Best Of Makeovers Bundle Part 57

"You know, I haven't been on a holiday for years," he said, relaxing back into his chair.

"Really. I would have thought that you and your wife...?" Anna asked before she could stop herself.

He looked out at the ocean. "No. Tara and I put a lot of things off to build up the business," he said. "It seemed important at the time."

It was the first time he'd ever said her name. Tara. Anna was both angry with the woman on Marc's behalf, and grateful to her for being stupid enough to throw him away. Otherwise, where would Anna be?

"I grew up pretty poor," Marc explained, obviously seeing the questions in her eyes. "My father...well, he wasn't around a lot. He fancied himself as a bit of a musician, but mostly he drifted with the harvest seasons, picking his way around Australia."

"So that's why your mom was always working?" she asked, remembering what he'd said that first night together at his place.

"Yeah. He hardly ever sent money. He was a s.h.i.+t, actually. There were other women. And he gambled...." Marc shrugged, his face hardening at the memory.

"I bet your mom is proud of you," she said, wanting to ease the haunted look from his eyes.

"Yeah. She's got a place up on the coast. She likes the warmer weather," he said, smiling fondly. "She hasn't had to work for a while now." He said it with a quiet pride-not bragging, just owning his achievements.

"My mother died when I was thirteen," Anna said. She almost put her hands up to cover her mouth-she hadn't intended to say that, not at all.

Marc's hand found hers. "That must have been hard, Anna. I'm sorry."

She shrugged a shoulder, but she realized she wanted to tell him.

So stupid, a little voice said inside her. So dangerous. But she ignored it.

"She had breast cancer. She lost both her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, but it was too late. She died at home, and we all looked after her. But mostly it was me-Danny was too small, and Dad was just so cut up...." She realized she'd misted up.

"You must have been a tough little kid," he said.

"Not as tough as you, I bet," she said, desperate to lighten the mood.

He reached out and rubbed a thumb across her cheek. "Let's go back to the room," he said.

She nodded, and he broke contact to signal for the bill.

They walked through the soft, dry sand down toward the water, and Marc rolled his trouser legs up so they could wade their way back to the stretch of beach in front of the hotel. Not talking, they slowly made their way back onto the hotel grounds, back to their villa.

She let Marc lead her outside to their private pool courtyard, and she let him undress her, his touch gentle, almost reverent as he slid her dress from her body. She watched as he undressed, and then he drew her into the water. It was pleasantly tepid against her naked skin, and she felt the silky slide of it as it embraced all of her.

He pulled her close, buoyancy sending her bobbing against him, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. They kissed. Deep, soul-searing kisses.

"You're so beautiful," he said as he looked down into her face.

She felt beautiful, too. Beautiful and desirable and so in love that it hurt.

He moved toward the shallow steps behind them until her back was resting against the smooth tiled surface. He ducked his head and suckled on her nipples, and she threw her head back and felt the sharp tug of desire between her thighs. She could feel his hardness pressing against her belly already, and she s.h.i.+fted minutely so that he could slide into her.

He moved inside her, the sensation exquisite. She watched his face intently, loving the heat and pa.s.sion in it. Then he stilled, a frown forming.

"We shouldn't," he said, and she knew he was talking about protection.

"It's okay," she a.s.sured him as he began to withdraw. "I know my cycle. We're safe."

He hesitated still, and she tightened herself around him. He groaned, and then he was moving inside her again, long, slow, voluptuous slides, the water lapping at their bodies, their soft sighs echoing across the water. His hands came up to cup her face, and his gaze was dark and intent as he stared down into her eyes.

"Anna," he said, and she knew it was impossible for him not to see that she loved him. But she wouldn't ruin it, she couldn't. So she stared back, her heart in her eyes, trying to deny the intensity and sincerity in his gaze even as she reveled in it. They came together, gazes locked, truths revealed.

As soon as her pa.s.sion ebbed, Anna felt the reality of her situation creeping in. Keeping her face carefully neutral, she feigned a s.h.i.+ver and slid from his embrace.

"I'll get you a towel," he said, and she admired the grace of his body as he rose from the water. He was magnificent, with long, clean, muscular limbs, a flat belly and broad, strong shoulders. He strode into the house, careless of leaving a wet trail, the arrogance of a successful man in every step. He came back in his robe, with hers in hand, and she stepped from the water into its enveloping embrace. She smiled faintly at him, afraid that if she didn't find some way to protect herself, she'd be crying all over him in about thirty seconds flat.

"I'm going to go up to bed," she muttered as he tied the cord on her gown snugly.

"Sure," he said, and she realized with dismay that he was going to come with her.

Still wrapped in the gown, she slid into bed, and she felt the mattress dip as he got in beside her. Instinctively she curled away from him, even though she knew it would invite his embrace. A form of self-torture, she thought as his body pressed against hers, his arm coming possessively around her and his mouth finding the nape of her neck.

She squeezed her eyes shut tight, rocked with emotion. Sliding her hand over his arm, she held him tightly, fiercely. She loved him. And this was the most she could ever have of him. A tear slid down her nose and onto her pillow, and she bit her lip. She would not, could not expose herself to him like this.

After a brief battle with herself, she regained control of her emotions. She could hear his breathing deepening behind her, and she smiled stupidly to herself. He could sleep through anything. G.o.d, she loved him.

Which was going to make it very hard to do what she had to do.

HE WASN'T IN THE BED when she woke the next morning, and she sighed with relief. She needed some time to get her head together, come up with a game plan.

Remembering the intent, gentle look in his eyes last night, Anna dug her nails into her palms. Because she couldn't deny it any longer, even just to herself. He had made love to her last night. It hadn't been just s.e.x, the simple slaking of a need. It had been two people wors.h.i.+pping each other with their bodies. Beautiful and perfect.

They cared for one another. If Marc didn't love her, he was well on the way.

And she had nothing to offer him.

That was the horrible, honest truth she'd been hiding from herself. It was why she'd been so intent on not getting involved, why the very thought of falling in love, of committing to a relations.h.i.+p made bile burn in her throat.

Of its own accord, her hand found the discreet scar beneath her breast.

She was thirty-two years old. Her mother had died at thirty-five.

She felt as though she was staring into the deepest, darkest abyss in all the world as she faced her oldest fear head-on. She didn't want to die. Not the way her mother had. But, more than anything, she didn't want to hurt Marc. There was no guarantee that her cancer wouldn't come back. It was the knowledge that had been driving her for months now, pus.h.i.+ng her to change her job, to find the fun in life, to live more, to experience things. She was living on borrowed time, and she had to make the most of it.

She could hear Marc moving around downstairs. She wanted nothing more than to run down into his arms and pour out all her hopes and fears. To ask him to rea.s.sure her, to promise that things would be okay. But he couldn't promise her that, and she had no right to even ask him to. This was her battle. The kindest, most generous thing she could do was extract him from the equation before their feelings deepened further.

She could still remember the heart-wrenching sound of her father sobbing at her mother's funeral. A part of him had died when she did, and Anna would never knowingly put another human being through that pain and loss. Not when she loved him, and she could prevent it by being cruel to be kind now.

Resolve hardened her jaw. She threw back the covers and strode into the bathroom. Ten minutes later, she'd made a phone call and was dressed in swimsuit and shorts and padding down the stairs.

He was lying by the pool, a newspaper crumpled on his chest. A half-eaten croissant was testament to the fact that he'd already raided the temptations of the breakfast buffet. He opened an eye as she approached.

He looked absolutely gorgeous, relaxed and fit and s.e.xy. Her stomach clenched, and she forced a smile.

"Right, what are your plans for the day?" she asked him brightly.

He frowned. "Same as usual. Did you have something else in mind?"

She shrugged, digging her hands into the back pockets of her shorts so she wouldn't grab him and hang on for dear life.

"I'm going parasailing," she said. "Then there's a guy who teaches introductory scuba and takes you out to a nearby coral reef."

"Right. That all sounds very...energetic," he said.

"And tomorrow I was thinking of maybe doing a bungee jump. There's a brochure for a tour operator who takes you up north, and you jump off a bridge."

"Bungee. Right." Marc folded the newspaper and swung his legs over the side of the sun lounge so that he was sitting upright. "What's going on, Anna?"

"Nothing. I'd just planned on doing this stuff, and time's getting away from us.... So..."

He eyed her steadily.

"Is this because of last night?" he asked directly.

She kept her tone light, her eyes veiled. "Of course not. Last night was amazing. You can do me in the pool any time," she said breezily. "I just want to have some fun, that's all."

His eyes narrowed, and he was silent for a long moment. Finally he stood. "Fine, let's go then."

She stared at him in dismay. "I thought you'd probably just want to hang here, relax," she said.

"You thought wrong," he said.

She could see he wouldn't be moved. And even while it wasn't quite what she'd planned, it was better than sitting around staring into each other's eyes. She had to keep him at a distance. Start putting back the barriers between them. For his sake and hers.

WATCHING ANNA GET strapped into the bungee harness, Marc felt a large, fierce hand clutch his heart and squeeze hard. His gaze shot to the platform where another tourist with a death wish was stepping tremulously to the edge. With a smothered howl, the young guy leaped off, and Marc watched him plunge fifty meters toward the ground before the bungee cord halted his fall.

He turned back to Anna, determined. "This is stupid. Don't do it," he said.

She frowned, shook her head. "It'll be fine. They've been doing this for years."

"Anna, one of the guys at the hotel said a woman ruptured her bowel doing this last year."

She just shrugged. "I'll be fine."

He regarded her broodingly. She'd been like this since yesterday morning. On the surface she was the same old Anna, but something vital had been withdrawn from public display. She'd thrown herself into the scuba and parasailing, insisting on doing the most extreme version of each activity, pus.h.i.+ng their guides to made it faster, harder, scarier.

In bed, she was intense, driven, wild-incredibly s.e.xually satisfying, but the woman he'd made love to in the villa's private pool was AWOL. And he wanted her back.

"I don't understand why you're doing this," he said, angry now.

"It's on my list," she said. "I want to do it."

"What list? What are you talking about?" But she just shook her head again. The guide was preparing to lead her toward the jump-off point, and Marc grabbed her arm.

"Anna-please, don't do it. For me?"

She stared at him a moment, and he saw something dark and scared in her eyes. Then she seemed to shake it off.

"Relax. I'll be fine," she said.

He set his jaw as she shuffled toward the jump-off point, furious with her and himself for letting this happen.

She glanced across at him once before she moved to the very edge of the platform, offering him a thumbs-up. That was supposed to rea.s.sure him, he a.s.sumed. He turned his back deliberately, but he couldn't not watch.

Knuckles white as he gripped the bal.u.s.trade of the viewing area, Marc felt his heart stop as she leaped out into s.p.a.ce.

"Jesus," he hissed under his breath as she plunged down into the ravine.

If ever he'd needed a revelatory moment, this was it. He loved Anna. Yes, he was a mess, but he'd been half in love with her for weeks and just because he hadn't said it out loud to her didn't make it any less true. He should have said it that night in the pool. The words had been in his mind. But the shadow of Tara's infidelity and the failure of his marriage still hung over him. You never asked why, Marc. He needed to know why his marriage had died. He needed to understand before he could offer a future to Anna. But he should have said something. She deserved it. He'd wasted enough time. He made a silent promise to himself that the second he was alone with her he'd tell her how he felt.

His gut clenched with fear as she neared the bottom of the drop, and his gaze switched to the bungee cord. If it should fail...But she was already bouncing back up, her cry of triumph and exhilaration bouncing off the canyon walls. His pulse settled, and he realized she was safe. Just a matter of waiting for her to be winched back up now.

She was rosy-cheeked and starry-eyed with excitement when she was released from the safety harness. She bounded to him and threw her arms around his neck, kissing him pa.s.sionately.

"That was the most amazing b.l.o.o.d.y thing in the world!" she said, then she started dragging him away.

He followed her willingly, unsure of what they were doing until she dragged him off the path back to the car park and into the jungle.

"Anna," he said. "Where are you going?"

She tugged on his hand, pulling him farther into the dense foliage.

"I want to do it, here, right now," she said as they stepped into a clearing.

"What...?" Marc asked even as she ripped her top over her head, her b.r.e.a.s.t.s jiggling as she tugged off her bra.

"I want you to screw me. Now," she said, reaching for his belt buckle.

For a second he allowed his desire to guide him, his erection already growing in his boxers, but there was a frantic desperation to Anna and he sensed that something was very wrong.

"Anna, stop," he said as she grappled with the closure on his pants.

She shot him a frustrated look and reached inside his boxers to grab his erection. Determined to get to the bottom of this, he stepped backward and grabbed her hands.

"No. Not until you talk to me."

She froze. "I don't want to talk," she said.

"Tough. You've been running around like a teenager with a death wish for the past two days. I want to know what's going on."

She flushed, then went very pale. Then her chin came up. "I'm having fun. That's what this is supposed to be about, isn't it? This holiday, us? Fun?"

She reached for his crotch again, but again he stilled her.