Page 22 of The Wedding Pact

I look up at her, my brows pinched. ‘You enjoyed that then,’ I say, with deep irony. No one could have been in any doubt about that, judging by the almost orgasmic-sounding vocal soundtrack.

‘Sure did. It was delish!’

‘Glad to hear it,’ I say, unable to stop myself from smiling at her apparent delight.

Yeah. I think she knows exactly how distracting that was for me and is clearly finding the whole thing hilarious, judging by the poorly suppressed grin on her face.

She gets up from the table and puts her plate and crockery into the dishwasher, then saunters past me, out towards the door.

‘Right, I’m off for a sunbathe and a swim. Gotta make the most of this glorious sunshine!’

Before I have a chance to reply, she’s out of the door and turning to walk along the deck in front of the window. As she strolls past, she lifts her kaftan over her head, revealing a pink triangle-style bikini beneath it.

I try not to stare. Very, very, hard. But it seems it’s impossible for me to tear my eyes away from her as she saunters towards the swimming pool.

Once she’s out of sight I feel itchy and wired, like my body wants me to get up and do something, but my mind is telling me to stay put and keep working.

With regret, I listen to my mind. I have to stay focussed on this bloody contract or who knows what I’ll end up signing away.

So I force myself to look back at the screen again and keep reading.

It’s a few minutes until I stop vibrating, but I finally manage to get my eyes to focus on the words and my brain to decipher what I’m seeing.

I’m deep into a particularly dense paragraph when I’m suddenly aware of a change in the air behind me.

‘Do you want to come for a swim?’ Ida says behind me, making me jump. I turn to see her walking to the kitchen area and open the fridge to grab herself a bottle of water. She’s still in just her bikini and sunnies. Water droplets glisten on her skin.

Oh, man.

‘Er, no. Not right now,’ I say, my voice sounding husky and strangled. I cough, then gesture to the laptop. ‘Still not quite done.’

I’m having immense trouble keeping my eyes on her face, but I somehow manage it. I don’t want her thinking I’m a perv.

‘Okay. But it’s your loss. It’s gorgeous out there,’ she points out, her brow furrowed, but her expression playful. Lifting the bottle, she puts it to her lips and takes a long drink, exposing the column of her throat. A lone droplet of water runs down it into the hollow at the base of her neck.

There’s something incredibly sensual about the sight of this and my whole body goes on high alert, my pulse throbbing in my veins.

I pause for a long moment, wondering whether I should take a break and go for a swim with her.

It’s what I want to be doing right now, that’s for sure.

But the need to get this thing finished wins out. I wouldn’t enjoy myself with this unsent contract still hanging over my head.

‘I’ll swim tomorrow,’ I tell her firmly.

She lowers the bottle, her body language clearly showing her disappointment.

‘Look, sorry. I don’t mean to be rude, but I really have to get this done,’ I say, determinedly turning back to my laptop.

‘Okay, dude.’

My heart is thumping hard and it’s all I can do to keep looking at the screen as she walks – what feels unnecessarily close – past me on her way back outside.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear she was deliberately messing with me.

* * *

A couple of hours later, I’ve sent the signed contract and, aware that Ida has gone to shower and change for the evening after coming in from outside – this time mercifully not disturbing me on her way through – I’ve also freshened up and changed my clothes.