‘She was working closely with Johan and I guess...’
Emilie’s eyes were glistening. ‘Rachel was my best friend; I still can’t believe she did what she did, but your brother...? That’s beyond bearable.’
He pictured Johan, larger than life, popular with his friends, fiercely loyal to the family and to the business. He shook his head. ‘They weren’t having an affair, I know that. Johan is too straight, too loyal. It’s exactly as Astrid said it was. She was getting to know Johan, feeling things that made her question her feelings for me.’ He felt a sharp twist in his gut. ‘But even so, to lose the only woman you’ve ever loved, ostensibly to your brother, and to not feel broken...?’ His heart was thudding, drumming in his ears. ‘It makes you question yourself and everything you thought you knew. It makes you ask yourself—What have I been doing all this time?’ He pressed the bottle hard against his forehead. ‘Turns out I don’t know the answer, and if I don’t know, then how can I trust myself?’
* * *
Emilie ran the tip of her tongue over her lower lip. Joel was zipping up the cool bag, his strong forearms moving deftly, his biceps flexing. It was hard not to stare, hard not to remember the way those arms had felt around her. At least he’d put on a tee shirt before they’d started eating. It would have been impossible to swallow a single bite staring at his tanned muscular chest.
He looked up. ‘Street food on the beach! Genius! Thank you.’ His eyes flickered with something that made her pulse vibrate. ‘And...thank you for listening.’
Listening had been hard, seeing his pain, because she could see pain folding him in half, even though he said he was numb. And that pain was making her want to reach out and touch him, take it all away. The sea breeze was playing in his hair, blowing tangled locks into his eyes. She felt her fingers itching with the memory of its softness. Breathe. ‘You don’t have to thank me for listening. You listened to me too, remember...’
He smiled, then pushed the bag aside and moved closer. ‘So we’re still friends. We’re cool after last night?’
Maybe it was the alcohol, or the warmth of his gaze, but suddenly, the sand seemed to be shifting beneath her knees. She wanted to kiss him, taste his lips again. The words he’d spoken were spiralling around in her head. What have I been doing all this time? Tom had left four months ago, but he’d stopped reaching for her a long time before that and she’d stopped reaching for him too. How long had she been holding on to nothing? She felt tears scalding her eyes.
‘Hey...’ Joel’s hand covered hers, squeezing gently. ‘What’s wrong?’
Concern in his eyes, but there was something else too, something that seemed to be flowing out of him and she wanted to pull it around her shoulders, cocoon herself inside it. She rose on to her knees, looking into his eyes. ‘Joel, what are we doing?’
His hand shifted to her waist, a steadying grip that made her belly flutter. ‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean...’ Her pulse was pounding in her throat, but she couldn’t stop now. Something was taking hold of her, heat, longing, muscle memory from the night before. She touched his temples, running her fingers down his jaw, through the soft thatch of his beard.
‘Emilie...’ His voice was low, ragged around the edges. He was right on the ledge with her and she wanted them to fall, together. She wanted some sweetness. After all the pain they’d been through, was that so wrong?
She swallowed. ‘I’m tired of wasting time, Joel.’ Something flickered behind his eyes. Agreement? It was enough. She leaned in, kissing his upper lip first, tasting, lingering over its soft rub, then she kissed his lower lip, drawing the tender heat of it into her mouth until a groan rumbled from somewhere deep in his throat, then his mouth was taking over, his lips scorching hers, and she was being pulled on to his lap but still, even with his strong hand at her back drawing her in, she couldn’t get close enough, couldn’t make her heart beat fast enough.
‘Emilie...’ It was more of a gasp than a word and then he was lifting her, lowering her on to the sand, crashing down beside her. His leg slid over hers and then his hand was under her knee, hitching her leg higher and closer, until she could feel the full hard length of him pressing against her belly. Then his lips were on hers again, but it was a slower kiss now, tender, yearning, every stroke of his tongue fuelling a deep immeasurable longing in her belly.
She slipped her hand under his tee shirt, stroking his smooth warm skin, losing herself in his deepening kiss, and then his hand was roaming too, teasing her breast, sliding over her hip, cupping her rear and it was too much to be feeling, too much. Then his lips moved from her mouth to her neck, scorching a ragged path to her ear. ‘What are we doing, Emilie?’
She felt his heart pounding through her skin, saw the heat haze in his eyes, but there was no confusion there, only longing and something else that made it hard to breathe. Go with the flow. She buried her fingers into his hair, pulling him in again. ‘We’re going with the flow, giving our hearts and minds a rest from all the things we can’t fix.’
‘Going with the flow?’ The corner of his mouth lifted, dimpling his cheek. ‘I’m not sure that this is—’
‘Please, Joel. Don’t let’s think too hard.’ Was she really saying this? ‘Let’s live in the moment, no strings okay, just us, just this...’
He seemed to hesitate, then he was shifting his leg, rolling sideways.
Her heart caved. She drew her arms over her face, feeling exposed. Stung. What had she been thinking? No strings! She wasn’t a fling kind of person, or was she? There’d never been a chance to find out because she’d only ever been with Tom. Was going with the flow the same as playing around? Kissing Joel didn’t feel like playing around. It felt real, meaningful, but maybe that was her imagination, a reflection of her own neediness. He’d kissed her back, had seemed to want her, but—
‘Emilie!’
She sucked in slow breath, lowering her arms.
He was holding out his hand, eyes still blue and hazy. ‘Let’s go.’
She bit her lip. ‘Where?’
He smiled. ‘Anywhere that’s private and sand-free.’
CHAPTER NINE
EMILIE SMILED FOR the hundredth time and she was glad that Joel couldn’t see because it was a silly, giddy, smile with raggedy, wobbly edges. That was what two mind-blowing hours in bed with him had done to her. She felt the slow spread of a luxurious tingle. Maybe regret would come when the tingling stopped, but thinking about that was impossible when he was behind her, planting kisses into her hair. She nestled against his chest, lifting her toes to turn on the tap. ‘Does this feel decadent to you?’
He shifted a little, then his warm breath was filling her ear. ‘Lying in the bath with a beautiful woman...in the middle of the afternoon...in the Caribbean...?’ His lips grazed the skin behind her lobe. ‘I would say so.’
She twisted so she could see his face, felt her heart skipping. ‘Are you happy?’
‘Yes...’ His eyes were hazy. ‘It’s a long time since I’ve felt like this.’
This? She snuggled back against him. She wouldn’t ask. Couldn’t! Asking him to pin feelings to what they’d just shared would be going against the no strings spirit. No strings! Her stomach dipped. What had she instigated? She wasn’t remotely casual about relationships and Joel wasn’t a player. He’d called himself unworldly—not that she’d have guessed it from the way he’d made love to her—and yet, on the beach, in the heat of the moment she’d scribbled out a script for them to follow—go with the flow—and he’d followed without too much encouragement. The thing was, not to read anything into that.
She pressed her lips together. Giving in to the attraction they’d been feeling was probably inevitable because they were in the same boat, damaged goods, looking for comfort. She spun the tap with her toes, shutting off the flow. She’d opened a casual door, but sifting through Joel’s looks and words, looking for
deeper meanings, wasn’t going to help her close it again, even if the look in his eyes had stilled her heart.
‘If you like him and he likes you, then enjoy it for what it is.’
Melinda’s wisdom! What this was, was a fling. That was how she’d sold it to Joel, so she’d have to put a chain around her heart because her heart was going to be her biggest problem. On the beach, when Joel had been talking about Astrid and his brother, she’d felt it flowing out to him in great big waves, but she’d have to curb that instinct. Fantastic sex was one thing, but imagining that it could lead to anything more, hoping that it could, would be like putting her hand in the fire. She’d been burnt badly enough with Tom and she couldn’t put herself through that again. She liked Joel, liked the way he made her feel, but this was a band aid, a temporary friendship...with benefits!
She closed her eyes, breathing in slowly. This moment was only this: it was the firmness of his body; it was the sweet smell of the oils she’d added to their bath; it was his fingers tracing a line down her arm. Those were the sensations she could believe in, the things she could cling to if she must, but she couldn’t ask for more, hadn’t thought she wanted more... She pushed the thought away and picked up his hand. ‘You’re going wrinkly!’
He shifted a little. ‘Well, we have been in here for a while.’
She turned round, kissing his chin. ‘Maybe we should get out before we dissolve.’
His eyebrows arched. ‘I could think of worse ways to go.’
‘Dissolving?’ She scrunched up her face. ‘Ugh!’
He was straightening his legs, forcing her upwards, eyes full of mischief. ‘I meant dissolving into you.’
Maybe it was already happening. Her thighs felt as though they were melting into his, melting into the warm fragrant water swirling around them.
His eyes were darkening. ‘I think we should give it a try.’ His hands were sliding under her behind, easing her closer. She felt the dizzy drag of desire, felt his lips grazing hers. Her breath hitched. Straddling him, skin to skin, in the warm, deep water was stealing her focus, overloading her senses. It was too much... Almost! She smiled for the hundredth and second time, then kissed him back slowly. ‘Okay.’
* * *
Joel scanned the modest sitting room, feeling the twitch of a smile around his mouth. He hadn’t noticed anything about the interior on the way in because they’d tumbled through the door kissing, tugging at buttons and zips, Emilie yanking at his tee shirt. So much for exorcising the ghost of a kiss! Being cool—being friends—had lasted all of five minutes. Having a heart to heart had led to them being literally heart to heart, twice in bed and once in the tub. Maybe it had been inevitable. Playing games on the beach, flirting at the distillery... Last night, Emilie’s kiss had lit a fuse. On the beach when she’d kissed him again—such a tender, irresistible kiss—going with the flow had felt like the easiest thing in the world. But now what?
A sudden ache caught him between the temples. Emilie drew him like a magnet. He felt so completely present in her company, but he wasn’t whole, wasn’t in any kind of place for a relationship. Allowing himself to get attached would be insane, would muddle him up. He was passing through, only here for another couple of weeks, and he needed to solve the puzzle of Astrid, needed to make peace with the past because if he didn’t, he’d never find peace in himself.
He crossed to the kitchen sink, filled a glass, then turned, leaning against the counter. When they’d been making love, something in Emilie’s eyes had made him feel so alive, so wanted, that his lungs had emptied out, but she’d said, ‘No strings.’ No wonder! She’d been through so much with Tom. Tom was the reason she’d run away from him on the path the night before. She’d said she’d felt scared of kissing him because...
He sighed. She hadn’t needed to say the rest. He got it. She was bruised by the past and kissing meant letting someone in, letting someone get close. Usually! He raked his teeth over his lip. They hadn’t discussed rules, but tacitly they’d agreed. They were living in the moment. No strings! He sipped, then set the glass down. He’d never had a fling before. It was all new and a little confusing.
He ran his eyes over the worktop. At the far end there was a fruit bowl stacked with mangoes and bananas, and... He blinked. A Rubik’s cube? He went to pick it up, turning it over, looking at the jumbled squares on every face. That was him! Jumbled up, veins still tingling from that mind-blowing session in the bath. Had sex ever felt that good with Astrid?
He closed his eyes. That second summer on the island, he’d spent a lot of time noticing Astrid’s body. He might have been too shy to ask any of the girls at school out on a date, but he’d been as horny as any other seventeen-year-old boy. He’d caught Astrid checking him out too. There’d been a lot of ‘accidental’ hand-brushing when they’d been folding sails or passing a soda back and forth, then they’d started holding hands and kissing in the boat house. There’d been fire, but had they really been burning for each other, or simply burning with the novelty of teenage love? He felt a cloak of heaviness swathing his chest. He’d learned how to please Astrid in bed, but when was the last time she’d actually looked pleased? He opened his eyes, staring at the swaying palms and the ribbon of sea framed by the window. When had he stopped seeing Astrid, noticing her...and when had she stopped noticing him?
‘Hey!’ Emilie was padding across the floor towards him, smiling. She was wearing loose pants and a lightweight sweatshirt, her hair damp around the edges. Her face was still a little flushed. Her eyes darted to his hands. ‘Whoa! You’ve solved it!’
He looked down, surprised. He hadn’t even noticed his fingers moving.
‘How did you do that so quickly?’ Her eyes were wide. ‘I can’t have been more than two minutes getting dressed.’
He felt a vague uneasiness, like a shadow passing. ‘I was a geeky kid. I practised a lot.’ He swallowed. ‘Is it yours?’
She nodded, taking it from him. ‘My grandmother gave it to me years ago. She found it in a charity shop. Talk about random, but I’m kind of attached to it! I call her Ruby!’ She was twisting it, jumbling it up again. ‘I like the mechanics, the way it slides, but I’ve never been able to solve it!’ She handed it back to him, smiling. ‘Show me how you do it.’
His heart lurched, then a cold wave ran through him. ‘Show them you’re the best, Joel! You’ll beat them all! Get out there, son, and show them.’
‘Joel! Are you okay?’ She was in front of him, a frown settling around her mouth.
He swallowed hard. His pulse was banging. ‘Yes...’ He forced a smile out. ‘Just a flashback.’
‘To...?’
He felt the corners of his mouth tightening. ‘Lars...’
Emilie seemed to hesitate, then she took a breath. ‘Do you want to talk about it?’
He looked at her. Gentleness in her eyes, acceptance. It was nothing of a story, yet the memory had made his heart jolt. Maybe he should peel the corner back since talking to her had lightened him before. He shrugged. ‘I got a cube when I was seven. I was fascinated by it, loved the process of solving it. I got pretty quick at it.’
‘How quick?’
‘When I was eight, I was doing it in sixteen seconds or thereabouts.’
She blinked. ‘That’s amazing!’
He felt his gut twist. ‘Lars thought so too.’ He swallowed. ‘He started taking me to speed-cubing events, entering me...’ He swallowed again. ‘I went along with it to please him, but I hated it. When you asked me to show you, it came back. The ridiculous pressure!’ He felt his neck prickling, a distant anger coming closer, building like a storm cloud. ‘I was a quiet kid, shy. I didn’t like being looked at, watched, but Lars was always pushing. If you were good at something, you had to push it to the max. He’d never let a little thing just be a little thing!’
Emilie put her hand his arm. ‘Maybe he was just proud of you. If you w
ere shy, he might have thought that competing would bring you out of your shell...’
Her touch felt soothing, like balm. He drew in a calming breath. ‘Lars was proud, but he couldn’t see that I was happy just getting faster on my own. That wasn’t good enough and competing wasn’t good enough either.’ He took a breath. ‘It’s always been about winning with Lars. I can accept that he’s wired that way, but he’s never been able to accept that I’m not.’
She was frowning. ‘Is that why you didn’t want to go into the family business?’
‘Because of ancient resentment over speed-cubing competitions? No!’ Laughable! He lifted the cube, inspecting each face, then started twisting. ‘I hated those competitions, but I’ve moved on.’ He felt his fingers flying. ‘I don’t do anything because of my father, or to spite him. I didn’t join Larsson Lüning because I had my own business to grow. I’m my own person; I always have been.’ He gave the cube a final twist and held it up, smiling. ‘There you go!’
‘Blimey!’ Emilie’s mouth fell open. ‘You’re a prodigy.’
* * *
‘Here!’ Joel’s eyes were twinkling. ‘Your very first Painkiller cocktail!’
‘Impressive!’ She’d seen Painkiller chalked on boards outside the bars in Road Town, but she’d never had the time or the opportunity for sundowners before. She inspected it while Joel was settling himself beside her on the veranda step. It was rum-based, yellow because of the pineapple juice, opaque because of the cream. He’d garnished it with a slice of orange and a sprinkle of nutmeg. She nudged his shoulder. ‘The freshly grated nutmeg’s a nice touch!’
‘I wanted it to be perfect for you.’ He kissed her softly. ‘You set a high bar.’
The deep look in his eyes swept her back into bed, to the way he’d held her gaze as he’d moved inside her, adjusting his rhythm to every catch of her breath. She felt a blush coming. ‘Not with cocktails. I think you’re the cocktail daddy!’ She lifted her glass, then had a thought. ‘How do you say cheers in Swedish?’
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