Summer Beach Reads. Natalie Anderson

‘My mother loves him and Dad used to try and impersonate him—badly.’

      So there had been good times with his parents?

      ‘How come you developed such a passion for the flicks?’ he asked, switching the focus back on her.

      ‘Oh, I just watched a lot as a kid. Habit.’

      ‘Your parents liked them?’

      No, she hadn’t been curled up on a sofa between her parents watching a film as he probably had. She’d been in her own bedroom with her own telly—to her friends’ envy—and watched them alone. She still had a massive DVD collection. ‘They were just fun.’

      A time-filler, a window into another, more friendly, world—where villains got their comeuppance, orphans found families and plain girls got the guys. Sure they might be fairy tales, but she enjoyed them.

      ‘And you really like taking the tours?’ he asked as if he couldn’t understand why anybody would.

      ‘Being with the fans is way more fun than working behind the scenes,’ she explained. ‘I’m a fan—I understand that excitement. I mean, it’s hard work, but I love it. And I love travelling. I love getting to meet these interesting people who’ve come from so far away. Who’ve been to other interesting places. Who love the movies I do. It’s fantastic.’

      The discussion was a timely reminder—she wasn’t going to stuff up her perfect job by sleeping with one of the possible contacts. Again.

      ‘I can see why you’re popular. Your enthusiasm is infectious,’ he said slowly, with a look in his eyes that she was sure wasn’t good. ‘You know there’s a pool here,’ he drawled.

      Definitely not good. She had another melt moment and instantly rallied. ‘I didn’t bring my swimsuit. And don’t even suggest skinny dipping.’ Yeah, she’d caught the flicker of his smile.

      ‘It’s heated. There’s a spa as well.’

      She’d known staying to chat with him wouldn’t be wise. She might be completely sober but she was suddenly as giddy as if she’d sucked a litre of champagne through a straw. ‘I don’t need to try all the things you have for your high-paying guests. I’ll be with the scraggly film fans out in the muddy field.’

      ‘I just thought it might help you relax.’ He opened his hands in an oh-so-not innocent gesture.

      ‘Let down my guard, you mean.’ She wasn’t here to relax.

      ‘How about a ride, then?’ He roared with laughter at her expression. Then clarified. ‘We could just go along the fence-line, you could see the moon and the stars. Very much a movie scene.’

      ‘I’m not really into horse-riding.’ And she refused to blush. ‘We have all day tomorrow to see the old set. I think it’s best if I turn in for an early night.’

      ‘You’re afraid.’

      ‘Of horses, yes.’ She dared him to laugh at her. ‘And I’m being sensible.’

      He let out a theatrical sigh. ‘Come on, then, Cinderella.’ He scooped her bag from where they’d left it in the kitchen and then led her up the stairs—another wide, plush corridor that seemed to go for ever.

      ‘Now.’ He opened a door and put her bag just inside. ‘This is your bedroom.’

      ‘Thank you.’ She walked into the room and quickly turned, her hand closing the door. But before she could slam it in his face he leaned in.

      ‘Pay very close attention,’ he drawled. ‘My bedroom is a mere three doors along. Same floor and everything. You can’t miss it. Even if there’s a power cut and it’s pitch black. Worst case just try them all, there’s no one else staying here, only me to be found.’

      ‘Dream on.’

      ‘Oh, I do. Every night.’ He shrugged, utterly unashamed. ‘Just as you do.’

      ‘There’s a lock on this door, isn’t there?’ She looked down at it as if to ensure it.

      ‘There’s no full moon tonight,’ he continued, ignoring her interruption. ‘Just as there wasn’t then. You don’t need to pretend you’re a horny were-woman, just do what you want to do.’

      ‘You’re not what I want to do,’ she muttered, determined to believe it.

      ‘I think I prefer it when you’re agitated and honest rather than trying to be cool and lie.’

      She choked—torn between laughter and outrage. ‘You’re so up yourself.’

      ‘No, I’m just not so uptight I can’t admit to something that feels good.’

      She twitched. ‘Look, what happened was a mistake. I’m all for learning from my mistakes.’

      ‘Well, frankly, I’m glad you made the wrong room mistake and saved yourself from a mess-up with that other guy.’

      ‘What happened with you was a mistake too.’

      ‘How can you say that?’ His voice dropped lower still. A whisper that slid over her like the faintest, warmest of breezes. ‘You’re as in thrall as I am.’

      She had to end this somehow, before she went up in a puff of smoke. ‘This is really flattering and all—’ she sucked up some cool ‘—but I’m not available for anyone, or any kind of thing, right now. That night just showed what an idiot I was.’

      ‘You weren’t an idiot.’ He looked concerned. ‘That wasn’t the act of a desperate woman.’

      ‘Wasn’t it?’ Wasn’t it exactly that?

      It was one of the few moments in the evening where his expression was serious. ‘There’s nothing wrong with having needs and giving them free expression. You know what I think of you?’ he asked.

      She really didn’t want to know.

      ‘That you’re a spontaneous, fiery, passionate woman who’s as human as I am. Who makes mistakes, who has wants. It was refreshing. You were in total charge. You blew my—’

      ‘Look, don’t try to make out like I’m some kind of sex goddess just because you want back in my pants.’ Ellie breathed in desperately. ‘Truth is I don’t want any kind of a relationship right now. I’ve got a new job that I really don’t want to lose because I actually love it. I want to be in charge of both my career and my social life.’

      ‘I don’t want a relationship either.’ His shoulders lifted. ‘It’s impossible for me. I’m in the middle of a new deal, I’m away every week to another hotel.’ He half laughed. ‘And that’s not going to change any time soon. And not for anyone.’

      ‘So there’s really nothing to talk about, right?’

      ‘There is just this one small thing.’ He leaned closer.

      ‘You said you wouldn’t make a move.’

      ‘I’m not.’

      ‘You know you are.’ She shook her head. ‘Why don’t you drive to the nearest bar or something? You could get sex any time you want it.’

      ‘You’re proving that statement wrong right this second.’

      She swallowed.

      ‘I have some fun when it feels right, but my field’s been empty a while.’ He maintained his intent, fiery gaze on her. ‘I can admit to my needs, maybe you can’t. But your actions that night showed you have them.’

      ‘It can’t happen.’

      ‘Yes, it can. Just once more can absolutely happen.’

      Just once more. Oh, so, so tempting.

      ‘You promised you wouldn’t touch me unless I invited it.’ Her whisper was invitation enough and they both knew