ANNA SQUINTED AT the bright light seeping from behind the heavy curtains and wondered who was thumping on the wall, but when she rolled onto her back, she realized that the pounding was in her head.
She sat up groaning, both from the appalling headache and from the humiliation of her behaviour the night before.
She grabbed the glass of water on the bedside table with shaky hands, and drank it down gratefully, even happier to find that Nick had left her two ibuprofen to kick-start the healing process.
She was so furious that she’d wasted their first night together by getting drunk. Oh, she’d had such plans!
At that moment, the hotel door opened and Nick walked into the room. He was shirtless and sweat glistened on his tanned skin, making the tattoos seem to shimmer and coil around his body.
A t-shirt dangled from one hand and he wore running shoes on his feet. He looked amazing. He looked perfect.
And Anna felt frazzled and a lot less than perfect.
Nick gave her a sympathetic smile and sat down next to her. He smelled of sweat and the sea, and she saw salt drying on his calves and thighs.
“Why are you with me?” she blurted out.
Nick cocked his head on one side as if he didn’t understand the question. Then he frowned, his honey-coloured eyes narrowing as he gazed at her.
He could have asked her why she was asking, or gotten annoyed that her self-esteem kept questioning his commitment, but he didn’t.
“Because I love you,” he said, his voice deep and serious. “Because each morning I wake up and remember that you’re wearing my ring and that I’m a lucky bastard, and each night I go to sleep knowing that I’ve met the woman I want to spend the rest of my life with.” He paused. “Is that what you wanted to know?”
Anna nodded, dumbstruck. Nick wasn’t the most effusive of people, but sometimes…
“Yes, that’s … fine,” she said weakly.
Nick dropped a soft kiss onto her lips, stood up and gave her a wink as he kicked off his running shoes, dropped his shorts and sauntered butt naked into the bathroom.
Anna didn’t stop smiling for the rest of the day.
She and Brendan sat at the back of the exhibition hall where the Mr. XCess menswear designers were showing their collection.
As the lights dimmed and ’s music blared out, Anna clutched Brendan’s hand.
The first man strutting along the catwalk looked as if he’d just strolled in from the surf, his blond hair long and naturally highlighted.
“Oh God, I want to count his abs,” sighed Brendan. “With my tongue!”
“Behave!” Anna laughed.
“I am behaving,” Brendan said huffily. “I haven’t thrown myself at the stage, have I?”
“Not yet,” Anna muttered under her breath.
Next up, two gorgeous men strode along the catwalk, their stunning bodies gleaming—one like polished ebony; the other lighter skinned, a gorgeous caramel colour.
Then three slimmer male models danced onto the stage, and Brendan wasn’t the only one who was on his feet, dancing along.
Then a man with blond dreadlocks sauntered onto the stage and Brendan grabbed Anna’s hand again.
“Do you think he’s gay?”
“I have no idea. Why don’t you ask him?”
Brendan nodded so fast, Anna was worried he’d sprain his neck.
Then her heart lurched and started to gallop as Nick strode onto the stage. Brendan squealed and had to stuff his fists in his mouth to stop shrieking. Anna could hardly draw a breath.
Nick swung his arms lightly, his gaze somewhere in the middle distance. He walked confidently to the end of the catwalk, struck a pose, turned on his heel, and headed back, high-fiving the model who followed him out.
“Oh, Annie! He’s a real model!” Brendan whispered loudly.
This time it was Anna who nodded crazily. She was so proud of him; so proud that his work and commitment had paid off.
She couldn’t stop smiling.
Not even when two women sitting on her other side commented on what a great body he had and how much they loved the ink decorating his body, and then sighed, murmuring how much they wished he was wearing Speedos instead of boardshorts.
Twice more, Nick strode along the catwalk, dark and intense, and then on his very final run when he was joined by all the other models and the designer, he threw a huge smile at the audience, who were clapping and waving.
Anna stood up and cheered with everyone else, happy he was happy, so proud of him.
And later that evening, when a twenty-something model with legs up to her armpits flirted outrageously with Nick and wrapped her arms around his neck as she sat on his knee at an after-party, Anna just raised her eyebrows and swapped an amused look with Brendan as Nick carefully set the woman back on her feet.
The post-catwalk party was the stuff legends are made of. Nick was paid to stand around shirtless, wearing only swimwear and flip flops, while champagne flowed and stunningly beautiful women sauntered around the pool in tiny bikinis or beach wraps, showcasing their peachy asses and round, perfect breasts.
White fairy lights were strung across gazebos, and the sun sank in a cauldron of red and orange, the sky catching fire to backlight the whole scene spectacularly.
Brendan was in heaven, attending his first ever luau, drinking cocktails decorated with a mountain of fresh pineapple, cherries, and paper umbrellas, then dancing to Hawaiian-themed tunes and doing his best impression of An Englishman in New York.
The entertainment ranged from Hawaiian melodies being played on a ukulele to a rock band, to a henna artist, tarot card reader, tattoo artist and illusionist, all adding to the noise, colour and sense of heady abandonment.
In the darker corners, cut lines of cocaine were snorted and joints were passed around. Pills were swapped and swallowed, and those flying high danced like there was no one watching.
Anna wasn’t as shocked as Nick had been. While athletes could rarely get away with getting high, it was common in the fringes of the entertainment world. Because of her famous father, she’d been to her share of showbiz parties.
Of course, Anna couldn’t completely get over being ordinary-looking among all the beautiful examples of humanity, but there were enough average-Joes—designers, clients, buyers, business people—so she didn’t feel completely outclassed.
Nick was paid to mingle, and he was also networking, meeting people and making sure they remembered him for future work, but he kept an eye on where Anna was, sending her a private smile or a wink that made her skin hot just thinking about being with him later, in private, with no eyes on them.
She sipped her cocktail and gazed around, observing the colourful mass of humanity. It was so different from the rugged world of rugby that Nick had inhabited successfully for so long, and yet, against the odds, he also fit in here.
Although she wanted him home in London, if his career meant a permanent move back to New York, she’d do it in a heartbeat. It also meant that her mom was a short drive away instead of a seven-hour flight.
As long as they were together, they’d work it out.
She hoped.
Nick found it hard to concentrate at this final party when Anna was nearby, looking stunning in a pale blue dress that seemed to float over her curves, sweet and innocent compared to those blood red lips that had taunted him all evening. Every time she sipped her drink, sucking the cocktail through a straw, Nick felt his groin tighten impatiently. His iron will had never been tested more as he stood around making small talk with people he’d probably never see again.
Two hours later, he was off the clock.
Brendan had already disappeared, so Nick pulled on a t-shirt, grabbed Anna and jumped in the first taxi they could find.
She laughed happily.
“Are we in a hurry?”
His answer was short and gruff.
“Yes.”
A smile curved her lips and she leaned against him as the taxi rushed through the night.
Once they reached their hotel room, Nick wanted to feel everything. He wanted to be with his fiancée again.
The need inside him was volcanic and urgent.
“We have all night,” she whispered, wrapping her arms around his neck and trailing her tongue up the broad column of his neck.
Nick’s answer was to slide her dress up her thighs and over her head, then toss her onto the bed so she gasped with surprise.
His heavy cock pressed against her and this time they both groaned.
Fast, furious love-making led to slow, soft words as the night crept around them, until finally, finally they were at peace.