Not too different from most of his evenings when he wasn’t out of town or on a stakeout. “You’re on vacation. Why do things the same way you do them in your real life?”
She furrowed her brow, then after a long moment, huffed. “Fine, come in. I’m almost ready.”
He wanted to shout a big yes, but he simply nodded as she ushered him inside. Brushing past her, he drew in a breath of her floral perfume. “You look…stunning.” He pressed a kiss to her cheek and she stiffened. Was he coming on too strong? He tore his gaze away from her and forced himself to look at the interior of the villa, which was decorated in a predictably tropical theme.
There was no sign of anyone but Laura, but he’d known she wasn’t harboring a fugitive before he entered the house. The floor plan was open with a large kitchen, dining room and living room only differentiated by their décor. Two bedroom doors sat open. Laura headed through the third before closing herself inside.
As soon as she was gone, he crossed the room to the glass sliders and confirmed that she’d engaged the metal pins that made the easy-to-break-into doors a little more secure. Then he strode to the rattan sofa and picked up a black shawl he found draped over the back. Holding the silky fabric to his face, he detected her scent. He breathed it in and pictured her sliding her finger, wet with perfume, between her breasts. His cock twitched at the notion.
“There’s my wrap.”
Laura’s voice startled him. He felt like a kid who’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. She tried to take the shawl from him but he shook his head. “Let me.”
She gave him a wary glance then turned around.
He draped the garment over her shoulders and took the opportunity to get another whiff of her. Unable to help himself, he lingered at her back, yearning to free her hair and stroke his fingers through the silky golden strands, but was content to keep his hands on her upper arms. Her skin was so satiny smooth he couldn’t bear to let her loose.
Her breath hitched as she glanced over her shoulder. “We should go.”
He straightened, reining in his desire for the time being. “Sure, absolutely. I made a reservation.”
She shrugged out of his grasp. “You what? Just in the neighborhood, huh?”
“I try to always be prepared.”
“Unbelievable.” She grabbed a small purse and hooked the strap over her shoulder.
Damn, the woman turned him on. Her angry expression made him wonder what she looked like in the height of a climax.
Only an hour ago, he’d stroked himself in the shower as he imagined himself doing all sorts of wicked things with her. He’d hoped that would diffuse some of the erotic tension she inspired but lo and behold, he was hard again.
Shaking his head, he followed her out. As they neared the beginning of the path, he tucked her hand into the crook of his arm and inwardly cheered when she didn’t pull away. “I’m afraid you’ll trip in those shoes.”
She chuckled. “Believe me, it doesn’t take a rocky path or high heels to make me stumble. I’m a total klutz all by myself.”
He thought about the two times he’d seen her clumsiness earlier and he held her more tightly. “That’s all in your head.”
“Not really. I don’t wear heels much. I don’t trust myself.”
“You don’t need them with your legs.”
Damn it. Why couldn’t he quit with the suggestive comments? “You’re plenty tall. Don’t a lot of women wear high heels for height?”
“I suppose.”
At least the path was lit, although the tree-mounted lights illuminated some sections more than others. “So what does Dear Annie do with her time besides writing a column?”
“I’m not Dear Annie…all the time. She has a book coming out soon. Well, I do.”
“Congratulations. That’s impressive.” He’d never gone out with a woman quite so accomplished.
She nodded. “I think so too. I mean, thank you.”
“What about when you’re not penning brilliant advice?”
“I read a lot of books. Like all the time.”
Most of the women he’d dated barely seemed to know what a book was. They spent their time watching reality television shows, on Facebook or texting until their fingers grew numb. “What do you read?”
She glanced up at him, grinning. “Are you seriously interested or are you just making conversation?”
He centered his free hand over his heart and huffed. “I’m devastated that you don’t think I care.” He stopped walking and waited until she faced him. Then he lifted her chin so she couldn’t help but look at his face. “Let me assure you, I do.”
Her lips parted a fraction of an inch and she slid her tongue across them.
All his blood headed south. Desire tugged at his insides. But just as he moved in for a kiss, she backed up and turned away.
He schooled the disappointment from his expression. What was she afraid of? The woman was an expert on sexual relationships and he had no doubt the attraction was mutual, unless his instincts were suddenly completely off. He took a moment to recover as she forged ahead. Then he caught up and hooked her arm again.
“So, are you enjoying the conference?” A tremble in her voice seeped through the sugary tone.
“Yeah, sure. You?” He hated for her to think he was one of them, but why should it bother him? She obviously didn’t have a problem with that anything-goes attitude or she wouldn’t be here.
She shrugged. “I just arrived this afternoon. I’m not participating in any of the events, except as the speaker, of course.”
“Are you on board with all that hedonist propaganda?”
She narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you?”
“Yeah, I guess I am.” Every little lie was bothering him.
Seconds later she stumbled. “Ouch.” She nearly fell but he slipped his arm around her waist and tightened his grip on her.
“What happened?”
She grasped his arm as she bent and adjusted her shoe. “I twisted my ankle. Give me a second.”
He glanced toward the hotel, visible at the top of the hill. “It’s not much farther.”
She winced as she took a step with a pronounced limp.
His gut tightened. “This calls for me to return the favor you did for me this afternoon.”
“What do you think—”
Without giving her a chance to argue, he lifted her into his arms then started toward the hotel. “I have a small first-aid kit in my room. We can stop there before we head to the dining room and put some ice on that foot.”
“You don’t need to carry me. I’m perfectly capable of walking.” But she clasped her hands behind his neck and damn if his cock didn’t react to having her body pressed against him.
“I’m not going to chance you doing any more damage, not on my watch.” He adjusted her in his arms.
“Are you trying to convince me that you’re Superman? I’m hardly a featherweight.” She tossed one end of her shawl over her shoulder.
He wished she would cut herself some slack. She seemed to have no inkling how incredibly attractive she was. “No, you’re not a featherweight, you’re just right.”
Her throat twitched with a swallow.
The power of her stare nearly caused him to drop her. He stopped a couple yards from the end of the hilly path to rest for a few seconds. God, he wanted to kiss her but she turned her face away. Again.
“I can walk from here.” She wiggled until he set her on her feet. “Just because I’m accompanying you to your room, please don’t think you can take advantage of the situation.”
He stifled a laugh. “You’re perfectly safe with me, ma’am.” That wasn’t entirely true. He’d never harm her but he planned to do unspeakably erotic things to her, right after she begged him.
Chapter Three
Laura hobbled the rest of the way to the hotel. Why had she insisted that Guy put her down? She’d felt so safe in his arms and her ankle really hurt, but being close to h
im had stirred up a hornet’s nest of passionate cravings that she wanted no part of.
He offered his arm, but she pursed her lips and ignored the gesture. It was easier if she didn’t get that close to him. She tried to scare up a sense of control. She refused to allow one sexy, muscle-bound man to break through her resolve. Giving in to the powerful chemistry between them would mean great sex—followed by that awful loneliness. It had been two years since she’d succumbed to her carnal desires and gone home with a guy she’d just met. Two years since she’d woken up feeling like she needed a month-long shower to wash away the pathetic desperation.
Guy seemed different, but her judgment was hardly spot on when it came to men. If he didn’t smell like heaven and resemble a Greek god he’d be a lot easier to resist. His legs looked almost as good in chinos as they had in shorts and the sleeves of his polo shirt only highlighted the thick muscles that roped his upper arms. The pain in her ankle was a cinch to deal with compared to the ache he’d inevitably leave her with when he went away.
He took her arm when they neared the rotating door and they went through together. Being trapped in another too-close moment had her pulse racing. Guy slid his arm around her waist, pulling her against him, and she nearly came unglued. Deep down, she wanted to hook her hands behind his neck and haul him in for a long, deep kiss, but why put herself through the heartache?
The instant the door opened to the lobby, she bolted out of the confined space. Even the brisk air-conditioned atmosphere couldn’t cool the inferno building inside her.
Guy offered his hand again, but she dared not touch him. Not now. Not ever. Her attraction for him was so powerful that she feared she’d never be able to resist him. But all her pent-up sexual frustration was steadily taking her over.
He shrugged then tipped his chin toward the elevators. “I’m in three-fourteen.”
She limped into the elevator and said a silent thank-you that another couple had followed them in. The less time she had to be alone with Guy, the better.
Once they stepped out on the third floor, she took off her shoes since her foot had swelled a little, making her sandal uncomfortably tight. Before she could stop him, Guy whisked her into his arms again. Muscles deep inside her pulled taut. Damn her libido.
She stiffened. “I told you, I can walk.”
When he didn’t put her down, she muttered a curse under her breath.
He chuckled. “You sweet-talking devil. A simple thank-you would do.”
“This is ridiculous. You don’t have to prove you’re a macho man anymore, okay? I get it.” She got it way more than she cared to acknowledge. Every cell in her body hummed with need.
He scrunched his brow. “Is that what you think? That I’m trying to prove something to you?”
Guilt needled her insides. “No, it’s not. I think you’re a sweet, caring man…with a King Kong complex.”
He stopped and set her on her feet. “A King Kong complex? What exactly is that?”
She couldn’t hold back a grin. “I have no idea. I just made it up. You reminded me of a big, strong…” She could hardly admit how incredibly turned-on she’d been from his raw masculinity—was still.
“Ape?” he supplied as he slipped his keycard into the reader.
“No, of course not. Please…forget I said it.” She followed him inside. The room bore his woodsy scent. She inhaled and held her breath, hoping to memorize it.
He quickly snatched up some discarded clothes from the floor and loaded them into a plastic laundry bag in the corner. “Sorry. I wasn’t expecting a guest.”
She supposed that was a good sign. He had no illusions that she planned to sleep with him. “Please don’t go to any trouble on my account.”
He disappeared into the bathroom then emerged holding a small red-and-white box and a bag of half-melted ice. “Have a seat and I’ll take a look at your ankle.”
She grabbed the only chair in the room—way safer than sitting on the bed.
Guy perched on the edge of the mattress opposite her, lifted her foot and rested it on his knee.
He cupped her heel, his touch gentle yet firm. Pressing on the swollen area above her ankle bone, he glanced at her as she winced. “Hurts there, huh?”
She nodded although she had to admit—if only to herself—that his touch really did make it better.
He felt around her foot, caressed her shin and ankle, less like a doctor or nurse and more as a lover would. She licked her suddenly dry lips.
Torrid heat stole through her. She gripped the arms of the chair tightly to keep her hands from trembling.
Guy carefully held the bag of ice to the most swollen area for a minute then moved it to the other side of her leg. He manipulated her foot around the joint. “Any better?”
“Yeah, a little.”
“Are you cold? I can turn down the air conditioner.” Concern edged his tone.
“No, it’s fine.” She clasped her hands on her lap to keep them still.
He set the ice aside and rubbed her toes and the front of her foot. She closed her eyes for a few seconds and drank in the sensuality. “Did you know the feet are covered in pressure points that tie to various parts of the rest of the body? You can actually control pain by working those spots.”
“Really?”
“Mm hmm. I read a book about reflexology a long time ago.”
He massaged an inch or so below her big toe, rubbed slow, suggestive circles. “What part does this affect?”
She swallowed hard when she realized the answer. “The heart,” she said quietly.
His lips curled in a sexy grin. “It’s all part of my plan.”
How was she supposed to resist his charm?
She shifted uncomfortably in her seat and pulled her leg away. “I’m sure it’ll be okay, thanks.”
He leaned toward her and slipped his hand around her calf. Lingering in the spot, he leveled a chastising stare at her. “I’m not through with you yet. Wrapping it will help. Trust me.” He lifted her foot and returned it to his knee, never releasing his hold.
She gripped the arms of the chair tightly and held her breath as Guy dug in his first-aid kit for a cloth bandage roll.
“This’ll give it some stability.” He gently wound the fabric around her heel and ankle then fastened it with a clawed metal pin. “There.” He set her foot on the floor, his stare locked on hers.
No man had ever done anything as sweet and caring for her. She drew a ragged breath and gave him a wary smile. “I-I’m famished. I should put my shoes back on.” Slipping her feet into the sandals—one of which was now a bit tighter thanks to the bandage and the swelling—she stood and nearly crashed into Guy, who got up at the exact same moment.
He towered above her, a wall of muscle, and his eyes turned dark like a stormy sea. Was it her imagination that their hearts beat in unison?
“You’re so pretty, Laura.”
Their bodies touched at all the right places—her breasts to his broad chest, the hardness of his erection to the softness of her abdomen—and suddenly she was swamped in desire. She wondered how they didn’t incinerate on the spot. Panic drummed through her at the thought of kissing him yet her legs refused to move.
Guy cradled her cheek and she couldn’t resist leaning into his palm. Her eyelids slipped lazily shut. A heavy, demanding pulse settled between her legs.
He brushed his lips over hers, so softly she barely felt it. Yet inside her, a million firecrackers exploded all at once, flooding her system with passion and lust.
He firmly grasped her upper arms and the hard length of him pressed against her belly. She shouldn’t let this go any further but she was powerless to resist. He closed his mouth over hers and she opened to him, invited him inside.
She silenced the alarms in her head so she could enjoy the minty taste of him, the velvet-smooth feel of his tongue as it tangled with hers. Nothing existed but that moment and the two of them.
Her sigh disappeared between them, somewh
ere in the depths of the best kiss ever.
But the quiet perfection they shared shattered at the shrill laughter of a woman in the hallway. Then a man shouted something Laura couldn’t make out and a door slammed shut.
Guy broke the kiss. His eyes held an apology. “The walls are paper thin, sorry. It’s been nothing but parties here.”
She backed away, thankful for the interruption that stopped her before they did something she’d regret. “That’s what hedonists do, right? Thanks for taking care of me…my foot. We should go to dinner.” Without waiting for his reply, she started toward the door.
She kept quiet in the elevator as they descended to the lobby. With her arms wrapped tightly around her body, she hoped it was clear she had no intention of allowing him to touch her again.
When the elevator doors slid open, she rushed out ahead of him and strode across the lobby, her heels clacking on the marble floor. The pain in her ankle had eased a lot thanks to the TLC Guy gave her.
That kiss had been just as wonderful as she’d imagined but it would have to hold her for a long time. She had no business indulging in a fling, especially here, where she was pretending to be her sister. This was way too important to Suzanne for her to mess up because of some silly crush.
Guy caught up to her in time to hold the door for her as she entered the restaurant.
“Thank you.” She kept her tone polite but clipped. She couldn’t let on how off balance his kiss had left her. For heaven’s sake, her panties were wet.
The maître d’ escorted them to a table next to a window. A burgundy cloth draped the round tabletop and a single candle in the middle flickered from inside a glass jar. The quiet corner spot by the fireplace provided a view of the mountain on one side and the Caribbean Sea on the other.
“This is lovely,” she said as Guy brushed past the maître d’ to seat her.
He sat opposite her as their waiter arrived and handed them menus.
“The chef’s special is lobster-stuffed ravioli finished with a Romano cream sauce,” the man informed them.
Guy ordered a bottle of wine then glanced across the small table at Laura as she studied the menu. “See anything you like? The special sounds great.”
Deceptively Yours (Wanton Weston Women, Book Two) Page 5