She exhaled and her lips opened slightly. A tiny sigh escaped. Ideally he’d have her sighing in ecstasy, but this seemed closer to relief.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

He kissed her again, just her bottom lip this time. Such a succulent bottom lip; he’d love to take a bite of her. The idea of biting had never occurred to him with other women, but Roslyn was special.

“I’m kissing you,” he said.

“Oh.” A frown flickered briefly across her face. At some stage she’d stopped scowling. Gradually her body relaxed beneath his. Hands no longer fought his hold. “I thought you were going to get off me.”

“Soon,” he agreed.

She gave him her curious face, her brows hunched in. “I’m not kissing you back.”

“Yeah.” He kissed her again. The side of her mouth, where top and bottom lip met. “I know.”

“Are you trying to prove another point?”

“No.” Lightly he brushed his lips over her cupid’s bow. “I’m just kissing you.”

“I don’t trust you.”

“Mm.”

Restlessly her h*ps shifted against the bed, accidentally rubbing against him. His c**k pulsed, jabbing at the top of his sweatpants, wanting out. Or, more accurately, wanting in. God help him. What a ridiculous situation. He choked back a laugh. Fact was, he could probably come just from kissing her. It would take longer. But it could be done.

“What was that?” she asked.

“I was laughing at myself.”

The woman tucked her chin in, drawing back from his wandering mouth. “Why?”

“You know, I’ve met two-year-olds who ask fewer questions than you.”

“You had kids?”

“No,” he said. “I didn’t have kids. Never been married, either.”

She digested this information with a slow nod. No smartass comment was made.

“We could get married,” he suggested with a smile.

“We are not getting married. Don’t be stupid.” Her scowl deepened. “Why were you laughing at yourself?”

“Well.” He sighed and leant in, brushed his nose against hers. “I was thinking I could come just from kissing you. Wanna give it a go?”

“No.” Her stomach rumbled loudly. “I’m hungry.”

“I heard.”

“Offering me your c**k as a source of sustenance would be a bad idea.” The top corner of her upper lip rose to expose her teeth, like he needed the hint.

“Guess it would.” He grinned.

“Get off me, Nick.”

“In a minute.”

“Nick.”

“Come on. Can’t you kiss me just once?”

She swallowed and studied the ceiling above him. “No.”

“Why not? One little kiss wouldn’t kill you.”

“Don’t.”

“Roslyn. Just one.”

“Oh, for f**k’s sake.” Her face screwed up tight, eyes thunderous. “Really, we’re back to this? And you say I’m immature.”

She was right. It was a waste of time. Who was he kidding?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re right.”

She rolled her eyes.

“No problem,” she said, voice bored. “I’m almost getting used to you sexually harassing me. Now, get off.”

He shook his head and grinned some more with relish. This would be fun. “No, not for that …”

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

“Yum,” the ass**le enthused, shoving another pikelet into his mouth. This one was loaded down with sugar and lemon juice, just how she liked them. Of course, he knew this because he’d been reading her diary, the abysmal shithead.

They were actually pretty good. The man could cook. But it would take a hell of a lot more than showing style with batter and toppings to make her smile.

Roslyn sat on the big lounge opposite him, concentrating on the stunning view out the front. Hectares of pristine bushland and beautiful mountains rising in the distance. An awesome view, much more calming than watching the ass**le eat. Her fingers tightened around her lukewarm mug of coffee in one hand, her reading glasses in the other. Their return along with the rest of her handbag did little to abate her pissy mood.

“Ros, have some more.”

“I’m fine. Thanks.” She sat with her legs curled up beneath her and a hand discreetly covering the spot where her neck met her torso. Just above her collarbone.

“It’s not that bad,” the ass**le said around a mouthful of food. His eyes lingered on her hand.

“Eat with your mouth shut, please.”

The ass**le grinned. With his mouth shut. That smile was pure pig—shelve him in 636.4—animal husbandry, swine. She’d tell him she hated him, but what was the point?

Nick downed the last of his coffee and licked his lips. “I’ve never bitten anyone before. It was kinda fun.”

“I hate you.”

“I wish I had a dollar for every time you’ve said that.” He leant forward and got busy topping up another pikelet with honey. “Actually, I don’t. What would be the point? Money’s useless these days.”

She said nothing. She had nothing to say.

“So, what do you want to do today?” he asked.

“With you? Nothing. How are they doing at the school?”

“Fine,” he said.

“Did you talk to them?”