She waited and watched whilst John stretched and yawned first before one lid flickered upwards, then another.
‘Good morning, Scarlet,’ he said as he swung his long legs over the side of the sofa and sat up. ‘I presume you slept well?’
‘Very,’ she admitted, determined to be honest. Determined to make him answer some questions as well. ‘Why did you come out here to sleep?’
‘For that reason,’ he replied somewhat drily. ‘To sleep. I was, shall we say, struggling to concentrate.’
‘Oh,’ she said, and blushed.
‘No need to be embarrassed. It’s not your fault that you’re a beautiful woman. I knew, if I stayed there, I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you. So I came out here and left you to have a good night’s rest.’
‘That was… very considerate of you,’ she said, not sure now if she felt embarrassed or pleased. There was something incredibly seductive about a man admitting he couldn’t keep his hands off you.
‘My pleasure, Scarlet. But don’t worry,’ he added with a wicked little smile. ‘You can make it up to me today.’
She gripped the glass tightly whilst trying to imagine what he had in mind. ‘What time is it, do you know?’
‘Time you and I had some breakfast, after which you can join me in the shower.’
‘But…’
‘No buts, Scarlet. We had a deal, remember?’
Scarlet straightened her shoulders. ‘I don’t recall agreeing to sex morning, noon and night.’
‘No?’
‘No.’
‘Are you saying you don’t want to join me in the shower?’
‘I’m saying you are not to presume that I will agree to anything and everything. You are to ask me first. And respect my wishes. Otherwise, this deal is off and I’ll catch the first flight home.’
‘Have you forgotten why you came up here in the first place?’ he reminded her ruthlessly.
‘I haven’t forgotten,’ she said with a defiant tilt of her chin. ‘But that doesn’t change my stance. Take it or leave it.’
Damn it but she was calling his bluff! Not that it had been a bluff, exactly. He’d thought after last night she’d be putty in his hands this morning. He supposed he should have known better. This was Scarlet he was dealing with here.
‘Very well,’ he conceded. ‘I would love you to join me in the shower after breakfast, Scarlet. But if you don’t want to, that’s fine,’ he added through clenched teeth.
Scarlet wasn’t sure what to say now, the ease of his capitulation having surprised her. She actually wanted to join him in the shower. It was his arrogant manner which had got her back up. Now that he was asking politely, it seemed rather hypocritical to say no. But she felt she had to. To give in at this early stage would feel somehow like she’d lost the battle-as though she-or, rather, her body, she hastily corrected-belonged to him. After last night, she wanted to make sure she stayed in control, and that meant setting boundaries.
‘I’d rather shower by myself,’ she said, trying not to sound too prim and proper. ‘I’m not used to sharing showers. Or making love during the day time, for that matter. If you don’t mind, could we confine our sexual activity to the evenings?’
‘I’d be lying if I said I didn’t mind. But you’re calling the shots for now, so sex will be confined to the evenings. Until you change your mind, of course,’ he added with a wicked glitter in his bedroom-blue eyes. ‘That is a woman’s privilege, isn’t it-to change her mind?’ And so saying, he stood up and stretched once more, grimacing as he did so. ‘Thank God I won’t have to sleep out here tonight. It’s hell on my back.’
‘You could have slept in one of the guest rooms,’ she pointed out somewhat tartly.
‘Now, why didn’t I think of that? Right, do you want breakfast before your shower or after? Note, I’m asking very politely and not telling you.’
Scarlet pulled a face at him. ‘There’s no need to be
‘Splendid. I’ll leave you to it, then. I’m off to have
Regret consumed Scarlet as she watched him stalk off. But she refused to back down. She needed to keep focused on what she’d come here to do. As John had inadvertently reminded her, this wasn’t a pleasure trip, no matter how much pleasure she might have felt last night. And, actually, Scarlet remembered reading that too much sex was as bad for conception as too little. Couples who were having trouble falling pregnant were encouraged to chart the woman’s cycle and reserve sex for the days surrounding ovulation. She would have to mention that to John. But not yet, perhaps. She suspected he would not take kindly to her telling him he would have to curtail his pleasure for a couple of days early next week so that his sperm count would be at maximum level.
But tell him, she would. Eventually.
No matter what, she had to maintain some control over John.
Pursing her lips determinedly, Scarlet marched out to the kitchen where she swiftly set about getting herself a bowl of muesli and a glass of orange juice, all the while making plans for the day in her head. As soon as she had breakfast, she would shower and dress-in the main bathroom-after which she would ask John to take her for a walk around the CBD of Darwin, followed by a light lunch somewhere, followed by a long drive or a boat trip on the harbour, or whatever would fill in the afternoon.
She would make sure it was late afternoon by the time they came back to the apartment, leaving only enough time for them to both freshen up before going out for dinner, which should occupy a further few hours. Although usually a fast eater, she would be very slow this evening, making sure that it would be at least ten or eleven by the time they got back to the apartment, with their energy levels low after a long day of walking and sightseeing. She doubted John would be capable of making love to her more than once. Twice, at best. He did seem to have amazing stamina in that regard. But what the heck? She was sure she would survive two more ground-shaking orgasms without totally losing her willpower or, worse still, imagining that she must be in love with John simply because she was enjoying sex with him.
Her top lip curled derisively as she dismissed that insane possibility without a second thought. Only hopelessly naive romantics believed in such hogwash, and it had been some time since Scarlet had been either naive or a romantic. She supposed in one way it was rather sad to have one’s illusions about love and sex dashed to the ground so emphatically. But then real life was sad, wasn’t it? Real life killed off one’s father when you were only nine. And real life kept you unloved and childless till you were at such an age that your dreams were almost beyond your reach.
But only almost…
Scarlet wasn’t sure why, but she suddenly felt supremely confident that when she caught her flight home on Sunday week she would be pregnant with John’s child. Okay, so having a baby was only half of her dreams, but it was the better half. The safer and more secure half. She would settle for that half, any day of the week.
Her heart thudded in her chest as she tried to imagine how it would feel when her pregnancy was confirmed. She would be over the moon. And so would her mother.
‘Oh my God, Mum!’ she exclaimed, having forgotten all about the promise she had made to her mother the previous evening to send her some photos of the apartment today.
So much to do, she thought as she started to shovel the muesli into her mouth. And so little time!
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
SCARLET ate breakfast, had a shower and got dressed in record time, choosing white capri pants and a salmon-pink top which had a not-too-low sweetheart neckline and capped sleeves. The same speed was applied to her hair, which she only half blow-dried before scooping it all up into a high pony-tail, anchored by a white elastic band. Make-up was none, other than some tinted sunscreen plus her favourite coral lipstick. She didn’t spray on any perfume or don any jewellery, having resolved not to dress or act provocatively. After adding flat white sandals, she
