‘It destroyed her when her father came clean,’ Olivia said. ‘She’d lost her mother in a car accident a few years earlier. Everything she’d thought about her family was turned on its head. But she wants that connection with you. You’re all she has.’
He tangled his fingers in Olivia’s hair and stared into those emotion-filled eyes. ‘She has you.’
‘I’m not her family, Jett. She needs that family connection. And so do you.’
Her words struck deep. He wanted to tell her she was wrong but the words stuck in his throat. Because she wasn’t wrong. Through her own actions, she’d demonstrated family love could be strong and committed and unconditional. And he could have that too; he just had to reach out and take it.
He continued stroking her hair. ‘I’m sorry your mum passed away. You two obviously had loads in common and were very close.’
‘In so many ways.’ Her voice turned sadder than he’d ever heard. Her eyes filled with clouds before she turned away to stare out at the night.
He sensed there was more she wasn’t saying.
‘What do you mean?’ When she didn’t respond, he was seized by a fierce need to know. He wanted to hold her close and demand she tell him. ‘I just told you stuff I’ve never told anyone and you don’t want to return the favour?’
‘It’s not about returning favours.’ Irritation in her voice. ‘Why is everything—?’
‘What’s your secret, Olivia?’ He rolled her over so she was beneath him. Held her face between his hands so she had nowhere else to look but at him. ‘Because I know you have one. I see it in your eyes. I hear it when you speak.’
Those eyes glittered with unshed tears. ‘Make love to me, Jett.’
No words, just sighs and murmurs and whispers in the deepening twilight. They made love as if they hadn’t had enough. As if they’d never get enough.
Make love to me, Jett. Her emotional plea echoed in the darkness for hours afterwards and it occurred to him as they lay in each other’s arms that with Olivia, it wasn’t just sex. It was deeper than pleasure. A closeness he’d never allowed himself to feel. It was a connection of more than mere body parts fitting together and it was unique, like her.
And that was the difference. He’d had sex with countless women but he’d never made love with anyone before.
FOURTEEN
The next morning they eventually got around to discussing their fundraising event.
‘We can’t have it till Brie comes back,’ Olivia said, tapping her pen on the table.
Jett tipped back on his chair, studying the note pad in front of him. ‘So three weeks?’
‘Yes. It’ll give us time to set it up.’
‘So which idea are we going with?’ he asked. As if he didn’t know her mind was already made up.
By the end of the following day their plans were taking shape. Jett had taken her suggestion for a glitzy overnight dinner cruise in Hobart in his stride. It was a fitting way to honour her mother—yachting was in their blood, after all. He’d been assured this luxury cruising yacht was nothing like Chasing Dawn and they’d be on the calmer waters of the Derwent River, rather than on the high seas. They were to spend the night aboard. How could he refuse?
And all thanks to a multimillionaire oil magnate from Sydney with whom Olivia had made contact on Christmas Eve. Joe McPherson had listened to her story. His first wife had died of cancer and he was happy to make the trip south before he and his new wife set sail for Hawaii. The date had been set.
She arranged an online auction within the yacht clubs, with the top five bidders and their partners at the end of one week to be the successful candidates. ‘I know that’s not many but it’s a quality night and these people are seriously loaded. They’ll also spread the word.’
‘Whatever you want, it’s your call.’
‘It’s about networking,’ she told Jett. ‘They knew Mum so it follows that they want to help Snowflake and will bid high. We don’t need a crowd, we just need classy.’
Jett would be in charge of the menu and catering and would oversee the kitchen—ahem—galley. He’d hit on a few chefs he’d worked with who were prepared to work the evening at no cost and in return Jett would pay for their flights and upmarket overnight hotel accommodation.
By the end of the week they had their successful bidders with twice the amount they’d hoped for promised. Jett took Olivia to one of Hobart’s fine dining restaurants at a popular art hotel on the waterfront to celebrate.
* * *
When Olivia thought she heard her phone buzzing a couple of nights later, she ignored it, burrowing deeper beneath the sheets and snuggling into the warm body behind her. She was exhausted, sleep-deprived—in the best way—and then there was that delicious man lying buck naked against her back. Nothing and no one was going to tempt her to leave her bed until at least lunch time. Maybe not even then.