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drank myself into a state of forgetful- ness. Something I've never
done before, and an experience I wouldn't want to repeat. But I
suppose it had much the same effect.'
She picked up a corner of the crumpled towel and wiped her nose,
easing away from him. 'I must look a sight.'
His arms still loosely holding her, Quinn smiled. 'No.' He smoothed a
tangled skein of her hair back from her hot face. 'A bit pink and
pathetic.'
Pathetic. Stefanie grimaced.
Quinn's smile turned to a crooked little grin. He dipped his head and
kissed her nose. His lips wandered to her cheek. He drew back a
fraction, and his eyes changed, darkened and with infinite, breath-
stopping slowness, he lowered his head again until his mouth touched
her swollen, trembling one.
She felt drained and listless, but Quinn's mouth moving gently,
persuasively on hers brought warmth and life seeping back into her
soul. Tentatively she responded, and his kiss became firmer, parting
her throbbing lips.
Time spun away, and the trees around them seemed to recede, the
sound of the waterfall becoming a distant hush. She could feel the
texture of Quinn's bare skin where her palm rested on his chest. His
hand smoothed her back, then shaped the inward curve of her waist,
and finally found the soft mound of her breast.
Her heartbeat accelerated, and she felt his hand tighten, knew that he
could feel her reaction, even before his thumb flicked over the
hardened centre of her breast, scarcely shielded by the damp satin of
her swimsuit.
Stefanie made a small sound in her throat, and he shifted his position,
gently bore her back to the soft, cushiony moss, and made her mouth
open for him.
Her hands moved over his chest to his shoulders, finally sliding
behind his neck, her arms clinging. His body was warm and heavy,
his legs muscular and tantalisingly rough against her thighs, and she
could feel his burgeoning arousal.
Sensation washed over her, sweeping away thought, sense, memory.
All that mattered was this burning, consuming physical need. A need
she instinctively knew that Quinn could satisfy. She didn't want to
think any more, just plunge into this dizzying maelstrom, let herself
be swept away by the things his mouth, his hands, his eager male
body were doing to her.
He slipped the strap of her swimsuit from her shoulder, and lifted his
head, pushed down the material further and looked at her, her bare
breast now cupped in his big hand.
Then his glittering gaze moved to her face, her half-closed eyes and
parted, kiss-warmed lips. 'Stefanie...' he said hoarsely. She saw him
swallow, and his jaw went taut as he looked at her. He said something
under his breath, and then his hand left her skin, pulled up the strap
back onto her shoulder. He closed his eyes momentarily, giving his
head a little shake.
And then he was rolling away, sitting up, rubbing a fist across his
forehead as he bent his head, saying as if the word was wrenched
from between his teeth, 'Sorry.'
Stefanie struggled up too, drawing her knees into encircling arms,
trying not to shiver despite the sun's warmth. 'Sorry?' She hadn't
exactly fought him off.
The whole thing such as it was had been totally mutual.
Quinn lifted his head, meeting her dazed eyes with a banked green
fire in his. He said huskily, 'I didn't intend to do that. It wasn't
supposed to happen.'
Stefanie licked her lips. What had just happened here? 'Because we're
not supposed to be...'
'Lovers?' he suggested as she hesitated. 'That's right, we're only
supposed to be married.' His mouth twisted. 'Ironic, isn't it?'
Thrusting a hand over his hair, he said again, 'Sorry.'
'It's as much my fault as yours.' She'd been nestling in his arms with
practically nothing on, and she certainly hadn't objected when he'd
started to kiss her.
'It was unfair. You were feeling vulnerable and I took advantage.' He
stood up, hauling on his shirt, and turned to pull on his shorts. 'You
didn't know what you were doing.'
Had he?
Slowly she got up too, reached for her own clothes and put them on,
still feeling disoriented and very confused. How could she have gone
so quickly from crying her eyes out over Bryan to passionately
kissing Quinn? Wanting Quinn? She'd never been the kind of girl
who went easily from one love affair to another. In fact the only man
she'd been seriously involved with had been Bryan, after a few
innocent experimental relationships.
She'd thought their marriage would have a solid basis because they'd
known each other so long and love had crept up on them rather than
arriving in a blinding flash. Yet it had all been an illusion.
And maybe this was too. Quinn was right, ofcourse; neither of them
was ready to embark on an affair only weeks after being jilted, and
she should be glad he'd called a halt.
Quinn picked up the pack and slung it to his shoulder. 'Coming?'
She followed him back along the track to the scooters, hardly noticing
the leaves that brushed her shoulder, sometimes her cheeks or hair.
He seemed preoccupied too, silently checking on her with a brief
glance behind, or simply lifting a branch out of her way.
Once they remounted the scooters she was glad of the necessity to
concentrate on negotiating the ruts and treacherous tree roots that
made the dirt road tricky, until they reached a more populated part of
the island and a better surface.
Back at the house, Quinn said he had some work to catch up on, and
disappeared into his room.
Stefanie went to her own, and sat on the bed for a long time, trying to
work out her muddled feelings, without a great deal of success.
'I was wondering,' she told Quinn at lunch a few days later, 'if you
could set up a computer database for me to use in the archiving [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]

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