Harlequin KISS August 2014 Bundle (54 page)

* * *

Sunshine took herself off to explore the house while Leo
prepared the cakes.

The house was designed to give most rooms a view. There was a
generous living/dining area, a cosy library, which had shelves but no books, and
two private wings—the main bedroom/bathroom wing, with an atrium
that reminded
her of the honeymoon suite at the hotel, except that it was plant-free, and the
other with three bedrooms, each with an en suite bathroom.

Leo had thrown a roll of paper towels at her when she’d poked
her head in the kitchen, so she wasn’t sure what that looked like, but she was
in love with the rest of the house.

It just needed interior designing. Because
the only decorative
item in it so far was a massive ornate mirror on the wall in the living room.
Some kind of feng shui thing—reflecting the water view for peace and prosperity?
She would have to look that up.

Leo was looking inscrutable as he wheeled the dining table over
to her, which made her suspicious—because what was there about cakes, plates,
cutlery, napkins,
and glasses to warrant inscrutability?

Well, she was not going to be inscrutabilised—and she didn’t
care
if that wasn’t a real word! She was simply
going to eat the cake, and later the pizza, like a rational woman who did not
care about anything but the state of her stomach, and then drive home.

She examined the four perfectly decorated cakes. Oh, dear, she
was on
the cusp of a ten-kilo weight-gain.

Then she noted that Leo was pouring champagne.

‘Careful—I’m fat
and
I’m driving,’
she said.

‘You’re not fat. And driving...? We’ll see.’

‘Just cut the cake, Leo,’ she said, not about to get into an
argument so soon after she’d punched him. He couldn’t
force
the champagne down her throat anyway.

Leo cut and served slices of
the first cake. ‘Traditional fruit
cake, fondant icing.’

Sunshine took a bite. It was moist, rich, and utterly
delicious. ‘This one, for sure!’ she said, and scooped up another forkful.

‘Pace yourself. Don’t vote too soon,’ Leo said.

She didn’t bother responding—her mouth was too full.

‘You
can
have another piece, you
know,’ Leo offered as she scraped up a last
smear of icing.

‘I have to lose weight or I won’t fit into my dress,’ Sunshine
said repressively—and then she realised the absurdity of that, given the state
of her plate, and burst out laughing.

‘Hey, eat as much as you want! I was just trying to protect the
plate—it looked like you were trying to dig a trench in it.’

‘Leo!’

He held up
I surrender
hands.

‘Oh, just cut the next one,’ she said, gurgling.

‘Salted caramel Mark One. Pastry base covered with a film of
sticky salted caramel, topped with chocolate cake layers interspersed with
caramel and cream filling.’

Sunshine took a bite. Closed her eyes as flavour flooded her.
She took another forkful from her plate. Sipped champagne. ‘It is
so
rich and delicious.’

Leo
waited while she took one more bite. Another. One more. A
sip. One more. ‘Finished?’ he asked at last, deadpan.

Mournfully, she examined her empty plate. ‘I told you I had an
unhealthy interest in desserts.’

‘“A shark’s mouth full of sweet teeth” was how you put it.’

‘It may be worse than that. It could be more like a hadrosaur’s
teeth. They have nine hundred and
sixty—
and
they’re
self-sharpening!’

‘What the hell is a hadrosaur?’

‘A type of dinosaur.’ She sighed, dispirited. ‘So! I am a
dinosaur—and not even a meat-eating one!’

Leo laughed so suddenly it came out as a snort.

Which made Sunshine laugh. ‘Let’s get onto salted caramel Mark
Two before I lapse into a state of abject depression.’

‘You? Abject depression
while eating
cake
? That would be something to see!’

‘And you will see it, I promise you, if you don’t look after my
hadrosauric teeth and cut me a piece of cake.’

He cut a slice and handed it over. ‘Your wish, my command!
Similar to Mark One, but with butterscotch cake layers.’

Sunshine ate, interspersing mouthfuls with an occasional moan
of ecstasy. ‘Do you have
a favourite?’ she asked, forking up the last mouthful.
‘Because I have to tell you this is harder than I thought and I don’t think I’m
going to be able to choose.’

‘As it turns out, I do have a favourite—but I’m not telling,’
he said. ‘Subliminally, knowing what I like best might sway you—maybe to
deliberately pick something that is
not
my
favourite—and that would
never do.’

‘Oh! I see what you did there! Bouncing my own words about the
invitation design back at me.’

‘For my next trick I will spout random facts about the mating
habits of the tsetse fly.’

Sunshine laughed. ‘I’m going to look that up, and next time I
see you—’

‘I beg you—no!’ He slapped another piece of cake on her plate.
‘Coconut vanilla bean cake,
layered with coconut meringue butter cream.’

Sunshine stared at it, not sure if she could actually fit in
another bite. But it looked so good. She picked up her fork. Ate. Sipped more
champagne, then looked at her glass. ‘Hey—you refilled that.’

‘It was empty,’ Leo explained.

Sunshine huffed, but her concentration was already moving back
to her plate. One more forkful.
Another. Again. Empty plate. She licked her
lips, looking at the rest of the cake longingly.

‘See? You didn’t need to know my favourite,’ Leo said. ‘You
decided on your own. The coconut.’

‘Yes. Coconut. It would almost be
worth
getting married just to have that cake. Do you think I could
have another tiny piece?’

‘You can eat the whole damned cake as far as I’m
concerned.’

‘Dieting from tomorrow, then,’ she said, holding out her
plate.

Leo cut another slice. ‘Don’t diet, Sunshine. I like the feel
of you just as you are.’

The words, the tone of his voice, made the hairs on the back of
her neck stand up. ‘That’s...that’s...immaterial. But, anyway, wh-what’s your
favourite?’

He smiled. A narrow-eyed smile. She
didn’t trust that
smile.

‘The fruit cake,’ he said. ‘But I have an idea for how we can
both get our way. Compromise is my new speciality.’

Was that supposed to be meaningful? ‘Both get our way with
what?’ she asked cautiously.

‘With the cake,’ Leo said, all innocence, and put the extra
slice on Sunshine’s plate.

He looked at her for a long moment and Sunshine
saw that little
tic jump to life near his mouth. She was so nervous she almost couldn’t sit
still. She stuck her fork into her cake, raised it to her mouth.

‘And with our assignations,’ Leo said smoothly.

Sunshine jerked, and the piece of cake hit her just at the
corner of her bottom lip and fell.

‘Two, four...there’s a three in the middle,’ he said, in that
same dangerously soft voice.

And then, before she could string a lucid thought together, he
leant in and licked the corner of her mouth.

‘Just thought I’d...steal...that little drop of cream,’ Leo
said softly.

Dare you.

Tic-tic-tic, beside his mouth.

‘I’ll tell you what,’ he said silkily. ‘I’m going into the
kitchen to organise the first compromise I was
talking about. You sit here,
finish your cake, look at the view, and think about the second. Think about why
it is that a woman like you, who believes sex is just sex—you did say that,
right?—is so freaked out by the idea that a man actually does want to have just
sex with her.’

With a last piercing look at her, and a short laugh, he left
the room.

And, oh, how
hard it was to have her words come back to bite
her. Because she had said that. Sex was just...sex.

Except that it seemed in this particular case it wasn’t.

Because she was thinking about Leo too much, and caring too
much, and worrying too much. The motorbike. The damned motorbike. Maybe without
the motorbike they would be entwined right now on assignation three and she
would be blithely uninterested in anything except his moving body parts.

So do the deal, Sunshine, and he’ll get
rid of the bike.

Sex twice more. Or change her name.

She touched the corner of her mouth, where he’d licked the
cream, and her skin seemed to tingle.

Restless, she got to her feet, walked out onto the veranda.

‘Look at the view,’
he’d said.

But even that wasn’t simple.

He had no idea what the view did to her. And here the beach was
so disturbingly close...

She hadn’t been on a beach in two years.

Leo was right: Moonbeam did have a hold over her. A hold she
seemed unable to break. A hold she was too...scared...to break. Well, she would
go down to the beach now and yank her
own
chain and
see what
happened. And then she would tell Leo. She would tell him—she would...
God, she didn’t know what she would say. Or do.

But one drama at a time.

Deep breath.

Beach.

Heart hammering, she bent to remove her shoes. Took the first
step before she could think again, kept going until the sand was beneath her
feet.

It felt strange. And good. Comforting, almost,
to have her feet
sink into the sand. The scratch of salt on her face, the roar and rush of surf
sounding in her ears.

Sunshine felt her sister in the wild, careless, regal, lovely
essence of the place. Pulling at her, drawing her closer and closer, until she
was at the water’s edge and the waves were slapping at her ankles.

She let out the breath she hadn’t realised
she was holding on a
long sigh.

This tiny private beach was it.

What she’d been looking for. Waiting to find.

Leo’s beach was her sister’s final resting place.

She felt tears start, and swiped a shaking hand over her
eyes.

And then she felt Leo behind her.

EIGHT

‘I’m not
vain enough to think you’re crying over me, Sunshine—so why don’t you tell me what the big deal is about the beach?’ Leo asked.

Heartbeat. Two. Three. ‘Moonbeam.’

‘I thought we’d get around to Moonbeam. Everything always circles back to her.’

She turned sharply towards him. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

‘Just the fact that she’s
dead
.’

She covered
her ears, gave an anguished cry, and the next thing she knew she was in his arms.

‘I’m sorry.
Sorry
,’ he said, and kissed her temple. ‘But, Sunshine, your sister doesn’t sound like the kind of person who would have wanted you to freeze, to mark time just because she wasn’t there.’

‘She—she wasn’t. But I can’t help it, Leo.’

Long moment. And then Leo said, ‘So let me help you. Tell
me—talk. About Moonbeam and the beach.’

She waited, shivering in his steady hold, until the urge to weep had passed, and then she pulled out of his arms and stood beside him, looking out at the horizon.

‘Sunshine?’

‘She told me that when she died she wanted her ashes scattered at the beach—to mix with the ocean.’ She turned to look up at him. ‘Why would she say that when she was
so young? Do you think she knew what was going to happen?’

‘I don’t know, Sunshine.’

‘I didn’t do what she wanted. I couldn’t. Can’t.’

‘So...where is she?’

‘In an urn in my office. You were looking straight at her—that night you cooked me dinner. I was scared you’d guessed. But it was just my guilty conscience getting the better of me. Because why would you ever guess?’

‘There’s no need to feel guilty, Sunshine.’

‘I’ve got my sister in an urn in my office—the exact opposite of what she wanted. What does that say about me?’

‘That you’re grieving.’ He smoothed a windblown lock of her hair. ‘You’ll find a way to do what she asked. But even if you never do it won’t matter to Moonbeam. It’s not really Moonbeam in that urn. She’s in your heart and your head.
Not in the urn, Sunshine.’

She turned back to the ocean, gazing out. ‘A full moon. A quiet beach. She said it would be up to me to do it on my own—no friends, no family. Just me and her.’ The tears were shimmering and she desperately blinked them back. ‘I think she knew how hard it would be for me. I think she knew I would take a long time. I think she didn’t want to pressure me into doing
anything before I was ready. I want to do it, Leo. I
do
. But...’

‘Well, we have a beach,’ Leo said slowly. ‘And a full moon coming up. You’ll be here...’

He let the words hang.

She was still. So still. And then she turned to him again. ‘You wouldn’t mind?’ Haltingly. ‘You’d let me do that?’

‘Yes, I would let you. And, no, I wouldn’t mind.’

‘I’ll...I’ll think about it.
I’m not sure... Not yet...’

‘That’s fine. The beach will always be here, and there are plenty of full moons to choose from.’

She shivered.

‘You’re cold,’ he said. ‘Come back to the house.’

She could feel him behind her as she walked across the sand and up the steps. Like a tingle inside her nerve-endings. She could feel him watching as she brushed the sand from her feet, slipped
on her shoes, retied the ankle laces.

And then, ‘What next?’ she asked, breathless. Wanting, wanting...
What?

But Leo merely gestured for her to go into the house.

He’d cleared the table and positioned in the middle of it a small white cardboard box with Art Deco patterning. ‘Open it,’ he said.

Sunshine lifted the lid to find a one-portion replica of one of the wedding cake
choices. Except that on top was a decorative three-dimensional love knot formed from two men’s ties.

‘Compromise number one,’ Leo said. ‘Fruit cake—for the wedding favours. It lasts longer than the other cakes, so can be made in advance. The ties will be identical to what Caleb and Jonathan are wearing on the day.’

‘Anton is a genius.’ She turned to him, felt her heart stutter at the
hungry look on his face. ‘So! We nail the seating plan now and we’re done, right?’

Leo stepped closer to her. ‘That makes you happy, Sunshine, doesn’t it?’

‘Of—of course.’

‘The fact that we’ve done all the planning? Or that you don’t have to see me again?’

‘But I
do
have to see you,’ she said faintly. ‘At the trial dinner.’

‘You’re scared of me.’

‘That’s...insane.’

‘Prove it.’

‘There’s nothing to prove. And how could I prove it anyway?’

‘Kiss me.’

She goggled at him. ‘Excuse me?’

‘You used to. Every time you saw me. Before we had sex, at least. I thought things didn’t change for you just because you had sex with someone.’

‘They...they don’t.’

‘Then kiss me hello. Or you can make it goodbye, if you want. But do it. The way
you used to. Just a kiss on the cheek.’

She shook her head.

He smiled. ‘Ah. So
you’re
the one who won’t touch now, Sunshine.’

‘I—I do. I mean, I can. But it’s not... I just...’

He reached out, grabbed her elbow, and she jumped back.

‘See?’ he said. ‘What’s the problem? You’ve stayed friends with all your exes. Why not me?’

‘You’re not an ex.’ Her eyes widened as she
realised what she’d said. ‘I mean, you
are
.’ Stop. Breathe. Swallow. Hair toss. ‘Of course we’re friends.’

‘So kiss me.’

She gave an exaggerated, exasperated sigh. ‘All right,’ she said. She leant forward and kissed his cheek. ‘There! Satisfied?’

‘No. Do it again. Slower. And touch me this time. Your hand, somewhere on me.’

‘Ridiculous,’ she muttered.

‘Just do it.’

She touched his wrist, the burn mark. ‘What happened there?’

‘Hot pan, don’t change the subject—and that’s not touching.’

‘Okay—where do you want me to touch you?’ she asked, rolling her eyes with great theatricality.

His eyebrows shot up. He blinked. Slowly. Again.

Seriously?
He was thinking about
there
?

But, ‘Improvise...’ was what he said.

With the air of a person
suffering a fool, and
not
gladly, she ran her fingers up his forearm. ‘There.’

‘Now do that and kiss me at the same time.’

‘This is stupid.’

‘Do it.’

Huffing out an agitated breath, Sunshine leant up and gave him a fleeting kiss on the cheek while her hand gripped his forearm.

‘There! Satisfied?’ she said again. Hmm. That had come out a little too breathy.

‘Not good
enough—you’re not usually that tentative. Try again.’

She stood there, chewing her lip for a moment, and then, as though going into battle, she grabbed him by both arms and kissed him lingeringly on the cheek.

She felt the sizzle, the almost convulsive need to press into him. Jerked back. Stared. ‘So!’ she said, a little unsteadily.

‘It’s not going to work, Sunshine,’ he said.

‘I did it. It worked.’

‘You know what I mean.’

‘If you’re talking about sex, I—I told you. Two times. Over. Done with. Moving on.’

He stepped closer. ‘I didn’t agree to two. You’re not moving on—not in any sense. And I still want you.’

He looked into her eyes. She could feel the lust pulsing out of him. She could smell it. Almost taste the musky promise of it.

‘You
want me too,’ he said. ‘I can
see
it. Your eyes... You know, the size of a person’s pupils is the result of a balancing act between the autonomic nervous system, which controls the fight-or-flight response, and the parasympathetic system, known for its rest and digest functions—I read that online. Another fact to add to your collection.’

He stepped closer still.

‘But I prefer a simpler
explanation—sexual interest in what you’re looking at makes your pupils dilate. And yours, Sunshine, are looking mighty dilated.’

He pulled her into his arms, kissed her hard.

‘Compromise number two, Sunshine. And assignation number three. You’re not leaving here until it’s done.’