Page 25 of His Last Gamble

‘It beats Cardiff on a wet Sunday afternoon,’ he agreed, and for the first time Charmaine was able to put a name to that very slight sing-song quality to his voice. So he was Welsh — though given his accent was otherwise American, she guessed he’d spent the majority of his years Stateside before moving to the Bahamas.

She watched him reach forward and spoon a little piece of strawberry preserve and place it on the tip of his finger.

What on earth? She abruptly sat forward on her chair, her heart hammering in her breast. Surely he wasn’t going to offer her the morsel? And if he did, would she actually have the nerve to lick it off? She knew that she should. If she was ever to win him over and break his fickle heart, she would have to start luring him somehow.

She swallowed nervously. Could she reach forward, slowly, letting her eyes become dreamy and sensuous, while capturing his wrist lightly in her fingers? A soft sigh feathered past her lips as she could almost feel the hard bone under her caressing fingers, his warm, tanned skin lightly dusted with fine blond hair. He’d catch his breath as she pulled his hand towards her, his own lips parting in desire as she opened her mouth, preparatory to pulling his finger inside.

Her tongue began to tingle in anticipation of licking the sweet jam from his finger, perhaps tasting the merest hint of salt from off his skin. He’d watch as her lips closed around his finger in a perfect ‘O’ as she sucked. Only softly at first, but then harder, making him breathe harshly, maybe even . . .

‘Watch,’ he said, and lifted his finger a little into the air in front of him — and firmly away from her.

She blinked, aware that she was the one breathing hard. She was the one caught in a web of sensuality. And then, the very next moment, before she had the chance to become angry or embarrassed, a flash of green and turquoise flashed across the air with a soft whirr of wings, and a small bird hovered over his finger.

Charmaine gasped. ‘Oh. Oh, he’s beautiful.’

‘A sunbird, I think,’ he said. ‘Marissa, the owner of the café, has spent years teaching them this trick.’

The bird landed on Payne’s finger and began to lick the jam with a long, sticky tongue.

‘I can hardly feel him, he’s so light,’ Payne said, looking across at her, his heart contracting at the look of delighted wonderment in her eyes.

‘Can I?’ she wondered aloud, reaching for the spoon eagerly.

‘Not too much,’ he warned, and she put the merest speck of red onto her upturned fingertip.

The bird continued to feed hungrily on Payne’s finger, but no other birds moved towards them. Then, just when she thought she would be out of luck, she caught a flash of crimson, black and white, out of the corner of her eye.

It was not a bird, however, but a butterfly, with elongated oval wings. She watched as it fluttered closer in that zigzagging haphazard flight unique to their species. Several times she thought it was going to fly away, but slowly it fluttered ever closer, seemed to hover playfully around her outstretched finger, as if working up the courage to land, then suddenly alighted.

Charmaine froze, determined not to scare the beautiful creature away. She was unaware how Payne stared at her, mesmerised by the sight. She looked so incredibly beautiful, rapt and blissful, in a world of her own.

And oh, he wanted her to look at him like that!

He shook his head, frightening the bird on his hand into sudden whirling flight.

If he had any sense, he’d find out what she was up to, teach her not to play games with him, then send her packing back to her Oxford cottage a much wiser and perhaps sadder woman.

That was what he should do.

But when she turned starry eyes back to him, he knew he’d never be able to do it.

Well, so be it.

He was going to have to have her now. Have to find out where this was all taking him. Because he was sure she had some sort of scheme in mind. And since scheming obviously didn’t come naturally to her, he was intrigued to find out what was behind it all. And if a taunting little voice whispered at the back of his mind that he was well and truly snared, he ruthlessly pushed it aside. After all, he could handle a novice like this with one hand tied behind his back. Right?

Charmaine felt the words she’d been about to speak dry up in her throat. As if sensing her sudden panic, the butterfly flew away.

Why was he looking at her like that?

‘Payne,’ she croaked nervously.

‘Yes?’ he said harshly.

‘Is something wrong?’

Payne smiled crookedly. ‘Wrong? What could possibly be wrong?’ And so saying, he reached forward and pulled her finger into his mouth.

She gasped as he sucked lustily on her digit, turning her breasts into twin peaks of desire and making her snatch her hand away as if she was being burned.

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