Debbi Rawlins – Red-Hot Honeymoon: The Honeymoon Arrangement / Marriage in Name Only? / The Honeymoon That Wasn't (страница 19)

‘Also the fact that he has two kids under the age of three who are up and roaring around at that time,’ Sarah added, before bidding them goodnight and leaving them to their night under the African stars.

Within minutes they heard the Land Rover pulling away and Finn turned to Callie and gestured to the view. ‘So, what do you think?’

‘Pretty shoddy digs …’ Callie teased. ‘They’ve gone to absolutely no trouble at all.’

Finn watched as she walked to the edge of the platform and placed her hands on the safety railing. ‘Want some champagne?’

Callie looked at him over her shoulder and wrinkled her nose. ‘No, thanks. Actually, I’d love a beer.’

Finn poured beer into a glass for her and brought it and his own bottle over to where she stood. In silence they scanned the river, saw a pod of hippos on the far bank, and watched as the sun tossed ribbons of gold over the treetops.

Finn saw her shiver as the temperature dropped further and allowed the backs of his fingers to drift over the bare skin of her shoulders. ‘You’re cold … This wind has a bite to it. Why don’t you change into something warm and I’ll start a fire in the pit?’

Callie looked around. ‘Where are our bags?’

‘Sarah took them to the bedroom area,’ Finn replied.

‘Ah, the bedroom area. Bet you it’s a massive bed covered in white linen and a mosquito net, surrounded by candles.’

‘That’s a sucker bet,’ Finn replied.

Callie took a nervous sip of her beer before lifting her eyes to Finn’s. ‘So, are we still paying it by ear?’

He’d never met a woman as direct as Callie before. He liked that—respected it. He didn’t need to play games with her.

But she wasn’t ready to share herself with him yet, Finn realised. He could see reluctance in the hitch of her shoulders, the slight shake of her fingers—although that might be from the cold—and in the worry in her eyes. She would share his bed one of these days—just not yet. And that was okay. He could wait until the time was right.

And, in the spirit of honesty, he knew the more time he had between his break-up and sleeping with her, the better handle he’d have on this entire situation. Damn, it would all be so much easier if he didn’t like her quite so much—and if she didn’t make his junk want to do a happy dance whenever she breathed.

So. Much. Easier.

Finn’s expression turned serious. ‘I have the sense that your flirty nature doesn’t often translate into bedtime fun.’

Callie tipped her head. ‘How do you figure?’

‘Well, if it meant less to you then we’d have already ripped each other’s clothes off.’

Callie looked out at the stygian darkness. ‘It wasn’t always like that. I was a lot more impetuous when I was younger.’ She held up her hand to explain. ‘I wasn’t a slut—I just didn’t take sex as seriously as I do now. It used to just be a romp … some slap and tickle … fun …’

‘It still can be,’ Finn said, his eyes locked on her face.

‘I know, but these days I prefer to have a little bit of friendship with my sex. Just a smidgeon—I don’t expect more than that—but liking is a prerequisite, respect is a bonus.’

‘I like you.’

‘I like you too, but …’

Finn quirked an eyebrow. ‘But?’

‘But …’ Callie sighed. ‘I’m just not—’

Callie stopped speaking and Finn waited for her to finish her thought. She just wasn’t what?

Callie sighed. ‘Ready. I’m just not ready.’

Yeah, and that was a lie. There was another reason why she was hesitating, why she was treading carefully. She wanted him—he knew that … had no doubts about that. So something else was causing her to hesitate. What was it and why was he so desperate to know?

Callie was waiting for his reply, buy there was nothing that he could say except, ‘We won’t be doing anything together until you are a hundred per cent comfortable with me, Cal. So try and relax, stop worrying, go and get warm. We can share a bed without me jumping you, I promise. Actually, tonight I’d love to sleep in this hammock. It looks super-comfortable and I’ve slept in far worse.’ Finn took a long sip of his beer. ‘Go and put something warm on, honey.’

Callie nodded, put her untouched beer on the table and walked to the stairs leading to the sleeping platform. Finn watched her gorgeous ass moving up the spiral staircase and felt the action in his pants.

All he had to do was follow her, start kissing her, and she’d be his. He knew that. God, it was tempting. But he didn’t want to have to coerce her, tempt her, persuade her. When they made love it would be because it was a mutual decision.

It had something to do with the respect that Callie had been talking about earlier.

‘Finn! This bedroom is amazing!’ Callie called down to him. ‘Come up here and look at this place. It would be like having sex in the clouds—I mean, sleeping with you in the clouds—I mean … Aaarrrgggh! Dammit!’

Finn grinned, happy that he wasn’t the only one who had his mind in the bedroom.

‘Ignore me.’ Callie’s low voice drifted down to him.

Yeah, not easy to do, Finn silently assured her as he swallowed his chuckle.

Callie pushed her plate away and groaned as she leaned back in her chair. She’d expected a cold supper. She hadn’t expected delicious prawns, spicy fish fillets and perfectly cooked steak. There’d also been a couscous salad and a watermelon, olive and feta salad, along with crusty bread and a variety of dips.

After the flight from Cape Town and two glasses of red wine she was feeling lazy and hazy and very sleepy. At nearly eight it was fully dark, and the soundtrack of the African bush had started to play. The crickets chirping was a familiar sound, and there was the power saw noise of the African cicada beetle. Occasionally a fish eagle would let rip with a heee-ah, heeah-heeah, and from somewhere that sounded far too close they heard the yelping, woofing and whining of what Finn said was a family of black-backed jackals.

It was noisy, Callie realised. Very noisy.

Finn, his strong features looking even more handsome in the low light of the paraffin lamps, looked at her across the table. ‘There’s chocolate mousse in the cool box.’

‘I wish I could. I’m stuffed.’

Like her, Finn had pulled on jeans and a hooded sweatshirt against the cool night air. The blazing fire in the pit kept the worst of the chill off, but this was a place that invited you to have a warm shower and then to snuggle under the down duvet on the bed upstairs, warm in each other’s arms.

It was an attractive proposition, Callie thought. But Finn had reiterated his wish to sleep in the double hammock. He’d found another down duvet in a storage cupboard on the bathroom platform and announced that he’d be super-warm wrapped up in it in the hammock.

‘You look tired,’ Finn commentated, lifting his glass of red to his lips.

‘I am.’ Callie leaned her arms on the table. ‘It’s been an interesting week.’

‘You should’ve been in Paris by now.’

Tearing around the city, rushing from designer to designer, not having a moment to enjoy the city in the spring … Callie thought that she would much rather be here.

‘You never told me what happened that you could suddenly take me up on my offer to be a fake wife.’

Could she tell him? Would he understand? Callie ran her finger around the rim of her full glass. He was treating her to three weeks in luxury—maybe he deserved an explanation. And, geez, they were going to be in each other’s company for three weeks—they were going to have to talk! They were going to be friends whether they liked it or not. It was up to her to keep things casual.

‘I’m running away—trying to avoid someone,’ she said, looking into the fire pit. So much for keeping it casual!

‘Yeah, I sort of realised that.’ Finn stretched out his legs and rested his wine glass on his folded arm. ‘So, who is Laura and why are you avoiding her?’

Callie jerked her head up. ‘Where did you hear that name?’

‘The other day, when you were arguing with your brother. Who is she?’ Finn asked again.

Well, she’d started this conversation, she couldn’t shut it down now.

‘My mother,’ Callie said, slouching down in her chair, crossing her feet at the ankles. ‘She left us. We haven’t heard from her since I was seven. Seb, my brother, has been tracking her movements around the world for years—he’s a hacker and can do that—and they started exchanging emails. The result of which is that Laura is coming home for a three-week visit, landing—’ Callie checked her watch ‘—in about an hour. She and Seb are going to reconnect, and everybody wants me to meet her too. Well, “everybody” being Seb.’

‘And you made damn sure that there was no possibility of that happening by leaving the city with me? That’s why you changed your mind about coming?’ Finn said, his voice deep in the darkness.

‘Yeah. I needed to leave and you gave me a damn good excuse.’ Would he think she was a coward? That she was being immature? Why did it matter so much that he didn’t judge her?

Finn pulled his legs in and sat up. ‘So why don’t you want to meet her? Why don’t you want to hear why she left?’

That question again, Callie thought.

‘Because it doesn’t matter! Because nothing she can say—and, trust me, I’ve thought of every excuse she could come up with—would make me feel better, would make me understand. I was seven, Finn. Seven! I needed a mother. Especially since my dad dealt with my mother leaving by hooking up with younger and younger women. They were mostly after his money, and weren’t interested in his little daughter hanging around. Seb was twelve, and he dealt with her leaving by withdrawing into his sports and computers.’