Salvation (8 page)

I turned and found Nate watching me from the top of the few steps.
“
It
’
s breathtaking.
”

He made his way down and slid the doors open the width of the room. My breath caught on a gust of salty sea air, whilst the sound of crashing surf joined the rush of breeze in my ears.

“
Let me show you around.
”
Nate smiled proudly, his hand settling on my lower back and guiding me to another curved staircase. He glanced up, his wayward thoughts written across his face.
“
Go ahead.
”

Despite my reluctance to head upstairs with him, I couldn’t stop myself from sashaying my hips as I climbed ahead of him.

“
Behave,
”
he gently admonished with a smile when I let him pass me. I grinned at being proved right. He was checking out my arse.

“
Guest bedrooms.
”
Nate pointed at two closed doors off a mezzanine hallway then opened a door directly in front of us and walked in.
“
That
’
s my closet
…
bathroom
…
and this,
”
he said as the room opened up,
“
is my bedroom.
”
An inviting huskiness now laced his voice. He propped against the wall, ankles and arms crossed, observing me keenly as I cautiously stepped further into the master suite.

The colour scheme extended throughout the house, making a seamless transition from space to space. Vintage framed surf magazine covers hung on the far wall, their muted tones of green, blue and white drawing the scenery from outside into the room. An armchair and matching ottoman sat parallel to the windows with a sky-blue blanket neatly folded over the back. It looked the ideal place for lazy daydreams.

I glanced across at his huge bed, draped in a slate grey cover and positioned on a stunning hand-woven rug to face the windows. The light grey button back headboard gave it a classic, masculine feel. I found myself blushing as I imagined Nate in it, and tried not to think of all the women who had joined him as I edged to the windows.

“
What an incredible view to wake up to.
”
I flattened my palm on the warm, tinted glass.

“
Absolutely.
”
The mesmerising tone of his voice captured my attention. His eyes glistened, watching me intently, his mouth hinting at a smile. I got the distinct impression we weren
’
t agreeing about the same thing. I stepped away from the window and pressed my palm to my cheek, feeling it heat again.

“
Shall we?
”
he asked, shoving off the wall towards me.

“
Shall we what?
”
I squeaked, panicking as my eyes darted to his bed without warning.

“
Head back downstairs?
”
Nate nodded to the door, my panic amusing him.
“
What did you think I meant?
”

“
Nothing.
”
I hurried past and dashed downstairs to safety.

In the kitchen, Nate grabbed the bag and an ice bucket.
“
Let
’
s go outside.
”

“
Here,
”
I offered, collecting the wine glasses. I followed him through the lounge, down a set of wooden steps off the deck to the garden below. Nate hoisted open a retractable canopy, providing some welcome shade to the patio.

I made my way across the lawn to the edge and was rewarded with the most breathtaking vista. Stretching across the entire bay area, all the way round to rugged cliffs on the right, I could only gaze in awe at the view.

“
What do you think?
”
Nate appeared by my side.

“
It
’
s incredible.
”

“
Isn
’
t it?
”
He took the glasses out of my hands and strolled back to the patio.

As I followed, I noticed something in the far corner of the garden.
“
Is that a spa?
”

“
Yeah.
”
He paused, glancing back over his shoulder, a naughty glint in his eyes.
“
You wanna use it?
”
It was asked so innocently, but I was certain his thoughts were far from pure.

“
I don
’
t have my bikini.
”

He sat on the large outdoor sofa.
“
And that
’
s an issue
…
how
?
”
A wolfish grin curled his lips.

My eyes narrowed.
“
This is supposed to be a casual
non-date
, Mr Blake.
”

“
Call it what you want, Kara,
”
he shrugged,
“
but it
’
s only the two of us here. I won
’
t tell if you don
’
t.
”
Grinning at my pursed lips as I joined him, he unpacked some crackers, a selection of antipasto, cheeses, and a platter of grapes and cantaloupe melon on the table.

“
This looks delicious. Thank you.
”

“
It
’
s not dinner.
”
He cocked his head to one side.
“
Help yourself.
”
He stood and took a bottle of white from a drinks refrigerator beneath the decking.
“
Wine?
”

“
Please.
”
Nate poured me a glass of Pinot Grigio and a smaller one for himself.
“
I can get a taxi later if you want a drink,
”
I offered, realising he
’
d have to drive me home.

“
I know my limits,
”
he murmured.
“
I
’
m taking you home tonight. You
’
re not running away from me again.
”

It was a warning. One that irritated me until I conceded in a sense, I
’
d done precisely that. Hesitantly, I raised my glass to meet his.

“
Cheers,
”
we said in unison as we touched glasses. The wine was delicious, crisp and refreshing. I accepted the cracker topped with a wedge of cheese Nate handed me with a shy smile. My stomach had settled, hunger pangs now replacing the nervous butterflies.

“
Have you lived here long?
”
I took a bite and moaned as the cheese melted in my mouth.

“
Almost a year. It was the first and only place I viewed. I bought it immediately.
”
As you do when you
’
re a millionaire
.
“
The peace and privacy sold it for me.
”
He tipped his chin towards the ocean.
“
You can
’
t get to the beach unless you live here.
”

I could see why he
’
d fallen in love; it really was stunning, and a great place to relax from the stresses of life.

“
How about you,
”
he asked,
“
you get to the beach much?
”

“
Last weekend I went rollerblading along the track at Santa Monica with a friend.
”
My backside still hurt from the sprawling fall I had on the concrete as Mai and I fooled around.
“
She gets these crazy ideas sometimes.
”

Nate laughed, popping an olive into his mouth. My eyes were drawn to his lips. His mouth was very enticing. I rubbed my stomach, hoping to settle the butterflies as I watched his cheekbones accentuating with each movement. I recalled the other night, and the yearning I had to feel his stubble brushing against my cheek again.

“
Living in London, I never really got to the beach very often,
”
I said, reaching for my glass.

“
I hear there
’
re some nice ones. I
’
ve only been to Newquay.
”

“
Surfing?
”
I asked, casting my mind back to the boards in the garage.

His smile was shy and unpretentious as he nodded and picked up the bottle to refill my glass.
“
I love England,
”
he stated.
“
I visit our office two or three times a year, inevitably returning with far too many pieces. I can
’
t resist. The art, history, music
…
women.
”
I took a large breath of air, unable to break away from his hypnotic gaze.
“
One in particular has definitely captured my attention
…”
his soft voice trailed off as he faced the ocean.

With my heart in my throat, desperate to escape my body, I coughed and gulped down half the wine in my glass. For the next hour, we shared stories about England, discovering what we enjoyed and missed. It highlighted how alike we were and how similar our tastes were.

“
You have some stunning artwork.
”

Nate lounged back into the cushions, tucking both hands behind his head.
“
You
’
re into art?
”

“
Some.
”
I shifted so he wasn
’
t talking to my back and tucked one leg under me.
“
I love stills and candid pictures, images that stimulate your imagination. It
’
s fascinating how two people can see the same image and interpret it in completely different ways.
”

Nate flashed a broad smile.
“
Now I understand why my pictures captured your eye.
”

I flushed.
“
I have to confess, my real passion lies in vintage fashion.
”

“
Fashion is an art form, Kara.
”

“
I suppose.
”
I shrugged, stroking the curve of my hoop earring.
“
I enjoy scouring the thrift stores and markets and unearthing hidden gems.
”

“
Indulging in pursuits that bring you pleasure is good for the soul.
”
He smiled a secret smile, one that had me wondering what he was thinking.
“
You
’
ve got a great sense of style. Classic, sophisticated and elegant,
”
he continued, straightening. Hearing that from him, the most sartorially blessed man I
’
d ever met, was a real compliment.

“
You
’
ve got great legs though.
”
He grinned.
“
You should definitely get those out more.
”

I rolled my eyes playfully, fighting a smile. After spending time with a man who succeeded in making me view my body as nothing to be proud of, I was unaccustomed to hearing it praised.

Nate reached for his glass, inadvertently brushing my bent knee with his arm. A tremor ran through me when he sipped his wine, never breaking eye contact as he lowered the glass and licked his lips, collecting the remaining drop with his tongue.

“
What
’
s keeping you busy at the moment?
”
Nate brought the direction of the conversation back to safety, for which I was grateful as I found my skin heating with embarrassment and some other warmth that definitely wasn
’
t coming from the sun.

“
I
’
ve recently finished the brand valuation for the Galaxy sponsorship, and I
’
m nearing completion on the amended business case financials for the Star Airlines work.
”

His bright expression morphed into one of displeasure, as though I
’
d mentioned something I shouldn
’
t have, yet I had no idea what.
“
Have you always worked in Commerce?
”

“
No. I graduated, got a job with Morgan Sanders in London, and qualified with them.
”

His brows shot up.
“
They
’
re one of the most prestigious accounting companies in the world.
”
Even though he seemed surprised, he sounded quite impressed. Feeling awkward, I shrugged in agreement.

Each year, only ten places were available for the highly respected graduate programme. I was ecstatic when I got one of them. So it was double the guilt when I handed in my notice two weeks after gaining my professional qualification.

“
Why give up a promising career in the financial sector to come here?
”

Crap
. I walked into this one.
“
I just fancied a change.
”

Nate studied me, intrigued.
“
Intelligence
and
beauty
—
that
’
s a lethal combination.
”
His eyes clouded, narrowing as they ran over me, his lips parting to allow for his deep inhalation of air.

The sultry perusal made me feel naked, like he
’
d scorched all my clothes off with the glow from his eyes. That warmth I
’
d previously experienced seemed like a chill compared to the heat now blazing throughout my body.

Abruptly, Nate stood.
“
Let
’
s go for a walk.
”

WE kicked off our shoes and made our way down a narrow strip of sand weaving through a sloping scrub embankment to the beach below. It was quiet, with only a few people enjoying the late afternoon sun.

I glanced sideways, watching Nate take lazy strides along the wet sand, leaving footprints waiting to be washed away by the foam occasionally lapping at our feet. I was too wrapped up in the moment to care if my jeans got wet. He appeared happy and content, comfortable in his own skin. Something I hadn
’
t been for a long time.