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“This is weird,” Robin said, shifting uncomfortably.
Strike grimaced. “Isn’t it just.”
They were in the grounds of a fancy romantic couples’ retreat. Their suspects had arrived separately, and so far, although being in a compromising place together, hadn’t done anything to actually prove they were having an affair.
Robin had chosen the picnic option for lunch, feeling that the restaurant was just a little too intimate with its dim lighting and cosy booths, but there was something very personal about lounging on a picnic blanket together out in the open. Robin lay on her stomach, pretending to pick at the food. Strike had stretched out on his side next to her, close but not too close. He had surprised her by producing a book of poetry. “Got to look the part,” he’d said, flushing. Mostly it sat open between them, but he did read to her from it whenever someone passed within earshot. He seemed quite relaxed, whereas Robin was afraid she was radiating awkwardness.
Every so often one of them would wander into the hotel on the pretext of finding a bathroom or fetching more drinks, hoping to catch a sneaky snap of their targets as proof, but without any luck so far.
“At this rate we’re going to have to do the whole dinner and evening thing,” Strike went on. “They’re being super careful, we might not get our evidence till later when the alcohol’s flowing and the sun’s down.”
Robin stared at him. “And then what?” she said. “Stay here?” She tried not to look too horrified. That would be awkwardness off the scale.
“We have a room, it’s part of the package,” Strike said, “and I couldn’t really ask for two rooms!” He grinned at her discomfort. “Don’t worry, it won’t come to that. We can always pretend we’ve had a row and one of us can storm off home.”
Robin relaxed a little. “I know this is odd,” Strike went on, “but let’s just enjoy it. It’s a fancy lunch and dinner on the client, even if we don’t get the pictures we need.”
“Oh, they’re coming this way,” Robin hissed, spotting the couple emerging from the restaurant. “They must be going for a stroll.” Their targets were walking close together, hands not quite touching, but she spotted the odd brief entanglement of fingers. She grabbed her phone. “I reckon I can get a picture if we pretend to be taking a selfie.” She turned towards Strike and angled the phone towards the couple, leaning in and grinning up at the phone as if she were taking a picture of herself and him.
Strike obligingly leaned in too, but then he caught the glare of the other man towards the camera and put his hand over Robin’s. “Think we’ve been rumbled,” he murmured, and she lowered the phone. The man looked to be walking towards them now and Robin froze, horrified.
It was a snap decision. “I apologise for this in advance,” Strike said, and kissed her. Robin almost jumped out of her skin. From the corner of his eye, Strike could see their targets still approaching, though looking a little less certain, and he knew the ruse was working. He leaned over Robin, pressing her down onto the blanket, his hand coming up to cup the side of her face gently.
Robin was lost. From the moment his lips touched hers, she forgot all about why they were here. Her reaction to him surprised her in its intensity. She tried to concentrate on not making a fool of herself, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself kissing him back. Her arms slid up and around his neck of their own free will, pulling him closer.
He leaned over her and she sank back onto the picnic blanket, pulling him with her. His hand had found its way to her face, his fingers sliding into her hair, and she opened her mouth to his with a little moan. Suddenly he was really kissing her, his tongue meeting hers, his lips insistent. Trembling, she pulled him closer still, hungry for him, kissing him hard.
It was some minutes before Strike finally pulled back, and Robin was shivering with pleasure. She gazed up at him, everything forgotten except the taste and feel of him. “Oh...” she said, softly. Strike just stared at her, dazed. Their targets were long gone. They looked at each other, realisation dawning. Robin grinned. “Wow,” she said.
“Wow indeed,” he murmured. “Er, now what?”
She smiled at him, suddenly a little cheeky. “I think we should make quite sure that our cover story is convincing,” she said, and pulled him into another kiss. This time there was no mistaking that she was having the same effect on him that he was having on her. His body pressed towards her and she could feel his erection against her hip as he kissed her and kissed her in the warm sunshine.
Eventually the decorum of being in public view forced them apart. Robin was breathless, grinning up at him. He smiled down at her. “I think we’re pretty convincing,” he said, and she laughed. Then she peeped up at him, shyly.
“I’m glad you had to book a room,” she said, and smiled softly. Desire darkened his eyes. “Me too,” he said.