The Platinum Collection. Maisey Yates
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decided on it herself made all the difference.
Nevertheless, when six o’clock came and she was on her way to the pavilion villa, her nerves started getting very jumpy. She had never had an assignation like this before. It was totally out of character for her. But there was no turning back from it, she told herself fiercely. Everything was in place to take this step, and take it she would.
Harry was standing by the infinity pool, looking out to sea. He wore only a pair of board shorts, printed with white sailing ships on a blue background. She paused on the last step leading to the open deck, her heart skittering at the sight of so much naked masculinity—broad shoulders tapering to lean hips, bronze skin gleaming over taut, well-defined muscles. He had the perfect male physique and it tugged on some deeply primitive female chord in Elizabeth.
It was okay to feel attracted to him, she told herself.
It was natural.
On the physical level.
As though sensing her presence he swung around, his gaze instantly targeting her, piercing blue eyes raking her from head to toe, making her hotly conscious that she was still in the island uniform. She quickly held up the carry bag holding the clothes he’d requested and gabbled an explanation.
‘I’ve just finished at the office, Harry. I thought I’d take a shower here.’
He nodded. ‘Make it fast. The sun is already low in the sky.’
The glass doors to the villa were open. The layout inside was similar to the one Jack had shown her. She headed straight for the bathroom, anxious not to be found wanting in keeping to her side of their deal. One minute to turn on the shower taps and strip off her clothes, two minutes under the refreshing beat of the water, one minute to towel herself dry, one minute to pull on the red bikini bottom and put on the butterfly blouse, fastening only one button to keep it more or less together.
Accessible was what he’d asked for. He couldn’t say she wasn’t delivering it. The shape of her braless breasts and the darker colour of her areolae were certainly visible through the sheer fabric, and her nipples were already stiffening, poking at the butterfly wings. She hoped he had the champagne ready. Carrying this much accessibility off with any air of confidence required some alcoholic fortification.
It was only on her exit from the bathroom that Elizabeth caught a waft of nose-teasing scent coming from the mezzanine level. She looked up to where the king-size bed was waiting for intimate activity. Candles—from small to large—lit a path to it. A long sniff identified their fragrance as frangipani, the flower most reminiscent of tropical nights.
Harry must have set them up. Had he bought them in Port Douglas today? Why go to the trouble? This was not a night of romance. Did he want her to imagine it was? And why should he want that? She didn’t understand. But it was...nice of him to do it.
She was smiling over what she had decided was playboy fun as she walked out onto the deck. ‘Do you treat all your women to scented candles?’ she asked.
He was about to pop the cork of a bottle of champagne. He paused to give her a very long, all-encompassing look that made her extremely conscious of every female part of her body. ‘No. I simply associate the scent of flowers with butterflies, Ellie. An innocent pleasure,’ he said softly.
His use of her childhood name instantly reminded her of how he’d linked it to an age of innocence. She wished she knew what was going on in his mind. It seemed to be off on some quirky journey tonight.
He popped the cork and reached for one of the flute glasses sitting on the low table that served the sun-lounges. A plate of lush fresh strawberries was placed beside the ice bucket that awaited the opened bottle. As he poured the champagne, Elizabeth saw that a couple of crushed strawberries lay in the bottom of the glass, making it a very sensual drink.
‘Enjoy,’ he said as he passed it to her, his smile inviting her to share all sorts of pleasure with him.
‘Thank you, Harry,’ she said appreciatively, grateful that he wasn’t grabbing at her accessibility or doing anything off-putting.
He waved her to one of the sun-lounges. ‘Relax. Looks like being a spectacular sunset.’
She sat on the lounge, not quite ready to put herself on display by stretching out on it. Harry poured champagne for himself, then clicked her glass with his. ‘To our first night together,’ he said, smiling as he dropped onto the adjacent lounge, propped himself against the backrest, lifted his long legs onto the cushioned base and gazed out to a sea that was shimmering like polished crystal.
It released Elizabeth’s inhibitions about doing the same. This villa certainly had a prime position for viewing the sunset. The subtle colour changes in the sky would challenge any artist—impossible to capture on canvas, she thought. It truly was lovely, just watching it and sipping strawberry-flavoured champagne.
‘Have you ever been to Broome?’ Harry asked.
‘No.’ Broome was right across the country on the coast of Western Australia. She knew it was world famous for its pearls but she’d never had any reason to go there. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Sunset there is amazing. People drive down on the beach, set up their barbecues, bring eskies loaded with cold drinks, play music, sit back and enjoy Mother Nature’s display for them. They completely tune out from news of the world and just live in the moment.’
He rolled the words out in a low, almost spellbinding tone that was soothing, like a physical caress that eased the last threads of tension in Elizabeth’s body.
‘We don’t do enough of it...living in the moment,’ he went on in the same seductive murmur. ‘Let’s try to do that tonight, Ellie. No yesterdays...no tomorrows...just each moment as it comes.’
‘Yes,’ she agreed, happy with the idea.
They sipped their champagne in silence for a while, watching the sun slowly disappear below the horizon.
‘My parents used to do this...have a sundowner together at the end of the day,’ Harry said, slanting her a reminiscent little smile. ‘What about yours, Ellie? Do they have a special time to themselves?’
She shook her head. ‘My mother died of cancer when I was nineteen. I haven’t seen my father since the funeral. He’s a miner and living with some other woman in Mt Isa. It was never much of a marriage. Mum more or less brought Lucy and me up by herself.’
Harry frowned at her. ‘Your father doesn’t care about you?’
She grimaced. ‘I think we were responsibilities he didn’t really want. Mostly when he came home on leave from the mine, he’d get drunk and we’d stay out of his way.’
‘What about when your mother became ill?’
‘He came home less. Didn’t want to be faced with what was happening to Mum. He said it was up to me and Lucy to take care of her.’
‘That must have been hard,’ Harry said sympathetically.
‘Yes. Though it was a special time, too. Like you said...living in the moment...because the last moment could come at any time so every good moment was precious.’
‘At least you knew that,’ he murmured, nodding understandingly before throwing her a wry little smile. ‘Mickey and I...we didn’t realise how precious those good moments were until after our parents were gone.’
‘I guess that kind of sudden death is harder to come to terms with,’ she said thoughtfully.
‘I don’t know. We didn’t have to see them suffer.’ He shook his head. ‘You were only nineteen. How did you manage?’
‘I was at business college so I could be home quite a lot. Lucy dropped out of school to look after Mum when I couldn’t be there.’
‘Did she pick up her education again at a later date?’
‘No.’ Impossible to explain that school had never