Page 39 of Their One-Night Rio Reunion
CHAPTER NINETEEN
WHENANAWOKEthis time it was bright outside. She could feel it against her eyelids and didn’t want to open her eyes. But she had to. She squinted at the sunlight.
She was lying under a light cover, still with the towel wrapped around her. Caio must have unravelled the towel from her hair, and it was under her head on the pillow.
She was alone. She sensed a distinct change in the air. The spell of last night was broken. She felt it as keenly as a cool wind across her skin. In fact, if she hadn’t been in Caio’s bedroom, and if her body hadn’t been aching all over, she might have fancied that she’d just spent a night with the most lurid dreams she’d ever had.
But it hadn’t been a dream. It had been real. And epic and devastating all at once.
Not wanting Caio to find her lying there mooning, Ana got up and groaned when she saw the state of her hair in the mirror. She looked as if she’d been pulled through a bush backwards. She was relieved Caio wasn’t witnessing this. As if he needed reminding that he’d be returning to more sleek and sophisticated lovers soon.
She pulled the towel tighter around herself and crept out of the bedroom and back to her own, closing the door softly behind her. She’d barely slept in her bed apart from that one sleepless hour before she’d decided to take a night-time swim in the sea and then Caio had appeared like an avenging sea god.
Ana groaned again when she thought of making love on the beach like two crazed teenagers. What must Caio think of her? Insatiable...wanton.
She had another shower in her own bathroom and tried not to notice the sensitive places on her body. The marks on her skin that told of big hands clasping her hips, holding her still so he could pump powerfully into her body.
When she got out, she dressed in loose black trousers and a dark red sleeveless silk V-neck top. Flat black shoes. She wanted to look mature. Elegant. Put-together. Nothing resembling the hot mess she felt inside.
She went downstairs and the kitchen was empty. Ana breathed out a sigh of relief. She wasn’t sure if she’d ever be ready to see Caio again after last night. But then she saw him. He was standing on the terrace dressed in jeans and a dark polo shirt, thick hair still damp from the shower.
He lifted his arm and Ana could see he was drinking from a small coffee cup. Her insides twisted. Something else they had in common. Strong coffee first thing in the morning.
As if sensing her regard, he turned around. He was clean-shaven. His face was carefully devoid of expression. Perhaps because she literally didn’t provoke a reaction in him. Even after last night.
She forced a smile, as if this morning-after scenario wasn’t going to kill her. ‘Morning.’
He said, ‘I made coffee. It’s still fresh.’
‘Cool.’
Brilliant, she’d regressed to being a teenager. She turned around before she could embarrass herself even more and went straight to the coffee machine, helping herself to a shot of thick dark coffee. The hot, rich liquid gave a much-needed shot of adrenalin to her veins.
Caio came in and stood on the other side of the island.
She held up the cup. ‘That’s good, thanks.’
‘How are you feeling...after last night?’
She avoided Caio’s eye.Oh, God, he was going to be nice about it. Considerate.
Feeling exposed, Ana asked a little waspishly, ‘Do you normally ask your lovers how they’re feeling the next day?’
‘No, because I’m not usually around.’
‘And now you feel compelled to because we’re stuck on an island?’
‘You were a virgin.’
Ana put down her coffee cup, its brief restorative effect turning to bile in her stomach. ‘I think I’m probably more aware of that fact than you are, but thanks for the reminder.’
Caio cursed softly and ran a hand through his hair. ‘Sorry... I didn’t mean it like that.’
Ana said quickly, ‘We really don’t have to do this whole morning-after thing. I’m fine. Really.’
His voice sounded tight. ‘Look, Ana, I wanted to talk to you about what you said last night... I never got a chance to explain, and I wasn’t going to, but you deserve to know.’
Ana had picked up a piece of fruit, as much to look busy as to satisfy her non-existent appetite. She put it down again. ‘You don’t owe me an explanation.’
