Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

by Nicole Morgan

  “I guess the cruise line wants to make sure we pay them for our drinks,” she said, wandering toward the next booth.

  “That, and the state wants to get their cut. I’ll have to declare them and pay tax on them before they let us leave the cruise terminal. Worth it, though.”

  She tensed, although she didn’t look away from the display of painted plaques that had caught her eye. “That won’t draw attention to us, will it?”

  Ryan made his laugh as reassuring as he could manage. “We might draw attention if we didn’t bring some booze back. Seriously, though, that’s after we’re past customs. Nothing to worry about.”

  “If you say so.” Juanita swallowed.

  They continued moving from booth to booth. Juanita grew less thorough as time went on. Eventually she was walking past all but the most intriguing booths with only a lingering glance. Ryan was happy enough to skip most of them, but as she turned away from an extensive display of pottery, he hesitated. One vase among the hundreds caught his eye. He stopped and picked it up. Its round belly and graceful neck were covered with tiny geometric patterns incised into brown and green glaze, their precise lines ever so slightly irregular, making it clear the work had been done by hand.

  Juanita glanced back and froze. She walked toward him, staring at the vase in his hands. “What made you pick that one?”

  “I don’t know. There’s just something about it I like. Why?”

  She reached out to run her fingers over it. “Because it’s the same one I noticed when I was walking by.”

  Ryan looked at the shelves full of similar vases, along with platters and bowls and cups and a dozen other types of wares. “Just this one?”

  She took it from him and turned it over and over in her hands. “Out of all of them.”

  Ryan swallowed. He forced his voice to stay light. “Well, that’s clearly a sign it needs to belong to us.”

  She shrugged and handed it back. “You can buy it if you want. But we can’t exactly share it, and I don’t see another like it.”

  There were similar vases, but none had the same combination of harmonious colors and delicate decoration. And none of them called to Ryan the way this one had. Or Juanita either, apparently. He could picture it on a table, filled with bright flowers, warm and beautiful and homey. He could picture the two of them sitting at that table many years from now, laughing and chatting and gazing at each other with enduring affection.

  He shook his head. That vision could never be a reality. But he took the vase to the shopkeeper anyway. He’d persuade Juanita to accept it somehow. It would look out of place in the modern decor of his apartment.

  Juanita regarded his load of bags. “I guess you’re probably ready to stop lugging all that stuff around.”

  “I’m fine if you want to keep looking. I am starting to get hungry, though. And we shouldn’t wait too long if we want time to swim.”

  “Yeah.” Juanita looked wistfully down the row of booths they hadn’t yet reached, then balled her fists and turned toward the plaza. “Okay. I’m ready. Let’s go.”

  Ryan considered asking if she was sure, but that would only aggravate her tension. Best to keep everything as casual and relaxed as possible. He grimaced and passed her the bag with her father’s present. “Do you mind carrying this?”

  “Of course not.” Juanita accepted it eagerly and walked beside him toward the ship.

  He made light, relaxed conversation about the things they’d seen to keep her distracted. Even so, as they walked along the dock toward the ship, her breath quickened and her voice grew more and more strained. Ryan had been thinking all morning about how he could help her when this moment came and had come up with a strategy. He waited until they were only steps away from the gangway to implement it. “So I was thinking it might be fun to go to the karaoke lounge one evening. You could sing something.”

  She jerked her gaze away from the woman scanning the cards of the couple ahead of them and stared at him. “What?”

  “You said you like performing on stage. I’d love to hear you. Haven’t you ever sung karaoke before?”

  “No.” She pulled her cruise card from her pocket, still frowning at him. “I couldn’t.”

  “Why not?” Ryan presented his card for scanning. “Karaoke is fun. No one cares if your voice is any good or not. It’s all about having the guts to get up in front of people and make a fool of yourself.”

  She scowled as the employee scanned her card. “I’m not interested in making a fool of myself, thank you very much.”

  “Really, I think you’d love it. Tell you what.” Ryan guided her down the corridor toward the table where people were checking their liquor purchases. “I’ll take a turn if you do.”

  She squinted at him. “I didn’t know you sang.”

  “I don’t.” Ryan set the bag of rum carefully on the table. “I told you, nobody cares. Come on. Say you will.”

  “I’ll think about it.” Juanita tapped her foot and shifted her weight while he jotted the required information on the form. When he finished and scooped up the rest of his bags, she hesitantly asked, “How does it work?”

  He headed toward the elevators. “They play a recorded track with the music and backup vocals, and the words are on a screen in front of you.” An elevator arrived, and Ryan led Juanita through the doors. “You follow along and belt them out. It’s easy.” The doors closed behind them, leaving them alone. “Almost as easy as getting back on the ship.”

  Juanita blinked. “My gosh. It was, wasn’t it? I barely even noticed.”

  “I told you all you needed was practice. And something else to think about, so you’re not worrying yourself to death and looking suspicious.”

  Realization dawned in her eyes. “So that’s what you were doing.” Her shoulders slumped. Ryan thought it was just from relief, and there was certainly plenty of that in her voice. But he picked up a trace of disappointment as well. “You weren’t actually serious about us singing karaoke.”

  “Of course I was.” He’d been half-joking when he’d made the suggestion, but he wasn’t going to back out now. “I think you’ll be great. I just waited to suggest it until the opportune moment.”

  She grinned at the allusion. “Are you going to spring something equally distracting on me every time we board?”

  “Maybe.” He tried to look innocent.

  She giggled. “I don’t think it will work if I’m expecting it.”

  “We’ll find out, won’t we? Actually, I think just wondering what I’m going to say will keep you distracted enough even if I don’t manage to come up with anything sufficiently shocking.”

  “Hmmph.” Juanita crossed her arms and tried to look offended, but the expression was spoiled by the way the corners of her mouth turned up.

  “So, what song are you going to pick?”

  She gave him a mock glower. “I haven’t agreed to sing anything yet. What are you going to pick, if I do?”

  “Last time, I sang ‘I Would Walk 500 Miles.’ It was a big hit.”

  She laughed out loud. “I bet it was.” She sobered again and looked away. “Who were you singing it to?” She grimaced and waved a dismissive hand. “I mean, who were you with? Friends, or…”

  Ryan sucked air between his teeth. But he wasn’t going to lie. “An ex-girlfriend. Her name was Katherine.”

  She nodded, not meeting his eyes. “You took a cruise with her?”

  He briefly reconsidered lying. It could easily have been at a karaoke bar in Houston. But Juanita would probably keep questioning him until she uncovered the truth. “Yeah, actually.”

  She looked away. “I bet you had fun.”

  At the time he’d enjoyed it. Katherine had been good company. She’d wanted to make their relationship permanent, and for a while he’d thought about it. But something had been lacking, so he’d kept putting her off. Eventually her patience had run out and she’d broken up with him. She’d married someone else less than a year later.


  Ryan had never really understood what had held him back from committing to Katherine or any of the other girlfriends who would have welcomed a ring and a ceremony if he’d been willing. But now he did. What he felt for Juanita went so far beyond what he’d felt for any of them that it wasn’t even in the same category. Somewhere deep down he must have known that more was possible and been unwilling to settle for less.

  What kind of cruel cosmic joke was it to finally encounter the woman who made him realize that all those sappy romantic clichés were understatements, not exaggerations, under conditions that made it impossible for them to share more than a few days together? If Carmen had introduced him to her sister back in Houston, before the events that had turned Juanita’s life upside down, would he have felt the same way?

  Surely he would have. Maybe not so intensely so quickly, but he couldn’t imagine failing to connect with Juanita, no matter what circumstances brought them together. Maybe it would have taken a few weeks or months of dating her before this deep and overwhelming emotion took root and grew and bloomed. But maybe not. Maybe it would have happened just as fast. He certainly wouldn’t have turned down the invitation she’d made last night, no matter how quickly it had come. Maybe things would have progressed so rapidly they’d have been married before the election changed everything. Then she would have been safe from deportation for good.

  Ryan’s heart stuttered and his stomach flipped. Would he be willing to marry Juanita, if that would solve her problem? His mind balked at the idea, but his heart didn’t. It would happily drop to one knee and propose to her right here in the elevator. His imagination had no doubt where their relationship would go if it were free to develop naturally. They had that sort of connection. He might as well quit pretending he didn’t know it.

  He realized he’d let the silence stretch uncomfortably long without responding. “Yeah, it was fun. I guess.”

  Juanita swallowed. “Oh.”

  The doors slid open. Ryan wanted to say something, but people were waiting to board the elevator, and they couldn’t keep them waiting. Besides, he couldn’t just blurt out what he’d suddenly realized. He had to think it over. He had to consider what it meant. He had to think about how she might respond.

  So he gave her a bland grin and threaded between clusters of people to the corridor and along it to their room. Since his hands were full, she used her card to open the door. He gratefully deposited the bags on the bed. “I sure am glad to put those down. I think we accidentally bought the chocolate that increases in weight over time.”

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She flashed a teasing grin.

  “So would you if you had to carry it.” Ryan stretched his arms, cracked his knuckles, and turned back to the door. “We’d better grab some lunch quick if we want to have time to enjoy the beach.” He gave Juanita a swift glance. “You do still want to go back out, right?”

  Her smile was only a tiny bit tremulous. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  CHAPTER 12

  J uanita floated on her back, her eyes closed, her hands clasped under her head, reveling in the warm sunlight falling on her face and body. She’d pulled off her t-shirt along with her shorts and left them with her towel and tote bag on one of the hundreds of lounge chairs that crammed the area between the line of cantinas and the beach. Ryan hadn’t commented, but she’d seen the appreciation in his eyes.

  It still felt uncomfortable exposing so much of her body to the view of any casual stranger who walked by. But the beach wasn’t crowded. Bikinis far outnumbered one-piece suits on the women present. And Ryan’s gaze didn’t make her uncomfortable. Quite the contrary. Whenever she caught him sneaking a glance at her bare midriff or exposed cleavage, her heart raced and warm tingles washed over her. She pretended not to notice him looking, but she gave him plenty of opportunities. Like now. Even without cracking her eyelids to peek, she knew his eyes were roaming over her wet, sun-kissed body.

  She hoped the sight was driving him crazy with frustration. It would serve him right. He could have seen all this and more last night if he’d wanted. And touched it, too, the way she yearned for him to run his strong, sensitive hands over her skin right now. She wasn’t going to ask, though. One rejection was more than enough. She wasn’t going to put herself in a position to go through that humiliation again.

  She didn’t know why he’d turned her down, but it hadn’t been because he wasn’t attracted to her. That much was obvious. For some reason he was denying his body’s desires and resisting the powerful forces drawing them together. Well, she felt no obligation to make it easy for him. She wasn’t going to shield him from temptation. If he lost control and abandoned his restraint, she’d welcome him eagerly. Meanwhile she would take whatever small, vindictive pleasure she could from knowing he wanted what he wasn’t allowing himself to have.

  Which was pretty much zero. She sighed and flipped over, letting her feet drift to the sand. She kept her eyes closed long enough to give him a chance to avert his gaze while she sluiced the water out of her face and pushed her hair back. When she straightened, he was looking out past the float-lined rope that ringed the swimming area.

  Juanita longed to wrap her arms around his body and run her hands over his broad, bare chest. But after what he’d said last night, that would be inappropriate, if not unforgivably rude. She should have kept her mouth shut. Then maybe they could have continued to steal touches and kisses the way they’d done yesterday, in the name of their act.

  Ryan pointed to a spot in the water a dozen feet away. “Look.”

  Juanita peered where he indicated. A long, silvery fish darted through the dappled sunlight. She held her breath until it swam out of sight, then let out a long exhale. “I’m still not used to the water being so clear. It’s like a swimming pool.”

  “Nicer than murky Galveston water, that’s for sure.”

  “Yes, although I miss having breakers to play in.” The water in this sheltered cove lapped the short, steep beach with tiny waves no bigger than those along the edge of a lake.

  “Not that Galveston has many of those, either, unless a storm is blowing in.” Ryan grinned at her. “Don’t tell my parents, but once when I was in high school some friends and I drove down to the beach while a tropical storm was out in the Gulf. One of them had a surfboard. The waves were huge, ten or twelve feet tall. We took turns surfing all afternoon. I think every one of us came close to drowning four or five times. It was amazing.”

  Juanita shuddered. “You’re crazy.”

  “Looking back now, I tend to agree with you, but back then it seemed like a grand adventure. Once I got the hang of staying on the board, it felt like flying. There was this one wave I caught at exactly the right spot. I must have ridden it for a full minute, sliding down the slope with it curling over me, just like you see on TV.”

  For a moment Juanita could imagine it, wild and free and exhilarating. The light in Ryan’s eyes and the passion in his voice made her feel as if she were there with him, soaring recklessly through the rising storm.

  Ryan’s voice turned rueful. “Then I lost my balance and fell, and the board cracked me on the back of my head. I had a lump for a week. When my mom noticed, I had to lie and tell her I’d slipped in the shower and hit my head on the tub.”

  Juanita shook her head, laughing. “Surely there are plenty of ways to have fun that aren’t quite so dangerous.”

  “The danger is what gives it the thrill,” Ryan protested. “Safer things aren’t the same.”

  “Maybe, but you can’t enjoy the thrill if you’re dead. Give me a roller coaster with a nice secure harness. Or I might be persuaded to try ziplining if the equipment has passed all its inspections. But that’s about as much adrenaline as I can handle.”

  Ryan sighed. “I think I must be getting old, because I wouldn’t do it again now. But I’m glad I did then. At least I have the memories.” His mouth twisted into a crooked smile. “And I guess I can think of a few things that
are just as much fun without being dangerous. At least not in the same way.” His gaze flicked down over Juanita’s body, then away.

  Her pulse jumped. “Would you be glad you took the risk, afterward?”

  “Maybe.” He took a deep breath, his eyes returning to Juanita’s face. “Probably.”

  She stepped closer to him, stopping while a ripple of water still separated their bodies. “I would.”

  He nodded slowly. Not breaking their gaze, he reached for her. His hands settled on each side of her waist.

  Juanita closed her eyes as he drew her forward. She laid her hands flat against his chest and ran them up and over his shoulders. His hands slid around to her back and pulled her into his body. She savored the length of him against her chest and belly and thighs, in warm contrast to the cool water. Her hands slipped over his wet skin, and his roamed over hers. She lifted her face to welcome his hungry mouth.

  Desire roared in her ears and flamed in her belly. This time she wasn’t going to hold back. He’d have to stop her if he didn’t like it. She stroked her palms from his shoulders all the way down his back and over the waistband of his swim trunks, cupping the taut curves of his buttocks in her hands, massaging his firm muscles through the fabric.

  He inhaled but didn’t pull away. Cautiously at first, then urgently, he mirrored her movement. Juanita arched into the wonderful pressure of his hands on her butt. She ground her hips into his, rubbing her belly against the hot, hard shaft trapped between them.

  Ryan groaned and panted, dropping his head to rest on her shoulder. One hand groped upward. Juanita reached for it and twined her fingers in his, then pressed his palm to her breast. He kneaded it, his thumb finding her nipple and rubbing it through the thin fabric of her bikini. She shuddered and moaned and fumbled to shove the cloth out of the way, desperate for his bare skin on hers.