After All - Part Fifty One

Chapter Fifty One

When Dylan stepped back into the lounge the front door was falling closed. He was alone. Sighing he looked back at the breakfast trays laid out, he was starving. Without sitting, he demolished half of the contents, then made for the shower.

Matilda had managed to grab a croissant on her way back to her room, she rued leaving that delicious breakfast behind, but she wasn’t sure how long she’d feel like a goddess...because that’s what she’d felt as she swanned out of the villa leaving him gasping. Now, she was starving and a little frustrated. Despite her insistence that they took things slowly, for a moment, his bare chest had filled her eyes, the pressure of his obvious excitement against her pelvis and she’d wanted to back him into the bedroom and show him exactly how she felt. But that wasn’t sensible. So she’s left.

And now, she was hungry and frustrated. She laughed as she packed the straw bag that she was taking to the beach, sunscreen, her book, money and a towel, then she wrapped her still damp body up into a sarong.

On the beach she spotted a spare sun bed in the shade of a palm tree, then spread out her towel on it. She’d enjoyed a few days in the sun relaxing after a week in Bangkok, which had been more than hectic, and there was no better place to relax than the idyllic beaches on the Thai coast. She’d brought half a dozen books in the airport, and so far had read three; the current one, a thriller was absorbing, within seconds she was on the back streets of London, in the criminal underworld, and holding her breath.

The shadow casting across her warm body, blocking out the sun caused her to jump, and it was accompanied by a warm, deep chuckle. Squinting against the sun, she peered through her sunglasses to see Dylan wearing just a pair of board shorts, looking divine. She couldn’t remember seeing him look so stunning, so casual, so relaxed.

He pulled a sun bed next to her, then waved to one of the waiters who were standing discreetly around the beach area.

He ordered a coffee, then reclined next to her.

Dylan couldn’t help but keep glancing at Matilda. She was stretched out beside him in that damn attractive bikini all warm tanned flesh, and he was struggling to keep a hold on his lecherous libido. Since he’d arrived beside her other than a quick smile she’d been absorbed by her book. He didn’t know what he’d expected, but he hadn’t anticipated her practically ignoring him. He sipped at his coffee and wished he’d brought a book with him, not that he’d read a book in years. In fact it was years since he’d had nothing to do. He wasn’t someone who took time to relax. And his whole mind body were pumping, partly because things weren’t exactly clear with the beautiful woman reclined beside him, and his background worries of all that he’d left behind.

Suddenly there was movement from beside him, Matilda pulled herself to her full height and threw her book and iPod down on to the bed, then moved towards the sea, sashaying as she cut across the sand, striding straight out into the depths, of the idyllic azure sea.  With a slight glance over her shoulder, she smiled before disappearing under a wave.

Was that an invitation? The glance was if the wiggle wasn’t. With a groan of frustration he jumped to his feet he was after her within seconds, as he caught up with her a few metres out from the sand, he stood in front of her, “what was all that arse wiggling when you walked out here? One minute you’re telling me to keep my distance, to take things slowly, then you throw that in my face! I’m only human.”

She chuckled, leaning close to him, lips poised. He sighed, closing his eyes, lowering his lips to meet hers...but nothing happened, instead he both heard and felt a splash a few feet away and opening his eyes, he saw her feet as she disappeared like a water nymph away from him. He could only watch as she disappeared into the swell of the warm sea, arms cutting through the water in long strong strokes.  He’d walked straight into that! Rolling his eyes, he set off in hot pursuit.

They both swam seriously eating up the water as they moved along, parallel to the shore. The beach wasn’t deserted, but it wasn’t busy either, and when they finally waded into the shallows, Matilda pulled herself to her feet, wiping the salt water from her face, squeezing her hair.

                “So that was funny was it?”

He asked as he pulled himself up next to her, for a moment she was floored by how amazing he looked, water coursing off his toned body, stubble gathering on his chin, twinkle in his hooded eyes. But she wanted him to prove his love, it was so important that they took things steady, and she wasn’t about to give in to the temptation of this man. Not yet.  

                “What?” She asked innocently, and as he lifted his eyebrow, she turned with a giggle and started the stroll back through the channel. As she looked around appreciating the beauty of the view, a large hand linked into hers. The contact made her heart skip a beat, and as she looked up at him, he grinned awkwardly.

                “Is this allowed?”

She nodded, “I think so.”

She took a few steps and looked up at him, “how did the Marshall Taylor conference go?”

Dylan stopped and stared at her, “really? We are in a foreign paradise; I have told you I was wrong, professed my undying love for you...and YOU? You want to talk about work?”

She giggled, “I was worried about what I left behind.”

                “Like I told you, everyone is in your fan club, it happened without fault, and if there had been a problem, then it would have landed very firmly at my door. Ok?”

She grinned, “good!” She paused for a moment, then looked up at him again, “how long are you here for?”

He laughed, “a week, two...how long do I need?”

She pondered that for a moment deliberately, “that all depends.”

Dylan groaned he now knew this was her tactic, to frustrate him and it was working. The only solution was to create an environment where she couldn’t avoid him, and more importantly couldn’t evade the talk she so desperately wanted. He entertained her general conversation, smiled appropriately, but when they got back to the sun beds they’d left, Matilda made a great demonstration of lying down, reaching for her book. Dylan stood at the end of the bed and smiled.

                “I’ve got some work to do. I’ll pick you up at seven. Dress for dinner.”

Then with a mock bow, he disappeared.

Matilda watched him walk away and wondered what he was thinking. She wanted some sort of grand gesture, some sign that he wanted this as much as her. She’d gone easy on him earlier, he looked as devastated by everything that had happened as she did, but she needed something...a sign...a hint that he was ready to change, ready to take her on. Now as he moved away he was either fed up that things weren’t as simple as easy as they way he lived his life, or he was digesting her forced distance.

And she didn’t know which...that was half the problem.

She tried to read her book, but her mind was suddenly preoccupied, with everything else. Dylan would quite easily move her lock stock and barrel back into his bedroom, his life, and to him it was that easy. But it wasn’t for her. But what did she want?

She wanted time, she wanted talks, she wanted to be able to know exactly what he was thinking when he walked away from her. If he was about to dedicate his future to her, then she wanted to know him inside out. The man she married eight years earlier was a naive boy, the man who faced her now was just that, a confident successful man, his body had evolved, his mind was different, everything about him was new. And that was the issue; she needed to know him all over again.

And he needed to know her too. She had changed, she’d found anger, scepticism, fear...and loneliness and none of that came easily, and none of it came without changing the fundamentals of the person she was. She knew that she saw the world differently. When Dylan had swept her off her feet she’d been innocent, honest, and naive herself. Now? She was none of those things.

But you want still him!

The voice inside her made a statement, not a question, because she DID want him, she wanted him more than anything. But she had some terms that she wanted him to meet, she just had to figure out what they were, or they’d both circle around each other never making a decision or a step forward.

Dress for dinner he said. She stared at the wardrobe. She’d packed for a trip to her father, that would be casual and fun...since then she’d only added sarongs and loose fisherman pants to her wardrobe, she had nothing that maybe Dylan would deem suitable for dinner, he wasn’t one for doing things by half...she’d asked for a grand gesture, and she’d get it. He wouldn’t fail on that front.

One dress was all she had with her, so she pulled it out, and glared at it, a summery dress, strappy with a loose floaty skirt looked great...IF it hadn’t been rammed in the bottom of a suitcase for two weeks. Hanging it on the back of the bathroom door, she jumped in the shower, hoping that the steam might help iron out some of the creases. But she was warm from a day in the sun, the last thing she needed was more heat.

But moisturised, hair dried and straightened in to some semblance of a style and she felt better. The dress was serviceable, but she prayed he hadn’t planned anything TOO exotic; she would look out of place. She hadn’t warn make up for weeks, and wasn’t ready to start tonight, so she used a little mascara, that was all.

He was early. She had barely slid her feet into her sandals and there was a knock at the door.

Dylan held his breath. Everything that mattered seemed to be mounted up in the next few hours. He’d blown things repeatedly to date. Could he possibly get things right tonight? He’d spent hours on the phone and emailing Brandy, when things went wrong she was the only one he could trust, and her frantic internet searches and phone calls had made it a little easier to deal with. In the end he’d taken her advice to the letter and had booked them into the best restaurant in town, one of the lounges at the huge Hilton resort. Dinner on his veranda would have been far more in keeping with what he wanted, but he also knew there was a high chance of him either pouncing on her, or exploding...both would blow any chance he had.

Instead he was stood at her door in linen trousers and a pale blue summer shirt, hoping that the heat would ease as his decision to “dress for dinner” was looking like being a hot option.

As he knocked the door, he wondered if she was as nervous as he was.