‘Let me add to the feeling,’ he said, crushing a strawberry into each of the flute glasses, pouring champagne over them, handing her one of the glasses with a very sensual smile. ‘A decadent palate cleanser for you.’
She laughed and sipped the delicious drink, her eyes flirting wickedly with his as he joined her in the bath and she stroked her foot up the inside of his thighs. He grabbed it, lifted it out of the water, poured some of his champagne on it and sucked her toes, his dark eyes twinkling wickedness right back as she gasped at the bolt of excitement that shot up her leg.
‘I’m going to taste all of you before this night is over.’
‘I think I might taste all of you, too,’ she quickly retorted, trying not to let him see how deeply he affected her.
He laughed and shook his head. ‘You’re never going to lie down for me, are you?’
She cocked an eyebrow. ‘I thought I already did.’
‘Not in your mind, Tamalyn. Not in your mind.’
‘Why would I, Fletcher, when you’ll be gone tomorrow?’
‘You have my full attention right now.’
‘And you have mine…right now.’
He gave her a long searing look, searching for a chink in the protective armour she’d pulled around her inner self. She stared back, determined not to surrender her soul to him until he was prepared to surrender his to her.
‘Fair enough,’ he finally conceded, reaching for a chocolate, removing its cellophane wrap, leaning forward and popping it into her mouth. ‘Let’s enjoy all there is to enjoy.’
She nodded agreement, biting into the chocolate filled with strawberry cream. She didn’t want any pretence from him that this situation was anything other than it was—one night together. The hope that it might lead to more had to be kept hidden. She did have some pride left, enough to cover the truth of how vulnerable she was to being hurt by his departure, not knowing if he would ever return to her.
Enjoying what they could have together tonight was all she could really count on.
So she would enjoy it…every minute of it.
CHAPTER SIX
THE moment of parting was fast approaching. Fletcher had ordered a taxi to take her home and requested the Porsche be brought up from the hotel car-park, ready for him to drive to the airport. His overnight bag was packed, his formal suit zipped up in a carry bag. He was casually dressed in jeans and sweatshirt, ready for his flight to America. Somehow the less formal clothes made him look even more magnetically virile, or maybe the memory of what lay under them was still so fresh in her mind, Tammy couldn’t view him without thinking of it.
He was a wonderful lover, surprising and delighting her with so much pleasure, she could not have dreamed how marvellous it had been with him, but it made it even harder to accept that this was all that might be between them. He hadn’t said anything about setting up another meeting and she couldn’t let herself ask for one.
A painful tension built up in her as she dressed in her bridesmaid’s outfit, having nothing else to wear. It would probably look odd for mid-afternoon, but who was to see her apart from some hotel staff and the taxi-driver? It didn’t matter. Only holding herself together long enough to give Fletcher a smiling farewell mattered. She couldn’t bear him to think she was hurt by his departure. A fierce pride dictated that the situation be handled in a light, carefree manner.
Tears pricked her eyes as she bent to slip on her high-heeled sandals. Desperate for him not to notice any moisture in them, she hurried into the bathroom and attacked the tangled mass of her hair with vigour, wielding the hair-brush hard enough to knock some sense into her head. If she got all emotional, it might make Fletcher feel guilty about stepping so intimately into her life, and guilt would probably wipe out any desire to step into it again. And she wanted him to. Wanted it so much she felt she would die inside if he didn’t.
He followed her into the bathroom, smiling at her in the mirror as he took the brush from her hand. ‘Let me,’ he said, and set about stroking the long tresses with a more gentle, sensual action.
She heaved a sigh to relieve the awful tightness in her chest and managed a smile back at him. ‘That’s nice.’
His eyes targeted hers in the mirror, probing with frightening intensity. ‘So what was it worth to you, Tamalyn?’ he asked.
Confusion swirled through the emotional bank she was barely suppressing. It took several moments for her to recollect their conversation at the wedding—her comment about friendship being worth more than a tumble in bed with him and his reply that they would measure the worth of their connection tomorrow.
Her fluttering heart hardened. No way would she reveal her feelings to him without some assurance that he returned them in some measure. ‘What was it worth to you?’ she countered, her eyes challenging the question in his.
His mouth twitched in wry amusement. ‘Still setting me back on my heels. Let me say it was well worth everything it cost me.’
Which probably put her on the same footing as a high-priced prostitute, though he probably wouldn’t have flown halfway around the world for one of those, so at least she was on a higher level than that. ‘I’m glad you came,’ she said, choosing her words carefully. ‘I very much enjoyed this time with you.’
‘Enough to repeat it at some future date?’ he bored in.
A cocktail of joy fizzed through her, ‘Yes,’ she said giddily, then sobered enough to quickly add, ‘If I’m free.’
He wasn’t proposing a serious relationship so she shouldn’t let him think she was readily available to him whenever he chose to call. Let him keep chasing her…until he was caught. If that was possible.
‘I’ll need your e-mail address so I can contact you when there’s a window of opportunity.’
He wasn’t offering his, which meant he didn’t want her to chase him. She was right in deciding to maintain a distance. ‘Don’t expect me to drop everything for you at a moment’s notice, Fletcher. Apart from the fact I work shifts at the hospital, which might have to be rearranged to give me the same window of opportunity as you, I might have made other choices by the time you e-mail me.’
He didn’t like that last remark. His mouth thinned into a grim line smacking of frustration and angry determination. His eyes narrowed, shading a sharp glitter of speculation. Was he asking himself if she meant it?
Tammy held his gaze, her stomach in painful knots. Had she made too light of what they had shared? Yet her own self-respect demanded that he not view her as his exclusive possession to be taken out and put down at his convenience. He’d given no exclusive commitment to her, only expressing the desire for a repetition of this weekend.