‘I don’t,’ Carmen told him. ‘I don’t want to change things at work or complicate things for us...’
That much was certainly true.
He still didn’t even know her real name.
And even if he somehow understood her reasons for lying, how long till he got bored with her needy, demanding ways?
Carmen lay there, replaying how she had begged as she orgasmed, and took a moment to be grateful that she’d been pleading in Spanish.
‘No me dejes ir.’
Don’t let me go.
Who said that on a first date?
Or second, or third...?
Surely it was better to leave than to watch it all fizzle out?
‘Carmen?’ he said, and she turned and faced him.
They stared at each other in a way Carmen did not recognise. It wasn’t invasive. It wasn’t even questioning. It was, Carmen thought, more complex than that. She’d caught the eyes of competitors before, as they tried to size each other up, though this didn’t quite compare...
She had never held a gaze more readily—even if she was unsure of its meaning.
They were gauging each other, Carmen realised, staring as one might into a glassy ocean and trying to fathom its depth.
‘What?’ she asked to the demand of his eyes.
‘I was thinking...’
Carmen dared not hope, because her starving heart might devour this precious moment and misinterpret it as love.
‘Why don’t I take a couple of weeks off work?’ he said. ‘After the final.’
‘For...?’
‘To spend some time together?’
Carmen swallowed. ‘What would we do?’
‘Find orange sea glass... Have a lot of sex...’
He smiled that slow smile that made her stomach turn over on itself and she knew her heart was screaming for her to say yes.
But her head was yelling its familiar warning.
Do not love him.
The prospect truly terrified her.
‘You should get some sleep,’ Carmen said. ‘You’ve got a big match today!’
‘I’m glad you’ll be there this time.’
‘I can’t wait,’ she admitted.
She lay there, awake in his arms, listening to the thump of his sleeping heart, and she desperately wanted to take this chance, to follow her heart...