He shook off that thought. He had too much swirling around in his fevered mind as it was. He fiddled with the menu, which wasn’t for Sam’s. That parking lot had proved to be packed, so he’d driven closer to Morning Star and eventually found a small restaurant tucked below a resort on the opposite side of the cove from his hotel. He could see the lights twinkling from the rooms of his hotel and the glow of the bonfire still roaring on the beach.
“Do you know what you want?” Laurel asked.
He pulled his gaze away from the streaks of gold limning the water in the cove and laid his menu down without looking at it. He looked directly at her instead. “I think I do.”
Her grip on the menu tightened and she swallowed. Then she closed her menu, as well. “Me, too.”
His lips twitched. “Does it have anything to do with seafood?”
She smiled and he liked the confidence he saw in her eyes. “Not unless you plan on going swimming first as a way to draw out this torture even further.”
He slid his hand across the table, let his fingertips drift over the backs of her fingers, liking the slight shiver that raced over her. “Torture? Gee, most women I take out to dinner appreciate the chance to have someone else cook them a meal.”
She lifted one shoulder in a light shrug, the setting sun highlighting the teasing glint in her eyes. “I’m not most women.”
“On that we’re agreed.”
She arched an eyebrow, but he merely held her gaze steadily.
“So, is it the company then?” he asked.
“If your company was in question,” she continued, “I’d hardly have agreed to dinner. Much less…”
She let that last part trail off, her boldness faltering, then disappearing completely. She went to slide her hand away from his touch, but he covered it, held on.
“Laurel.” He waited until she looked at him again. “You know what? Let’s have dinner. Maybe a walk on the beach. Talk. I enjoy your company. I’d like to have it for as long as you’ll allow. Period.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it again on a short laugh. “Thank you,” she said finally. “I guess I’m not as cosmopolitan as I’d wanted to believe.”
Now he laughed. “Suave is not exactly my middle name.”
“I don’t know, you were pretty smooth back there on the dock.”
“Then you didn’t feel my knees knocking together.” Or my heart trying to pound its way out of my chest. He sat there, knowing he wanted her more than he wanted his next breath, feeling a bit poleaxed by the intensity of it…and yet he’d settle for dinner, conversation, a short stroll. If it meant keeping her around a bit longer.
Which answered his earlier question. It was about her, not opportunity and availability. If he were home, yes, he’d be more than willing to date her, court her, do what was necessary to earn the right to intimacy with her. And he’d probably even enjoy the journey as much as the destination. Despite the nagging physical need, he was truly enjoying himself. Desire just added a nice edge to the whole thing, especially now that he knew she was feeling it herself.
Of course, the downside to this whole scenario was that he wasn’t home, which meant he didn’t have unlimited time to plan and execute a serious pursuit. In fact, what he had was dinner. And whatever time together she decided to give him afterward. And then…pfft.
He didn’t even know her yet, and it still pissed him off. Fate had finally put a woman in his path who literally stopped him in his tracks…only to serendipitously do it at a time when he couldn’t explore the possibilities with her. Beyond dinner.
Which he was wasting with all this meandering introspection.
“So…snapper?” he asked lightly, or as lightly as he was able. “Or steak?”
She held his gaze for another second, then slid her hand free so she could open the menu again. Sean curled his fingers into his palm and slid his own menu closer, then flipped it open. And he tried like hell not to give in to the urge to shove his chair back, yank her out of hers and carry her out of this place like a goddamn caveman.
Jesus, Gannon.
She looked over the top of her menu. “Snapper.”
He meant to glance up, just for a second, then look right back at his menu. He had to get a grip—both physically and mentally—before he made a complete ass out of himself or, worse, made her feel uncomfortable. Jack the intensity level way down, buddy. Dinner. Maybe a walk. Talk.
Then pfft.
He really had to work at remembering that last part.
He was a man who prized control, had spent years developing it on many professional levels. So why in the hell didn’t he seem to have any around her? He glanced up…and was instantly lost. Hooked, totally, on that face, those eyes, that half smile.
“So, did they really?”
“What?” he asked.
“Did they really shake? Because it might have been mine.”
What was she talking about?
At his confused look she said, “Your knees.”
“Knees,” he repeated, too busy staring at her mouth to really care what in the hell she was talking about.
“You don’t really want steak or snapper, do you?” she asked softly, steadily.
He merely shook his head, thinking honesty at this moment was probably stupid but unable, or unwilling, to be anything else with her. He wanted no regrets. Beyond his biggest one, that is. That he hadn’t met her anywhere else, at any other time or place, than here and now.
She laid down her menu and stood. She stepped around the corner of the table and held out her hand.
“But—”
“Walk. Talk. I need that much. First.”
Her hand was steady, as was her gaze, but he found his own traveling down her body. To her knees. And he smiled then. They were, in fact, quivering. Just a little.
He shoved back his chair, tossed a few dollars on the table to make up for taking up space for the ten minutes they’d been there…then took her hand. Small, fine-boned, but not delicate. At least not fragile. Her slender fingers entwined with his much wider ones, yet he sensed her strength was somehow equal to his, maybe greater. After all, the simple touch made more than his knees quiver. In fact, it sent a little spike of energy…or something, through his entire system.
They stepped outside and the night breeze snatched at their clothing, pulling it then plastering it against them as it whipped gently, warmly, around them. There was a small sign with an arrow pointing to a narrow stone pathway that meandered down to the shore. She tugged his hand.
“You sure you don’t want to eat? Just because I—”
“I don’t think I could, anyway.” She laughed a little. “I have all these butterflies in my stomach.” She glanced up at him. “Maybe later?”
Later. That was a word he wanted to hear in conjunction with her as often as possible. “Yeah, definitely.” She went to move down the first set of stairs, but he held her back, just for a moment. “Just so you know, there’s one or two flapping around inside me at the moment, too.”
Her smile softened, relaxed, widened.
It took incredible willpower not to drag them both toward the front of the restaurant, to where his Jeep was parked, and race around the cove to his hotel. Hell, at the moment he felt as though he could just fly there without benefit of transportation. Instead he smiled back, squeezed her hand a little and led her down the stone stairs.
After the first curve in the path, the lighting from the restaurant and hotel situated above it was almost completely extinguished.
“Looks like we missed the show,” she said, pointing to the last sliver of orange that was about to slip behind the horizon.
Sean guided her down a steep part of the steps, beyond the small stand of trees, to a longer, straighter part of the path that provided them with an uninhibited view of the sky. He looked up. “I think the next show is just about to begin, though.”
They paused, both looking up, waiting for the first star, then the next, to twi
nkle to life. From somewhere up the hill, music started. He’d seen a small stage in a corner of the restaurant, had wondered briefly if he’d get to dance with her. The music was slow, throbbing, wafting downward, dropping over them like a soft, filmy net, encapsulating them. It seemed the most natural thing in the world to turn her into his body, pull her close and move to the rhythm.
When he wrapped one arm around her waist, she did the same. Their other hands remained linked, swaying loose and relaxed down by their thighs. They were silent, as if neither wanted to break the spell. She eventually let her cheek drift to his shoulder, and he nudged his nose into her hair. She smelled like salt tang and island air and something else that was probably all her. He wanted to know more about that last part, wanted to know her well enough that he could identify her by her scent alone. Somehow he didn’t think it would take all that long. One dance, maybe.
They swayed together as stars continued to spark to life overhead.
Sean slid his hand up her back, cupped the nape of her neck, liking the feel of the silky slide of her hair as it caressed his skin. She tipped her head back easily and it seemed the most natural thing in the world to dip his lips to hers, take her mouth and sink into another soul-searing kiss.
And yet her smile made him pause. “What?” he asked, a breath away.
“I was just thinking.”
They kept swaying. “Is that a good thing?”
“I don’t know. I was thinking that it’s amazing what a little music on a starlit path can do to make a girl feel very…”
Sean’s lips quirked. “Cosmopolitan?”
Laurel laughed, but nodded.
Sean stared down into her eyes, so open, so expressive. He wondered how she kept them shuttered during a trial, how she could ever maintain the impassive demeanor so important to her position. His grin faded slowly and he smoothed the palm of his hand around so he could stroke her jaw then rub his thumb across her lips.
Her shudder of delight made his body grow hard. Harder. Having her brush, even lightly, against him had been sweet torture.
“We haven’t done the talking part yet,” he said.
“We will,” she said.
He could only nod. At that moment it seemed impossible that this couldn’t go on indefinitely, that they didn’t have the luxury of time on their side. A whole world of time, a whole world of possibilities. He couldn’t seem to make himself understand, much less believe, how limited this was going to have to be. “Yes, we will.”
“I feel like…” She stopped, shook her head, smiled that half smile of hers.
He turned her face back to his. “Like we have so much to talk about…but very little needs saying right now?”
She stilled, just for a moment, but he understood.
“Sort of terrifying, isn’t it?” he asked softly.
“Completely.”
He pulled their joined hands up and turned hers so he could press a kiss to the backs of her fingers. “Laurel—”
She shook her head, pressed her finger to his lips. “Later. We’ll have time.”
He wanted to ask how she could be so sure, but he nodded instead, wanting to believe. Wishing he had more confidence in fate.
She moved away first, pulling him back up the path.
“No walk, either?” he asked.
She grinned over her shoulder. “I’m not much for getting sand in uncomfortable places.”
He laughed. “Oddly enough, I mentioned something about that very sentiment earlier today.”
“Something else we agree on, then.”
She hit the top of the path and he tugged on her hand, the momentum swinging her around and right into him. “Something else? What was the first thing?”
She lifted up on her toes, took his face in her hands and kissed him. No gentle peck, no teasing come-on. She flat-out kissed him. A heartbeat later, he was kissing her back. Things rapidly escalated from there.
She broke away first, hand to her chest, face flushed, but laughing. “That we’ll never make it to the room if we do any more of that here.”
“Ah.”
“Ah.” She danced up the stairs that led around to the front of the restaurant and the parking lot. “Race you to the car.”
She was gone before he could answer.
He caught up to her and grabbed her waist an instant before she reached the Jeep. She shrieked as he spun them both around, falling into the passenger seat. She was sprawled across him, both of them breathless with laughter. He pushed her hair back from her face with his fingers. “And here I said I wasn’t going to chase beautiful women around the island while I was here.”
“I can’t imagine why. You’re quite good at it.”
He grinned. “I was inspired.”
“How far away did you say your hotel was?”
“About five minutes.”
She crawled off of him, then dragged him out of the seat. “Good. I won’t have time to lose my cosmopolitan edge between here and there.” She ducked past him and climbed into the passenger seat. “But you better hurry. It might be a Cinderella-type deal.”
He stood there, thinking he’d had it right all along. With the right person, you just knew. The hell with pfft. Grinning like a fool, he scooted it around the back of the Jeep and hopped in. “Cinderella, huh?”
She folded her hands in her lap, pressed her knees together and gave him a regal look. “One never knows.”
Suddenly he had no problem picturing her in charge of an unruly courtroom, although he was beginning to suspect that Judge Patrick’s courtrooms were rarely out of order.
“So, you’re saying we only get until midnight?”
She maintained the regal pose as she regarded him in the moonlight. “I suppose that depends. Are you claiming to be my Prince Charming?”
“In all honesty, I’ve never once been called a prince.”
Her lips twitched. “Well, honesty will get you places being a prince never would.”
His eyes widened. “Really?”
She nodded.
He leaned closer. “Can I honestly tell you, then, just how I plan on keeping the princess locked in my tower beyond the midnight deadline? Making her forget there ever was a deadline?”
She shivered, rubbing her arms, and he knew it wasn’t the night air, as the temperature was still quite balmy. “By making me forget I ever came up with this stupid princess idea in the first place?”
He stroked her cheek, her lips, then slipped his hand behind her neck and pulled her mouth up to meet his. “Not a stupid idea,” he murmured against her lips. “I’m just glad we already cleared up my princely status, or lack of one, so you won’t be in for any surprises later.”
“Oh,” she said, feigning disappointment. “Not any?”
She took his breath away. Serious one minute, silly the next. Confident one minute, unsure the next. Smart, sharp and fast with a comeback. He’d never—not ever—played with anyone like this. She was like some kind of drug and he was already addicted.
Sure, maybe it was the island air, the freedom of being a thousand miles from home. But he didn’t think so. “I guess we’ll have to see about that,” he responded.
He felt as though he was falling into her as he took her mouth, her tongue, toyed with her, played with her, encouraged her to do the same. When they finally came up for air, she collapsed limply back in her seat. “Suddenly five minutes is seeming like a really long drive.”
Sean laughed. And couldn’t agree with her more. “Well, if I don’t put my hands on the steering wheel, instead of on you, it’s going to be a hell of a lot longer.”
She pointed toward the main road. “Home, James.” Then she rolled her head toward him and, even in the moonlight, the glint in her eyes sparkled. “Please.”
“I aim to do exactly that.”
She moaned softly, then turned her head to stare at the road ahead, wrapping her arms around her waist. As if she were so sensitized that even the night air was stirring her up
. He suspected it was…because he was feeling exactly the same way. The handful of miles back to the hotel seemed like a cross-country trip. His grip on the steering wheel tightened with every passing minute, just to keep him from touching her.
In fact, when he finally, blessedly, pulled into the hotel parking lot, he wasn’t even sure he could trust himself to make it to the room if he so much as brushed against her. He felt like a stupid, undersexed teenager. Until he looked at her. And then he felt very adult, with very adult needs, cravings, desires. He grinned. And, thankfully, as an adult, he knew just how to go about getting them all assuaged.
Fortunately his brain was still functioning well enough to allow him to make a stop in the lobby gift shop.
“You weren’t kidding when you said you didn’t come here to chase island women,” was the only comment she made when he stopped at the small array of contraceptives on the end of one rack.
He looked up at her. “No, I wasn’t.” And they both knew, had already known, that this was something they didn’t normally do. Wouldn’t do. Except they could no longer imagine not doing it. As soon as possible, please.
She raised an eyebrow when he grabbed the value-pack box instead of the individual packets. He just smiled and shrugged, then laughed when she reached past him and tossed another box on the counter with his. “Apparently I’m the one in for a few surprises,” he said. “I just hope I’m up to the challenge.”
She looped her arm through his as they strode across the lobby to the elevator. “I didn’t say which midnight.”
His body leaped in response to that, the very words he so wanted to hear. That this didn’t have to end so soon. He didn’t want to think about endings, though. He was too busy anticipating the beginning.
The elevator doors slid open and fortunately no one got on with them. He had her up against the wall before the doors slid shut. “Do you have any idea what you do to me?”
She was already panting. “Oh, I have a pretty fair clue.”
He pushed his hips into hers. “Do you realize I have never, not ever, been this incredibly wired to have someone?”
Sean Page 5
