He stood, unable to keep from moving a moment longer. He couldn't think any more. Couldn't do anything but bow to instinct. He knelt on the bed, leaned over her, pressing her back against the pillows so she was in no doubt of his need.
And her hands lifted, fingers wide as she put her palms to his scalp and pulled him closer still. Her mouth opened beneath his and she kissed him with the same sort of desperation he was drowning in.
And for a moment, just a moment, he was sorry she hadn't asked for more.
This was it, wasn't it-the searing attraction, the need for that deep indulgence? Despite everything it was still at the centre of it all. Nothing less, nothing more.
Ana's breath took for ever to regulate, and only moments after it had, she shifted in his arms, woke him, roused him again. Determined this time, to get it right and see it to the end. Because at the back of her mind the clock was ticking-Africa was all they had. When they said goodbye to the heat, they said goodbye to each other.
And she knew she had the strength to do that. This past year had shown her she had the strength to handle anything-even him.
She was glad he knew. Had never thought she'd feel that, but his sensitivity had surprised her. She'd appreciated the comfort of his arms as she'd cried. And she'd seen the hurt in him too-somehow that had helped soothe her own. She wasn't alone in her sadness for the baby any more-he felt it; he understood something of it. And that was enough to make it that little bit more bearable.
They spent the day swimming, sleeping. Not talking of anything but commonplaces, playing bao, keeping it light. And yet they turned to each other even more frequently than before. The passion fast, hungry and still never enough.
The tiny island was exquisite and offered every comfort, yet with the luxury came other facilities-phone, fax, email. In the late afternoon she watched him take his PDA over to the office. Yes. Real life was going to have to intrude-they couldn't avoid the future for ever. She went to their banda, giving him the space to get his messages in private. She didn't want to know, didn't want to become involved in his life back in London. The separation was looming and it was best to start distancing now. But when he walked in twenty minutes later his expression was too grim for her to ignore. 'Bad news?'
He pressed a button and tossed the gadget onto the table by the bed. 'Dad reckons he's getting married again.'
'No way. Who to?' Ana gaped.
'What with Mum going for the fourth last year, they're just a joke.' He flopped back on the bed and pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. 'I can't believe it. And it's happening Saturday. This Saturday.' He groaned. 'So soon-why the hell is he in such a rush?'
The giggle just bubbled from her. 'Like father, like son, I guess.'
'What?' He lifted his head up and then grinned-sort of. 'Oh, yeah. But that's not – '
'Yeah.' Not real. She watched him clearly struggle with the news. 'Does it really matter, Seb?'
'I can understand them having lovers-fine,' he said, throwing his arms wide on the bed. 'Have as many as they want. But what's with all the weddings?'
'You don't think it's kind of romantic?'
'No. It's desperate.'
'Seb-'
'Look, you haven't been ring-bearer too many times over.' He sat up. 'It's tacky.'
'So it's all frills and fifty bridesmaids?'
'Ugh,' he groaned again, but eventually it turned into a laugh. 'Depends. No two are ever the same.'
'Have you met this bride?'
'Briefly.' He shook his head. 'I didn't think it was serious. But I guess he was one behind Mum on the wedding count so he had to catchup.'
'You're kidding.'
'No. Allocation of assets, experiences-they've got to make sure they have exactly the same.'
'But there was only one of you. How did they go about sharing you?'
He looked at her, shrugged in a helpless, resigned kind of way. And instead of answering, he asked, 'Ana … ?'
She knew what he wanted. And she gave it.
When she woke late the next morning she found he was already dressed and looking distant.
'You'd better pack your bag, Ana. We're leaving at lunchtime.'
So that explained why he'd barely let her rest through the night. Why he'd woken her time and time again with his incredible caresses. The hour had chimed.
Mentally, he'd already left, his mind miles away as he stared out over the water-clearly not seeing the beauty of it, judging by the size of the frown on his face. Was his problem still his father? She didn't ask; Africa was at an end and she needed to withdraw, too-to handle it with maturity. It was the contract they'd agreed.
Ten minutes later she stood on the deck and watched him swimming, tireless strong strokes as he went back and forth parallel to the beach. She was fascinated.
And then she cursed her idiocy. She wasn't going to stand all morning staring at him. So she went to the main complex, quite determined to find something to do to fill in the few hours till they left. She found the perfect distraction in the beauty spa.
'Where have you been?' He looked grumpy as she strode to where he waited by the boat, the bags already stowed.
'I went for a massage.'
'I'd have given you one.'
She shook her head and laughed. 'You know we're over that.'
He met her gaze for a moment and then looked away. She stood on the boat, smiled and waved to Hamim and then turned her back to the island. Determined to look ahead-in everything.
Only hours later Seb led the way onto the big plane. Ana had never flown first class before and looked around at the amazing space.
'We could have gone another class up.' He watched her investigate all the things in the toiletry bag.
'There's another class?'
'Beyond first class we could have had our own suite.' He looked wistful. 'Big bed and everything. But it was booked.'
Thank goodness for that. She'd already mentally resigned herself to the fact she'd slept with him for the last time. And after what she'd let the beautician on Mnemba do this morning, there was no way she wanted him to see her even partially naked. It had been a good method of restraint.
He read her expression with grim humour. 'You don't want to join the mile-high club with me?'
'Not today.' It wasn't even a lie. Then she saw his surprise turn to determination. Felt his shift towards her as the atmosphere between them thickened to intimate. 'No, Seb, we've left Africa.'
'We're still in its airspace, aren't we?'
'No.' They were over it and she was not, not, succumbing again.
Their luggage was the first on the carousel-one of the perks of spending ridiculous amounts of money on seats that became surprisingly comfortable beds. Not that he'd slept a wink of the flight. She pre-empted his move to take her bag, swinging it nonchalantly onto a trolley. He felt super grumpy now.
She turned to him 'Thanks-'
'I've ordered a cab.' He cut her off. 'It should be there by now.'
'Um … I'll be OK-'
'For heaven's sake, Ana, at least let me see you safely to your place.'
They walked to the rank and he climbed into the cab after her. 'You're staying with Phil?' he asked shortly.
'Yes.'
A flare of jealousy spiked into Seb's chest. Stupid. He wasn't surprised Phil hadn't said she'd been staying with him. His loyalty was greater to Ana than to him. But it annoyed him nonetheless. If Phil had been honest he might have got to Ana before she'd gone to Africa. Hell, how long had she been staying there?
Added to that, the thought of those two guys sitting either side of her on the sofa drinking their soy decaff lattes or whatever namby-pampy juice was flavour of the month, listening to her pour heart and soul out to them, got his hackles on end. She'd talk to them as she didn't to him. God, had Phil known about the baby-his baby?
The cab pulled in front of Phil's building. It wasn't far from Seb's home. But it was far enough to bother him. 'I'll help you with your bag.'
She raised a single brow. It was only the one pack but he was delaying the inevitable.
She rang the bell. 'I have a key if they're not home.'
Of course she did. But they were home. The footsteps came faster; Seb glared up at the security camera.
'Ana!'
It was Jack-Phil's partner. The most conservative-as-they-come accountant you'd ever meet in your life. Older than Phil by a good ten years, he was the anchor to the flamboyant interior-design genius who'd just appeared in the doorway behind him.
'Darling.' Phil pushed past Jack and hauled Ana into his arms. 'I was beginning to think you'd been eaten by a crocodile.'
'Something like that.' Ana's tone was caustic.
'Seb.' Phil's eyes glinted as he tilted his head to see who was behind her. 'The crocodile, I presume,' he added, closing the door behind them.
Ana turned, looked surprised to see Seb still standing there. 'What about the cab?'
'It can wait. The meter's still running.' He wasn't ready to leave yet.