Page 4 of The Naughty Week
My excitement ramps up to a whole other level once our feet hit the ground in Cannes. The airport is buzzing, and I feel like a kid at a fairground as I take Josh’s hand – practically bouncing along at his side to get our luggage. The warmth of the French sun bathes us in pure bliss when we step outside to find our driver waiting, holding up aJosh and Ellasign. I want to dash on over with a squeal, but Josh squeezes my hand a little tighter.
“Relax. We’re just regular holidaymakers, remember?”
I stare up at him through my sunglasses, admiring how hot he looks in his. He’s like a secret agent when it comes to anonymity, and an uber professional when it comes to playing it cool. He’s so concerned for Heath’s privacy that it radiates from him hotter than the sun.
That’s it. Of course it is. His main driving factor right now.
He’s protective of Heath.
“Relax?” I say. “Regular holidaymakers can be out of their minds with excitement, no? So come on, show you’re excited, just a little. It’ll look weirder if you’re not.”
He smiles at that, and I’ve got him. He’s buzzing just as hard as I am, he’s just got a thicker shell, and it’s actually a great thing to see. I love the protective side of Josh. I love how determined he is to protect the people close to him at all costs.
“Ok. You’re right,” he says. “Kudos to you for the rationale. Go on, Ella. Let rip. We’re happy holidaymakers, after all.”
“Let’s go!” I say, and with that I wheel my case at lightning speed towards the waiting car, giggling all the way.
Heath has kept it low key with the transport. The driver is friendly with a suavebonjouras he lugs our cases into the back, and his car is great, but it’s hardly a limo with blacked out windows. It’s just a cab, ready to take us to a flash villa that could belong to anyone.
Who cares who thatanyonehappens to be?
I catch sight of the sea on the way there, pointing it out to Josh with fervour.
“I love the sea,” I tell him. “It’s one of my favourite things, you know? Sandy beaches, and ocean waves. Drives me crazy.”
“Yes. I do know. And moonlight shining down as they crash.” Josh’s smirk rises on one side. “It’samazing, I know. Just bear in mind, we might not make it there. Not this time. We might be too busy.”
“Spoilsport,” I laugh. “I hope I get to at least dip my toes.”
I’m grinning wide when our final destination comes into view up ahead. The huge gates swing open automatically and the cab pulls into the driveway, and woah… this place. Heath’s villa is nothing like the gothic paradise he’s constructed out of bricks and mortar back in London. There are no black edged windows, or gothic archways, and no dark gravel lining the driveway. This is one of those white, square, modern wonders of a construction – three storeys high with balconies and terraces on every floor. And huge windows. So many huge windows!
I raise my sunglasses and give awowas the cab leaves and the gates close behind it, blocking the view of the road. The huge floor to ceiling windows of the villa’s second floor reflect the sun beautifully, and I just about get sight of an infinity pool, glowing pastel blue. It must look right out onto the sea, I can see it from here. And that’s not surprising, seeing as the villa itself is just a stone’s throw away from it… a few small steps from Heath’s place onto the sandy shore.
Who knows? Maybe I will get the sand under my feet. Even for just one token dash across the beach.
“This is gorgeous,” I say to Josh. “Absolutely fucking gorgeous.”
“Just like it’s owner.” Josh is looking around, scouting the place, but he isn’t admiring the infinity pool, or the closeness of the beach like I am, he’s scoping out the perimeter. A tall hedge lines the border, and the windows are reflective. Nobody will be staring in.
With that, I hear the front door open, and our host yellsWelcome to Paradise!
My heart leaps when my eyes land on Heath, because his beauty puts the surroundings to shame. Even though he’s barefoot in a plain black t-shirt and shorts, with his hair scooped up into a messy bun, he knocks the breath right out of my lungs.
It’s Josh who steps forward first, holding out a hand before Heath pulls him in for a hug. You’d think they were long term buddies from the outside, with ahey, great to see you!But they hold each other too tightly for college friends – pressed chest to chest and swaying together just a little too long.
Then it’s my turn.
“Hello, my darlingcurva,” Heath says, with a dashing smile, and my legs feel bandy as he pulls me close.
Curvais my pet name now, playing on Heath’s vamp character’s native tongue. Curva means slut, and I’ll be his darlingcurvaany day of the week, which works just great considering I am going to be his darlingcurvaevery single day of this one.
Heath takes my case as Josh takes his, and even though this villa is a completely new environment to me, I’m feeling relaxed from the moment we step over the threshold.
Heath’s character screams loud, even though the villa is neutral cream and airy in decor. He has a few black abstract pieces of art up on the walls, sure, and a humorous black gloss voodoo doll knife block on the kitchen counter. But more than that, it’s him. He doesn’t need the decor to radiate his personality through the building, his energy does that all on its own.
“Lunchtime drinks?” he asks. “Beer and lime?”
He knows we like those.
