Call to Redemption

by Tawny Weber

  Even as she settled into the plush chair cushion, she could feel her muscle fibers twitching against the need to get up and run.

  She shouldn’t be here.

  She wasn’t cut out for romance.

  Hell, she didn’t even believe in the concept.

  But as Dominic slid into his chair, all those thoughts faded in a haze of lust.

  God, the man was gorgeous.

  Her muscles twitched again, this time with the need to slide her hands over the breadth of those shoulders. Just to see if they were as rock-solid as they looked.

  But she was pretty sure once she had her hands on that body, she’d be hard-pressed to keep her exploration to just his shoulders.

  Desire tingled over her skin. Tingled, for Christ’s sake. She, the woman who’d laugh if anyone else said that, was tingling.

  “Before we order, there are two things I need to tell you,” he said, his tone as serious as his eyes were hypnotic.

  She could lose herself in those dark depths, she thought before playing his words back.

  Darby’s smile faded. Tell her things? Well, that was never good.

  “First, I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. You remind me of a sexy pixie.”

  “I knew I should have worn heels,” Darby murmured, trying not to be too charmed by the image his words invoked. But dammit, she’d taken a lot of hits about her stature over the years—this was the first that made her want to embrace it.

  “It’s more about your look than your height. You’ve got that sharp, edgy, too-gorgeous-to-be-real thing going on.” His smile quirked, one brow arching in amusement. “Add in a hint of sass and a look that says you have a way with wicked, and there you go. Sexy pixie.”

  “Mmm, I can do wicked,” Darby agreed, relaxing enough to reach across the table and slide her fingers over the back of his hand. “Or is that naughty? I have trouble telling the difference between the two.”

  Ahh, there it was. Heat. Her pulse picked up a beat as she watched it flare in his eyes.

  She might owe Grace a thank-you gift for putting sex in her head.

  “You said two things,” she reminded him.

  “Damn. Looking at you made me lose my train of thought.”

  He shook his head as if trying to clear the fog. She liked that. Appreciated that he didn’t try to play cool or pretend he wasn’t affected. Who knew how sexy honesty could be?

  “Okay, second thing.” He took a quick drink of his ice water before continuing. “I’m here for vacation. But when I’m not on, um, vacation, my career is intense. It demands all of my time, every ounce of my attention. I’m the kind of guy who makes workaholics look like slackers.”

  “Your career is your life,” she murmured.

  His arched brow said, “Exactly.”

  Oh. Darby felt the tingle all the way down to her toes. See, she thought. Her mantra was sexy.

  “You sound proud,” she said, appreciating every word. She’d heard plenty of people claim their career was priority. She’d come across quite a few workaholics, especially in her line of work.

  But this was the first time she’d seen the same passion, the same at-the-cost-of-anything zeal in someone’s eyes that also drove her.

  Oh, yeah. So sexy.

  “I am proud,” he admitted. “Dedication is vital in my world. Because of mine, I’m damn good at what I do.”

  His smile faded, something that looked like pain flashing in his eyes for a moment before his expression cleared. “Yeah. Damn good. But that doesn’t leave room in my life for anything else.”

  And there it was, she realized as she felt a tiny ping in her heart. It was as if he knew the exact words to dissolve every single smidgen of her resistance.

  Now, resistance-free, she felt a little giddy. And ready to dive into her first romantic vacation fling. With that in mind, Darby flashed a sassy smile then pursed her lips.

  “Oh, no.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Does this mean you’re not planning to ask me to run off after dessert to get married so we can open a cute little bed-and-breakfast on the beach, where you’ll cook, and homeschool our eight children?”

  “What are you doing while I’m slaving over stove and chalkboard?”

  “Eight children,” she reminded him, her smile masking her bafflement at the idea of how much work that must be. Eight. Did anyone have that much love? Her mother hadn’t even had enough for two. But this was a game, she reminded herself. “Which means that I, of course, will be splitting my time between mommy duties and making sure I look hot and sexy in order to lure you into bed to work on number nine.”

  “Does that lure include hot-oil body rubs, see-through nighties and the occasional role-playing game?”

  “Of course.”

  “Sounds tempting,” he decided with a long, slow smile so sexy that Darby felt its impact deep in her belly.

  “Only one problem,” he confessed. “I’m a lousy cook.”

  “Me, too.” She shrugged. “I guess there goes that dream.”

  “It’s a good thing we found out now, before we got in too deep.”

  Mmm, deep. God, a part of her wanted to give herself a good forehead smack to shake those sexy thoughts out of her mind. It wasn’t as if she was frigid—no matter what Paul said—but still, she’d never been one of those sex-obsessed women focused on the varied and satisfying ways to get off.

  Yes, sitting here with Dominic, thoughts of sex were filling her mind. Sexual innuendos. Sexual positions, sexual pleasure. Oh, yeah. Pleasure.

  “So now that we know we’re not destined for happy-ever-after?” she ventured, wanting to get herself back on track along with the conversation.

  “Now I do the gentlemanly thing and tell you that as attracted as I am to you, all I can offer is this week.”

  Darby’s pulse leaped with delight.

  Talk about perfect. If she had ever thought there was anything to magic or intuition, Dominic’s words would have cemented her belief. But she was a pragmatist through and through.

  So she took it as a sign, instead.

  Paul thought she was too much of a control freak to ever let go, to ever just enjoy the moment without having to know every single detail. Well, look at her now. Here she was, proving exactly how wrong he was.

  “Just this week? As in, no commitment, no expectation of more than a little vacation fun?” She leaned forward with narrowed eyes, angled her chin and arched one brow. “So basically, all you want is sex? A little vacation fling? Some naughty nooky with nothing on the side?”

  “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, tipping back a chug of Scotch.

  Both brows rose now. She’d made seasoned defense attorneys cry with that tone, but Dominic didn’t even blink.

  “Actually, it’s an excellent thing,” Darby decided, sipping her own drink and wishing the froth was something stronger. “My life, my real life, gets intense. My career demands a lot of my attention, most of my focus. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

  She bit her lip, wishing that last sentence hadn’t sounded so defensive. Another reason to dive into this vacation fling, she decided. She would rock the hell out of work-life balance.

  “You won’t hear any argument from me. I’m a big believer in giving one hundred ten, even one hundred twenty percent, to your career. As long as you’re happy and fulfilled, it’s all good.” His smile slipped a bit. “Barring anything that breaks the national, state or city laws, of course.”

  “Well, that’s specific,” Darby said with a laugh. Not just the law, but all shades of the law.

  “I believe in covering all contingencies.”

  “I like that in a man.”

  “Excellent.” He gestured for the waiter to pour the wine, waiting until the man left befo
re lifting his glass. “Here’s to vacation mysteries and pleasurable fantasies.”

  “I think I can drink to that,” she agreed, a little thrilled to realize that she could not only drink to it, but she also actually welcomed it.

  “So what do you do when you’re not sipping frothy pink drinks in Hanalei?” he asked after they’d clicked and sipped.

  “You had your two things, here are mine.” Mind made up, she leaned forward with a smile hopefully tempting enough to lure him into agreement. “First off, you’re a gorgeous man who is filling my head with thoughts and fantasies so detailed and erotic that I’m surprised I’m not blushing.”

  “Is that a fact?” When he turned his wrist so their hands were palm-to-palm and gently rubbed his thumb over her pulse, even those thoughts blurred. Darby had to take a couple of deep breaths to pull them back into focus.

  “Mmm, yes. That is a fact. So thing one is to assure you that despite bursting my beachside B-and-B bubble, the attraction is very mutual.”

  “That’s good to know.” His smile shifted, his dark eyes narrowing with desire. “Since I plan on finding out a lot more about those fantasies of yours so we can play them out in exquisite detail.”

  Oh, boy. She wanted a sip of ice water to cool her throat—or a gulp of wine to steady her nerves. But she forced herself to continue without either.

  “Which brings me to the second thing.”

  Talk about wicked. His smile shifted, sparking a curl of hot desire deep in her belly. The kind that made Darby want to press her thighs tight together to intensify, to build until the pleasure exploded.

  “The second thing is that we agree that whether our time together is limited to dinner, to the night, or the entire week, that it’s only about here and now.” Afraid she was sounding like some goofy romantic in a sappy movie, Darby cleared her throat and continued. “Whatever time we spend together will be focused on the matter at hand with no sharing of personal details. Topics such as careers, job demands, educational specifics or anything work-related is off-limits.”

  “Interesting.” He arched one brow. “Are you involved in anything illegal?”

  Tempted to laugh, Darby shook her head.

  “Immoral? Illicit?”

  Immoral? Thinking of the thousands of lawyer jokes she’d heard over the years, Darby’s lips twitched again.

  “There is nothing about my vocation that the United States government would frown on,” she said primly.

  “So that’s it? No sharing home addresses or phone numbers, and no job talk?”

  “Not even a hint.”

  Considering, he leaned back in his seat while the waiter set salads lush with leafy greens, spears of fruit and a dusting of fried plantains in front of them.

  “Any other personal details off-limits?” he asked as soon as the man was out of earshot.

  “Last names,” she added, just for fun. She knew all it’d take was a visit to the front desk—probably even less for him—to get that information. But it added to that the mystery. “We stick with Darby and Dominic. Which would have been a great name for that B and B, by the way.”

  “I can see the carved driftwood sign hanging over the door,” he agreed. “But since you’ve put the kibosh on that particular fantasy, I guess we’ll settle for the other one. A week of vacation pleasure. We’ll live in the moment, with no pressures and no expectations on either side. Except for pleasure. I have a lot of expectations when it comes to pleasure with you, Darby of no last name.”

  His expression was easy, the look in his eyes promising that the pleasure he offered was more than anything she’d ever imagined. But there was something else there, Darby realized. She’d seen hints of it already, an intensity and guarded pain, that made her realize that while this little escape into fantasy was something she wanted, it was actually something Dominic needed.

  A tickle in her belly joined the sexual tingles teasing her skin. Darby wasn’t sure what it meant. She recognized the attraction—the guy was gorgeous, after all. But there was something deeper pulling at her, tugging her heartstrings. Making her want to cuddle the man close and smooth away any pain. To give him a safe haven against the miseries she saw in his eyes.

  Whoa.

  Freak-out alert. Darby could feel her brain scrambling back from the concept of emotional anything.

  Emotions led to feelings. Feelings led to pain. Pain led to debilitation. The kind that slayed hearts, destroyed families, ruined lives.

  No can do.

  No way.

  No thanks.

  Darby drew in a slow, deep breath, feeling as if she’d just backed away from a mental cliff on a windy day.

  Emotions didn’t come into this, she assured herself. This thing, this week, it was all about the physical. Or, better yet, the fantasy.

  “That’s exactly what I want,” she told Dominic, leaning forward take his hands in hers. “I want the fantasy. I want to lose myself in the pleasure of this gorgeous resort, this beautiful island and each other. I’d like to see what life is like outside of the world I usually live in.”

  Dominic lifted both her hands to his lips, brushing a warm kiss over the knuckles of one, then the other. He smiled, his mouth still warming her skin.

  “If it’s a fantasy you want, darling, it’s a fantasy I’ll give you. One you’ll never forget.”

  Uh-oh.

  Darby knew trouble when it was kissing her hand.

  But this was vacation.

  Her chance to prove that she had a life outside of work. A way to relax that she could actually enjoy.

  So what if the guy was trouble?

  Nobody was going to be hurt by this. They were both single, both free to enjoy themselves. And both interested, with a solid finish line already spelled out.

  It was perfect.

  For the first time in her life, she was ready to simply live in the moment. To grab on with both hands and ride it like a wild stallion, wringing every drop of pleasure there was to be had from it.

  Talk about work-life balance.

  Who knew it could feel so delicious.

  CHAPTER THREE

  BY THE END of dinner, Nic was mentally writing a thank-you note to whatever universal being had sent Darby his way. Fate, his guardian angel—and no way a man saw what he did and lived through it all without believing there was an angel watching over his ass—or, in his case, the god Poseidon, whom he’d pledged service to when he’d earned his trident.

  Whoever, whatever, there was no question that they were looking out for him. Darby wasn’t just stunning, she was intriguing. There was an edgy sophistication in her demeanor that pricked at his curiosity and engaged his mind. As easy to talk to as she was to look at, she had a husky laugh, a wicked sense of humor and an easy sexuality that spelled interesting things for this week of living a fantasy.

  Nic watched her lick the last smear of caramel from her spoon, liking the way she seemed to give her entire focus to enjoying experiences. Food. Drink. Flirting. So far, the woman seemed to embrace every sensual moment of them.

  “The band is good,” she observed as the music drifted up from the lanai.

  “They’ve got a solid reputation,” he agreed. Then, after a long moment, he asked, “Would you like to dance?”

  His hesitance didn’t stem from reluctance to hit the dance floor. It was simply a matter of not bursting the fantasy bubble before they’d even got naked. The lead singer of the band currently rocking out an island version of “Welcome to the Jungle” was his cousin. If they went downstairs, there was no way his identity—or rather, his career, which was one and the same—would stay secret.

  “Do you not like to dance?” Darby asked, resting her elbows on the table and leaning toward him with a teasing smile. “Are you self-conscious about your moves? Oh,
I know. Maybe you’re one of those awkward, flailing dancers? Or do you give Frankenstein a run for his money?”

  She added a jerky, stiff-armed shimmy that made him laugh.

  “My moves are solid,” he assured her as he mimicked her stance to watch the candlelight dance highlights over her face. “And I promise, there’s nothing awkward about my body when I use it.”

  Her mouth rounded in an O, even as her eyes narrowed as if she was imagining just how that’d feel.

  Then, her hypnotic eyes locked on his, she arched one brow, pursed her lips and said, “Prove it.”

  For all the fantasy talk, he’d figured it’d take them a few days to build to a climax...so to speak. He hadn’t thought he’d be proving anything tonight. He’d left his rack-’em-and-stack-’em days behind a decade ago. But, dammit, he’d never been able to resist a dare.

  So, planning it out with the same quick thinking and detailed focus as he would any operation, Nic stood, holding out his hand to her.

  “Shall we?”

  “You’re going to show me your moves?”

  “They’ll leave you begging for more,” he promised.

  “I’ve got to warn you, I don’t usually dance with a partner.”

  “You have something against moving against a partner?”

  She gave a tut-tutting sigh even as she slipped her hand into his.

  “Sadly, I’ve yet to find a partner who has the right rhythm to match my moves.”

  Nic shot her a doubtful look and asked, “Are your moves really that awkward?”

  Appreciation and humor danced in those big whiskey eyes for a moment before challenge took their place. With her head tilted to the side, she locked her eyes on his and, taking a minute step forward, rose.

  Just close enough to hint at their bodies brushing against each other. His body tightened, heat kindling. The look in her eyes said she knew she had his interest, and she was deciding just exactly what she wanted to do about it.

  Nic liked that.

  He liked that a lot.

  It wasn’t just the appeal of a woman who could laugh at herself that turned him on—although that was sexy as hell.