Chapter 2

"Well, what do you think of my humble abode?" he asked again, unable to think of anything else to say to fill the silence.

"It's, er, noisy!" she eventually offered, turning from the window to face him.

"Is that it? 'It's noisy'?" he gently mocked, taking a few steps into the room. "You've come all this way to see me, we're in an idyllic location, sun shining, warm seas, ... and all you can come up with is 'It's noisy'?! Nothing else?!"

She perched on the edge of the small writing table which sat under the window, arms folded, studying him. A glimpse of a smile creased one side of her mouth.

"Well, you can lose that shirt for a start," she blurted out.

The look of sudden shock on Teresa's face made Patrick think she hadn't actually meant to say that out loud...he gasped dramatically, looking down at the offending article of clothing he was currently wearing.

"This shirt? What's wrong with it?"

"Where do I start?!"

"It's stylish beachwear."

"It's floral."

"Ok, ok, Lisbon, if you insist, anything to keep you happy."

He sighed heavily, eyes rolling in feigned indignation, as he started undoing his shirt buttons.

"No, I didn't mean..." Teresa stepped towards him, panicked, hand up to stop him. But then, and much to Patrick's own momentary panic, she paused, and instead leant back against the edge of the table again, smiling at him.

"Carry on, then." Her eyes glinted brightly, as she ushered him to continue his undress.

That jolt of heat pulsed through Patrick again, and he felt a sudden and intense need to kiss her. But he didn't, he couldn't risk destroying what friendship they had left. She was just playing with him, wasn't she, a flirtatious game, maybe, but just their old, familiar games. But it took two to play, didn't they say?, and he was the Games Master, after all.

He finished unbuttoning his shirt, dropping it onto the bed behind him.

"There, that better, my dear?" he said, flashing her his best Patrick Jane smile. She was bluffing, he was sure of it, and it was only a matter of moments before he called her on it!

She stood and walked closer to him, taking in his naked torso. He noticed now a steady darkness in her eyes, her face more than a little flushed, and, if he was not mistaken, rather enlarged pupils... She couldn't hold this bluff for long, he thought, and he fully expected her to walk swiftly past him and out the door. Some things never change, he smiled warmly at the thought.

As she reached his side, however, she turned and strolled round behind him. This caught Patrick off guard, but he didn't have time to process it before a trail of warmth surged through him as her fingers lightly traced across his bare shoulders and back. She continued her path until she was back round in front of him again. Her hand rested on his chest, his heart now thumping wildly beneath it.

"Mmm, a little better," she murmured, her eyes fixed intently on his.

"Teresa?" he managed to stutter, his brain racing to catch up with this now very different scenario currently playing out in front him. She was obviously a better poker player than he'd remembered...

He lifted a hand to place it on hers, but she moved her own hand up to his face.

"And the beard, the beard can stay, I like it" she whispered, caressing his jawline with the backs of her fingers.

"OK, the beard stays". His voice cracked as he spoke, his breathing ragged. This was reaching the point of no return. Teresa Lisbon, this better not be a bluff...

He reached up and gently traced a circle with his thumb on her bare shoulder. Pushing the strap of her blouse to one side, he bent, his eyes darting momentarily back to hers, and then tenderly kissed the spot on her collar bone where the strap of her blouse had been. He heard her exhale deeply as he continued to kiss her soft skin along the line of her collar bone until he reached that sweet spot on her neck. As he kissed it, she sighed his name, his given name, Patrick, in his ear, sending waves of warmth and electricity through him, urging him on.

Her arms were now round his neck, one hand lightly massaging through his blond curls.

"The hair," she whispered, "never touch the hair."

"Never," he smiled through his kisses as he made his way up across her jawline towards the side of her mouth.

"But Patrick..." she breathed.

"Hmm?"

"We need to have serious words about this sarong..."

He had reached her lips now, and they kissed, deeply, impatiently, for several moments, before they both reached towards his waist at the same time, pulling the swath of pink material from his body, letting it drop to the floor.

As he pulled her against his near naked body, they stumbled back onto the bed, the rest of the day and night a hazy, glorious blur.