To Love Honour and Disobey(2)

Sebastian took a couple of big breaths and tried to clear the mess from  his head. Hell. He hadn't imagined her being like this. He hadn't  imagined her looking like this. All these months when he'd thought of  her she'd been quite different-pale, a little shy, compliant.                       
       
           



       

Here she was tanned, her hair was longer, loose and she was wearing only  a singlet top and shorts. She looked light and bright and confident.

OK, so she'd been shocked to see him. The moment of recognition had  written it all over her face. Not a pleasant surprise. But she was  smiling again now. Eyes veiled for sure. But still a smile-an incredible  smile, actually.

'I wanted to see you. I wanted to … ' He hesitated. It had ended badly.  Less than a week after the wedding there'd been a hell of a row and  she'd walked. It had been his fault. And at the time he'd been a bit  relieved-sanity had started to return. But then he'd started to wonder.  'I wanted to make sure you're OK.'

It had been a relief to finally hear from her-but just getting the  divorce papers wasn't enough. He couldn't just sign them and forget. He  had to see her for himself. To be sure. There weren't many things in his  life he regretted. But he regretted that week more than anything.

'Well-' her smile didn't falter '-as you can see, I'm fine, Sebastian.'

That hint of challenge in her voice slipped into his blood like a needle  shot of deadly virus. His body reacted on the spot. Could it fight  it-finally build some defence-or would it succumb to the disease-again?

'Yeah.' He nodded, despite himself. 'You are.'

She was more than fine. The ripple in his body told him that, the rise  of temperature, of awareness. He might be looking at her face, but every  cell absorbed her slender curves and incredibly long limbs that were so  on show in those short, short shorts.

Memories stirred. Memories he'd buried. The scent, the laughter, the  sparkle in her eyes and the satin of her skin. And her heat.

He was stifling hot now-it was Africa though, wasn't it?-not because of  her. It was the dry, inescapable heat of a continent almost always in  drought.

Well, not quite. Because not only was he hot. He was hard. He suppressed  the unexpected flare of desire. Surely not. Not going there again. He  looked back on that week and it was like this blurred rush of events  that had knocked the breath from his lungs and the sense from his head.  Even now he couldn't work out how it had happened. How he'd come to  commit such folly.

Then he refocused on her. Felt the tightening deep within. And knew.  Sexual drive, physical compatibility, instant lust. Whatever you wanted  to call it, they'd had it-by the oversized shipping-container load. But  they hadn't had anything else. They hadn't had time for anything  else-and no interest either. He never had interest in more.

He felt a vague stirring of panic. So he'd seen her. She was  fine-clearly absolutely, completely, utterly fine. But now he was stuck  on a truck with her for another week. Not well planned, Seb. He wanted  to call out to the driver, to get off again, but they were out of the  town now and heading towards some national park wilderness. OK. He sat a  little further away from her. He could handle this, couldn't he? He  could control his more insane animal urges. Hadn't he spent the last  year discovering the meaning of discipline?

Ana looked out of the side of the truck and blinked. Trying to stop the  fog from clouding her head. She'd forgotten. She'd totally forgotten.  OK, so she'd made herself forget. It had been the only way to get  through the heartache, by blanking out the electricity that had arced  between them. But here it was back again. Like a flash, before she'd  even realised it was him-making her body want to bend towards him.

As he was almost six foot five people couldn't help but notice  Sebastian-and that was just the height thing. While she knew all about  that, that was where their commonality ended. When you added the rest of  Seb's body, the smile and the ice-blue eyes, you had an awesome  package-something that definitely couldn't be said for her. She was just  overly tall, overly angular, overly shy. And there was something more  about Seb. Something that transcended the physical. Something that made  not just women sit up, but men too. That unspoken authority, his  confidence.

A man in control-the man in control.

That was Seb. The one everyone said yes to. But she wasn't going to let  him take control of them again as he had that week. There was no them.

Confidence rippled through her. Yes. She was no longer the pushover he'd  met back then. In fact the strength she now had was partly a result of  his attention. There might have been nothing else, but that extreme  passion had been something for her to cling to. No one had ever wanted  her-or indeed had her-the way Sebastian had in that week. And for  someone to have wanted her like that-even for just a short time-had been  a huge boost to her self-esteem. For the first time in her life she'd  felt beautiful. Such a shame, then, wasn't it, that what had then  happened had happened? But she'd learned from it-moved on and become  determined to make something more of herself. Really she ought to thank  him for giving her the fuel, the firepower to finally take charge of her  life. 'So you're joining the truck?'                       
       
           



       

'Yeah.'

Oh, well. That was going to be interesting. 'It's almost over.' No  hiding the thank-goodness-for-that in her tone. She smiled brighter to  make up for it.

'I'm staying on for a bit after.' He grinned too, as if he knew her  sentiments and understood the relief. 'Doing some sightseeing on my  own.'

'Great.' Good luck to him. She'd be on the plane and getting on with her  life. But before then they had a week to get through. She processed the  thought: they didn't need to mix together much-could sit apart. Yet it  was such a small environment on the truck. If only she'd made more of an  effort with the other passengers she could hide amongst them. But she'd  kept herself to herself-just quietly taking in the sights and enjoying  her freedom.

The truck bounced along the road taking them further from the village.  For once Bundy seemed intent on picking up the speed. Ana kept her focus  on the vast landscape, enjoying the slight wind cooling her burning  skin. It was a converted old army truck. The tarpaulin roof was  invariably pulled right back so they could see all around, and be slow  cooked in the sun. Only it was no slow cooker today-she felt as if she  were being grilled on high.

The bang was loud. She lurched forward, bumped her head on the seat in  front of her and in the same instant was thrown back into her seat.

'Ow.' It was the shock more than anything that made her cry out.

Swearing voices seemed to surround her. Loud and lots. Bundy in the cab  hollered up an apology and an explanation. A blown tyre. She kept her  eyes closed, feeling sick at the way her brain still rattled back and  forth against her skull.

Fingers gripped her shoulder. Skin touched skin. She was compelled to  turn. The sizzle kick-started her heart and she squeezed her eyes  tighter together. Not wanting to acknowledge what he made her feel.

'Ana, are you OK?'

She said nothing.

'Ana?' His fingers moved, stroking her shoulder, her arm. Every spot he  touched burned. It was a wonder the smoke wasn't curling up between them  as he kindled her senses.

She opened her eyes. Looked straight into the face that was so familiar  yet was so different. Leaner, somehow more taut. He was looking right  back at her-too close; their gaze locked. Instantly the voices of the  others were muted. She heard nothing but the growing rush in her ears.  It had been so very long. So long since her toes had curled in  instinctive delight, so long since she'd felt that restlessness inside.

Her brain was thickening, but her blood thinning-zinging with mercurial  fluidity around her body. She was melting, her core defrosting as  yearning rose-for the passion that once made her mindless. His passion.

Her lips parted but no sound emerged. Mesmerised, she watched the lights  shift in his eyes. The pale blue sharpened-reflected the shock. Then  his pupils swelled, the darkness swallowing the ice. She could see the  tension as the tiny muscles worked, narrowing his gaze just that little  bit.

Her own eyes were fixed wide-she couldn't blink, couldn't breathe.

After an age his attention dropped. She could feel his focus. Could read his mind and for just one moment she wanted it.

A kiss.

She jerked, pulling away from him. Concussion. Had to be. That could be the only explanation for that random moment of lunacy.

His hand fell and she heard him mutter the word she'd once ached to hear.

'Sorry.'

So was she. Sorry he'd just walked back into her life. Even sorrier that her body seemed determined to celebrate the fact.