Playing It Close (7 page)

“Only if you’ll promise to join me.”

Anticipation pumped through Liam, the way it always did when he heard he’d been selected to play in a big match. Even after all these years of representing his country and playing in top teams, the thrill never lessened. Strange that the thought of stripping down with Tess had the same effect.

Tess’s hand lay on her thigh, limp and relaxed except for the thumb that beat out a soundless rhythm against her leg. Reaching out, Liam slid his hand under hers. The difference in size wasn’t too remarkable. She might look small compared to him, compared to the women he usually spent time with, but she was hardly tiny. Just...compact. But powerful. The muscles in her hands were surprisingly well developed. She’d said she played racquetball and cycled to work. It explained the strength he felt in her, the long, toned muscles of her thighs, which he’d struggled to avoid staring at too blatantly last night when she’d lounged in his hammock wearing shorts and a tank top with the straps of that damned ruffled pink bikini showing.

With his free hand, he stroked the thin skin covering her tendons. Soft. For some reason, he slipped his fingers between hers so they curled around her. Holding hands. Not something he often did. Most of his relationships were of the “I recognize you. Wanna fuck?” variety. Just a pleasant diversion, a way to blow off steam and—if he was honest—an invitation to a glitzy world that most rugby players never got to see. Film premieres. BAFTA after-parties. London Fashion Week piss-ups.

But it all got boring after a while. It’d got boring a while ago, but he’d been too slow to realize it.

Now he was in Venezuela, a country he’d never considered visiting before his sports psychologist had recommended an exotic eco-holiday away from his real life. And he met someone he’d never expected to. He’d found himself contemplating her secrets, wanting to ask her questions but holding back because he wasn’t ready to reveal his own. She would be leaving in a few days, but they both lived in London. Maybe this needn’t be a one-time thing. Maybe she wouldn’t mind too much when he confessed he wasn’t who he’d said he was.

Tess gave his hand a squeeze. “You okay?”

“Yeah. Course. Why?”

“I don’t know. I offered to strip down and you didn’t show much reaction.”

Didn’t show much reaction? He was holding her bloody hand. Somehow it seemed more intimate to him than anything else he could’ve done. What did she want—for him to growl like an animal and start licking her as Tony watched in the rearview mirror? But something in her eyes gripped him. Resignation? Nerves? As if there was even a chance he might reject her idea of them skinny-dipping together. Whatever it was, the vulnerability gutted him.

He laid her hand on his thigh and pulled her against his side. She slotted under his arm perfectly but held herself stiff. Leaning down, he nuzzled her ear and kept his voice quiet so Tony wouldn’t overhear. “I’d love to go skinny-dipping with you. It’s been plaguing me since you ran into the lift in your transparent shirt.”

She inched closer and whispered, “What has been?”

“The thought of you, naked and wet. I’ve tried not to dwell on it, but every time I close my eyes I see you splashing around, pushing your hair off your face as you stand under a waterfall. Diving into the water with not a stitch of clothing covering you.”

She tilted her head back so she could look him in the eyes. Her tongue touched her lips, and they moved as if she were testing out words she wasn’t sure she wanted to say. He helped her along by rubbing the pad of his thumb over them. She swallowed hard. “Is this another of those movies you’ve seen?”

“No, Tess. This is all inspired by you. No one else.”

Finally her body relaxed against him, and they leaned against each other for the rest of the drive.

* * *

The cloud forest lived up to its name. The first time she’d hiked along these trails, she’d felt like she was on the set of
Jurassic Park.
Ferns bigger than her lined the narrow dirt path, and ancient trees unlike any of their more cultivated cousins in England stretched overhead, forming a canopy to block out all but a few rays of sun. Mist swirled around their feet. Up here, the weather was cooler than down below, but the humidity was off the charts.

Tony stayed with the van in the car park at the base of the trail. He gave Tess and Liam a packed lunch and pointed them toward a trail she hadn’t been on the other day. “It’s a more difficult path, so we don’t take groups on it unless they’re all in good shape. It should be very quiet today. You’ll hike for a couple of hours along a stream and then come to a waterfall. Nice place to stop for lunch.”

Yeah, lunch and some nekkid time with Liam Callaghan. God, the thought of it almost made her nervous enough to throw up. She’d been naked with men before, of course, but she’d also seen their disappointment in her lack of certain physical attributes. Though most of them hid it well, she’d have to be blind not to have noticed the resignation when she stripped off her padded bra and revealed that even her modest cleavage was an illusion.

But when she’d confessed that to her sister, Gwen had said, “Are you kidding? Don’t you think men feel the same about themselves? They’re probably just as worried about the first time you see their beer bellies or the unimpressive size of their dicks. I mean, it’s hardly like you’re sleeping with athletes.”

Except that thought stopped being comforting when she was on the verge of sleeping with an athlete. Or, if not sleeping with him, then at least getting naked with him.

They hiked for nearly two hours, chatting about meaningless things. He seemed relaxed, happy to point out bird species he’d read about when he was a boy in London and had gone through a brief involvement in a local Young Ornithologists club. He also quizzed her about football—her favorite players, who she thought would win the league this season—as if he wanted to be sure she really was a footie supporter. She hated to sound like a stereotypical girl, but her football knowledge was completely limited to which players looked hottest in underwear adverts, so she mostly bemoaned the fact that David Beckham had retired.

They reached the pool as hunger pangs began clawing at her energy levels. They nearly walked past it, since it was hidden by a ring of trees, ferns and other junglelike bushes. Liam spotted the tiny break in the brush, a small path that had been created by people—and probably animals—pushing through the undergrowth to get to the water. With a sly glance at her, he grabbed her hand and led her to the pool, holding back tree branches so they didn’t slap her in the face.

When they broke through, Tess’s breath caught. A waterfall about twice Liam’s height rumbled at one end of the pool. The water from the stream above flowed over a rock shelf, creating what looked like a hidden room behind the waterfall. The pool was filled with clear water, revealing pebbles in the shallows and turning a deeper blue in the middle. Several large flat rocks ringed the pool, perfect for drying off or snoozing even if there wasn’t enough direct sunlight for tanning.

Perfect for sexy times.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.” Liam let go of her hand and crunched over the stony ground to the biggest rock. He dropped his backpack, pulled their packed lunches out and glanced back at her with a raised brow. “Coming?”

God, she hoped so. In every way possible. She climbed up on the rock, sitting cross-legged next to him and taking her sandwich with a smile and a mumbled thanks.

She hadn’t told him, but today would be her last day here. She’d booked a flight out of Caracas in the morning, which meant she would have to leave the lodge before sunrise. She’d run away from her problems, and apparently that’d just made them worse. Thanks to her no-longer-anonymous tell-all blog, she’d lost her professional reputation and her job. She’d sparked a legal inquiry that had embroiled her in a process she’d never wanted to be part of. She’d been called a feminist hero and a gutless bitch, when all she’d wanted was a way of relieving the overwhelming stress of her job. Having given her testimony, she’d thought she was in the eye of the hurricane. Turns out her former employer thought it the ideal time to strike back and release the email she’d stupidly sent a senior staff member, criticizing his bedroom performance.
Fuckers.

They ate in silence, both content to listen to the forest’s sounds as they reenergized. The river tumbling over the ledge and onto the pool. The water babbling as it left the pool behind them and carried on its journey down the mountain. The screech of a howler monkey somewhere in the tree branches behind them. The rustle of bushes made by a small creature—hopefully a frog, not a snake.

So different from the noises Tess had been surrounded by her whole life. Horns honking. Brakes squealing as a Tube train pulled into a station. Cyclists shouting at taxi drivers, and taxi drivers cursing back at cyclists. The forest’s noises acted as a balm to ease the nagging stress that had eaten away at her nerves and her stomach lining for years.

Liam balled up the wax paper his sandwich had been wrapped in and shoved it into the paper bag. Stretching his arms overhead, he lowered himself onto his back and closed his eyes, a slight smile touching his lips. One of his hands reached out and found her lower back, insinuating under the hem of her shirt to skim her skin with a touch as light as butterfly wings. She shivered with anticipation. Such a simple touch, yet nothing about the feelings it provoked was simple.

“This is paradise.” He let out a deep yogic sigh, as if the forest had helped him release toxins that had plagued him too. “I wish I could stay here forever.”

Her brows drew together. She’d only known him a couple of days, but that was long enough to see he was exhausted and preoccupied with something other than having a holiday. What could have knocked him back so hard? The upcoming World Cup, which England was hosting? The normal stress of a season, or was it something more? She wished she could stick around long enough to find out.

His fingers set up a rhythmic back-and-forth stroke, following the path of her waistband from hip to hip. She shoved their rubbish into her backpack and drew her knees under her chin, content to allow herself to be mesmerized by his touch and the wild sounds creating a tranquil den around them. Her feet ached from the hike, which hadn’t been
too
difficult but had been steep and required a lot of climbing. Her feet felt swollen, sweaty and constricted. She tugged at the knots of her laces, loosening them until she could slip her boots and socks off. A quiet moan escaped when she wriggled her toes. Freedom.

Liam chuckled behind her, and she glanced over her shoulder. “What?”

His eyes stayed closed, but his grin had grown. “I was just lying here thinking I’d found Eden, and then I heard Eve moan. Seemed like perfect timing.”

Waves of energy rolled through her from his fingertips stroking back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. She took a risk and lay down on her side next to him, inside the arc of his arm but just far enough that she could pretend it wasn’t an intimate gesture if he rejected her. He didn’t. He drew her closer, cuddling her against his side with her head and one arm propped on his broad chest. His breathing evened out, his lips softening as he seemed to fall asleep.

“You look exhausted,” she whispered.

“Been having weird dreams,” he mumbled, as if he was only half conscious.

She brushed her fingers over his cheekbone, just below the shadowy skin under his eye. “Nightmares?”

He was quiet for a second. Then he turned his head slightly to the side, snuggling deeper into her touch. “Dreams about my mum.”

She stilled, shocked to get such a personal answer. “Your mum?”

His eyelids opened to narrow slits, and the pain she saw behind them nearly made her heart stop. “She died in February.”

Tess’s breath fled her lungs. “I’m so sorry.”

The tip of his tongue touched his lower lip, his brows drawing together. He searched her face for some answer. After several moments, seeming to find whatever he was looking for, he said, “I think I’ve dreamed about her every night since. They’re so vivid, like she’s right here with me...or I’m there with her.”

“Where?”
Heaven?
Hell?

“Everywhere. She was quite a storyteller. When I was growing up, she told me lots of stories about her life. How she met my dad, how she felt on their wedding day and the day I was born... Now I keep dreaming that I’m part of those experiences, only she knows I’m there. She can see me, talk to me.” He drew in a deep breath, his chest rising beneath her. “And we always end up fighting.”

“Fighting how?”

“Arguing over...stupid things. We’re both so stubborn, neither of us can give in, and then she just fades away and I wake up knowing I’ve wasted whatever time I had with her.”

Tess cupped his cheek and he leaned into her touch, closing his eyes as if his confessions had exhausted him further. Gratitude welled up that he would share such personal things. “Liam?”

“Hmm?”

“You were very close to her, weren’t you?”

He nodded.

“Then you didn’t waste the time you had with her. It sounds like you cherished her, and I’m sure she cherished you.” Who wouldn’t?

He pulled her hand over his mouth, kissing the sensitive center of her palm and nuzzling her. Heart swelling painfully, Tess slid her hand out from under his and replaced it with her mouth, trying to tell him everything with her kiss. His mouth opened, his fingers sliding through her hair, holding her close as his lips slanted under hers. When his tongue touched hers, she was lost.

His free arm wrapped around her back, clasping her hip so he could drag her lower body to lie on top of his. He hugged her so close she rode every breath, every ripple that passed through him. His shivers of delight became hers. The sights and sounds of paradise disappeared until all that was left was him, hard and getting harder under her.

When she pulled back to catch her breath, he buried his face in her neck. His voice was low, gruff, as he said, “I don’t know about you, but I’m ready for a swim.”