By Invitation Only

by Wilde, Lori; Etherington, Wendy; Burns, Jillian

  Another swallow of her drink and Olivia was feeling the island beat. She swished her hips in time to the music. She’d made up her mind she was going to enjoy herself and forget all about Nick Greer and his stupid kiss that had rocked her universe.

  But no matter how hard she tried to involve herself in the ongoing conversation about the wedding, her thoughts kept drifting back to that kiss. As far as kisses went, well, she just might have to add it to her list of favorite things. It had been like the ultimate chocolate chip cookie—rich, sweet, decadent and totally bad for you.

  Knock it off. Yes, he’s hot. Big deal. Unless you’re in the mar ket for a carefree fling.

  Was she in the market for a carefree fling? She’d never had one before, but if she’d been contemplating it, Nick was the way to go. Fun, easy, breezy, absolutely no strings attached. Hmm.

  She had to stop thinking like this. She knew better. Knew precisely what she was letting herself in for with a man like Nick, and yet, she could not stop tasting him on her tongue, could not stop feeling the brush of his beard stubble on her chin, could not get the intoxicating smell of him out of her nose. He was all around her.

  Argh!

  “Honey?”

  Olivia blinked and yanked her hand away from her lips, which she hadn’t even realized she’d been caressing. “Uh-huh?”

  “You were daydreaming about Nick, weren’t you?” Holly teased.

  “Yes,” Olivia admitted guiltily.

  Holly reached across the table strewn with empty plates and glasses and touched Olivia’s hand and gave her a secretive smile. “I know exactly what you’re feeling. You’d rather be with Nick. I’d rather be with J.D. Remind me again why we’re here and they’re at the gentleman’s club across the pavilion?”

  Nick was across the pavilion? Olivia’s heart gave a strange thump.

  “One last night of freedom, woohoo!” one of the other bridesmaids hollered and raised a triumphant fist. “And to watch the male strippers.”

  Holly rolled her eyes. “Please don’t tell me you hired strippers.”

  “We did.” Her girlfriends giggled.

  At that moment, the bongo music stopped and the sound of “You Sexy Thing” came over the speakers mounted on the palm trees above their heads. For the next several minutes they were regaled with Chippendales-quality dancers as “You Sexy Thing” morphed into “You Can Leave Your Hat On.” But after you’d seen one buff, near-naked man, you’d seen them all.

  You haven’t seen Nick naked.

  A vision of Nick bumping and grinding and stripping off his clothes in time to the seductive music popped into her head, erotic and X-rated.

  That’s when Olivia realized she’d had one mai tai too many.

  THE MEN LEFT THE STRIP CLUB long before midnight because J.D. was missing Holly. Nick made whip-cracking noises even as relief spread through him. He was ready to get back to the resort, find Olivia and kiss her again just to see if it would be as potent the second time around.

  What the hell was that all about?

  Their rowdy group started across the pavilion, but a crowd that had gathered around a street performance distracted them.

  “Let’s see what’s going on,” one of the guys said. “It’s too early to call it a night just yet. This is your last chance to go balls-to-the-wall crazy, J.D.”

  “My balls are retiring from the wall.” J.D. grinned, not the least bit ashamed when the whole group made whip-cracking noises. “They now belong exclusively to Holly. You’ll all see one day. There’s more to life than wine, women and song.”

  Nick joined the group in razzing J.D., but part of him understood what he was saying. Lately the single life was beginning to feel too routine, and sometimes late in the dark of night, he’d found himself wondering if there was something more. Of course, when the sun came up, he pushed the thoughts away. He made his living writing about being young, single and footloose in Texas.

  Yeah, but how long are you going to be young? You can’t be Peter Pan forever.

  Peter Pan? He wasn’t Peter Pan. He just liked having a good time. Nothing wrong with that.

  Maybe not, but wouldn’t you like something more substantial?

  And just as the thought popped into his head, the crowd parted to let them pass and there she was.

  Olivia.

  Responsible, uptight, contentious Olivia…doing the limbo?

  “How low can you go?” called out the DJ as the friendly limbo beat drummed into the thick, warm night graced with a full yellow moon.

  Who would have thought it possible? The sight of Olivia, wild-haired and giggling as she shimmied underneath the limbo pole held aloft by two muscular island natives while “The Limbo” spilled from the outdoor sound system, gripped Nick. She moved as limber as an eel. How did such a rigid woman get so flexible? He liked this look on her—fun, uninhibited, slightly out of control.

  One of the burly, pole-holding dudes was staring at Olivia as if she was an ice-cream cone he wanted to lick. Unexpectedly, a fissure of jealousy cracked open inside Nick. He had a startling urge to plant a fist in the guy’s grinning mug. What was this? He’d never been the jealous type. He was the guy who felt a kick of pride whenever someone ogled the woman he was with.

  Dude, you’re not with her.

  No, but he wanted to be and that foreign urge was far scarier than the jealousy.

  Olivia stood up on the other side of the pole, cheeks flushed, hair tousled, eyes dancing. Her friends clapped enthusiastically, egging her on.

  She was beautiful. Truly beautiful.

  “Nick!” Her smiled widened when she spotted him and she waved.

  Her friendly tone alarmed him. “You’ve been drinking.”

  She held up two fingers. “Just two. But they were—” She paused to hiccup, slapped a hand across her mouth, giggled, then hiccuped again. Olivia Carmichael could giggle? Who would have believed it? “Strong and I’m not accustomed to imbibing hard liquor and…” She swayed gracefully.

  Instinctively he put out a hand to brace her.

  She didn’t move away from him. “Chivalry, Nick? That’s unexpected.”

  “Tipsy, Carmichael? Equally unexpected.”

  She laughed, her bright eyes dancing.

  “How low can you go?” dared the DJ.

  “How low can you go?” Olivia purred.

  Flustered and surprised by his lack of a quick comeback, Nick lowered his head, rubbed a palm across the back of his neck.

  “Couples limbo,” the DJ enticed.

  Olivia held out her hand. “C’mon. Let’s limbo.”

  “I can’t believe you can do the limbo.”

  “Why not?”

  “You don’t seem the flexible type.”

  “Fifteen years of yoga, my friend. I’ll kick your ass.”

  “Game on,” he said, stripped off his jacket and handed it to one of J.D.’s buddies to hold. “Bring it.”

  The limbo song started over as couples lined up to slink underneath the pole two by two. The first couple didn’t make it. A tall, ungainly guy knocked into the pole. The crowd laughed.

  “How low can you go?” the DJ purred in a deep bass.

  Another couple made it through, laughing as they went.

  Next, it was their turn.

  “Lower,” Olivia instructed the pole holders.

  The men flashed shining white teeth and lowered the pole an inch.

  “Lower.” Olivia motioned exactly where she wanted the height of the pole.

  The men simultaneously raised their eyebrows. She was pointing at the level of their kneecaps.

  “Yes,” she confirmed.

  Grinning and shrugging, they lowered the pole.

  “Now,” she told Nick, “let’s win this damn thing.”

  Ah, there was the Olivia he knew and loved.

  Loved?

  Had he actually thought that ridiculous thought? Nick gulped.

  Olivia grabbed his hand. “This is it, Romeo, show me what
you’ve got.”

  In unison, they both leaned back and let their legs carry them low to the ground as they inched forward trying not to hit the limbo bar or lose their balance and fall backward.

  It was too low.

  Nick couldn’t make it. He risked a glance over at Olivia and she was sliding underneath the pole like hot syrup. How the hell did she do that? The woman was as limber as a noodle. Who would ever have thought it?

  He had to keep up. He wasn’t going to let her get the best of him. He took a deep breath, marshaling the strength of his quadriceps to keep him aloft while at the same time easing his body forward. He wasn’t going to make it. He was going to hit the pole and disappoint her.

  “How low can you go?”

  That DJ was seriously getting on his nerves.

  “Nick be nimble,” Olivia sang, changing the lyrics of the song to suit the situation. “Nick be quick.”

  Quick. That was it. He was moving too slowly. He needed to speed up, get under that pole as fast as possible.

  Olivia was already through, on the other side waiting for him. The crowd started clapping in time to the rhythm.

  With one last spurt of energy, he pushed his body clear of the pole. Then, exhausted, he collapsed onto his back, while simultaneously reaching for Olivia and pulling her down with him.

  “Wow,” she breathed as she gazed into his face. He wrapped his arms around her to the sound of the cheering crowd. “I had no idea you were that limber.” She echoed his words back at him.

  He looked her square in the eyes and in a deadpan delivery said, “Fifteen years of mattress yoga.”

  IT WAS NOT A CHARMING THING to say, but it didn’t matter. Olivia was charmed.

  All she could think about was how flexible he was and what dynamite physical chemistry they had going on between them. If she’d ever wanted a no-strings-attached sexual fling, now was the time and Nick was the perfect person to indulge with.

  I want, I want, I want. Her body throbbed.

  What the hell? Why not? They were sharing a bungalow. No one would ever have to know they slept together. One gloriously naughty weekend and then they could go back to their ordinary lives. Nothing would change.

  “Nick, do you want to get out of here?” she shocked herself by asking.

  “Honey,” he said, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  THE GROUP ENDED UP MERGING their bachelor and bachelorette celebrations into one big bash. In the midst of it, Nick and Olivia wandered toward the beach. No one seemed to notice them slipping off. The sound of island music followed them as they walked and mingled with the whispering rush of the ocean. Wind stirred the palm fronds, ruffling Olivia’s hair. The moon cast her profile in shadows, softening her features.

  Nick reached out to take her hand, surprised by how much he wanted to touch her in this simple way.

  She didn’t withdraw as he feared she might. Instead, she allowed him to interlace their fingers. The charm bracelet around her wrist fell against the back of his hand. He fingered the charms one by one, five in all—a pencil, a computer, a quill, a parchment scroll and a miniature Pulitzer medal.

  “I’ve never seen you without this bracelet on,” he said.

  “College graduation present from my grandfather. It’s the last thing he gave me before he died.”

  “It puts a lot of pressure on you.”

  “What?” She seemed startled. “No. It’s my touchstone. Keeps me on my path.”

  “Is it your path? Or is it the path your family set you on?”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Is it really?”

  “Yes,” she said staunchly, after a split-second hesitation.

  He let the topic drop. The night had been magical and he didn’t want to stir her up. He squeezed her hand as they walked and she squeezed back. Nick couldn’t remember the last time he’d held hands with a woman. Had he ever held hands with a woman?

  She was humming the limbo song under her breath.

  “You’re relaxed,” he said. “It looks good on you. I get the feeling you never let your hair down.”

  “I don’t much,” she admitted.

  “I like the mellow Olivia. You should let her out of the sweat-shop every once in a while.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.”

  He stopped walking. The pavilion was several yards behind them; the sound of merrymaking carried out into the night. She smelled like coconut and sea breeze and he wanted to taste her again more than anything else on earth. She pulled on his arm a bit, trying to tug him forward, but when he wouldn’t budge, she came back.

  “What?”

  His gaze tracked over her face and he realized he was feeling something much deeper than lust. Something profound. Curiosity, mixed with heightened awareness, mixed with a craving that touched deep down into his very core. Looking into her sharp eyes sliced him to ribbons somewhere in the vicinity of his heart. What was it about her that had so taken his interest hostage? Was it her sense of drive and unabated passion for her work? Was it her wickedly subtle sense of humor? Or was it simply the fact that she could see through him like a pane of glass?

  There could very well be something to that last part. He was accustomed to women falling all over him. But this one, this one…

  She had his number and he found that strangely intoxicating. Whereas for her part, Olivia acted as though he was more an annoyance than anything else. Except for this moment. Right now, she seemed pensive instead of pent up. He had a strong urge to take advantage of her easier state of mind.

  You are so screwed, Greer. She’s too smart, too savvy, just too damn much woman for you.

  “What?” she repeated impatiently. “What is it?”

  “This,” he said, pulled her into his arms and kissed her.

  Her lips were even sweeter the second time. He’d known they would be. He shouldn’t be kissing her. On the smartness scale, kissing Olivia Carmichael was right up there with juggling hot coals barehanded. But he thrilled to the lure of danger and right now, she was the most dangerous thing around.

  That’s all this is, he tried to convince himself, the thrill of the chase. Nothing more. He had nothing to be worried about. Right?

  He tightened his grip on her and she twined her arms around his neck and the next thing he knew they were lying on the sand. Olivia’s soft breasts were pressed against his hard chest. Nick’s blood throbbed through his whole body. He wanted her so badly he couldn’t think straight, and he was alarmed to discover his hands were shaking. He kissed her and kissed her and kissed her as if the world was going to end that night and this was their last chance to mate.

  This is a really, really bad idea. Don’t do it.

  She’d been drinking and she was thinking with her body and not her head. If he made love to her tonight, he knew she was going to regret it in the morning and he didn’t want to be responsible for making her feel lousy. Nick wanted her to feel every good thing in the world.

  But while he was mentally putting on the brakes, Olivia kissed him hard.

  It was all he could do to disentangle her arms from around his neck and pull his mouth from hers. The buttons of her blouse gaped open. Somewhere along the way he’d unbuttoned it and he didn’t even remember doing it. “Listen, Olivia—”

  “No talking,” she murmured and captured his chin between her sassy teeth. “Just sex.”

  He ran a hand through his hair. This was insane. He couldn’t be feeling the things he was feeling. It didn’t make any sense. Not now. Not here. Not with Olivia Carmichael.

  But one look in her eyes and he wanted to give her everything she asked for. “We can’t do this.”

  Another time, another place and he’d have her naked within a New York minute, but not like this. He wanted his first time with Olivia to be special.

  Special?

  Where in the hell had that thought come from? What was happening to him? What was it about her that made him feel so…so…noble?

&
nbsp; “Why not?” She reached for his belt.

  “Olivia, no,” he said gently and laid a hand on her wrist. Her charm bracelet jangled.

  “Oh,” she said. Her bottom lip quivered slightly, but she quickly clamped her bottom teeth on it. Her soft vulnerability bludgeoned him. “Oh, I’m such an idiot. You…you’re not attracted to me. You don’t find me sexy, or at least not sexy enough to sleep with me.”

  How could she possibly be thinking that? His cock was four hundred kinds of hard and it was all he could do to keep from stripping off her clothes and taking her right there on the beach.

  “Woman,” he growled and yanked her up tight against the length of him, making sure she felt his erection. “Does that feel like I don’t think you’re sexy enough?”

  She tilted her head, her eyes widening. “Well…well…”

  “Yeah, well. You’ve got me tied in knots and aching so badly that I can’t breathe.”

  “So let’s get naked.”

  “We can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “You’re tipsy.”

  “I’m not that tipsy.” Her fingers played through his hair.

  “Tipsy enough.” He stepped away from her.

  “C’mon, take advantage of the situation.” She closed the distance between them. “Take advantage of me.”

  “I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s complicated. You’re complicated.”

  “It doesn’t have to be complicated. It could be sweet and easy. Like pie for dessert. Isn’t that what you do? Isn’t that you? Taker of the sweet and easy path.”

  God, how he wanted to ignore his noble impulses and just take her. “It’s what I do. It’s not what you do.”

  “Not usually,” she admitted. “But this time, I want to. Just this once. Just one bite of sweet dessert. It doesn’t have to mean anything. That’s why you’re perfect. I don’t want it to mean anything.”