivals like themselves, and in and amongst them all was a constantly changing tide of motorcyclists.

  Kuta was a frenetic hub of activity, the streets filled with people walking between clubs and restaurants, but as they moved into the quieter, less developed area of Seminyak there was more green, less commerce, and suddenly they were barreling down a seemingly deserted rural road, nothing but the occasional stone-tumbled house or rice paddy on either side of them.

  He heard Anna gasp with delight as she caught sight of their hotel, and he craned his neck to see as the taxi swept up the front drive. It was certainly impressive, the huge reception area shaped like an open-sided pagoda. Sandstone pillars, screens of carved wood and seemingly acres and acres of natural stone floor stretched across the foyer. An exotically dressed porter greeted them and took their bags, and they were escorted politely to a guest relations officer to check in.

  “I have a little confession to make,” Marc said as the guest officer fished out their reservation.

  Anna frowned, then a rueful expression came into her eyes as she saw the writing across the top of their forms.

  “You booked us a private villa?” she said.

  “I should have asked, I know, but my secretary was doing everything on the hop…”

  Anna shook her head, waving a hand to stop his lame explanation. “Just be honest—you’re used to being spoiled. Nothing but the best for Mr. Lewis.”

  It was true, he realized. “You’re right. I am spoiled.”

  “And a bit arrogant.”

  He ducked his head in acknowledgment. “True.”

  That teased a smile out of her. “And too charming for your own good,” she admonished.

  “Well, as for that, it’s not for me to judge whether I’m charming or not….” he said with mock modesty.

  She shot him a saucy look, and suddenly he was aware of how long it had been since he’d had her. She seemed to read his need, because she turned back and signed the register with alacrity.

  A porter appeared to see them to their room, and they passed down broad stone stairs out into the night, following a cobblestoned pathway lit with miniature pagoda lanterns around to the private villa area of the resort. The porter led them in through the gate which secured the walled garden of their villa and into a beautifully landscaped courtyard. They crossed over a small stone bridge to get to the entrance of the villa itself, and then they entered a roomy, airy, very modern yet distinctly Balinese living area.

  “I leave you,” the porter said politely. “Bedroom is upstairs. Please explore.”

  Bowing, he shook his head at the tip Marc offered, and slipped out of the villa. Anna dumped her purse and took off to explore. Smiling at her enthusiasm, Marc crossed to the wall of windows at the back of the villa. There was another exquisite courtyard outside, complete with a private spa, a lap pool, an open sided shade pagoda with curtains for lazing away the days and a couple of luxurious-looking sun lounges. He rolled his shoulders, trying to remember how long it had been since he’d had a holiday. A long time. In fact, he couldn’t remember the last time he and Tara had taken time out to just be with each other.

  Unbidden and definitely unwanted, Tara’s words came back to haunt him. You never asked why, Marc.

  “Marc! Get up here and check out the bathroom. I think I’ve died and gone to heaven!” Anna was standing at the top of the stairs, already half stripped, her eyes wide and excited.

  “I don’t give a stuff about the bathroom and you know it,” he growled, heading up the stairs after her. She just smirked at his intent expression and disappeared. He followed the sound of running water to find her stark naked, staring greedily at a huge spa bath, complete with a row of luxury bath products lined up beside it.

  “Last one in gets the tap end,” she said, but he grabbed her before she could step in, hands hungry on her breasts and hips and butt as he pulled her close.

  They kissed deeply, languorously, both tired from the plane trip, but needing each other nonetheless. He broke away briefly to shed his clothes, and then they slid into the water together. Ten minutes and lots of soapy, slippery hand work later, they slithered out again and fell onto a pile of towels, unwilling to be apart for even the length of time it would take to find the bedroom. Anna arched up toward him as he entered her, as always so sweet and tight, and he rubbed his five-o’clock shadow across her sensitive nipples.

  “Oh, yes,” she moaned, and he gave himself up to the task of satisfying his need for her.

  Afterward, they ordered room service and slid into fluffy hotel dressing gowns so they wouldn’t scare the waiter when he arrived. They snacked on satay skewers and the ubiquitous room-service club sandwich, swapping bites and laughing a little guiltily over the mess they’d made of the bathroom.

  Then jet lag and plain old exhaustion caught up with them, and they were standing side by side in the bathroom preparing to brush their teeth.

  “Of course you’ve got an electric toothbrush,” Anna scoffed as she squeezed toothpaste onto her more conventional brush.

  “Recommended by dentists everywhere, as a matter of fact,” Marc said archly.

  “Hmm. You’d buy an electric ear cleaner if they invented it, wouldn’t you?”

  “Got one,” he said, deadpan. She eyed him for a moment, then obviously decided he was having her on.

  “I bet you’re a good poker player,” she said, speech muffled as she began brushing her teeth.

  He just raised an eyebrow mysteriously, switching his brush on and concentrating for a moment on the mundane act of dental hygiene. His mind wandered, as it often did when he was brushing his teeth, and he got something of a shock when he came back to the here and now and caught sight of their reflections in the mirror. He and Anna, both of them with floppy, towel-dried hair after their antics in the spa, clad in twin bulky white dressing gowns, their mouths foaming with toothpaste.

  It was a ridiculously domestic scene. A comfortable, familiar scene. And disturbingly intimate as a result. He rinsed and spat out his toothpaste, cleaned off his brush and smiled vaguely at Anna before exiting into the bedroom.

  He stared hard at the carpet. He’d committed to spending a whole week with a woman he was supposed to be just sleeping with until he got her out of his system. He pictured her face in the mirror again, her skin shiny clean, her cheeks bulging like a chipmunk’s as she brushed her teeth, her eyes unfocused as she thought her own bathroom thoughts.

  She’d looked adorable. Utterly adorable. And he wasn’t in the market to adore anyone. Was he?

  He exhaled quickly, fighting off a surge of panic. He didn’t want to feel this way about Anna. He didn’t want to feel this way about anyone. Hell. Why had he agreed to come on this holiday? What had he been thinking?

  Anna walked into the bedroom, shedding her robe as she walked. Her breasts jiggled invitingly, their rosy tips drawing his eye. Okay, that was one good reason for coming to Bali. But it still left a hell of a lot of hours in between for them to fill up.

  “I am soooo tired,” Anna sighed as she threw herself onto the giant bed. Yawning hugely, she pulled the sheet up over herself, then reached across and switched off the
light on her side of the bed. She glanced across at him where he stood frozen halfway between the bed and the doorway, just barely containing his panic.

  “You coming to bed?” she asked, a frown pleating her brow.

  “Sure,” he said. He shed his own gown, tossing it on the chair at the end of the bed. Then he slid between the sheets, reaching quickly for the light on his side of the bed.

  And for the first time ever, he found himself in bed with Anna Jackson with sex the farthest thing from his mind. Hell. Hell. Hell. What had he done?

  “Good night,” she sighed, and he heard the rustle of linen as she made herself more comfortable.

  By contrast, he lay there like a log, stiff with tension, listening to the sound of her increasingly steady breathing.

  What was he doing here? How on earth had he allowed himself to slide into what was beginning to feel dangerously like a relationship?

  Brain whirring, he assessed his options. Today was Saturday. He could wait till Monday, then manufacture a work emergency. That way he could indulge himself in a bit of R&R, and then bail after two, maybe three days. He felt the tension ease from his body as he considered this plan from all sides and found a lot to like about it. After all, Anna had been going to come on this holiday alone, anyway. He’d just be giving her the best of both worlds.

  Instantly the tension was back as he imagined Anna on holiday alone. What if he left to go back to Australia and some cruising Lothario decided to try his hand? The thought of someone else in Anna’s bed made him grind his teeth. Then he reminded himself of the discussion they’d had in the hotel. She’d said she was a one-man woman. And he believed her. He trusted her.

  Again, the tension eased from his body and it was his last thought as he drifted off to sleep: he trusted Anna.

  SHE WOKE TO FIND a hard male body curled against her back, one hand flung around her waist. The body felt warm and firm and hairy in all the right places and she snuggled into it, wiggling her bottom to encourage a more perfect spooning action. Instantly she felt the nudge of Marc’s erection against the curve of her butt. She wiggled some more, and the erection hardened further. She bit her lip, remembering what he’d done with his soapy hands in the bath last night. She could feel herself slickening with desire, and she gave a little sigh of satisfaction as Marc nudged her leg forward so he could slide himself inside her from behind. His hand was firm on her hip as he rocked his pelvis, his erection hot and hard and slippery as it moved in and out, in and out.