Finding Forever on Their Island Paradise, page 6
‘As long as you also understand that it has nothing to do with you,’ he replied stiffly. ‘My personal life is complicated.’
‘Hmm...’
‘Hmm?’
‘Hmm,’ she confirmed. ‘I’ve researched you, remember? I’ve seen pictures of all those women on your arm. Maybe it isn’t complicated. Maybe you’ve complicated it.’
Something dark lit in his eyes. ‘You’re jealous?’
‘Jealous?’ She snorted. ‘Please. I’m not interested in a man who thinks “fawning” consists of an awkward conversation back and forth.’ She’d already walked ahead before she realised he’d stopped. She turned. ‘What?’
The darkness was still in his eyes, shimmering right at the surface like a monster in a lake. It was just as dangerous, too, she thought. One wrong move and she’d be snatched and dragged under.
But then he blinked and it disappeared. He began to walk again, ignoring her question.
‘You’re not the only person with a complicated personal life, you know,’ she said after a while.
‘You’re more open about yours.’
‘Am I?’ She glanced at him. ‘Besides knowing how many members my family consists of—and that I once dated Thad—what do you know about me?’
When he didn’t answer, she nodded.
‘Exactly.’
* * *
For all her talking, she really didn’t share details of her life. How had he only noticed that now?
Because he’d thought he knew about her. He’d thought knowing that she had younger siblings, a niece and a grandmother she clearly adored constituted knowing her. Same went for her past with the mayor.
But he didn’t know what kind of relationship she had with her siblings. She might adore her grandmother but not approve of Edna’s fiancé. Thad might have been the love of her life, and something had happened to break them up.
As he looked back on it, he thought the fact that he hadn’t noticed had been partly because of her. She talked so cheerfully, so openly and confidently, that simply listening to her drew people in. Created a false sense of intimacy that made them believe she was exactly who she presented herself to be.
But that was a trick. Something to prevent people from looking further. He knew that because he did the same thing. He could see through her facade now. Through that satisfied expression on her face to the pain just beneath.
She seemed satisfied that he didn’t know her, but she wasn’t. Why?
Then she looked at him, narrowed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.
He couldn’t remember the last time someone had stuck out a tongue at him. Probably when he’d been a kid. And it sure as hell hadn’t had this effect on him. Making him acutely aware of his blood, his skin. Both hot, heavy...
He had the sudden impulse to run into the ocean to cool down. It was an inappropriate reaction to someone so silly. Especially after what he’d been thinking. But he’d been completely taken aback by her sticking out her tongue. Not only because of the effect it had had on him, but because it...charmed him. Beneath his more sensual physical reaction, something twinkled and sparked. Something he’d never known existed. A lightness that seemed precious. In need of protection.
The strangest part of it all was that it made him want to smile. And that was more dangerous than anything else this woman had made him feel.
‘You’re upset,’ she accused now. ‘But you can’t get upset because I pointed out something that’s true.’
‘I’m not upset.’
‘You look upset.’
‘I’m not upset.’
‘You sound upset.’
He grunted, and tried to think of something that would stop this back-and-forth. ‘You’re proud of the fact that I don’t know much about you.’
She frowned. ‘I wouldn’t say “proud”.’
‘Satisfied?’
‘Satisfied,’ she agreed after a beat.
Instead of fighting the urge to smile this time, he allowed his lips to lift and found it easier than resistance.
‘You’re smiling.’
He stopped smiling.
‘No!’ she moaned. ‘No, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—’ She broke off on an exhalation. ‘You have a nice smile.’
That lightness exploded in his chest.
He took a breath. ‘Thank you.’
Her cheeks lifted as her mouth curved, making her eyes crinkle, but not dimming their sparkle.
She had a nice smile, too.
‘Okay, since I’m changing the subject so well these days, let me point out that you also seem satisfied at keeping things from me.’
He couldn’t deny that. ‘Yes.’
‘Why?’ she asked. ‘Why are we so happy to not share things? Surely we should be opening up to people. To be healthy or whatever...’
She kicked out a foot. Sand sprang from her toes and she grinned, absolutely delighted by such a small, simple thing.
His heart skipped.
Just a little—barely noticeable.
He noticed.
‘It’s too painful,’ he answered honestly, surprising himself. ‘To talk about things means confronting them. It’s easier to ignore them.’
‘Is it?’ She snorted a little, her joy of only a few moments ago fading. ‘I’ve always told my siblings that ignoring a problem won’t make it go away. And I believe that.’ She paused. ‘I guess I’m a hypocrite, because I ignore my own problems and hope they’ll go away.’
‘But you don’t ignore theirs?’
She angled her head in acknowledgement. Something about it made him want to know more.
‘They haven’t yet discovered that you don’t take your own advice?’
She crossed her arms, hugging her waist as if she were getting cold. But despite the ocean breeze and the time of day it was still warm. There were only a few stragglers on the beach in the distance, and that felt like an injustice.
People deserved summers on Penguin Island. To feel the sun on their skin during the early evening, its heat only a kiss. To see the blue sky mixing with red and orange as if it were an artist’s canvas.
People deserved light breezes. To see them fluttering through Morgan’s skirt, her hair, making her look like a summer goddess.
He wanted to worship at her feet.
No.
No, he agreed, affirming that cautioning mental voice. She was making him fanciful. Foolish. He didn’t do foolish. He did logic, and success, and when it was necessary seduction. As she’d pointed out, he had dated a lot of women. They’d all known what to expect, and he’d ensured the experience was pleasurable.
None of them had doubted his abilities beforehand, which made the fact that Morgan did smart a little. He wasn’t bad at flirting or seducing. He was just bad at it with her.
Which was exactly why seducing her was out of the question.
‘No,’ Morgan said finally. ‘They haven’t yet. I don’t... I think they don’t think about me as a person very often.’
It had taken a long time, and when her answer had come it had been so soft it might have been carried away by the wind if he hadn’t been so attuned to her voice.
She was smiling, but it wasn’t one of her bright, sunny smiles. It was a contemplative one. A sad one.
‘I didn’t mean to make you...’ He faltered.
He didn’t know what to say. The last time he’d felt so lost had been when he’d gone to see his father in the hospital. Gordon Abel had been sleeping at the time, and it had been disarming to see the man Elliott had sought approval from his entire life looking so weak.
Something had shifted inside Elliott on seeing that, and he’d left the hospital five minutes later.
Before his father could wake up and see him.
Before his mother and brother arrived.
He’d had no desire to spend time with his family when he was feeling so confused.
‘It’s not you, Elliott,’ Morgan said now with a soft sigh. ‘I’ve been ignoring my feelings so long that when they catch up to me I...’ She lifted her hands, then shook them in the air as if they were wet.
‘You keep absolving me from taking responsibility for things,’ he said.
‘I do not.’
‘You do. It’s a kind, innocent thing to do.’
‘Innocent?’ She stopped walking. Put her hands on her hips. ‘Innocent?’
He stopped walking, too. ‘It was meant to be a compliment.’
‘Not from you. You mean it’s naïve.’
‘Not coming from you,’ he said. ‘Coming from you, it’s innocent. I mean it.’
She snorted at him, like a bull letting out a warning, and he almost laughed. But then she began to walk again—stomping, really—and the insidious claws of insecurity gripped him.
Slowly, deliberately, he extricated each one. He’d run away from that feeling with his family, and he wouldn’t welcome it back with Morgan.
‘Stop,’ Morgan said.
He obeyed before he realised her voice had come from behind him; she’d stopped again. He moved towards her, but she lifted a hand.
‘No, stay there.’ She took a breath. ‘I shouldn’t have said that. It was rude.’
‘You shouldn’t have said what?’
‘That you saying “innocent” meant naïve. I attribute things to you that I shouldn’t. I’ve done it more than once.’
‘Morgan,’ he said on a sigh. ‘Why does it feel like we’re navigating a minefield every time we talk?’
‘Do you want the real answer to that? Or the one that’s going to keep everything the way it is?’
His heart began to pound, but he said, ‘The real answer.’
‘Because of the attraction we’re ignoring.’
CHAPTER SEVEN
WHAT WAS SHE DOING? What was she doing?
The simple answer was something stupid.
She tended to do stupid things when she slowed down enough to listen to her emotions. They made her feel uncomfortable. Made her think about the choices that had brought her to this point in her life. Made her aware of how tired she was of taking care of her family when they hadn’t asked her to. Not directly, at least.
‘Something stupid’ could describe her entire relationship with Thad. And now she was repeating it with Elliott.
‘What are you saying?’ Elliott asked, that darkness rippling over his face again.
‘Nothing.’ She shook her head. ‘Nothing. Forget what I said.’
‘No.’
‘No?’
He closed the distance between them. ‘No.’
He didn’t kiss her, but she knew he was going to. Why else would he be standing so close to her, with barely a whisper between them? She shivered, but it had nothing to do with the weather and everything to do with how aware she was.
Of her body. Of her feet against the sand, the breeze fluttering her skirt, her hair, the mist of the ocean teasing her skin.
Of his body. Of the tips of his toes touching hers, his hands almost trembling at his sides, his eyes intense, aroused, and focused entirely on her.
Of the sun slowly crouching behind the ocean at the horizon.
Of the waves crashing so close to their feet.
Of the privacy they had now that even the last few people at the beach had disappeared.
She tried to remember why stupid was bad. Dangerous. Instead, she said, ‘Touch me.’
He obeyed. Slowly he wrapped his arm around her waist. She rested her hands on the biceps she’d admired from a distance, kneading his muscles, feeling a thrilling rush of power because she could. She could smell him—a musky scent mingled with the salty air of the beach—and she closed the distance between them so their bodies were flush.
Now her breasts were pressed against his chest, her stomach against the firmness of his. And at the base of her stomach she felt his hardness against her, too. Heat travelled low, settling between her thighs, making her long to pull him to the ground, push him onto his back and straddle him.
Her eyes lifted. He was still looking at her, with a hooded stare that made her feel hotter. His tongue slipped between his lips, as if he could already taste her there, and her core turned into lava as she imagined what it would be like if he did taste her.
Elliott seemed to agree, because now he was leaning forward. Her lips parted in response and his gaze dipped to it. He leaned even closer...
Then he stopped.
‘What?’ she choked out.
‘You want me to do all the work?’ His voice was hoarse, seductive. ‘How will I know you want this if you don’t take some initiative?’
She pulled his head down and kissed him.
Her stomach swooped. Dropped down to the pits of the earth at the contact. Soft and hot, the kiss was like the feel of a roaring fire after being out in the snow. There was something calming, something reassuring about it even as it heated her. Never before had she been so aroused by a simple meeting of lips. Never before had something so sweet made her body prickle, her nipples harden, her centre ache.
She pulled back in surprise, but his hand slid into her hair and brought her back to his mouth. His other arm still encircled her, pulling her in tightly, securely, and she felt safer than she had in a long time.
Even though she knew she wasn’t safe.
Even though she knew what they were doing was dangerous.
He was threatening everything she’d thought she knew, everything she wanted to uphold, and it made no sense for her to feel so...so right in his arms.
The thought left her head when his tongue swept into her mouth. He tasted of nothing discernible—and everything she craved. Her arms went around him, pulling him even closer than before. She wanted to be a part of him—no, she wanted him to be a part of her.
Another dangerous thought.
An intimate thought that came from passion and lust and nothing that she understood.
She loosened her grip on his body but didn’t let go. Instead she ran her hands over his body. Over the hard muscle of his back, the broad shoulders and narrow waist. She lingered there, lifting on to her toes so he was positioned between her thighs, then squeezing his butt to bring his hardness to her core.
She shivered as he traced a path over her curves. He stopped at her thigh, digging his fingers into the plushness there before he shifted and rested his hand on her behind. His free hand played with her hair, and his tongue... His tongue played a game with hers. A slow, erotic, pleasurable game that she’d never played before.
It coaxed, it teased, and then he was touching her hip, her waist, and finally her breast. She moaned in approval, waiting for the wave of desire that would drown her when he teased her nipple, but it didn’t come. He’d stopped.
Her eyes popped open. She lowered herself back onto her feet, ready to protest. Why? Why are you stopping? But the battle on his face kept her from asking.
When he didn’t speak, she asked, ‘Are you okay?’
‘Me?’ He huffed out air in a half-laugh that held no amusement. ‘I was about to ask you the same thing.’
‘You’re the one who stopped.’
‘We were about to do something stupid.’
Something stupid.
She stiffened, though she knew he was right. She’d thought it herself, hadn’t she? But it was different when he said it. Somehow she’d given him the power to hurt her. So carelessly, too. He’d evaluated the situation—her—and thought it was stupid.
No, that wasn’t true. She was deliberately misunderstanding him. But it didn’t matter. A little balloon of hurt had still popped in her chest, stealing her breath, leaving her feeling...
Alone.
The feeling echoed in her mind, in her body, and its intensity told her that it didn’t only apply to her situation with Elliott. She felt alone in her family, too. She’d never thought it before, never given herself the chance to feel it. But it was true, and she closed her eyes, letting the pain of realisation wash over her before she squared her shoulders and faced Elliott.
‘I didn’t mean to upset you,’ he said slowly.
She could hear the angst in his voice and it softened her. ‘You haven’t upset me. I am upset, but it isn’t you.’ Not only you, at least. ‘You were right to stop. This... It shouldn’t have happened. You’re right.’ She blew out a breath. ‘If my grandmother asks, I’m late because we wanted a debrief after the meeting.’
‘She’ll ask?’ Elliott frowned. ‘No. Surely not.’
‘She will,’ Morgan said with certainty. ‘But on the off-chance that she doesn’t, let’s stagger our return and hope my grandmother has learnt to respect boundaries since I last saw her. Doubtful, but what’s life without hope?’
Ignoring all the ways they’d managed to complicate their relationship in less than thirty minutes, Morgan began to walk back to the estate.
* * *
‘Oi, you!’
Elliott stopped. He recognised the voice, but it couldn’t be addressing him. Edna Smith hadn’t once called him by saying, Oi, you! Still, he stopped. Turned. Saw her storming towards him.
It shouldn’t have been as intimidating as it was. But he knew that Morgan’s warning was about to come to fruition.
Mentally, he tried to prepare.
And failed.
‘What did you do to my granddaughter?’
He opened his mouth to recite the words Morgan had told him to say, but stopped when he realised they wouldn’t fit.
He tried to adjust. ‘I’m not sure what you mean.’
‘I’ll clarify,’ she told him, almost kindly, but he didn’t miss the sharpness that was present, too. ‘Morgan came home later than I expected from the Town Hall. When I asked her about it, she refused to tell me the truth.’
