Jared gathered her to him. For a long moment he offered no words, just a hug as sweet and comfortable as it was uncomplicated.
‘I send them Christmas and birthday cards with a cheque when I can afford it. They cash the cheques without fail but I’ve never heard boo from them. So I don’t go back. I don’t want to.’
He squeezed her hand. They both knew the money was wasted. ‘So…you keep a dream diary,’ he prompted, switching to a less painful topic a moment later.
‘Yes.’ Her pulse skipped a beat and she swivelled to face him. How did he know?
‘I saw it on your bed when I left you in the shower. Hard to miss with the bright neon scrawl on the cover. Relax, Sophie, I didn’t read it. I would never invade your privacy that way.’
‘Okay.’ She blew out a breath. Silence filled the tiny space between them and in those quiet heartbeats she trusted him with the truth. ‘I used to have nightmares. My counsellor suggested it way back and it’s become a routine.’
She felt the warmth of his understanding flow over her. ‘Do you still have bad dreams?’
‘Not so much now.’ It occurred to her suddenly that she’d not made an entry since Saturday morning.
‘Am I in there?’ His voice turned playful.
She shoved at his arm. ‘You know you are.’
‘How many times?’
She grinned. ‘Not telling.’
‘What about fantasies, do you write them down too?’
‘No. They’re entirely different.’
‘Tell me a fantasy.’
‘I…can’t.’
‘Sure you can.’
‘You’ll laugh. Or think I’m awful.’
‘I promise I won’t do either.’
She snuggled nearer. ‘I’ve always imagined making love in the open. Under the stars. I’ve never done it outside.’
‘Never?’
She shook her head, then looked at him in the semi-darkness. ‘You?’
The curve of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes pronounced him guilty but he didn’t answer, just lifted her off the couch and carried her to his bed.
Jared’s body clock woke him daily at precisely five-thirty a.m. no matter what time he’d gone to bed. Another of those predictable patterns that made up his life. He was also one of those people many either envied or hated for his ability to rise and shine the moment his eyes opened. He habitually swam for thirty minutes then breakfasted on oranges or pineapple, two eggs and strong black coffee.
But it had been a very long time since he’d woken with a woman lying beside him.
And that woman was currently dead to the world. And no wonder—he’d kept her awake most of the night. He’d not been able to get enough of her. Her sweet taste, her summer fragrance, her silken hair rippling over his body in black waves when she was on top. The moans she made when she came…and there’d been a few, he thought with a smile.
He wondered how long it had been since she’d been with a man.
She shifted in her sleep, a tiny smile touched the corner of her mouth as if she was dreaming. Of him and the things he’d done to her through the night, perhaps. The things they’d done to each other.
His erection hardened, throbbed, almost to the point of pain while he continued to watch her. But it was more than the physical. And that bothered him. Healthy lust was all well and good, but this…almost desperate need— Scratch that thought. Good grief, he was not desperate. But he’d never experienced anything quite like the way it was with Sophie. Alarming was what it was.
Sophie was moving on, and that was best for both of them. He reminded himself he went for outdoorsy girls—personal trainers rather than personal assistants.
And yet… He frowned, trying to make sense of it. They’d both agreed it was short term, so what the heck was the problem?
He needed space. Hardly daring to breathe, he backed off the bed and padded outside to where the pool’s mirrored surface reflected the waning night.
Away from temptation. Better. He rubbed chilled arms then slid silently beneath the water. Cold water rushed past his ears as he torpedoed forward, feet and legs working economically. There was no problem, he assured himself as he broke the surface halfway down the pool’s length.
Deliberately blanking his mind, he sliced through the water, concentrating on his body. The pull of his muscles, the drag of air into his lungs, the taste of chlorine on his lips. After some time, more relaxed and to keep himself that way, he mentally rehearsed the day ahead. They didn’t have to be anywhere until their appointment at Brett Cameron’s office.
Brett was refurbishing an apartment block in Noosa Heads overlooking the ocean. He’d used Jared’s services for one of his resorts in nearby Mooloolaba. A man with a well-known business reputation and seemingly limitless funds.