Page 46 of Taking the Heat

Henry is so very different to Chris. Chris is an all-consuming obsession, the fire under my skin. He makes me feel like flying. The best and happiest I’ve ever felt in my life is in his arms. He might even be the one.

I don’t deserve the way he makes me feel.

But Henry is like a balm; he’s neutral, cancelling out the dark feelings without making my heart twist in guilt over how happy I am. He’s a warm bath, or your favourite pair of jeans. Nice. Not amazing, but nice. And I think I can let myself feel nice, at least for the next two weeks. After that, he’ll be gone anyway, and I can dedicate myself to Ella. Just the way it should be.

I answered him, finally. ‘You’re right. I don’t let myself have a lot of fun. But I think, today might be an exception.’

Henry’s face broke into a sunny smile. ‘Wonderful. I’m so glad. Here, try the brie …’

We ate our lunch and it was simple and good. Henry chatted about his love of wine tasting and I told him about a vodka restaurant I’d been to in St Kilda recently.

With our tummies full, we slathered on sunscreen. I peeled off my skinny jeans and floaty top, enjoying the feel of the sun on my bikini body.

‘Do you want to lie on the netting with me?’ Henry indicated the stretchy net that hung suspended between the two sides of the cat. I nodded, and we crawled out over the water, only the thin elastic strips separating us from the rushing sea below.

Rolling onto my belly, I shielded my eyes from the bright sky, the exact colour of Chris’ eyes.Stop! Don’t torture yourself!Straining to stay in the moment, I asked Henry, ‘So, what’s life like for the seventh in line for the throne of England?’

Henry lay back beside me, squinting and screwing up his nose. ‘It’s … look, I can’t complain. My family oversee a very large estate, and it’s not like I’m coal mining for a living or anything. Most days, I help with the running of the property, attend events, work with charities, that sort of thing.’

He turned his mocha eyes on me, looking more like a puppy dog than ever. ‘But it can be quite lonely. Most of the people I work with are staff, who treat me like I’m actually the King. Then there’s my extended family—you don’t need me to tell you how messy and dysfunctional the monarchy is at the moment.

‘And the media, of course, they are relentless. If I have a drink at an event, I’m an alcoholic. If I speak with a married woman, I’m a home-wrecker. Speak with a man, I’m gay. I can’t ever win.’

He looked so tragic, I wanted to give him a hug. ‘I’m sorry about the press, but I’m sure your staff like you. And, to be honest, everybody has weirdos in their extended family. I have an uncle who thinks he can tell your fortune by inspecting your earwax, and two of my second cousins married each other last year.’

Henry laughed. ‘Gosh, Tara, you are a funny girl. I really like you.’

‘I like you too, Henry.’

‘No, really,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘You’re the first person I’ve met in a long time who likes me forme. And I like you. Do you know how rare that is for someone like me?’

‘I can imagine.’

‘Tara …’ He licked his lips, nervous, like a little boy. ‘I’d like to use a strike with you. Only if you want to, of course, and if you don’t, that’s perfectly understandable—’

I reached for his hand and rolled onto my back. ‘I’d like that too.’ I meant it. Henry doesn’t rock my world like Chris does, but he’s gorgeous and gentle and cares for me. I’ve kissed people for worse reasons.

Henry raised a soft hand to my face and stroked my cheek with his thumb. ‘I think you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met,’ he said sincerely, then moved in for the kiss.

His lips landed on mine, feather light and delicate. He planted several soft kisses around my mouth, while bringing up his second hand up to the other side of my face. Moving forward, he hovered above me, pressing me gently back onto the netting.

As I moved my hands up to Henry’s chest and let my fingers roam around his biceps, I found myself heating up more than expected. There was something about the reverence Henry treated me with which broke through the walls guarding my feelings. Mystified, I gave up trying to figure anything out, and simply enjoyed the way Henry’s breath quickened as I ran my nails down his back.

Breaking the kiss, Henry looked down upon me with wonder. ‘Tara …’

I didn’t want to hear more words. I wanted more of him. Reaching for him, I clasped his shoulders and pulled him back to me. The feeling of his solid mass against me was comforting and when his fingers intertwined with mine, I squeezed them back.

Our lips connected again, but when I pushed towards him, aching for more, Henry moved away, keeping everything light and PG-rated. I wanted to know what his hands would feel like on my skin, aching for sensations to sweep away my logic and stop my stupid brain from overthinking for even a few minutes.

Apparently I was moving a bit too fast for my poor English beau. As I slipped my hands free from his and ran them down to his pert backside, Henry squeaked and shifted away. He caught my wrists and brought my hands to his lips, kissing the pads of my fingers. It was lovely, but if I only had a few chances on this island to make out, I wanted to do it properly.

Leaning up, I caught Henry’s earlobe with my teeth and bit it softly. I felt him go limp under my attention, his ragged moan telling me he wanted more. Pulling the lobe into my mouth further, I sucked on it, while bringing his hands to my breasts.

The second before his fingers made contact with my bikini top, a crew member cleared his throat. ‘Ahem … guys, you’ve got thirty seconds left before you rack up a second strike.’

Groaning in disappointment, I fell back to the netting. Henry looked like he’d just seen the Queen rocking out to Black Sabbath in her underwear.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked.

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