It’s Love, Dude Page 8

  Pink and white. Would Zane remember their marshmallow conversation that had made her melt?

  She slipped her feet — strawberry blush varnish on her toenails — into leather sandals and gave herself permission for a quick reconnaissance of the hotel. Magic might happen in her wanderings and she’d overhear someone announcing Zane’s room number. She pulled a face. That was so likely. Truth was, she was indulging the butterflies in her tummy and procrastinating.

  Down in the foyer, the media pack had found their prey.

  She gasped as she recognised the movie star. Well, that explained the media pack. It was surprising they hadn’t mobbed the elevators.

  But beyond the media pack, she saw the same receptionist who’d checked her in calmly going about his business. Apparently, seeing celebrities was something that got old, fast.

  Blinking at the dazzle of photographic flash, Molly made for the doorway marked ‘café’. With the media pack between her and the main entrance, there was no way she was going to even try to make it outside.

  It turned out her instincts were sound. The café had a second exit to the street. The option made her hesitate. What did she want to do? Explore a little, maybe walk off her fidgets? Have a coffee? Phone Zane, as she should?

  Her dither in the doorway was interrupted by the entrance of Zane, himself, from the street.

  He was dressed casually in a black t shirt and shorts. Fortunately he was one of the rare men who looked good in shorts. No knobbly knees. He paused in the doorway as he peeled off his sunglasses.

  Molly raised a hand.

  His gaze hit hers and his chin jerked. Then he smiled big.

  Thank all the surf gods!

  She smiled and ran forward, threading between the tables. ‘Surprise!’

  ‘Babe.’ His hug lifted her off the ground.

  A hum of interest and laughter grew around them from the people in the café. There might have been a wolf whistle.

  Zane set her on the ground, but kept an arm around her shoulders. ‘You look great. Come on. I have a suite upstairs. We can talk there.’

  Only his arm kept her from floating up to the ceiling. There was no doubting the sincerity of his welcome. Her sandals skipped as he rushed her to the elevators.

  Back in the foyer, the celebrity — or rather, her bodyguards — was forging a determined path through the media pack. The session was at an end. Unfortunately that left a lot of media, armed with cameras, at a loose end. One caught sight of Zane and snapped a photo. That started it.

  ‘Like bloody ants.’ Zane tucked her close, blocking her from view as the flashes exploded and the dazzling light reflected back from the glass surrounding the lifts. ‘Where one goes, the others follow.’

  But they didn’t follow them into the lift. A massive security guard was the reason for that. When the man-mountain took a step forward, the media flinched – proving that a mob could be intelligent or at least, possess a sense of self-preservation.

  ***

  Zane gave the hotel’s security guy a tight nod. He’d tip him later. He could feel Molly tense beside him. The last thing they needed was to be chased up to his suite. Talk about ruining the best surprise he’d had in years. Zane shook it off. With the lift moving upwards, it was just the two of them. He relaxed his protective arm. ‘All right?’

  She nodded uncertainly. ‘Are they always like that? At the skate park opening they were a bit pushy, but that was…’ She spread her hands wide, indicating that she had no words.

  ‘Bad timing. Forget them.’ The lift door opened and he walked her out, into his suite.

  ‘Oh my goodness.’ She went straight to the view, as everyone did. ‘This is stunning.’ She spun around, taking in the suite itself. ‘Oh my goodness.’ Slower, and with even more emphasis. ‘Is this the penthouse?’

  ‘No.’ He swallowed a grin. Starting out, he’d been just as awed by the luxury the world held. Now, he didn’t notice it. ‘It doesn’t have a butler, either.’

  Her eyes, wide and dark, went to his. ‘A butler?’

  Cute.

  He closed the distance between them, bent his head and kissed her. ‘I like it that you’re here. Thanks, babe.’

  She smiled, her arms slid around his waist and she gave him a quick hug. A spontaneous squeeze, nothing sexual about it, just happiness.

  He liked that, too.

  He liked it so much that he kissed her again, with intent. Not pushing it, but making it clear that he liked the taste and feel of her. Oh yeah, he liked the feel of her. He ran his hand down her spine and cupped her butt, urging her up on tiptoes. She fitted him perfectly.

  And she wobbled endearingly when he ended the kiss. Her eyes opened, giving him a close up of dreamy brown eyes.

  He wanted her in his bed, naked.

  But he also wanted to protect the trust and happiness in her eyes. His granddad wasn’t wrong. Molly was special. With any other woman, her flying to surprise him at the Gold Coast would have been an invitation to sex at the first possible moment. But with Molly, he didn’t think it was so simple.

  She wasn’t a sophisticate. It was more than her small town upbringing. Hell, he was from the same town and look at him. With Molly, it was about the choices she made. He knew she wouldn’t share her body lightly. It would involve respect and trust and liking — and he wanted all that from her. So he’d let her set the pace, though he knew he’d push it.

  He wanted her too much not to push it.

  But for now, he locked away his inner caveman. ‘You want a drink, babe?’

  At her soft ‘yeah’ he got a mix of fresh tropical juices from the fridge, poured two glasses and gestured that she should lead the way out to the balcony.

  She fidgeted. ‘Am I interrupting your training? You said you couldn’t make it to Jardin Bay, so I thought I’d surprise you, but I don’t want to get in the way. You do whatever you need to do for the competition and I’ll…um…do touristy things.’

  ‘Touristy things?’ He shouldn’t tease her when she looked so adorably concerned.

  ‘I could go snorkelling or something. Window shopping.’

  ‘I’d like you at the beach with me, but that’s up to you. There’s a lot of standing around, doing not so much.’

  ‘I’d love it,’ she interrupted, face alight with enthusiasm. ‘I’d like to watch you and see your world. I’ve been reading up on surfing.’

  He grinned. Only Molly, brought up and living in a surf town, would get her knowledge out of a book.

  ‘So I’m not completely ignorant. I wouldn’t embarrass you.’

  His grin died. His glass hit the table with a crack. ‘Molly, you could never embarrass me.’

  Her eyes searched his. A slow smile dawned at whatever she read there. ‘I like you, Zane Carlton.’

  ‘I like you, too, Miss Molly.’

  She laughed, a sound of sheer happiness.

  ‘Let me tell you about the schedule for the next couple of days.’

  ***

  Molly listened, but she had to admit, she wasn’t listening to Zane’s words as much as to his voice, the intensity in his eyes and simply soaking up the joy of being there — and knowing he wanted her there, with him.

  That kiss. She fought to keep her eyes open. They wanted to drift dreamily shut. Fortunately, looking at Zane was a great incentive for keeping her eyes open. Looking at his kissable mouth, the laughter lines edging his awesome hazel eyes, his strong throat and incredible shoulders, his chest, she knew she was super-lucky.

  ‘Molly? Babe?’

  ‘Um.’ She was so caught. There was only one word for what she’d been doing: ogling.

  By his grin, Zane appreciated it.

  She smiled at him. ‘So the competition starts tomorrow.’ She had been listening, kind of, and she’d done a little reading about the event. ‘Rounds, quarter finals, semi-finals and the winner announced on Sunday.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s a compressed event. The results don’t count towards the World Cha
mpionships, but I like the Gold Coast, know and respect the organiser, and I’m being paid an appearance fee. I agreed to it months ago.’

  And Zane kept his commitments.

  ‘I’d like to take you out to dinner, tonight.’

  ‘Okay.’ Yay!

  ‘It’ll have to be an early mark. Casual or fancy?’

  Posh in a place like this was beyond anything she’d brought with her. ‘Casual.’

  ‘Cool, but I still want to see you dolled up some time.’

  Her heart stuttered at the heat in his eyes.

  ‘I’d like to see you glamorous and sexy and all mine.’

  ‘I’ll buy something,’ she said.

  ‘All mine.’ The echo of his words made her giddier than champagne did. Flying out to surprise him had paid off big time. ‘All mine’ said in a growly, hungry voice was spine-tingling in the best of ways.

  ‘There’s a formal dinner Sunday night,’ he continued.

  ‘I’ll buy something tomorrow.’

  ‘I’m liking your enthusiasm, babe.’

  She blushed because she had sounded like an over-eager kid promising anything to get their Christmas presents. Except her gift was totally adult.

  ‘Seriously liking it, Molly.’ He grabbed her hand. ‘But you’ve spent a whack just flying here. How about I shout you the dress?’

  She looked at their joined hands and felt the warmth and strength of his hold. She still shook her head. ‘I can afford it.’ And if she couldn’t, her credit card would take the hit.

  ‘Babe.’

  ‘I can, Zane, and I’d prefer it. But I’ll let you buy me dinner, tonight.’

  ‘You bet you will. When we go out, I pay.’

  ‘That’s old-fashioned.’ She suddenly laughed. ‘You’re exactly like your grandfather. Tom won’t let me pay for my coffee, either.’

  ‘Where do you think I get the attitude? He’d tell you he didn’t do much for Brodie or me.’ Zane turned his juice glass, patterning circles on the outdoor table. He lifted the glass and drained it. ‘That’s not true. He got Brodie into martial arts and me into surfing. He gave us ways to discipline the chaos in us.’

  ‘Chaos?’ she prompted, concerned and yet touched that he’d share something so personal with her.

  ‘All kids test the boundaries. Brodie and I more than most. With a dad like Rob we could have gone wild. We needed to pit ourselves against something. Tom guided us into activities where we became our own opponent. To be better at what we did harnessed our energy to something good. We owe him. I owe him.’

  ‘I think you paid him back when you grew up to be a man he can be proud of.’

  He stared at her for a long moment. ‘I hope that’s true, and I like that you think it is.’ He shook off his quiet mood. ‘Now, let’s show you the set-up for tomorrow.’

  Chapter 9

  The restaurant Zane chose was a beachside café, casual chic and perfect for the sage green dress she wore. Its wide, shallow v-collar showed an expanse of skin without dipping low. The soft cotton skirt flared out from her hips, swishing with every step. She wore her hair loose with her plain silver stud earrings back in and matching silver bangles. Her high heeled sandals clicked on the footpath, then echoed on the wooden steps as they climbed up with Zane’s hand at her elbow.

  The café operated in a trendy building built high on stilts with a veranda on two sides. The verandas were filled with tables and the inside lighting showed a busy hum of business despite the early hour. Zane wasn’t the only competitor planning an early night.

  They queued, waiting to be seated. Molly shivered as Zane ran his hand absently up and down her arm. Then she glanced at his expression and realised the gesture wasn’t absent at all. He enjoyed touching her. They were standing in a restaurant queue indulging in foreplay. Eep!

  ‘Zane, my man.’

  Zane put an arm around her shoulders as he turned to answer the greeting.

  Two guys and a woman about his age grinned at them.

  Zane made introductions and Molly smiled.

  A waitress swooped down, thrusting menus at them. ‘Table for five.’ It wasn’t a question.

  Zane stiffened.

  ‘Nope. Table for seven!’

  Zane relaxed, or surrendered to the inevitable, resting his head against hers for a second. ‘That’s Oliver. No hope of escape now.’

  Despite the noise of the restaurant, Oliver heard. He was a big man with an even bigger beard and the biggest laugh. It exploded, silencing the restaurant for an instant of disbelief.

  The waitress recovered first. ‘A table for seven.’ She led them to a table out on the veranda in the very furthest corner.

  Molly bit her lip to stop a giggle. Oliver was being ostracised.

  ‘It happens all the time.’ The guy who’d entered with Oliver extended his hand to Molly. ‘I’m Jack. I tell Oliver to just shut up till we’ve gotten a decent seat, but he never learns.’

  The group was a fun one, a mix of professional surfers and enthusiasts. Jack was a physiotherapist, Oliver a photographer. They were clearly old friends of Zane’s, and just as clearly, curious about her. She’d thought that might make her shy, but their teasing was friendly and mostly directed at Zane, who dealt with it all easily, his arm on the back of her chair till dinner was served.

  ‘So you’re from Jardin Bay, too?’ Carly asked. She was Gavin’s partner. They were both professional surfers, and like Zane, were carb-loading on pasta.

  ‘Yes.’ Molly glanced up from carefully removing a bone from her grilled fish. She caught the look Carly shared with Gavin before they both smiled at Zane. They were pleased for him.

  ‘Must be something in the water,’ Oliver boomed.

  Molly jumped. Then she looked at the water jug.

  Oliver laughed.

  It felt like the table jiggled.

  ‘Nah, mate,’ he said. ‘I meant the water in Jardin Bay. You’re gorgeous and Zane scrubs up all right. Must be something in the water. I’ll have to get my butt over there and take some photos.’

  ‘That’d be great,’ Molly said, thinking of Zane’s friend visiting. ‘The sunsets are amazing.’

  ‘Oliver takes photos of people, babe.’ Zane directed a flat look at his friend. ‘But not of you.’

  This time Oliver’s laughter was a subterranean chuckle. ‘I hear you, mate. Hands off. About time, too.’

  The café served huge slabs of apple pie. Molly, not having to watch her diet like the competitors, chose instead a lemon and lime pie that was piled so high with meringue it resembled an upside-down pavlova.

  Simultaneous with her last bite and happy sigh, Zane asked. ‘You finished?’

  She blinked. It was still early. ‘Do you need to go to bed?’

  Oliver roared. In fact, the whole table except her and Zane laughed.

  She blushed.

  ‘What I need,’ Zane said distinctly. ‘Is to leave these clowns behind.’

  His friends grinned.

  ‘I’ll bet,’ Oliver said.

  Zane slapped money on the table to pay their share of the bill, then amid amused looks and flat-out commentary, he had them heading out.

  ‘Sorry, I didn’t think,’ Molly whispered as they walked down the steps. ‘All I meant was that I know you need a good night’s sleep before the competition.’

  ‘Yeah, but I need something else more. I finally get to take you to dinner, and I have to share you.’

  ‘I liked your friends.’

  ‘They liked you, too. But what I want is a private moment to kiss you — and this damn beach is full of idiots.’

  Molly’s heart thudded. Her skin flushed. She was embarrassed, but determined, and she trusted him. ‘I know flying here to surprise you maybe looks like…um. For me it’s too soon to sleep with you, but I would like that kiss and my room or yours would be private.’

  The well-lit path meant she could see his expression, and it was breath-taking. Tenderness. Desire. Intensity. Worth the courage i
t had taken her to speak up. Worth the trust.

  He cupped her face, sliding his hand back into her hair and tilting her up for a kiss.

  The brush of his lips was reassuring and exciting.

  ‘My suite. Bedroom door closed. Then I’ll walk you back to your room. You set the pace, babe, because I’ll take everything you offer.’

  Oh wow.

  ‘Okay,’ she said shakily.

  He minded going slow, but he’d go with it. For her.

  ***

  The sofa in Zane’s suite was a three seater; not quite long enough for him to be comfortable, but he could make do. Yeah, he could make do, what with the pay-off being Molly lying over him, her hair wild, her mouth soft and full, lush, and her dress off one shoulder with his hand cupping her breast.

  She had beautiful breasts.

  He teased the taut nipple, feeling the ripple of response run the length of her.

  Her kiss was hot and sweet, eager.

  The constraint her trust place on him intensified the impact of everything. The slight movements of her hips — that he was willing to bet she didn’t know she was making — were the sweetest torture.

  ‘What more can I have?’

  She looked at him blindly.

  He pushed her dress down, hitched her higher up his body and sucked on the tight nipple.

  ‘Zane.’ His name drawn out on a whimper.

  He loved it. He sucked harder and she ground down, too high to hit the jackpot, but her readiness working for him anyway. ‘Take my hand.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘My hand, honey.’ He caught hers. ‘You’re nearly there. Take my hand. Put it where you need. Take what you want.’ He saw the moment she understood. Saw the instant burn of embarrassment. ‘I want it, babe. I want you finding it with me.’ He guided their hands between their bodies. ‘Yes?’

  She pressed his hand to her panties.

  Wet. She was frigging soaked. For him.

  And then she rode his hand while he kissed her, using his tongue and teeth, eating her, until her orgasm damn near broke her and him.

  He waited till her breathing steadied — and he got himself under control — then as her eyes focussed, he smiled. ‘Never had anything so beautiful. No, don’t get embarrassed and don’t think I’m going to take this further — tonight. Tomorrow, I’ll see you at breakfast, yes?’