She turned back up the beach. Sebastian was already involved in his usual displacement activity-had rallied the lads for a game on the large expanse of sand that spread ahead of the littlest of dunes that sloped down to meet the water.
It was truck-tour passengers versus locals. Ana sat in one of the old deckchairs in the shade and watched for a while. Until her thrumming body could no longer keep still. She stared at the net strung between a tree and a pole. Beach volleyball. Now there was a way of burning some of her energy-she couldn't watch him play a moment longer, not when he was running barefoot, bare-chested, clad only in shorts, his bronzed body gleaming in the hot sun.
She picked up a volleyball from behind the bar and went to the net, called to him as she went past the makeshift footy pitch. Instantly he walked from that game and came to her.
He looked at the net. 'You want to play?'
Legs apart, she twirled the ball in her hands and grinned. 'I should warn you-I'm quite good.'
'I play to win, Ana.' He met her challenge and then raised it. 'The question is, what are we playing for?'
She inhaled through parted lips. 'Not that.'At least, not yet.
'Then what?' His smile said it all.
'Well, it doesn't really matter because I'm going to beat you.' Ana pulled her tee shirt over her head, remaining only in bikini top and short shorts, relishing the freedom from the bulky cotton, amused by Seb's change in expression-from teasing to burning. Two could play at the distraction game.
She went under the net to the other side and served the ball over. His concentration was immediate-as was hers. Annoyingly they were evenly matched-was there no sport he couldn't master? But the exertion of running to prevent the ball from landing on her side didn't exhaust the pent-up energy in her body. Indeed her aggression manifested as their duel progressed. Frustration grew-and he became her target. She no longer aimed to get the ball on his ground; she wanted it on his head-hard. She wanted to provoke-to see if the pirate still lurked beneath the surface. She walloped the ball over the net with a strong spike. Her height had made volleyball a natural choice at school. She'd tried basketball but hadn't liked the up-close confrontation and contact-having the net between her and her opponent was better.
But now the net was in the way.
Seb was no longer smiling. The volleys became longer, more intense. Ana had no idea what the score was. She didn't just want to win. She wanted to conquer.
There was some noise as another carload of people arrived and Seb turned his head to watch just as Ana was readying to serve the ball. She took advantage of his inattention and hit it over-hard.
The ball landed with a satisfyingly loud smack on his chest. He took a step back and swore.
Ana couldn't help the giggle.
But half a second later he was under the net and running for her.
'Volleyball's a non-contact sport,' she shrieked. Instinct told her to run but the last word was knocked out of her along with all her breath as he tackled. He went in low, his shoulder hard in her stomach; she crumpled. He tossed her straight up and over in the classic fireman's lift and kept running.
His arm was a hard band around her thighs and it wasn't comfortable as she bumped on his shoulder. 'You need to cool down.'
Within seconds he was splashing through the waves, tumbling her in. She went under. His arm slipped from her and she twisted, swimming underwater, stretching out her tension. The warm water washed the fight from her, seducing her with its deep blue saltiness. She opened her eyes and followed the way the light refracted, drawing lines on the golden sand beneath. She swam along their path for a while, deeper into the ocean. Until her lungs screamed for air and she could no longer deny the way the rest of her ached.
She pulled her feet under her and stood, looked around for him.
He suddenly surfaced alongside her. Tall, fast, all muscle, all attention. They stood waist deep and stared at each other.
His body gleamed as the droplets sheeted from his golden skin. His muscles were bunched from the exercise. His jaw was shadowed by the light stubble, even more chiselled by the way he was gritting his teeth. And while his eyes were hooded, his pupils were huge.
And she knew. As crazy as it was there was no longer a choice, no reason to fight it. She knew what she wanted. She took a step towards him. And then another.
He stood. Watching, not moving-except for his chest, which rose and fell fast. She heard him panting-more breathless than when he played football for hours in the midday heat. But he said nothing.
She took another two steps, until only an inch or so separated them. As she relentlessly searched his expression his gaze dropped as if he didn't want to see what it was she was thinking. She leant closer still. So she could feel his breath on her cheek, his heated body only a millimetre away. She dropped her head so her mouth hovered above his skin.
'Doing this again is a bad idea,' he muttered.
'A very bad idea,' she agreed, moving so her words were muffled against his shoulder. His salt was delicious, and so was his tiny groan. And her mouth parted wider, hungry for more.
'Crazy.' His lips brushed her forehead as he spoke.
'Stupid.' Her tongue touched his collarbone, tracing the ridge.
His breath gusted out. 'Foolish.'
His head rested on hers for a moment; she nudged closer.
'Mad.' She lifted her hands, placing them, oh, so carefully on his chest, felt his heart thundering.
'Absolutely insane.' He dropped the whisper into her ear.
She closed her eyes, angled her head to let him nuzzle the side of her neck. 'Irresistible,' she breathed. 'Inevitable.'
He froze. So did she. It was the moment. The decision would be made.
Had been made.
'Inevitable.' He lifted his head, looked right into her eyes. 'Are you sure?'
'Is there a choice?' she asked.
His hands lifted, his fingers sliding into her hair, holding her face up to his. 'There's always a choice.'
She tipped her head back further into his hold, deliberately letting her breasts press into his chest, her mouth part under his gaze. 'Just once.'
'For old times' sake?'
She shook her head slightly. 'I'm not the person I was back then.'
'Nor am I,' he answered, sounding so serious, yet he seemed to be devouring her features. 'So it's a one-night stand?'
It would be fitting. 'That's all it ever should have been.'
He nodded. 'Our getting married was a mistake.'
'Huge.'
'It's not something I ever meant to do. I can't offer anything more than-'
'You're a good-time guy. I understand,' she interrupted.
'That's all I want.'
'But last time-'
'I was naïve. I mistook lust for love. I have it straight now.'
Still he hesitated.
Last time he had driven everything. And now he was holding back-despite the effort she could feel it was costing him. But his rigidity, his restraint only made her want him more. It was her turn to push it now. 'I just want you, Seb. As a lover. For one night. Nothing more.'
One night to indulge-and to expunge-the attraction. Maybe then she would be utterly free to move on. And now she didn't want to think-just wanted to feel.
He looked at her, eyes lingering on her lips. Lips that she licked-not to deliberately provoke or manipulate his response, but because they were so dry, felt so swollen with her fast-beating blood. He slid one hand round her waist, kept the other in her hair and pulled her closer against him.
She closed her eyes against the brilliance of the blue sky, the blue water.
And then she felt it-his lips on hers. Warm, salty and yet so sweet. She felt his body leap harder and the passion that had simmered for so long boiled over.
They kissed, broke apart, kissed again. His fingers threaded more tightly in her hair, tilting her so he could kiss her jaw. She arched further, encouraging him to kiss down her neck. Moaned at the delight of the hot, fast caresses and the urgency with which he curved his hand around her bottom.
'Ana.'
She liquefied just with the way he muttered her name.
'Inside,' she breathed. 'I want … inside.' She wanted to be inside the hut; she wanted him inside.
Hands clinging to skin, they walked up the sand, went to their banda. Seb pulled the door closed behind them and secured the simple latch.
It was cooler inside, dim and suddenly silent.
He moved ahead, picked up his sleeping bag. The whirring was loud as he unzipped it. Then he tossed it wide so it floated open onto the sand creating a place for them to lie together.
'Do you have contraception?' Her voice was a mere thread.
He turned, speared her with an unflinching gaze. 'Yes.'
Of course he did. She blinked, refused to mind that he'd brought it. That he was always prepared. Instead she was glad-because now she had double the protection. Pregnancy was never happening to her again. But with her on the Pill and him with a condom, she would stay safe.