Although his fingers seemed large against her skin he was moving very, very gently. She wondered for a moment what those fingers would feel like stroking something else. Somewhere else. Somewhere hotter and wetter. She drew her lip in and bit it. Edward’s fingers stopped moving and he watched her mouth. Then his eyes slid to hers.
‘Am I hurting you?’
Although she’d thought it impossible, his voice had become even lower. And even sexier. She wanted to touch him. But she couldn’t. He definitely wouldn’t like that.
‘No, what you’re doing is perfect.’
A little half-smile spread over his lips and she felt herself drowning in those dark chocolate eyes again.
‘Then relax and enjoy it.’
She heard his words, let them wash over her and did as she was told. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his fingers as they spread across her forehead and over her eyelids. Down her cheek and over her chin, then lower. Along her neck to her collarbones, where he paused and withdrew his hand. She gasped, but then he was back with more cream. He spread it across her collarbones and further down. She arched into his hand and he rubbed gently on her chest. She felt as if she would burst with anticipation. Then he stopped.
Her eyes flew open. He was screwing the lid on, his eyes off her. ‘There—is that better?’
She couldn’t speak. His handsome profile rendered her mute. She just nodded and his eyes turned to hers. He watched her for a second and she felt herself grow warm under his gaze. She lay still, watching him watch her. Then he leaned forward and she held her breath. He was going to kiss her. The most handsome, beautiful man in the world was going to kiss her. Her! But his lips touched her forehead instead.
‘Sleep,’ he said quietly, before pulling a bottle of water from her Mary Poppins-esque make-up bag. ‘Drink some water. I’ll see you in the morning.’
He stood to leave. She didn’t want him to go. She wanted him to stay and touch her some more.
‘Eddie?’
He turned and looked at her. So beautiful. So kind.
‘You’re not awful. You’re nice.’
He smiled widely enough that she could see his perfect white teeth.
‘Sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’
She closed her eyes and within seconds was asleep.
EIGHT
When Olivia woke up it felt as if she’d left her brain on the pillow. She put her hand to her head. It ached so much she thought she was having one of those brain aneurysm thingys. Then her brain caught up and told her about the dead rat in her mouth. She slapped her tongue on the top of her mouth, trying to wet it.
Opening her eyes slowly, she tried to remember where she was. The sun was streaming in through the gap between a set of pale flowery curtains. She was in a very big, very soft bed. Slowly, she looked around. She was in a bedroom. Teal-blue wallpaper printed with spring flowers surrounded the walls and near the door was a dark wooden dressing table. The mirror was facing her. Her hair was sticking up everywhere and there were black circles under her eyes. And she was naked. Except for her ludicrously small G-string. And she had no idea how she’d got here, where she was, or why she was naked.
An awful thought fell into her mind and she looked beside her. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. She was alone. Thank God.
Slowly and carefully she eased herself out of the bed. In the corner were her bags—all stacked up neatly. Next to the green lamp on the bedside table was a bottle of water and her face cream. She couldn’t have been too drunk if she’d managed to find her cream and think about water. She took a long slug of the water before getting up to move closer to the dressing table. Her make-up was all off. Except for the dark kohl eyeliner around her eyes, which was impossible to get off without the proper cleansers. She felt a little better. She must have been sober enough to remove her make-up.
Turning to her bags, she moved slowly, allowing her head to
‘Am I hurting you?’
Although she’d thought it impossible, his voice had become even lower. And even sexier. She wanted to touch him. But she couldn’t. He definitely wouldn’t like that.
‘No, what you’re doing is perfect.’
A little half-smile spread over his lips and she felt herself drowning in those dark chocolate eyes again.
‘Then relax and enjoy it.’
She heard his words, let them wash over her and did as she was told. She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of his fingers as they spread across her forehead and over her eyelids. Down her cheek and over her chin, then lower. Along her neck to her collarbones, where he paused and withdrew his hand. She gasped, but then he was back with more cream. He spread it across her collarbones and further down. She arched into his hand and he rubbed gently on her chest. She felt as if she would burst with anticipation. Then he stopped.
Her eyes flew open. He was screwing the lid on, his eyes off her. ‘There—is that better?’
She couldn’t speak. His handsome profile rendered her mute. She just nodded and his eyes turned to hers. He watched her for a second and she felt herself grow warm under his gaze. She lay still, watching him watch her. Then he leaned forward and she held her breath. He was going to kiss her. The most handsome, beautiful man in the world was going to kiss her. Her! But his lips touched her forehead instead.
‘Sleep,’ he said quietly, before pulling a bottle of water from her Mary Poppins-esque make-up bag. ‘Drink some water. I’ll see you in the morning.’
He stood to leave. She didn’t want him to go. She wanted him to stay and touch her some more.
‘Eddie?’
He turned and looked at her. So beautiful. So kind.
‘You’re not awful. You’re nice.’
He smiled widely enough that she could see his perfect white teeth.
‘Sleep. We’ll talk tomorrow.’
She closed her eyes and within seconds was asleep.
EIGHT
When Olivia woke up it felt as if she’d left her brain on the pillow. She put her hand to her head. It ached so much she thought she was having one of those brain aneurysm thingys. Then her brain caught up and told her about the dead rat in her mouth. She slapped her tongue on the top of her mouth, trying to wet it.
Opening her eyes slowly, she tried to remember where she was. The sun was streaming in through the gap between a set of pale flowery curtains. She was in a very big, very soft bed. Slowly, she looked around. She was in a bedroom. Teal-blue wallpaper printed with spring flowers surrounded the walls and near the door was a dark wooden dressing table. The mirror was facing her. Her hair was sticking up everywhere and there were black circles under her eyes. And she was naked. Except for her ludicrously small G-string. And she had no idea how she’d got here, where she was, or why she was naked.
An awful thought fell into her mind and she looked beside her. A heavy sigh escaped her lips. She was alone. Thank God.
Slowly and carefully she eased herself out of the bed. In the corner were her bags—all stacked up neatly. Next to the green lamp on the bedside table was a bottle of water and her face cream. She couldn’t have been too drunk if she’d managed to find her cream and think about water. She took a long slug of the water before getting up to move closer to the dressing table. Her make-up was all off. Except for the dark kohl eyeliner around her eyes, which was impossible to get off without the proper cleansers. She felt a little better. She must have been sober enough to remove her make-up.
Turning to her bags, she moved slowly, allowing her head to
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