‘You taste the same,’ he said, into her mouth, and the words were discordant, initially making no sense. But after a moment, she realised he was talking about when they’d used to kiss, all those years ago.
‘You’re different,’ she said, honestly, because he was. This Theo was all hard edges: in his behavior, his attitudes, his body, and his kiss. Everything was rough and harsh. Back then, he’d kissed her like he might break her. Now it was as though he was daring her to break him.
She scrunched her hand into the fabric of his shirt, her heart racing so hard she thought it might pound right out of her chest. The wordpleaseflooded her brain, screeching through her, but she buried it in their kiss, refusing to speak it, refusing to ask for him. Refusing to give him that satisfaction.
As if he could hear her determination, he pulled away from her, dark eyes glittering when they met hers. ‘What do you want, Annie?’
Her pulse washed through her ears so loudly it was like a hurricane had come and whipped up the sea outside. She bit into her lip, refusing to say it, even when her body made a liar of her silence.
A single dark brow of Theo’s lifted, and his expression was so calmly cynical that it was hard to know howhefelt and whathewanted.
‘Is this some kind of game to you?’ she asked, after a beat.
He lifted a finger to her cheek, and stared at it, as if mesmerised. ‘Everything is a game, in a way.’
‘You don’t seem like someone who’s having much fun.’
‘Don’t I?’
She shivered. ‘You’re enjoying this?’
His eyes moved to hers and for a moment, she saw a glimpse of the man she’d once known, but it was gone again, immediately. ‘I play to win,’ he said, but it was too cryptic to understand. He straightened, his touch gone, her lips aching for his kiss, her body liquid with need. ‘It’s late. Go to sleep, Princess.’ She flinched at his use of that name. He’d never called her that before, but her father did, and Theo knew it. She heard the disdain in his voice and a small, fragile part of her seemed to wither up and die.
Chapter Six
ANNIE HAD FALLENasleep in a state of utterly mixed and spent emotions. On the one hand, she’d been dreading Theo coming to bed, hating the thought of being so close and not touching him, hating the thought of wanting to reach for him, fearing that she might do so on autopilot. And yet, in the end, she’d been so utterly exhausted that she woke to the sound of crashing waves the next morning, in the exact same position she’d fallen asleep in—hugged right to the side of the bed.
Her eyes flared wide as she lay perfectly still and listened intently to see if she could hear Theo breathing beside her. Silence. Perhaps he had been a gentleman after all and slept on one of the huge couches?
She moved softly, flipping onto her back then turning her head to the pillow beside her. An indent showed he had lain there at some point, but when she brushed her hand over the sheets, they were cool to the touch.
With a small frown, she sat up, and took in the settings anew. The view now, in broad daylight, was beyond stunning. The glass windows showed a striking vista out over the ocean in one direction, unimpeded by anything, just beautiful sand and sea. It was the other windows though that displayed the landscape of the island like some kind of artwork—on one side, rugged, mountainous terrain, covered in lush greenery, and on the other, an expansive lawn, then colourful shrubs and trees, that made Annie itch to go out and explore.
The open-plan layout of the house meant that she could quickly ascertain that Theo wasn’t here. Telling herself the fluttering in her stomach was relief, she pushed out of bed, the sunlight catching the enormous diamond on her ring finger as she moved the sheet aside, and paced towards the kitchen. She reached for a coffee pod, but stilled as she hooked a mug beneath the spout, her eyes arrested by something moving in the water.
Her mouth went dry as Theo drew his arms over his head, swimming in a horizontal line with the shore, each stroke powerful and contained, drawing him through the ancient waters as though it were butter and he a knife.
She struggled to properly inflate her lungs as she watched him swim, mesmerised both by his power, and the power of her memories. The first time they’d really kissed, in a way that had hinted at so much more, had been in his pool. Water lapping around them, his hands on her body, gentle but also promising, so she’d moved onto his lap where he sat on the pool step, straddling him, her own body answering that promise with one of her own. She’d felt him grow hard against her sex and a sharp throb of need had almost taken her breath away.
‘Not now, Annie,’ he’d murmured. ‘Not yet.’ Even when he’d wanted her, he had made sure she knew nothing would happen until she was ready. That she hadn’t felt pressured or rushed.
She glanced away, tears filming her eyes unexpectedly, as the sweetness of that memory hit her for the discordancy with the situation they were in now—for the contrast between that Theo, to this. A man who told her she must beg for him before he’d give her what she wanted. Who wanted to belittle her, because five years ago, she’d had the hide to leave him.
She blinked quickly to clear the unwelcome tears, and finished making her coffee. Yet she stayed in the kitchen, eyes gravitating towards the sea, as he reached the far edge of the cove formed by the natural indentation of the island’s shore, and turned around,to swim back the other way. His head lifted, just a sleek, dark shape in the bobbing ocean, but she took a step backwards, anyway, hiding from him, even when there was no way he’d be able to see her so quickly, and from so far away.
When he’d reached a space in the ocean that was in line with the house, he stopped swimming and stood, and her fingers went completely numb, so the coffee cup she’d been cradling slipped from her hands and smashed against the tiled floor. Her jaw dropped, and her eyes stayed glued to the visage of Theo emerging from the ocean, like some kind of ancient god, gloriously naked and absolutely masculine. They’d dated a long time, but she’d never seen him like this.
The closest she’d gotten had been when they’d swum together. This was a revelation and an awakening that sent her pulse skittering wildly.
She couldn’t look away.
He was so bronzed and well-built, so muscled and strong, so lean and taut. Every step from the ocean was intentional and controlled, the rolling tide no match for this man. When he reached the water’s edge, he paused, looking left and right, completely relaxed in his nudity, totally at one with the earth, the water, with himself. He continued to walk then, long, easy strides carrying him across the sand and closer to the house, so she swore, belatedly realising that he’d soon be there, with her. Naked? Her heart pounded as she galvanised herself into action, looking down at the black puddle of spilled coffee, and the shards of broken ceramic.
She stepped over it gingerly, towards the sink, opening the doors and finding paper towels. She was crouched down, mopping up the spill when the front door sounded.
She couldn’t look.
Shecouldn’t. Her cheeks flamed as she concentrated very, very hard on focusing on the job at hand andnotthinking about the naked state she’d just observed.