"Lucy can hear whatever you want to say. We have no secrets from each other."
"Not any more," said Lucy.
Nick scowled. "What's that supposed to mean?"
Abbey blushed and Lucy's gaze moved to his crotch. "Just that Abbey tells me everything," she paused, "Big Boy."
Abbey's blush intensified. "Lucy!"
Abbey turned toward him and shrugged apologetically.
Nick glared at her. He didn't like being spoken to as if he were an object of amusement. And he didn't like his polite request being ignored. He'd asked for privacy and it appeared neither was about to let him have it. It was infuriating. No one in Sydney ever treated him like this. That's because they knew who he was and that he could buy most of them out of a job at the stroke of a pen. Here, in Melbourne, he was largely unknown. Especially in the circles that these two appeared to mix in.
Abbey glared back at him, crossing her arms. The movement pushed up her br**sts so that the flesh protruded over the top of her dress. Nick resisted the urge to touch them.
"Okay," he conceded, "I'll tell you what I want to tell you in front of her."
Abbey's brows rose above her glasses. She waited.
"I wanted to tell you I enjoyed last night. Very much."
Abbey didn't move. She'd become very still. Nick glanced at her friend, suddenly feeling self conscious that she was there, listening to this very private conversation.
Nick didn't like feeling self conscious.
"Abbey, please can we talk in private? What I want to say to you shouldn't be heard by anyone else."
"Don't worry about me, Mr. Vane," chirped Lucy. "Like I said, Abbey and I share everything."
"Lucy!" Abbey glared at her friend, caught Nick's hand and stormed off down the beach towards the water.
They splashed into the shallows but Abbey didn't stop until she was further away from the crowd. The water lapped about his waist. There were still people about, but not so many that they felt claustrophobic.
"Say it," said Abbey, rounding on him.
Nick caught her other hand and looked down at her. Suddenly he didn't know what to say. She certainly wasn't making this easy for him. The way her lips stretched into a taught white line and her jaw clenched, he could tell she was still angry with him from the night before.
"Abbey," he began, scanning her face. He knew what he had to say so he should just say it. "Abbey, I'm sorry." There, he'd said it—the S word.
"That it?"
Nick shrugged.
"Good." She snapped her hands out of his and began to wade back to the shore.
"Abbey, wait!" He leapt after her, splashing violently until he reached her. He grabbed her hand, receiving a few strange looks from passing swimmers for his efforts. He ignored them.
"What do you want, Damien? I've had enough of these games, and Lucy's waiting."
"This isn't a game, Abbey." He sighed. He'd already apologized. What more did she want? "I really am sorry for what I called you. It was rude and I was out of line. It's just that I didn't know...I thought you were..." He sighed. "Okay, I jumped to the wrong conclusion, despite all the evidence pointing to that conclusion. But I have to admit, your weird explanation isn't helping me to figure you out."
Abbey stiffened. "Figure what out?" she asked crisply.
From her body language it appeared his second attempt at an apology hadn't worked either. He couldn't think why not—he may not be very experienced when it came to apologizing but he'd said 'Sorry'. What more did she expect?
Nick threw his hands in the air. "Figure out who you are! What you want from me! Why you came up to my room!"
"And why I had sex with you?"
Nick nodded. Good, she was beginning to understand his predicament.
Abbey looked down at the water swirling around her rib cage. She skimmed her hands along the surface, studying the rippling pattern as if it fascinated her.
"Abbey?"
She looked up. Her jaw was set firm.
"I'm a masseur. I work for the hotel. That's who I am."
"Damn it, Abbey, this isn't fair. I'm trying to get to know you—"
"Why?"
The question caught Nick off guard. He shrugged. "Because I like you." It was true, he realized. There was something about her that he was attracted to. It wasn't just physical either.
Abbey made a noise in the back of her throat that sounded like a growl.
"It's just sex," she said quietly. She looked up at him. He wished she'd take off the sunglasses so he could see her eyes. He would know her true feelings then. He'd know if she really meant that.
"Is that what you think?" he asked quietly.
She shrugged casually. A strap of her dress fell from her shoulder. He hooked a finger under it and gently pushed it back up, skimming his fingers along her skin as he did so. She was hot to touch. Hot and smooth and he wanted to feel more of her. His hand moved from her shoulder to her throat, then down across one breast, caressing languidly. He squeezed gently and received a gasp in response.
"Don't," she whispered, glancing around.
"Why not? I want you, Abbey."
She peered up at him, and he thought he could see her eyelids fluttering behind the dark glasses.
"Why not?" he asked again.
"Because of last night."
"I said I was sorry. What more do you want?"
"Do you still think I'm a hooker?"
"No." Nick didn't really know whether that was a lie or not. He still wasn't one hundred percent sure.
She nodded, apparently satisfied that he spoke the truth.
He bent his head and kissed her lightly on the lips. Her mouth was moist and tasted of salt. He licked and she leaned into him. He was glad the water came to his waist because he was already stiffening.
But Abbey pulled away. "This is getting out of control."
Nick knitted his brows. "It is? I thought we were just two consenting adults, enjoying each other's company. No strings attached, like you said. Am I wrong?"
His heart thudded in his rib cage. He wanted to be wrong. He wanted her to tell him he couldn't be more wrong.
"No." Her voice was firm, direct. "You're not wrong. Two consenting adults," she agreed.
He nodded, smiled tentatively. So it was just sex to Abbey. He was a fool to think the last two nights had meant anything more to her. He was a fool to let himself think it meant more to him. Because it didn't. She was right, this was just sex.
So why did his chest hurt so much? Why did he have an overwhelming urge to make her realize it was something more?