Louisa Heaton – Her Ex, Her Future?: One Night with Her Ex / Seven Nights with Her Ex / Backstage with Her Ex (страница 13)

‘Yours, I believe.’ He held out her drink.

Lily took it, ensuring that their fingers didn’t accidentally brush. ‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘The hotel business not doing too well these days, darling? Having to moonlight as a waiter?’

Kit shot her a smile that despite her intention to stay cool and unruffled made her hot and bothered in a way that had nothing to do with the afternoon heat. ‘The hotel business is doing great. And as I was on my way over anyway I thought I’d save him the trip.’

Lily lifted the glass to her lips, swallowed down a massive gulp and winced as the tequila shot down her throat and hit her stomach. ‘So thoughtful.’

‘I can be.’

She licked the salt from her lips and felt a sharp stab of satisfaction when his gaze dropped to her mouth for a second. ‘This is beginning to become a bit of a habit,’ she said.

‘What is?’

‘You showing up unexpectedly.’

‘I might be on holiday.’

Yeah, right. ‘Are you?’

‘Yes.’

‘My, what a coincidence.’

‘Isn’t it just? Do you mind if I join you?’

Yes. ‘Not at all,’ she said, waving a hand in the direction of the sun lounger to her right as she sat down. ‘Be my guest.’

Kit took off his sunglasses, folded them and hooked one arm over the V of his T-shirt. Then he sat down and leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees.

As his eyes met hers Lily felt herself beginning to lose track of things, as she often did when she looked into his eyes, and she wished he’d kept his sunglasses on. Instead she put her own back on, and waited.

‘I was told you were staying at the Coral Bay Lodge,’ said Kit.

‘Who by?’

‘Zoe.’

Of course. No one else apart from the client knew she was in this part of the world. But what the hell did Zoe think she was doing? Normally her sister was the soul of discretion, so what had happened? How could she ever have thought that Lily would want to see Kit? How had he ever persuaded her to release the details? Had he said something about what had happened between them on New Year’s Eve, and Zoe, in her current state of ecstatic happiness and filled with the resultant determination for everyone else to feel the same, was under some warped misconception that she was facilitating a reconciliation?

Whatever the reason, Lily thought darkly, she and her sister would be having words just as soon as she was free to call. ‘When did you speak to her?’

‘New Year’s Day.’

A week ago. ‘Right. Why?’

‘I rang you, but you didn’t pick up.’

‘I was travelling.’

‘You didn’t return my calls.’

‘I didn’t know it was you.’

He arched a sceptical eyebrow. ‘Didn’t you?’

‘You should have left a message.’

‘Would you have called me back if I had?’

‘Of course.’

‘Sure about that? Because I don’t remember getting a reply to my email.’

Lily smiled and shrugged nonchalantly. ‘Well, I guess we’ll never know, will we?’

‘I guess not.’

‘So were you worried about me, Kit? Ah, that’s sweet.’

‘I wasn’t worried in the slightest,’ he said easily. ‘I merely wanted to talk to you. This seemed to be the only way of achieving that.’

‘I’m flattered.’

‘You should be. You were tricky to track down.’

‘I moved hotels.’

‘You moved islands.’

Lily took another gulp of her margarita. ‘Yes, well, these islands are small. My hanging around on Santa Teresa once my work was done might have looked a bit odd.’

‘It took me longer than I’d expected to find you.’

‘Are you after an apology?’

‘Would I get one?’

‘Not this time.’

Kit grinned that heart-fluttering grin of his and her stomach flipped in a way she didn’t like at all. ‘Didn’t think so,’ he murmured.

‘Couldn’t you have waited until I got back? I haven’t had a holiday in years.’

‘Patience isn’t one of my strong points.’

‘No.’ She paused and then gave it one last futile, she suspected, shot. ‘Is there anything at all I can do to make you go away?’

‘Not a thing.’

No, she hadn’t thought so. Lily sighed and resigned herself to the inevitable. ‘OK, fine. You win. But I’m not dressed for a chat.’ She certainly wasn’t ready.

He ran his gaze over her, so slowly and thoroughly that she felt as if he’d stripped her bare. ‘You look fine to me,’ he said, a little hoarsely she thought, ‘but perhaps you’re right. Maybe this isn’t the time or the place.’

Never and nowhere would be the right time and place in her opinion, but what could she do? On an island this size she’d never be able to avoid him, and hopping on the next available boat to the mainland wasn’t the answer because not only was running away immature, as Kit had just proved, he’d simply come in search of her.

Anyway, it would probably be fine. All they were going to do was talk, and talking never killed anyone, did it?

Besides, on one of the extremely rare occasions that Kit had flitted into her head over the last week she’d reflected that she’d been wrong when on her doorstep a week ago she’d told him they’d never been able to talk. Communication between the two of them had always been fine when there wasn’t much of import to communicate. The problems had only arisen when the stakes had been stratospheric, when emotions had run high and they’d felt exposed and vulnerable. It was then that they’d both gone into hiding and communication had become a four-letter word.

Tonight there wouldn’t be anything at stake. Kit might make her feel a bit on edge, and, God, he looked mouth-wateringly, spine-tinglingly hot in the white polo shirt, khaki shorts combination he was currently wearing, but she wasn’t emotionally involved. Not now.

And, actually, if he wanted to rake through the ashes of their relationship, that was fine with her because there were things she needed to tell him. Things she’d come to realise over the last five years. Things that she wanted to get off her chest and he ought to know.

She was much stronger than she’d been all those years ago, and with the exception of the wobble she’d had on New Year’s Eve, which had merely been down to shock anyway, he didn’t have the ability to hurt her any more.

Therefore, if she was well prepared and stayed focused conversation with Kit would be fine. Cathartic even. ‘Shall we have dinner?’

‘The restaurant?’

Of course the restaurant; no way was she inviting him to her villa for room service. ‘Why not?’

‘Eight o’clock?’

Three hours in which to decide her strategy? Three hours in which to don her suit of armour? Or, despite her brave thoughts just now, three hours in which to get completely and utterly hammered? Whichever route she chose to take three hours was perfect.

Draining the rest of her margarita and ignoring the small bundle of nerves beginning to twist her stomach, Lily nodded coolly. ‘Eight o’clock it is.’

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