and eggs?’
What he wanted was to drag her back to bed and make love to her until the sleepiness left her eyes and satisfaction took its place. What he wanted was to ask her what she had planned for the day and then rearrange his own schedule to fit in around hers so he could see her again later. What he said was, ‘No, thanks. This is fine.’
‘So … ‘she poured herself a cup of coffee and cradled it in her hands as she leaned back against the kitchen counter and studied him ‘… what do you usually talk about at breakfast?’
‘Usually I’m by myself.’
‘When you’re not,’ she said dryly.
He tried to think. Couldn’t. Not when she strolled over and settled into the chair opposite him and her scent wrapped around him like a promise. ‘Work. We talk about work. What that person is doing with their day. That sort of thing. ‘
‘Oh,’ she said. And with another one of those lazy, loaded smiles, ‘What are you doing with your day, Pete Bennett?’
‘Well …’ He wished his mind would return from wherever he’d dropped it. It was probably somewhere over by the door. ‘First up is Corfu to drop passengers, then Cyprus to pick up some cargo, then back to mainland Greece. I’ll overnight in Athens.’
‘Skite,’ she muttered. ‘I’m going to the Vespa shed. I’ll be there until five.’
‘I’ll think of you.’ Nothing but the truth.
‘What else do you talk about?’
‘Anything. Everything. Except for home improvements. A woman starts talking home improvements and I start to get nervous.’
‘Really?’ she said archly. ‘So you don’t think this kitchen needs a bigger window? I think it needs a much bigger window. I mean, look at that view! It’s just begging to be taken advantage of.’
‘It doesn’t work when you talk about improvements to your home,’ he told her smugly as he reached for the cereal. ‘It only works when the house in question is mine.’
‘Ah. I should have guessed.’
‘You should be grateful,’ he told her. ‘You don’t want a man who’s looking for a woman to improve his home, remember?’
‘Not yet, anyway,’ she murmured.
‘So … you do want one eventually?’ This was interesting.
‘Well, yes,’ she said with a toss of her head. ‘Eventually. But now is not convenient.’
‘Why not?’
‘I want to travel for a while. Concentrate on my career. Be free of family for a bit. Family commitments are messy. They confuse things.’
‘So … you’re streamlining.’ Pete looked around at the mass of food, remembering the easy way she dealt with Nico and with Sam, with everyone who crossed her path, and stifled a grin.
Serena’s eyes narrowed. ‘Something amusing you?’
‘If I had to hazard a guess I’d say you liked life a little messy and complicated.’
‘Maybe in the past,’ she said. ‘Maybe for another few weeks. But in a month’s time life is going to be sleek, career-focussed, and ever so slightly narcissistic.’
‘Hence our rules for this relationship.’
‘Exactly. I knew you’d understand. More coffee?’
Pete kept his expression deadpan as she breezed her way through the breakfast ritual. Toast, animated discussion of a story in the newspaper, a grocery list for Nico. He ate his cereal, watched her put a load of Nico’s work clothes in the washing machine, and wondered afresh at humankind’s capacity for self-delusion. The fresh-brewed-coffee goddess didn’t have a narcissistic bone in her body. Oh, she might have looked the part, but beneath all that blatant sensuality lay an innate regard for the welfare of others that he doubted she’d ever shake.
No matter what kind of plans she’d made for the future.
His watch told him it was time to fly. His stomach told him there was no reason to linger over breakfast any longer. Sighing, Pete stood and took his breakfast bowl and coffee-cup over to the sink.
‘You’re right. You do need a bigger window here,’ he said as she came to stand beside him.
‘I knew you’d see it my way.’ Serena smiled and leaned back against the counter, her hands either side of her as he stepped in closer, effectively trapping her between himself and the counter. Her smile widened.
‘Maybe instead of dinner next time, we could do something your honorary protectors don’t object to quite so much. We could go sightseeing.’ He brushed her lips with his. ‘Swimming.’ Another kiss, just as fleeting. ‘Something.’
‘When will you be back this way?’ she murmured, leaning towards him and lifting her mouth towards his for a kiss rich with promise and in no way fleeting. His mind had fogged and he was a whisper away from taking things further when finally she drew away.
‘Soon.’
Just over one week later, Serena sat at the desk in her grandparents’ tiny sitting room that doubled as an office and waded through her latest batch of job applications. She’d commandeered one of Nico’s fishing crew to run the Vespa hire business for the afternoon so she could get this latest lot done and on their way. Trouble was, she was doing more daydreaming than working and her pile of completed job applications didn’t seem to be getting any bigger. Time was wasting. Flying.
Wrong word. Serena scowled and tried very hard not to think of other things that might be flying, a particular person who might be flying for example, although he certainly hadn’t been flying her way of late.
He’d said he’d be back soon. One week did not qualify as soon.
When it came to life on the island, one week bore a startling resemblance to eternity.
‘Nico said I’d find you here,’ said a deep voice from the doorway and Serena caught her breath at the sudden rapid pounding of her heart. She turned slowly, her brain wrestling her wayward body for control of her next actions. Her body was all for launching itself into his arms and getting frantic fast. Her brain wanted something a little more demure and nonchalant. Something composed.
She settled for leaning back in her chair and swirling round to face him, chin high in silent defiance of the effect he had on her body. She could control this. She could. ‘You’re late,’ she said darkly, drinking him in, those startling good looks, the smile in his eyes and the way his lips tilted at her words.
‘How goes the job hunting?’ he said.
‘It’s probably best if you don’t ask about the job hunting right now.’
‘That bad, huh?’
‘Let’s just say there’s not a lot here that makes my heart go pitter patter.’ Apart from the obvious.
‘So can I persuade you to take some time out to go for a Vespa ride or a swim?’
With a smile like that he could doubtless persuade her to do anything. Not that he needed to know that.
‘I can probably spare a few hours. Distractions aren’t all that common around here. When they arrive we tend to make time for them. It’s just the island way.’ There. Nonchalant had been well and truly nailed. Who said she had no control around this man? She looked at the carryall at his feet. ‘Are you staying overnight?’
‘Two hours.’
‘That’s it?’ Her nonchalance headed south, never mind the nails.
‘I have a pick-up in Santorini later this afternoon. Business is booming.’
Bummer.