fabulous listener. He listened intently and knew when to back away from the subject to give the guts-spiller some time to compose themselves.
Ellie caught his slight wince as he walked back down the stairs and she shook her head at him. ‘For goodness’ sake—will you sit down before you fall down?’
Jack’s strong eyebrows pulled together. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Jack, you’re not fine. You’re exhausted and your body is protesting. Take a seat in the lounge, watch some TV. Do you want something to drink?’
Jack raked his hand through his hair. ‘Nothing, thanks. Mind if I veg out on the veranda for a while?’
‘Knock yourself out,’ Ellie said. ‘I’ll plate up the Chinese.’
‘Hey, El?’ Jack called.
Ellie poked her head around the kitchen door. ‘Yes?’
Jack rattled off an Arabic curse and Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘Something...something donkey. Sorry...what?’
‘I just called your ex a bleeping-bleeping horse’s bleeping ass.’
Ellie laughed. Nice, Jack.
* * *
After supper they headed back to the veranda and watched as dusk fell over the long coastline. Lights winked on as they sipped their red wine, sharing the couch with their bare feet up on the stone wall. Jack placed his arm along the back of the couch and Ellie felt his fingers in her hair. She turned to look at him but Jack was watching her hair slide between his fingers.
‘It’s so straight, so thick.’
Ellie felt his hands tug the band from her hair and felt the heavy drop as her hair cascaded down her back, could imagine it flowing over Jack’s broad hand. She heard his swift intake of breath, felt his fingers combing her hair.
‘I love the coloured streaks. They remind me of the flash of colour in a starling’s wing.’
There was that creative flair again—this time with words. And there was that sexual buzz again. Ellie licked her lips. ‘They’re not my real hair.’
‘Still pretty.’ Jack lifted a strand of her hair and because it was so long easily brought it to his nose. ‘Mmm...apple, lemon...flour.’
Ellie could not believe that she was so turned on by a man sniffing her hair. ‘Jack...’
His eyes deepened, flooded with gold. He drifted the ends of her hair over his lips before dropping it and sliding his big hand around her neck. ‘Yeah?’
Ellie dropped her eyes. ‘We weren’t going to do this, remember?’
‘Shh, nothing is going to happen,’ Jack said.
He dropped his arm behind her back, wrapped it around her waist and pulled her so that she was plastered against his hard body. Ellie swung around and rested her head against his chest, deeply conscious of his warm arm under her breasts.
‘Did you submit your piece on that Somalian pirate-slash-warlord?’ Ellie asked, to take her mind off the fact that she wanted to move his hands to more deserving areas of her body. Her breasts, the backs of her knees, between her legs.
‘Yes. I didn’t get as much information from him as I wanted to, but it was okay.’
‘Have you worked out what you said that set him off?’
She felt Jack shake his head. ‘Nah. I think he was high...and psychotic.’
‘That might be it.’ Ellie rested her hands on his arm, feeling the veins under his skin. ‘Tell me about yourself. Mother? Father? Siblings?’
‘Like you, I was an only child. I’m not sure why,’ Jack replied.
Ellie half smiled. ‘Tell me what you were like as a kid.’
She felt him stiffen at her question. ‘At what age?’
Strange question. ‘I don’t know...ten?’
Jack’s laugh rumbled through his chest. ‘Hell on wheels. Maybe that’s why my folks didn’t have another kid. They probably despaired in case they’d have another boy.’
Ellie laughed. ‘You couldn’t have been that bad.’
‘I was worse. Before I was eight I’d broken a leg, had three lots of stitches and lost most of my teeth.’
Ellie’s mouth fell open. ‘How on earth did you manage to do that?’
‘The broken leg came from ramping with my
Ellie caught his slight wince as he walked back down the stairs and she shook her head at him. ‘For goodness’ sake—will you sit down before you fall down?’
Jack’s strong eyebrows pulled together. ‘I’m fine.’
‘Jack, you’re not fine. You’re exhausted and your body is protesting. Take a seat in the lounge, watch some TV. Do you want something to drink?’
Jack raked his hand through his hair. ‘Nothing, thanks. Mind if I veg out on the veranda for a while?’
‘Knock yourself out,’ Ellie said. ‘I’ll plate up the Chinese.’
‘Hey, El?’ Jack called.
Ellie poked her head around the kitchen door. ‘Yes?’
Jack rattled off an Arabic curse and Ellie wrinkled her nose. ‘Something...something donkey. Sorry...what?’
‘I just called your ex a bleeping-bleeping horse’s bleeping ass.’
Ellie laughed. Nice, Jack.
* * *
After supper they headed back to the veranda and watched as dusk fell over the long coastline. Lights winked on as they sipped their red wine, sharing the couch with their bare feet up on the stone wall. Jack placed his arm along the back of the couch and Ellie felt his fingers in her hair. She turned to look at him but Jack was watching her hair slide between his fingers.
‘It’s so straight, so thick.’
Ellie felt his hands tug the band from her hair and felt the heavy drop as her hair cascaded down her back, could imagine it flowing over Jack’s broad hand. She heard his swift intake of breath, felt his fingers combing her hair.
‘I love the coloured streaks. They remind me of the flash of colour in a starling’s wing.’
There was that creative flair again—this time with words. And there was that sexual buzz again. Ellie licked her lips. ‘They’re not my real hair.’
‘Still pretty.’ Jack lifted a strand of her hair and because it was so long easily brought it to his nose. ‘Mmm...apple, lemon...flour.’
Ellie could not believe that she was so turned on by a man sniffing her hair. ‘Jack...’
His eyes deepened, flooded with gold. He drifted the ends of her hair over his lips before dropping it and sliding his big hand around her neck. ‘Yeah?’
Ellie dropped her eyes. ‘We weren’t going to do this, remember?’
‘Shh, nothing is going to happen,’ Jack said.
He dropped his arm behind her back, wrapped it around her waist and pulled her so that she was plastered against his hard body. Ellie swung around and rested her head against his chest, deeply conscious of his warm arm under her breasts.
‘Did you submit your piece on that Somalian pirate-slash-warlord?’ Ellie asked, to take her mind off the fact that she wanted to move his hands to more deserving areas of her body. Her breasts, the backs of her knees, between her legs.
‘Yes. I didn’t get as much information from him as I wanted to, but it was okay.’
‘Have you worked out what you said that set him off?’
She felt Jack shake his head. ‘Nah. I think he was high...and psychotic.’
‘That might be it.’ Ellie rested her hands on his arm, feeling the veins under his skin. ‘Tell me about yourself. Mother? Father? Siblings?’
‘Like you, I was an only child. I’m not sure why,’ Jack replied.
Ellie half smiled. ‘Tell me what you were like as a kid.’
She felt him stiffen at her question. ‘At what age?’
Strange question. ‘I don’t know...ten?’
Jack’s laugh rumbled through his chest. ‘Hell on wheels. Maybe that’s why my folks didn’t have another kid. They probably despaired in case they’d have another boy.’
Ellie laughed. ‘You couldn’t have been that bad.’
‘I was worse. Before I was eight I’d broken a leg, had three lots of stitches and lost most of my teeth.’
Ellie’s mouth fell open. ‘How on earth did you manage to do that?’
‘The broken leg came from ramping with my
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