'Yes.' Her pulse skipped a beat and she swivelled to face him. How did he know?
'I saw it on your bed when I left you in the shower. Hard to miss with the bright neon scrawl on the cover. Relax, Sophie, I didn't read it. I would never invade your privacy that way.'
'Okay.' She blew out a breath. Silence filled the tiny space between them and in those quiet heartbeats she trusted him with the truth. 'I used to have nightmares. My counsellor suggested it way back and it's become a routine.'
She felt the warmth of his understanding flow over her. 'Do you still have bad dreams?'
'Not so much now.' It occurred to her suddenly that she'd not made an entry since Saturday morning.
'Am I in there?' His voice turned playful.
She shoved at his arm. 'You know you are.'
'How many times?'
She grinned. 'Not telling.'
'What about fantasies, do you write them down too?'
'No. They're entirely different.'
'Tell me a fantasy.'
'I … can't.'
'Sure you can.'
'You'll laugh. Or think I'm awful.'
'I promise I won't do either.'
She snuggled nearer. 'I've always imagined making love in the open. Under the stars. I've never done it outside.'
'Never?'
She shook her head, then looked at him in the semi-darkness. 'You?'
The curve of his lips and the twinkle in his eyes pronounced him guilty but he didn't answer, just lifted her off the couch and carried her to his bed.
Jared's body clock woke him daily at precisely five-thirty a.m. no matter what time he'd gone to bed. Another of those predictable patterns that made up his life. He was also one of those people many either envied or hated for his ability to rise and shine the moment his eyes opened. He habitually swam for thirty minutes then breakfasted on oranges or pineapple, two eggs and strong black coffee.
But it had been a very long time since he'd woken with a woman lying beside him.
And that woman was currently dead to the world. And no wonder-he'd kept her awake most of the night. He'd not been able to get enough of her. Her sweet taste, her summer fragrance, her silken hair rippling over his body in black waves when she was on top. The moans she made when she came … and there'd been a few, he thought with a smile.
He wondered how long it had been since she'd been with a man.
She shifted in her sleep, a tiny smile touched the corner of her mouth as if she was dreaming. Of him and the things he'd done to her through the night, perhaps. The things they'd done to each other.
His erection hardened, throbbed, almost to the point of pain while he continued to watch her. But it was more than the physical. And that bothered him. Healthy lust was all well and good, but this … almost desperate need- Scratch that thought. Good grief, he was not desperate. But he'd never experienced anything quite like the way it was with Sophie. Alarming was what it was.
Sophie was moving on, and that was best for both of them. He reminded himself he went for outdoorsy girls-personal trainers rather than personal assistants.
And yet … He frowned, trying to make sense of it. They'd both agreed it was short term, so what the heck was the problem?
He needed space. Hardly daring to breathe, he backed off the bed and padded outside to where the pool's mirrored surface reflected the waning night.
Away from temptation. Better. He rubbed chilled arms then slid silently beneath the water. Cold water rushed past his ears as he torpedoed forward, feet and legs working economically. There was no problem, he assured himself as he broke the surface halfway down the pool's length.
Deliberately blanking his mind, he sliced through the water, concentrating on his body. The pull of his muscles, the drag of air into his lungs, the taste of chlorine on his lips. After some time, more relaxed and to keep himself that way, he mentally rehearsed the day ahead. They didn't have to be anywhere until their appointment at Brett Cameron's office.
Brett was refurbishing an apartment block in Noosa Heads overlooking the ocean. He'd used Jared's services for one of his resorts in nearby Mooloolaba. A man with a well-known business reputation and seemingly limitless funds.
But it wasn't only his reputation in business, his reputation with women was even more legendary. He was one of the wealthiest playboys this side of Brisbane.
And that was a problem.
Jared dragged himself to the edge of the pool and watched the eastern sky's pearl-grey dawn lighten. He and Sophie hadn't discussed exclusivity. Well, of course they hadn't. Why would they? A couple of weeks of fun, nothing to get serious or heavy about.
Brett Cameron wasn't Sophie's type, Jared assured himself. And how the hell would he know that? And even if he wasn't, every woman with a pulse was Cameron's type. Or so the rumours went.
Frowning, Jared padded to a tower of white shelves and helped himself to a towel, rubbed it over his head and face. Brett seemed a nice enough guy and Jared respected his business acumen, but where women were concerned … well, he was just glad he didn't have a daughter living in Noosa. A PA in Surfers Paradise was enough of a worry.
Deliberately, he shook it off and turned his thoughts to the present, swiping his body while he considered whether to let Sophie sleep or wake her. That feeling of desperation, of not being in control, washed through him once more.
No. He wasn't going to allow himself to be led down that path. Not by Sophie Buchanan, not by anyone. He tossed the towel over a lounger. After so many years of being there for his sisters, particularly Lissa, lust and good times were his due. He wasn't ready for anything more.
But … He paused on his way to the shower. He'd make something of the time they had left so that when they went their separate ways they'd both have something to remember.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
WAS that wonderful smell hot coffee? Sophie surfaced from sleep just enough to reach for Jared with her eyes still closed. To feel that hot male body next to her and make sure it wasn't a dream this time. But the sheets were cool and she realised she was alone. When she opened her eyes the sun was streaming through the window and sparkling on the surface of the pool outside.
She checked the time and bolted upright. Cripes, she'd slept in. They had a meeting in just over half an hour. Why had Jared not woken her? If she didn't know better she'd have thought he was deliberately leaving her behind, except she also knew he had a firm policy on not allowing pleasure to interfere with business. He'd expect his PA to be ready on time, no matter what her personal circumstances. Pam could attest to that. So was it some kind of test?
She scrambled out of bed and dragged the sheet around her like a toga since her clothes were in another bedroom and she was not going to wander the corridor naked. He was probably busy with last-minute details and just expected her to be ready … yikes … any minute now. Clutching the sheet, she made a dash to her room, grabbed her toiletries and flew into the shower.
Ten minutes later, a record by any woman's standards, she figured, dressed, minimum make-up, hair knotted severely beneath its clasp to mask its untamed nature since she'd not had time to wash it, she walked smartly into the kitchen area as if she weren't half an hour later than she ought to be.
She started to greet him, then stopped, suddenly self-conscious. What did you say to a new lover you'd had sex with all night long? A man who'd seen almost every inch of her body up close and personal. This was her second time at facing him after sex and she really needed to get used to it, but still, a flush rose up her neck. She was hardly an expert on such etiquette. Just call me Ms Naïvety.
He was sitting at a polished wooden table, the only furniture in the room that wasn't white, frowning over something on his laptop, but he looked up as she came to a stop by the coffee maker.
The residual heat she saw in his eyes was enough to light her fire all over again. But that was the only remnant of last night's passion and it flickered and died as he said, 'Good morning, Sophie.'
She thought of the impatient growl when he'd murmured her name against her breast last night. When he'd come deep inside her in the early hours. A contrast to this morning's briskly delivered greeting. And in the harsher, more demanding light of day it wasn't her lover she saw, but her boss. He was dressed for their upcoming appointments, his suit jacket on the sofa nearby. Freshly showered and shaved, he looked a picture of urban success and sophistication.
'Good morning.' She ran a finger inside the waistband of her slimline skirt and adjusted it, tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear and hoped she scrubbed up as well as he.