What a Girl Wants

by Selena Robins

  “Fine. Gives me a chance to tell them what a control freak their son is.”

  “Because you’ve never mentioned it to them before?” He lifted his brows, remembering how Maddie, without too much effort, had recruited his sisters in a let’s-terrorize-Alex campaign.

  Maddie graced him with a sheepish grin. “Are you still thinking about those pictures of you in girly pink leggings? Personally, I thought you looked…cute.”

  “I did not wear girly leggings. They were maroon tuxedo trousers, and I was ten years old.”

  She smiled at Tim. “Maroon, pink, all the same to me when worn by a figure skater.”

  “Oh, yeah, his figure-eight days.” Tim grinned. “It was to improve his technique for hockey, don’t you know?”

  “You’re cruising, dude,” Alex said.

  Alex’s younger sister, Kristi, had e-mailed the pictures to Maddie, and come Monday morning, everyone at the magazine had his attempted double axle in full figure-skating regalia as their screen saver. Alex pointed at her. “That was not funny.”

  “Actually, it was.” Tim rose from his chair, and tapped Alex on the back. “As much as I love watching you two duke it out, I’ll say goodbye for the day.” With that, Tim left.

  Alex leaned back in the chair and locked his hands behind his head.

  She scowled at him. Again.

  “I have an idea,” he said. “Let’s start over. Good morning, sunshine.”

  She picked up her glass of juice and flicked the sweat off the glass at him. “Good morning, you big pain in the—”

  He leaned forward and tugged a loose tendril around her face. “Welcome back. Before I forget. We’re invited to meet Maxwell Hollister at his estate tonight for drinks, seven o’clock. We can walk over together.”

  “I’ll be ready.” She scanned the menu. “I think I’ll tour the tropical gardens after breakfast. I’d like to note the names of the different plants. Do you want to join me? Unless you have a problem with that.”

  A problem? Of course not. He would probably freeze to death after the cold showers he’d have to endure once back in his suite. And he was in serious danger of developing an unhealthy addiction to images of old nuns wearing thongs—the only images capable of alleviating his constant state of arousal.

  “Sounds good,” he said. “Let’s go back to the way things were before we had our…you know, disagreement last night.”

  “I’m so glad you feel that way,” she drawled. “Allow me to help you overcome our…you know, disagreement.”

  He met the familiar mischievous twinkle in her gaze before she got up and walked toward him, smiling.

  Her rich laughter echoed in the air as he stood and shook his T-shirt to dislodge the ice cubes she’d dropped down the back of his T-shirt.

  “Thanks, sunshine, I needed that.”

  At least it had saved him from another cold shower—those legs of hers, long enough to wrap around his waist twice, elicited a hard response from him.

  Sigh.

  Chapter Seven

  “If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun.”

  —Katharine Hepburn

  “Maddie, pay attention to my instructions this time.” He must have heard her click her tongue. “C’mon, this can be a lot of fun.”

  “You’re obsessive about everything. Does it matter how I hold this woody?”

  He nudged her. “Wood. I told you, it’s called a wood.”

  She smiled. “Woody sounds better.”

  “You would say that.”

  After breakfast and a tour of the tropical gardens, Alex had coaxed her into joining him for a golf game. Now that they’d returned to their familiar banter, she noticed Alex had visibly relaxed.

  She glanced down at his hands wrapped over hers, showing her how to grip the golf club. The night before those same hands had stroked her breasts with tenderness. From meeting some of Alex’s past dates, it was obvious his taste ran to gravity defying busts. It had almost brought tears to her eyes when he hadn’t cringed at her C cups. Okay, Bs, but with a padded bra they were easily Cs.

  “Let’s practice your swing,” he said. “Follow my lead.”

  She leaned into his lower body and wriggled her bottom against him. Hmmm, the man with the steel self-control lost it faster than a football team at an all-you-can-eat buffet.

  “Play nice,” he said.

  His refreshing citrus scent combined with the outdoor aroma sent naughty vibrations through her body, deliciously landing on her breasts.

  “No idea what you’re talking about,” she said.

  He backed away and stood to the side. “You know what I’m talking about.”

  She bent over at the waist, swayed her hips back and forth and swung the club. “It didn’t go far.” She shielded her eyes, looking for the golf ball. “I’d rather throw it. My softball team tells me I’m a good pitcher.”

  He slipped a black glove on his hand and touched his temple. “Yeah, I remember.”

  She had pitched the softball at his head at the last media charity tournament—he was wearing a helmet, and it was an accident.

  Well, okay, not exactly an accident.

  It was his fault for bringing an obnoxious bottled blonde to the tournament. The Baywatch wannabe not only patronized Maddie by calling her a “cutie patooty”, but the way she’d paraded those super-sized boobs had bugged the PMS right out of Maddie.

  She rolled her eyes. “Do you always remember everything that happens to you?”

  His eyes traveled up and down her body and another droplet of perspiration joined the others on her damp forehead.

  “I have a photographic memory.”

  She mentally handcuffed her hands to stop them from ripping off his golf shirt. The man could bring ice cubes to a rapid boil.

  Deep breaths.

  “It would help if you forgot to load the film in your brain once in awhile. Let me take another swing. I’ll even let you stand behind me again.” She burst out laughing at his obvious attempt to hide a smile. His stubborn streak wouldn’t allow him to admit he enjoyed her sexual banter.

  He shook his head and pointed to his left. “Stand over there so I can take my shot.”

  She raked her eyes over his toned, lean body and parked her gaze on his behind as he swung.

  “Did it go in the hole?” she asked when he was done.

  “Nope. It’d be a hole in one. Hard to do.”

  “Some stud you are.” She walked to the cart and dug out her tape recorder from her pocketbook. “Would you mind getting the balls while I brainstorm?”

  “Need my help with any golf terms?”

  “No thanks. Just trying to get the island’s sights and sounds.”

  “I’ll leave you to boost our circulation.”

  “It’s your Pulitzer that does that.”

  “Hey, if it wasn’t for you, no one would even know what I do in the Middle East.” He winked at her, took two bottles of water from the cooler and tossed her one. “I’ll leave the cart here and walk over. That should give you enough time. If not, I’ll sit and wait for you.”

  She nodded, clicked the record button on her machine and dictated in a low voice. “My adventure continues. I’m striking a ball on a luxurious golf course. You’re probably wondering how golf relates to romance at a tropical getaway.” She paused and inhaled the essence of grass mixed with the salty scent wafting in from the sea and noted the fairway’s isolation.

  “For one thing, you’re afforded privacy. In between teeing-off, you can steal a few kisses amidst the sound of exotic birds.” She closed her eyes and replayed Alex’s lips on hers. She hoped to experience the incredible sensation again soon.

  She exhaled and wiped the beaded perspiration streaming down her face. “To continue. Are you game for some daytime fantasy? No golf widows on t
his trip. You’ll want to be together to experience a sensual adventure in the lush bushes and tree-lined, private fairways.”

  Her imagination took over as she saw herself crushed in Alex’s naked embrace by the concealed thicket of trees. The vivid image was so realistic, a rush of heat shot right through her.

  She sagged against the cart and fixed her gaze on Alex as he strode toward her.

  A moan escaped her throat. “Oh, gawd.”

  Alex’s warm hand touched her arm. “You okay?”

  She jolted back. “Huh? Yes. Yes, of course.”

  “You looked like you were in a trance. Do you need more time to brainstorm, or my help with anything?”

  Yeah, take your damn clothes off and do me here. Now. “No thanks. I’m done.” She clicked her recorder off and threw it in her purse. “I’ll ask Tim to come back with me for a few pictures.”

  His dark eyes caressed her under the glare of the sun, making the inside of her mouth burn as hot as jalapeno pepper seeds. She drained the bottle of water to douse her internal furnace.

  It didn’t work.

  The sound of water spraying caught her attention. “Can I drive the cart?” she asked.

  “Sure, hop in.”

  She sat in the driver’s seat, slammed her foot on the pedal and drove toward the sprinklers.

  “What the—? Maddie?” He shouted over the whir of the cart. “Watch it…”

  Her sense of humor took over, and she laughed in answer. She steered the cart straight toward and right through the water.

  She parked the cart and jumped out. The fresh water flew over her body like a thousand butterfly wings. She twirled around, threw her head back and squealed in delight.

  “C’mon, join me.” She waved. “This is a treat. We can’t do this in February back home.”

  “Yup, a real treat. Rice Krispies come to mind. You’ve snapped, crackled and finally popped.”

  “I never got to do this as a kid.” Her internal blaze cooled and her skin broke out in goosebumps. “This is fun.”

  Alex sat with his arms crossed in front of his chest, smiling. “Once again, you’ve created chaos. Your work here is done.”

  He shifted over to the driver’s side and gestured for her to get in.

  Sliding into the passenger seat, she bent over and squeezed the excess water from her hair. “Whew. That cooled me—”

  She stopped talking when she noted his flushed face. He turned and grabbed a bottle of water from the cooler. Beads of sweat poured down the side of his face.

  “Wow, you’re hot.” She smoothed one hand across his forehead and placed her other hand on his shoulder. He stiffened beneath her touch. “Hope it’s not heat stroke.”

  “It’s not heat stroke.” He took a long pull from his water bottle and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’ve had enough golfing.”

  “Me too.” She sat straight. “Do you still want to help me with my piece?”

  He leaned his head outside of the cart and poured water over his hair. “How?”

  “Drive down to those trees, go through that path, turn off the ignition, and we’ll try out—we can discuss the theme for my article.” She wanted to ensure her making-out-in-the-woods idea worked before suggesting it to her readers.

  “You know,” he rubbed the hand towel vigorously over his face, “once in a while, not often, mind you, I can actually get inside your head and figure out what you’re thinking.”

  “Oh, now that’s a scary thought.”

  He grabbed another bottle of water and stared long and hard at her. “Don’t I know it.”

  His gaze moved downward and rested on her short-sleeved blouse plastered to her braless chest. She glanced down where her nipples had tightened like two small marbles against the wet material.

  Excitement tugged at her heartstrings. This was the second time he had looked at her chest with approval and, dare she think, desire?

  He shook his head. Damp hair clung to his neck, and wet curls framed his hooded eyes. “Aw, hell.” A myriad of expressions danced across his handsome features. Confusion? Frustration? Passion?

  She was ready. And willing. Sizzling liquid melted between her thighs.

  He stretched his arm across the back of her seat and bent his head close to her ear.

  The man could bring a mannequin to life.

  “You,” he said, “look so damn good in water.”

  She turned her head and faced him, a mere breath away from his lips. “You too.”

  “I know I said it wasn’t a good idea, but…” He leaned in closer and caressed her cheek. “I want.” His minted breath hit her face. “You.”

  Exhilaration ran through her and she nodded her response.

  Yes, yes, yes.

  She wanted him to go crazy with lust as she pressed her wet shirt next to his scorching body, and experience their passion explode like a lit match tossed into a barrel of gasoline.

  As quick as a wink, he drew back. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” He rammed his foot on the pedal and sped away with the determination of a Nascar driver.

  Soaked with desire, her pulse kept pace with the velocity of the cart.

  Dammit. They’d been so close.

  What the hell was wrong with this man? Did she have to be the one to take the lead again?

  Oh, the hell with it.

  She whipped off her blouse, flung her arms around his neck and smothered his lips with a hard kiss.

  Unfortunately, they drove onto an incline. Her foot accidentally hit the pedal and the cart veered off its course.

  At least the breeze cooled her off as they zoomed down the hill, before the golf cart unceremoniously swerved into a copse of bushes.

  Breathless, Maddie ran to catch up to Alex, who had sprinted from the golf club to their hotel. She caught up to him and clutched his arm. “Wait up. I’m—”

  “Sorry. Yeah, I know. Me too. I shouldn’t have tried to kiss you.” He jerked his arm away. “But I could still wring your pretty little neck.”

  “No one saw anything.” She panted. “Okay, maybe that foursome behind us. Those guys probably thought we were an affectionate couple. Oh, and thanks for getting my blouse.”

  “Affectionate? Is that what you call your strip act? Forget it. Stupid me. I thought golf was a safe activity.” He kept a fast pace and shook his head. “She wasn’t even wearing a damn bra.”

  “Alex, who are you talking to?”

  He swung around and she crashed into his chest. Holding her by the shoulders, he frowned. “This time you went too far.”

  “Obviously not far enough.”

  “You’re impossible.” He threw his arms skyward. “You never take things seriously. That’s it. No more outdoor activities together.”

  “Are you saying you want to do some indoor activities together?”

  “You’re driving me insane. Okay, I’ll be specific. How’s this? No ice cream, no dancing, no sitting on your couch, no sprinklers and no golfing.” He turned and marched away.

  Did he have to take everything so seriously? “Wait up. We need to talk about this.”

  “I have work to do.”

  “I got carried away with the theme of my piece: ‘Romance in the Tropics.’” She ran to him and tapped his shoulder. “You know how it is. You’ve told me many times how you get so involved in your writing—”

  He let out a loud sigh. “Fine. I’ll buy your creative insanity excuse this time. But wear a bra and baggy clothes from now on.”

  “For cripessakes, how about I wear a burka? We’re on an island. People go around half naked—okay, I’ll shut up now.” She mustered her most charming smile. “Are we still friends? That’s what you wanted wasn’t it? Friendship?”

  “Look, it’s not your fault. I shouldn’t have come on to you.” He turned
and walked away. “Damn, I need to be alone.”

  “By yourself or alone with me?”

  “She’s impossible.” He groaned aloud. “And the most stubborn, beautiful woman God ever put on this planet.”

  “Beautiful?” She smiled, scurried ahead and shouted over her shoulder. “Thanks for the golf lesson. See you at seven tonight for the cocktail party.” She spun around and cast him one last look. He looked so damn sexy, standing there with his dark hair tousled and lustrous under the tropical sun. She sashayed her hips in what she hoped was a sexy swagger and blew him a kiss. “Enjoy your cold shower.”

  “But you told me one thousand dollars was the full price.” At five o’clock, Maddie returned an urgent call from Bernie in New York, the internet spy school graduate she’d hired as an investigator a few months ago to help her find her biological father.

  “As I explained when we met, a thousand bucks is the full price for the preliminary investigation.”

  “Preliminary? I don’t remember you saying that.” Damn. She should have insisted on a more explicit contract, but she had exhausted all other affordable avenues, and this guy came recommended by Reece’s ex-boyfriend, who was a distant relative of his.

  “I’ll need another two thousand to go further.”

  “Your preliminary report didn’t give me anything I can use.”

  “Hey, I gave you phone numbers in Rome, Milan, Paris and Thailand.”

  She sighed. “With no identities or names to match those cities. Plus, those numbers were dead ends. Two of them were out of order when I called, and the other two had no clue what I was talking about.”

  “For a thousand bucks, you didn’t expect me to go to those places and check them out myself, did you? Up to you. I can stop now and part ways, or—”

  “Or I shell out two thousand and you get me something more substantial this time?”

  “Look, Lady, three Gs is a bargain for what you’re asking me to find out,” Bernie said. “You get what you pay for.”

  “You think?” He was right, and he was a hell of a lot cheaper than the others she had interviewed. However, she was sure the others hadn’t received their certification on the Internet, where a single click got you enrolled and certified in three weeks.