To Love, Honour and Disobey by Natalie Anderson Read Free Book Online Page B

laughed too. ‘I know it’s mad.’
    ‘What made you wear them yesterday?’
    She shrugged. Not wanting to admit it had been because of him.
    ‘You should wear them more.’
    She couldn’t stop her smile then. ‘I’ve got some with even higher heels.’
    ‘No way.’
    She nodded and told him of some of her other insane purchases. Loved his grin, loved his questions and his belief in the idea. They talked for hours, halfway through the night. Until everyone around them was asleep except poor Bundy driving in the cab in the front.
    And then they didn’t talk any more. There was just that slow burning awareness as the truck drove on, the noise of the engine rough and loud in the wide, still night. Eventually she moved—forced herself to get away. Lay on the bagged tents that had been stacked in the aisle and stretched out—the most comfortable spot on the truck. The tarpaulin roof was still pulled back and she had the most incredible view of the stars, watching the lights that were moving—satellites or space junk or something. It was so dark she could barely make out the shadow of the other passengers. But of one thing she was certain. He was watching her.
    Man, it was hot—since the second the sun had started to rise its power had been extreme. It didn’t help that Seb was now sitting in the seat next to the aisle and Ana’s long tanned legs were swinging down beside him from where she was perched back up on the crossbars that supported the tarpaulin covering. The drive through the night had nearly been the death of him. While he’d enjoyed how they’d talked, he wished like hell they’d been alone—or were alone now. Then he’d tug on that delectably fine-boned ankle and pull her down, kiss her as he’d been dreaming of kissing herfor days. Watching her rest on the bagged tents in the wee small hours, he’d fantasised about the kind of mattress they’d make if only they were alone. If only she’d say yes. If only they weren’t bloody married and had enough mess between them already.
    The frustration was driving him crazy. There had been no one since her. And now he realised he wanted no one but her. But it would be beyond stupid. They’d muddied their lives enough with what they’d done the last time they’d given into temptation. They wanted different things—she wanted the whole happy-ever-after commitment bit and he just wanted fun and carefree. Problem was he only wanted to do fun with her.
    Dar es Salaam came into view. Finally. Big and busy and when would the damn boat arrive to take them to Zanzibar? Seb was over the whole budget tourist thing. Of course he could stop here—ditch the truck and its passengers and go on his own road. But he couldn’t bring himself to. Not now the fire had been lit in him once more. He’d remain a slave to temptation—bitten by the bug. He was enjoying her company too much to walk away just yet. And there was that hint of hope, wasn’t there? He could see that look in her eye. So he couldn’t leave.
    It felt like for ever but finally Ana got off the boat and onto the island of Zanzibar. She needed to rest. The lack of sleep she’d had last night was messing with her reason and she was thinking things she really shouldn’t.
    Tempting things. Wicked things.
    Ever since he’d told her to stay away she’d felt the desire to do the exact opposite. So she climbed intothe waiting Jeep, moved along so he could sit beside her and they were taken away from the bustling Stone Town to one of the beaches on the far side of Zanzibar.
    There were four bandas—huts—in a row and then another four behind those. The rest of the budget resort consisted of a large open-air bar/restaurant and an open-top toilet and shower facility. Basic at best. But so incredibly beautiful.
    She walked into the banda that had been assigned to her and Seb. An A-frame made of wood and palm, its only furniture four built-in cot-like beds—bare wooden frames with canvas stretching over