I snapped out of my daydream as I heard voices downstairs on the patio. It was very rare for my parents to entertain at breakfast; I wondered who it was. As soon as I stepped through the patio doors, I didn’t have to wonder anymore at all.
Holy Hell! My heart stopped in my throat at the sight of Max Brunetti. He was sitting with my parents having breakfast! This man just oozed sex appeal; he was a work of masculine art. I quickly reached for my sarong to cover my bikini-clad body. Shit, my sarong – Oh, God, I left it upstairs!
“Jada.” My father interrupted my distressed state. He and my mother were smiling up at me as I made my way toward the both of them, nervously wrapping the medium-sized, white pool towel around my bottom half.
“Come and join us, darling; you’re just in time for breakfast. And look, Max has popped in this morning, so we asked him to join us.”
Great. Just great.
My heart started to pound a thousand beats a minute as it always did when I was anywhere near Max. Now, I had to sit here in front of the guy I’d lusted after from the age of around ten, wearing hardly any clothes, and eat freaking breakfast!
“Ms. Sinclair,” he whispered, standing from his chair and moving toward me before I even got the chance to speak. He reached for my hand, bringing it to his lips. The minute his lips touched my wrist, I just melted. It was like pins and needles travelling ever so slowly up my arms to the pit of my stomach, and my whole body was electrified.
Oh. My. God.
I clenched my thighs together at the heat starting to pool between them. Why did he always have this effect on me? I was literally behaving like the young schoolgirl I used to be. All those feelings of desire, lust, love and a hunger that was still so strong, was all coming back to haunt me and play with my mind. Honestly, I thought I was over this guy. It had been eight years; eight years, and I’d never returned home, driven by my modelling career to try to forget and avoid this man at all costs. The aura he possessed alone was just breathtaking. I needed to get a grip!
How many times as a teenager had I dreamed of Max Brunetti touching and kissing me? God, he wouldn’t even look at me back then, yet now he kissed the inside of my wrist so delicately I had goose bumps all the way up my arm. It was boiling hot, and I got goose bumps. Yeah, only I could get the shivers in the middle of summer!
“Cold, are we?” Max asks.
Crap. He noticed.
My only response was “Morning.” How pathetic am I? This man made me so nervous and worst of all, he could see it.
“You are up early, Jada, considering the late night you had,” my father said, smiling at me affectionately. God, I missed my parents.
“Oh, Daddy, you are so sweet,” I said. “I don’t need much sleep anymore, not like I did when I was working the runways,” I delivered confidently, looking at Max from the corner of my eye. I could see he was smirking.
“So, what brings you here, Max?” I asked, staring him down.
***
MAX
I cocked my head and grinned down at her, ogling that scantily clad, bikini body of hers. And God, what a body it was. Perfect.
“You settled in all right?” I asked her.
The minute I saw her step outside, my heart sped up a beat and my gaze never left hers. There was no denying she was the most beautiful thing I’d ever seen; even as a teenager, she was a hot piece of ass. There was something about Jada Sinclair that always got me hard the instant my eyes met hers. She just drew me in with her beauty. I found myself gripping my double-shot espresso cup tightly to keep myself from reaching out and touching her hair where it had fallen loose from the ponytail.
She wet her lips nervously and shrugged, “Yes, I am actually. Just a lot of unpacking to do; that’s all. Thanks.”
I paused for a long time, taking in her beauty until I blinked and cleared my throat.
“So, what brings you back to the Barossa, Ms. Sinclair?” I probed. Taking a step back and drawing a deep breath, I sat back down to finish my coffee with her parents. I didn’t miss the half-moon imprints on her palms from where her nails were digging into her hand.
Why was she so nervous?
I knew she had been infatuated with me from when she used to hang around with my sister Mia. Surely, she was over that teenage crush by now, wasn’t she? Maybe I needed to test those waters a little.
Her mother, Janet, answered for her instead.
“Jada is taking a break from her modelling career, Max, and we are so happy she has come back home; she can help us out with the winery. And now that she’s home, it will give her the opportunity to spend more time with Milan and Mia,” she babbled.
“Is that right?” I whispered, continually staring at her. She was adorable, sitting there jittery as hell, trying to hide that delectable body with that miniscule towel.