Chapter Twenty-Six

“I’m guessing walkabouts don’t normally kick off with private jets and end up on tropical islands in the middle of the Great Barrier Reef?”

Olivia’s voice was more rotgut moonshine than single-malt whiskey, but at least she was talking to him. The three hours since they’d left Brisbane had been as frustrating as they’d been unforgettable. No matter how much Jarrah enjoyed driving her crazy, he was running out of time. And time was the only thing he couldn’t escape on this island paradise. He slowly released the salty night air he’d just inhaled before turning to face his former holiday fling and future God-only-knew-what.

Olivia’s wet hair cascaded over her bare shoulders as she hitched up the towel tucked under her armpits and glared at him. It’d taken all his self-control not to strip off and join her in the outdoor shower adjoining their villa’s master suite as soon as their driver had disappeared. However, if the coral atoll Charlie booked for them hadn’t improved Olivia’s mood, the sight of him balls-out naked sporting a rabid hard-on would’ve probably gotten him killed. Turning his hips back toward the ocean to hide the bulge in his jeans, he clung to the driftwood railing encircling the villa’s deck to stop himself from charging her and swallowed the fist lodged in his throat. “How was the shower?”

She hit him with the same death stare she’d beaten him with whenever their hostess on the two-hour flight from Brisbane hadn’t been looking and crossed her arms over her chest. Either she had no idea what her posture did for her cleavage or she knew exactly what she was doing. Either way, he was powerless to prevent his jaw dropping and his eyeballs popping out of his head like a damned Looney Tunes character.

Her scowl softened ever so slightly as her glare raked down his body before she raised her fists into the air and cursed loud enough to scare the shit out of the resort staff on the other side of the island. With another whispered growl that sounded more like a groan, she dropped her chin to her chest and shook her head. “It was perfect.”

He released his death grip on the handrail and set free the smile he’d been hiding for reasons of pure survival. Whenever her delicious mouth hadn’t been twisted into a frown or mumbling obscenities about how she couldn’t afford the private jet, the inflight seven-course degustation dinner, or anything on the twelve-page wine list, it had been devouring everything placed in front of her. Which made maintaining her scowl almost impossible and had the added bonus of making her look even more adorable.

She slashed her arm over the veranda and across the suite. “The private charter flight was perfect. The canapés were perfect. The lobster was perfect. The burnt-caramel cheesecake was perfect. The hundred-year-old wine and thousand-year-old whiskey were perfect. And this villa’s freaking perfect.”

She paused her tirade long enough to suck in a ragged breath before advancing and lashing out her other arm over the moonlit ocean lapping the sparkling white sand beneath them. “The island’s perfect. The ocean’s perfect. And even the fucking weather’s perfect.”

She screeched to a halt in front of him with her barely contained chest heaving beneath the towel. Her clenched fists shook as if she was preparing to knock the shit out of him. “And…and…and you’re perfect.”

The words poured out of her on a sigh that drained the fight out of her as she hiccupped and collapsed against him. “I can’t afford any of this.”

The body he clung to flooded his animal brain with hundreds of ideas on how she could repay him. But she’d already given him way more than he could ever hope to repay. Chuckling, he eased his embrace just long enough to brush the hair from her face before capturing her again. They’d wasted enough time, and now that he held her, there was no way he was letting go.

“We’re on walkabout. The real world doesn’t exist. Money doesn’t exist. Your fancy new job doesn’t exist. And Carter Industries definitely doesn’t exist. It’s just you, me, and the Coral Sea.”

She groaned and pounded her forehead against his chest. “Ah, for Christ’s sake, why the hell did you have to go and say something sweet like that?”

This time he didn’t bother reining in his laughter. Capturing her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers and silenced her sullen potty mouth. With each strangled moan and thrust of her tongue, she climbed higher up his torso until she ground against his rigid cock and clawed her fingers into his hair. Before he’d even had a chance to properly grope what hid beneath her towel, she shoved out of his embrace and stepped back.

With an evil grin that almost had him embarrassing himself into his Jockey shorts right there on the damned deck, she yanked off her towel and stood stark naked before him.

“I think I’ve figured out a way to pay my way and help us forget the real world.”

With his mouth gaping and his blood-starved brain struggling to take in the miracle posing before him, she leaped off the deck, ran across the beach, and plunged into the ocean. After savoring the dream unfolding before him, he took off after her, only to trip down the stairs and crash head first into the sand with his Jockeys and jeans tangled around his ankles.