me a lot after Mom died. We’d become close since our sessions had ended, freed from professional restraints to become friends outside hours. So Daisy and her little girl Amy hopped on board as well. And now that numbers were increasing, Daniel invited an old cricket friend of his called Jesse, a British man who was some CEO of something important.
Destination? Bora Bora.
I hadn’t spoken to Daisy for a while, and when I relayed to her all my latest news about The Dark Edge of Love, it turned out that she is Pearl Chevalier’s best friend! So the next thing I knew, Pearl and Alexandre were also coming along to our wedding, their kids and nanny in tow. Then Star felt left out (“you said it was just family and now I see the whole world is muzzling in.”), so she and Jake and their children also made plans to come.
“Now we have to entertain them all,” grumbled Daniel, an eye half open as the morning sunlight streamed into our thatched-roofed bungalow, which sat on stilts on the South Pacific Ocean in this tiny chain of French Polynesian islands. Bora Bora is fringed by a barrier reef of coral, which makes it unique. The air smelled of salt and frangipani and jasmine. A wreath of threaded flowers lay at the bottom of the bed.
“That it will never come again . . . is what makes life so sweet?” I said.
“You and your Emily Dickinson,” Daniel replied sleepily. He pulled me close, wrapping an arm around my shoulder. Our legs were still tangled together, testament to more lovemaking, all through the night. He seemed more insatiable than ever, and I wondered if I could keep up. I was bruised inside and knew I’d been walking around in my bikini a tad self-consciously, remembering the bulk of what had been between my legs—the force of it, the power. The more sex we had, the more Daniel craved. I’d need to take a sabbatical.
His finger touched my clit, incidentally, imperceptibly, tapping me there so lightly my sore and ravaged center could hardly feel it. “I don’t have any more orgasms to give you, Daniel.”
He laughed, a light, sleepy laugh, full of irony. “Oh yes you do.”
He continued playing with me, stroking me, teasing, one hand languidly pinching my nipple, and the other tracing his finger around my core but not on it. Before I knew it, I was willing him to play with that part of me, but he carried on circling me there, avoiding my hard nub, avoiding the part of me that inexplicably begged for another round. My brain was telling me I’d had enough, that my body couldn’t take anymore, that we had guests to think of, a wedding to plan. Okay, the hotel was organizing everything, the flowers, the food et cetera, but still, I had to make choices, needed to decide . . .
“Please,” I heard myself groan.
“You see. You want it just as much, baby.” But he persisted with his tease.
“I’m sore.”
“Good. You can spend the day thinking of me with every step you take.”
“You’ll be watching me,” I joked, quoting a certain song with the same stalkerish lyrics.
“Oh, can’t you see, you belong to me,” he whispered in smart reply. His tantalizing touch was so light, I wasn’t used to the neglect on certain areas of my body. “I’m going to make you come this way, Janie. Without touching any of your vital organs.”
I laughed. “I think that’s impossible.”
“We’ll see.”
His hand trailed up along my belly, lightly tracing the curves of my breasts. My clit tingled and thrummed as Daniel circled each nipple slowly. He pushed me onto my back, tore the sheet away from my body, and I lay expectantly, soothed by the sound of the gentle ocean breeze, the scent of wafting flowers coming and going intermittently, all the more sensual because of my closed eyes.
“Just relax and concentrate on the sound of the waves,” he murmured. “I brought something that will have you begging for more.”
My eyes flew open. “What?”
“Ssh, you mustn’t look, but you can guess when it’s over.”
“When what’s over?” I asked nervously.
“When you’ve come.”
“You’re quite the expert, aren’t you?” I said, my voice laced with irony, although I knew that Daniel was an expert, but I didn’t want him to feel too cocky about it, “cock” being the operative word.
He strode across the room and pulled something from his case. I was so used to seeing him with a massive