More Than a Fling? (17 page)

‘And me,’ Justin added.

Ally sent them a watery smile as she reached out and took
Sabine’s hand. ‘Thanks, but he should be more scared of Maman.’

‘Damn right,’ Sabine agreed. ‘Nobody messes with my girl.’

* * *

Ross slouched into the chair on his fully dark veranda
and propped his bare feet up onto the corner of the long wooden table. When he
couldn’t sleep—which was all the time—he’d taken to sitting here in this chair
and staring into the dark. Above him the stars in the southern hemisphere sky
were partially obscured by light cloud and below him the waves used the beach as
a punch bag.

He closed his eyes, saw Ally in every shadow in his mind and
quickly opened them again. Frickin’ hell, he simply couldn’t get her out of his
head. She was there in the early morning as he tried to run off his frustration
and his sadness on the beach; he found himself reaching for his mobile to see if
she’d sent him an e-mail or a text during meetings; she was there when he
finally crawled into bed at night.

He’d tried so hard to stop loving her, to stop thinking about
her, but everywhere he went she was on his mind. He so badly wanted her to fade
from his memory but just as badly he wanted to recollect every minute he’d spent
with her.

He’d become the basket case he’d accused her of being. Ross
rubbed his jaw, hearing the rasp of his beard. He couldn’t remember when last
he’d shaved, when last he’d eaten something he’d actually tasted, and when he
did manage to doze off his dreams all starred Ally. He couldn’t decide if he
hated or loved them.

A million thoughts scurried in and out of his brain but a few
were lodged front and centre. They’d been so damn close to finding something
special, to clicking in the way that poets and songwriters wrote of. So damn
close... Had he said enough? Had he reacted too early? Had he forced her into a
corner and boxed her in?

Each question twisted the long, cold spear lodged in his heart.
He’d still had so much to say to her but instead he’d just watched her walk
away.

Then again, he’d asked her if she loved him and she hadn’t had
an answer. And even
he
knew, stupid as he was when
it came to women, that her non-answer meant that she didn’t. And he’d have to
have had the IQ of a fence pole to forget that she’d warned him that she didn’t
do messy emotions or attachments. Why the frig hadn’t he listened?

And under the desperation, the ache for her, he was constantly,
chronically angry. They could have had, could have
been
, something special. When she forgot to be closed off and walled
up she was funny and sensitive and so damn sexy it took his breath away. And she
adored his dog...

‘Arf!’ Pic barked, as if he knew exactly what Ross was
thinking.

‘Yeah, yeah—she loved you far more than she loved me. No need
to rub it in.’

Pic gave him a look that suggested he grow a pair and stop
whining. It wasn’t a bad idea, Ross thought, but he rather liked
wallowing—especially when there was no one to witness it except for Pic. And who
was
he
going to tell?

‘Arf, arf, arf!’ Pic bark-shouted again, his tone suggesting
that Ross should not test his powers.

‘I’m talking to a damned dog,’ he murmured, rolling his head to
try and ease the tension that had become his favourite companion—not counting
the four-legged sarcasm machine at his feet.

So tomorrow he’d get up, get dressed, go to work, he thought.
Just as he’d done every day since she’d left. Maybe tomorrow he’d recapture the
joy he felt in his work; hopefully he wouldn’t spend another day just going
through the motions.

Maybe he’d call up a few mates, have them round for a barbecue,
surf later and throw back a few beers, pretend everything was back to
normal.

Or maybe—and this was far more likely—he’d sit here again
tomorrow night, alone and miserable, with a whisky bottle close to his elbow and
an empty, throbbing soul.

THIRTEEN

Ross caught
a wave to the beach, stepped off his board into the
shallows and wished that he could just go back in and stay there. When he was
flying down the waves he temporarily forgot that he was bloody miserable
and...and lonely, dammit.

He tucked his board under his arm and shoved his hair back off
his face. He had little reason to feel so...so
flat
,
he thought. Yeah, he’d lost a girl, but his life was still full. He was
financially fluid, his relationship with his family was better than ever, he had
lots of friends and a roaring business. If he needed a woman he could do it the
old-fashioned way: head down to a pub and pick someone up.

The thought made him want to throw up. Not only had Jones taken
his heart, it seemed she’d also taken his sex drive too. Just another aspect of
this very crappy situation.

Ross whistled for Pic and frowned when he saw that he wasn’t
where he’d left him, lying next to the huge piece of driftwood where he and Ally
had always sat when they came down to the beach. Ross felt his heart lurch in
panic. Pic—so well trained—would never have left his spot unless there’d been a
problem. Had he been dognapped? He’d lost his woman—losing his dog would put him
right over the edge.

Desperately trying to keep calm, Ross whistled again and
finally heard that answering familiar bark. He whirled around, surfboard
wobbling, and there was Pic, his long ears bouncing as he ran.

Ross would later swear he had the biggest smile on his
face.

‘Arf-arf-arf-arf-arf!’

Ross bent down as Pic reached him, quickly running his hands
over his body to check if he was injured, looking for a clue as to why he’d
leave his spot. ‘Why d’ya leave, Picky? Why, huh?’

‘Arf-arf-arf-arf-arf!’ Pic shouted back, then twisted around
and bolted down the beach.

Ross shouted at him to return, but instead he ran full-tilt at
the waves to a slim figure who stood in the shallows, a stick in her hand. Ross
watched as she lifted the stick and threw it into the water. Pic plunged into
the waves after it.

Ally.

Ross dropped his board, put his hands on his thighs and hoped
that his heart wasn’t about to jump out of his ribcage. She was dressed as
casually as he’d ever seen in her, in cotton shorts that stopped midthigh and a
tight-fitting crop top that showed off a strip of her belly. Her hair was tucked
under a baseball cap and big shades covered her eyes. If it wasn’t for Pic then
he might not even have noticed her standing on the beach, the sea playing
amongst her bare toes.

This is it
, Ally thought, looking
sideways.

She could feel Ross’s hard eyes on her, yet he didn’t come any
closer, didn’t make a move. Ally sighed. Could she blame him? She was the one
who’d walked, who’d left him with words of love on his lips... Why should he do
a damn thing?

No, she owed it to him to make the first move, she thought as
Pic dropped the stick at her feet, lay down on his tummy and looked up at her
with his I’ll-die-if-you-don’t eyes. She smiled, picked up the stick and tossed
it again. When he’d bounded off she made her way through the shallows to where
Ross was standing, his expression forbidding.

‘Hi,’ she said quietly, wishing she could touch him. His hand,
his arm, his face...anywhere.

‘I should’ve guessed you were back when I couldn’t find my damn
dog. Pic wouldn’t leave his spot for anyone but you,’ Ross said in a rough
voice.

‘He looked so sad, waiting for you, that I thought I’d play
with him for a bit,’ Ally said, her words spilling out in a heated rush.

Ross picked his board up, pushed it nose down into the sand and
folded his arms across his bare chest. ‘What are you doing here, Alyssa?’

Ally twisted her fingers together. ‘That’s a good
question...’

‘Does it have an answer? Maybe some time this century?’

Ally winced at the ice in his tone. Pic bounded up to them
again, the stick in his mouth. Ross grabbed him before its pointed ends could
scrape either of them, commanded Pic to drop the stick and stay.

Pic dropped the stick and stayed, but not before humphing out
an unamused bark and turning his back on Ross. Ally bit her lip to keep from
smiling at Ross’s fur person.

‘He’s been impossible since you left,’ Ross muttered. ‘You
spoilt him.’

‘And you spoilt me,’ Ally said. ‘And I’ve been impossible since
I left too.’

Ross waited a beat before responding. ‘You are always bloody
impossible, so how was it different this time?’ he said in a weary voice.

Ally gestured to their spot by the driftwood and felt relieved
when Ross walked over to the log, rested his butt against the hard wood and
crossed his legs at the ankles. Water sat in fat beads on his skin and rolled
off his hair. As per usual he hadn’t brought a towel with him to the beach,
preferring to jump into the shower after surfing. Preferably with her.

But if she had to judge by his inscrutable face a repeat of
that wasn’t likely.

Ross sighed, clenched the hand that rested on his thick thigh
and lifted one eyebrow. ‘I’m not going to stand here and play guessing games
with you. Say what you want to say and let’s get this done.’

He wasn’t going to make this easy for her and she couldn’t
blame him. ‘I’m sorry I walked away.’

‘You flew six thousand miles to tell me that?’

‘Yes...no... That was part of it.’ Ally pulled off her cap and
glasses and tossed them to the sand. Her hair tumbled down and a couple of
strands caught the evening breeze and danced around her face. She held them back
with one hand. ‘You hinted that you might love me.’

‘It wasn’t a bloody hint. I came right out and said it,’ Ross
retorted, obviously unhappy with the idea.

‘Do you still? Love me?’

‘Unfortunately it’s not an emotion I can switch on and off,
despite some major effort on my part,’ Ross snarled. ‘Is there a point to this?
Because if you’ve come to rub my nose in it then you can just sod off
again.’

Ally gathered what little courage she had left and forced out
the words that would change her life for ever. ‘I’m trying—very badly—to tell
you that I feel the same.’

‘So?’

Ally frowned, puzzled. ‘I thought you might want to know
that.’

Ross said in a deadpan voice, ‘Am I supposed to drop down, put
my feet in the air and wait for you to rub my stomach? You’re confusing me with
my dog.’ Ross pushed himself up and sent her a hot glance. ‘Hearing that doesn’t
mean a hell of a lot—especially since I know that there’s nothing backing
it.’

‘What do you mean?’ Ally cried, her heart pounding with fear.
She was losing him all over again, and this time it hurt even more.

‘So you love me, huh? So what? What does that mean anyway?
Words are empty unless you’ve got the guts to back up the words with action,
Jones. Got any action, sweetheart?’

Ross looked at her for a long time and when she didn’t speak
again sent her a look full of disappointment.

‘Didn’t think so.’

He clicked his fingers and Pic stood up and sent her a longing
look. At least
he
seemed sorry to leave her
behind.

Ally watched his broad back walk away from her and a surge of
anger pumped up from her belly and heated her veins. Without thought she hurtled
across the sand and punched him in the shoulder. Ross took a half-step forward
before spinning around.

‘What the hell, Jones...?’

Ally felt the heat in her face, down her throat, mottling her
throat. For good measure she let her fist fly into his shoulder again, just to
make damn sure he was paying attention. ‘You want action? You want proof that I
love you?’

‘It would be nice,’ Ross replied, rubbing the spot where she’d
punched him. ‘And don’t hit me again!’

‘Proof? Well, okay, then. Does packing up my stuff and renting
out my apartment count?’

Ross’s eyes half closed and his entire body went on alert. ‘It
depends where that luggage is heading.’

‘It’s in storage at the moment, waiting for me to tell them
where to send it,’ Ally retorted. ‘Okay, let’s try something else out and see
how it fits your definition of—’ she made air quotes with her fingers ‘—
action
. I tried to resign from Bellechier so that I
could come back here to you.’

‘And they didn’t accept your resignation, so you’re stuck with
the job you love above everything else?’ Ross twisted his lips and lifted up his
hand, looking suddenly weary. ‘Look, Ally, until you are actually ready to tell
me that you’re coming back here for good, let’s just table this conversation,
okay?’

‘I’m ready to come back here for good.’

Ross blinked and blinked again, looking confused and adorable.
He ran his hand across his jaw. ‘That’s not funny, Al.’

‘I’m not joking. And if you gave me a minute to explain,
instead of just jumping to conclusions, then we could stop talking and start
kissing—and I
really
want to get to the kissing
part.’

Humour, relief, anticipation finally sparked in his eyes, so
Ally let out the breath she was holding and took his right hand in both of
hers.

‘Sorry, I just need to touch you.’

Ross bent his knees so that he could look directly into her
eyes. ‘Explain, sweetheart,
please
. You’re taking
years off my life here.’

‘Tu es beau. Tu me fascines. Je veux être
avec toi pour toujours. Tu es l’amour de ma vie. Ma chérie tu me fais très
heureux.’

‘Not any clearer...’

‘It’s funny that I can find exactly what I want to say in
French, but in English not so much.’ Ally blew out a breath, frustrated with
herself. ‘All these phrases are running around my head and I can’t adequately
translate them. They don’t work in English.’

‘Well, you’re going to have to try, sweetheart, before I
explode from frustration.’

Ally sucked in her cheeks and lifted emotion-saturated eyes.
‘You are beautiful,’ she whispered softly. ‘I’m passionate about you. I want to
be with you for ever. You are the love of my life. You fascinate me... Not
necessarily in that order.’

Ross placed his forehead against hers. ‘Yeah...that’ll
work.’

‘
Je t’aime
, Ross.’

‘That one I don’t need a translation for.
Je t’aime
back, sweetheart.’

Ally smiled through her tears. ‘As I said, I tried to hand in
my resignation but Luc wouldn’t accept it. He felt that I could work from here
and spend a week in Geneva every six weeks or so. I’d need an office, a
high-speed internet connection, a laptop...’

Ross straightened and rested his other hand on her hip. ‘Done,
done and done.’

‘And I need
you
. I don’t care about
the job if I have you.’ Ally wrinkled her nose. ‘Well, I do a little bit—’

Ross chuckled. ‘A little bit?’

‘Okay, a lot. But not if it means being alone, being without
you,’ Ally said, staring at her smaller hand in his.

Then she started to spill her soul.

‘I don’t want to work fourteen-hour days and go home to an
empty apartment. I want to work six-hour days and play with your dog while you
surf. I want to learn to cook so that we can drink wine in the kitchen together
as we make our meals. I want to listen to you tell me about your day and your
crazy staff and I want to do the same. I want to walk upstairs with you at
night, make delicious love with you and fall asleep to the sound of your heart
thumping beneath my ear. I want to love you. I want to be loved by you.’

Ross pulled her into him. ‘You’ve got it, darling. All of that
and more.’

He stared down into her face for a long time, still drinking
her in.

‘I can’t believe you are here.’ He held her narrow face in his
large hands and ran his thumbs across her bottom lip.

‘Is this when the kissing starts?’ Ally demanded, laughing at
him.

‘This is when everything starts, my darling,’ Ross replied, his
heart thumping. ‘You...me...our lives. I love you.’

Ally sighed, closing her eyes in pleasure at his words. ‘I love
you. I’ve never said that to anyone before.’

‘Well, I like it that I’m the first man you’ve said it to, but
I intend to be the last man you say it to.’

Ally shook her head. ‘No... I mean, you don’t understand. My
dad never told me he loved me andy while the Bellechiers say it with impunity,
I’ve never been able to say those words. I was always too...scared.’

Ross’s arms held her firm against his chest. ‘Don’t ever be
afraid to say them—to me or to them. It’s a pretty powerful phrase.’

Ally listened to his heartbeat, content to stand on the light,
bright, sunny beach. ‘How did it go with your dad? I wanted to ask you,
but—’

Ross tipped her head up with a finger under her chin. ‘We’ll
talk later... I think it’s high time the kissing began.’

Ross started at the corner of her mouth and felt the tilt of
her lips as she smiled, felt the last little eddies of tension swirl away as his
hands ran over her shoulders, down her arms, up her sides. Holding her ribcage
with both hands, he spread his fingers so that his thumbs brushed her nipples
and they immediately flowered under his attention. Her tongue met his in a long,
lust-soaked tangle and he went from hard to concrete in a nanosecond.

She was back in his arms, in his life, for good, for ever, and
it felt more than right.

It felt like perfection.

‘Let’s go back to your place,’ she suggested, desperate to get
her hands on him.

Ross shook his head and lifted her chin so that she looked
directly into his love-soaked, passionate eyes.

‘From now on there is no your place or my place; we’re in this
together. It’s all ours, sweetheart. You and me...’

‘And Pic,’ Ally added quickly, her hand on his head.

‘And Pic.’