One Night: Exotic Fantasies: One Night in Paradise / Pirate Tycoon, Forbidden Baby / Prince Nadir's Secret Heir. Maisey Yates
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Her lips were pink and full and, now he knew, made for kissing. And he had to wonder how he’d known her for so long and never really looked at her.
Because if he had he would have realized. He would have had to realize, that she was the most gorgeous woman. Exquisite. Curved, just as a woman should be, in all the right places. Beautiful without fuss or pretension.
“Yes, we have,” she said slowly, those liquid brown eyes locked with his.
“So it stands to reason that after Hannah decided not to go through with things …”
“Right.”
The air between them seemed thicker now, that dangerous edge sharpening. Now that he knew what it was like to touch her, to feel her soft lips beneath his, well, now it was a lot harder to ignore.
“So let’s go, then,” he said.
“Right,” she said again.
He moved to her and slid his arm around her waist. It was more slender than he’d imagined it might be. “We have to do things like this,” he said, his voice getting rougher as her hips brushed against his.
She nodded, her eyes on his face. On his lips. She would be the death of him.
“Lovely to see you again, Ms. Davis,” Mr. Amudee said, inclining his head. “And with a ring, I see.”
Her heart rate kicked up several notches.
“Oh. Yes. Zack … made it official last night. It’s lovely to see you, too.” She touched the ring on her finger and Zack tightened his hold around her waist. She nearly stopped breathing, her accelerated heart rate lurching to a halt with it. From the moment they’d arrived at Mr. Amudee’s house, he had put his arm around her and kept it there. She’d assumed she would get used to it, to the warm weight of his touch. But she wasn’t getting used to it. If anything, she was getting more jittery, more aroused with each passing second.
The sun was hot on the wide, open veranda that overlooked rows of coffee trees with flat glossy leaves and bright red coffee cherries. But Zack’s touch was the thing that was making her melt.
“I had not met the other woman you intended to marry, Zack, but I must say that comparing the photos of the first one, to Ms. Davis, I find I prefer Ms. Davis.”
Clara’s heart bumped against her chest. “That’s kind of you to say.” She knew her face had to be beet-red, it was hot, that was for sure. Because it was nice of him to say, but there was no way it could be true.
There was no comparison between her and Hannah. Hannah was … well, sex bomb came to mind yet again.
“Not kind,” Isra said. “Just the truth. I was married, a long time ago, to the most wonderful woman. I have a good judge of character. Unfortunately I was too busy to see just how wonderful she was. Don’t make that mistake.”
Zack cleared his throat. “Clara is also very knowledgable about our product. I know we’ll both enjoy getting a look at the growing process today. And we’re both excited about the tasting.”
Back to business. Zack was good at that. Thank God one of them was.
“I’m excited to share it with you. Come this way.” They followed him down the stairs that led to the lush, green garden filled with fragrant foliage. He moved quickly for a man his age, his movements sharp and precise as he explained where each plant was in the growing stage, and which family was leasing which segment of the farmland, and how the soil and amount of shade would affect the flavor of each type of coffee, even before it was roasted.
The tea was grown in a more remote segment of the farm and required walking up into the rolling hills, where the leaves were in the process of being harvested.
“A lot depends on when you pick them,” Mr. Amudee said, bending and plucking a small, tender-looking cluster of leaves. “Smell. Very delicate.”
He handed the leaves to Zack and he did as instructed. Then he held them out for Clara. She bent and took in the light fragrance. She looked up and her eyes clashed with Zack’s and her heart beat double time.
“And this will be … what sort of tea will it be?” she asked, anything to get her mind off Zack and his eyes.
“White tea,” Zack said. “Am I right?”
Mr. Amudee inclined his head. “Right. Ready to go and taste?”
Her eyes met Zack’s again, the word tasting bringing to mind something new and different entirely. Something heady and sexual.
She swallowed hard.
“Yes, I think we are,” Zack said slowly, his eyes never leaving hers.
And she wondered if he’d been thinking the exact same thing she was. And if he was thinking the same thing, if he wanted to kiss her again, she wasn’t sure what she would do.
No, that was a lie. She was sure. She would kiss him again. Like nothing else mattered. Like there was no future and no consequences. Because she’d had enough of not getting what she wanted out of life. Quite enough.
She looked at Zack again and she wondered if she’d only imagined that momentary flash of heat. Because his eyes were cool again, his expression neutral.
She tried to convince herself that it was better that way.
Clara spent the next few days carefully avoiding Zack. It was easier than expected, given the cozy living situation. But during the day he had meetings with Mr. Amudee and when she wasn’t needed, she took advantage of all the vacation-type things that were available in the resort.
There was a spa down in the hotel, and also some incredible restaurants. Her favorite retreat was up on the roof of the villa that gave her a view of the mountains, and the small town that was only a short walk away, the golden rooftops reflecting the sunlight like fire in the late afternoon. It was the perfect view for yoga, which kept her mind focused and relaxed at the same time.
She even managed to forget about the kiss. Mostly. As long as she made a concerted effort not to think of it. And as long as she didn’t get into bed before she was ready to fall asleep instantly. Lying awake for any length of time was a recipe for disaster. And for replaying that moment. Over and over again.
Clara took a deep breath and tried to focus on the scenery, on the sky as it lightened. Orange fading into a pale pink, then to purple as the sun rose from behind the sloping hills. She would focus on that. Not Zack. Because that door was clearly closed. He hadn’t touched her again, unless it was absolutely necessary, since the night in the garden. Since the kiss that had scorched her inside and out.
The kiss that didn’t even seem to be a vague memory to him.
“Got plans for today?”
She turned and her heart lodged itself in her throat. Zack strode onto the roof in nothing more than a pair of low-slung jeans, his chest, broad and muscular, sprinkled with the perfect amount of chest hair, was streaked with dirt and glistening with sweat.
She had to remind herself to breathe when he came closer. And she had to remind herself not to stare at his abs, bunching and shifting as he moved.
“Do I.” She blinked and looked up at his face. “What?”
“Do you have plans? You’ve been busy. Remarkably so for someone on vacation.”
“Well, down in the village they have these neat classes for tourists. Weaving and things like that. And one of the restaurants in the hotel has a culinary school.”
“I thought you wanted to relax.”
“Cooking is relaxing for me.” And it had been conducive to avoiding him. “Anyway, now I can make you some killer Pad Thai when we get back home.”
“Well, I support that.”
“What are you doing up so early?”
“Working. Before