squirmed and bucked her hips until he was no longer inside her. Bummer.
“We have to get going,” she said breathlessly when he gave her tortured ribs a break. “We have to be somewhere at noon.”
“Where?” he asked.
“It’s a surprise.”
“Well, if it’s only half as good as this surprise has been, I’m in for a treat.”
Less than an hour later, Brian found himself face to face with an enormous dapple gray horse. He had wondered why Myrna had made him put on shoes and had changed out of her skirt before they’d left the hotel.
“And I’m supposed to climb on this thing?” he asked Myrna, who was already astride a sleek black horse and waiting for Brian to find his balls. Balls that had apparently fled the scene when faced with riding an unpredictable ton of muscle, teeth and pelt.
“You don’t like horses?” she asked.
He didn’t have the heart to disappoint her after she’d gone to all the trouble to do something romantic for him, so onto the horse he climbed.
“I do like horses,” he lied. He’d never actually been on a horse. He had stroked one’s nose at a petting zoo as a child and almost lost a few fingers for his trouble, but he didn’t tell Myrna that.
His heart was thudding like a jackhammer, but he managed to offer Myrna a brave smile from his perch on the saddle.
“And I thought you looked sexy on a motorcycle,” Myrna purred, eyeing him in that way that always made his belly tighten. If she was looking at him like that, he was guaranteed to get some in the very near future.
They rode toward the beach, sand sucking at the horses’ hooves, but the animals seemed to be used to it. Myrna rode with confidence—she’d obviously done this before. Brian just tried not to fall to his death. He was positive that if he fell out of his saddle, the horse would use him as a doormat to wipe the sand from its hooves.
“What are you doing back there?” Myrna called over her shoulder. “Come up here beside me so we can talk.”
Brian bounced in his saddle slightly, having no idea how to get the horse to go faster. It wasn’t like it had an accelerator. “Um, yeah, I’ll get right on that,” he muttered under his breath.
Myrna tugged the reins to pull her horse to a halt and waited for Brian to catch up.
“You don’t look like you’re enjoying this,” Myrna said.
“I’m trying to.”
“Have you ever been on a horse?”
“Not exactly, no,” he admitted.
“Why didn’t you tell the guide that when he asked?”
“Because he if he’d known, he would have tagged along, and I wanted to be alone with you.”
She tilted her head and shook it slightly, a tender smile curving her pouty lips upward. “Do you know how hard it is to get mad at you?”
“Why would you be mad at me?”
“Because you lied and put your life in danger.”
“I didn’t lie,” he said defensively. His horse shifted, and he slid sideways in the saddle. He yanked the reins to keep himself from falling, and the horse tossed its gigantic head in protest.
“Yes, you did. The guide asked if you had any experience riding, and you said you had tons of experience.”
“He didn’t say riding a horse, he said riding. I’ve taken a lot of rides in my life. You should know, since you’re my favorite mount.”
She leaned over and smacked his arm. “Brian Sinclair, you are impossible.”
He chuckled. “You know you like it.”
She glowered at him.
“Now show me how to work this thing before I fall off and break my neck.”
She gave him basic instructions on stopping and going, on turning, and on how to use the stirrups to distribute his weight rather than yanking on the reins as if they were a lifeline. Soon he was brave enough to urge the horse into a canter. And he was even having fun.
“Where did you learn to ride?” he asked Myrna.
“Oh…” she said, looking taken aback by his question. She tucked a stray strand of auburn hair behind her ear and avoided his gaze. “Farm-girl requirement.”
He knew her well enough to know when she was hiding something from him. “Are you sure there isn’t more to it than that?”
“I did ride a little when I was young. Growing up in the country, most of my friends had horses. I never had one of my own until…”
Brian lifted an eyebrow at her.
“Jeremy bought me one as a wedding gift.” She cringed as if she’d just spoke an absolute horror.
“Oh,” he said flatly.
“And after I got attached to her, he sold her to a feed mill as one of my punishments.”
“Punishment? For what?” He knew she liked to avoid all conversations involving the hell her ex-husband had put her through, but he thought sharing what had happened was healthier for her. And he was more than happy to have additional reasons to hate Jeremy Condaroy. The guy was at the very top of his shit list.
She shrugged. “I don’t remember.” She leaned into her horse and yelled, “Race you to that bent palm tree!”
Her horse dashed off at a sprint, and Brian’s mount took a cue from Myrna’s and raced after her. The sand blurred beneath him as sure and steady hooves closed the distance between the two horses. Brian could almost understand why some people enjoyed this—the wind in his hair was exhilarating—but he didn’t feel he had enough control of the enormous animal with a mind of its own.
Up ahead, a pair of riders approached. Myrna didn’t seem to notice as she was determined to be the first to reach the bent palm tree in the distance. Brian recognized the riders almost at once: Kev and Gail. Was it coincidence that they’d decided to ride horses on the same day at the same time and on the same beach where Brian and Myrna rode? Brian sincerely doubted it. He reckoned that Gail had been eavesdropping on his and Myrna’s plans for the day.
Annoyed, Brian yanked the reins to turn his galloping horse in the opposite direction. The animal apparently didn’t appreciate his rough treatment, but he did turn. Directly toward the ocean. The horse dashed into the oncoming waves and deciding at the last moment he didn’t want to take a swim came to a sudden halt. Brian went sailing over the horse’s head and landed with an enormous splash somewhere in the Caribbean.
Chapter Seven
When Myrna figured out who the pair of riders approaching and waving excitedly were, she cringed. What was with this Kev guy and his soon-to-be wife? She glanced over her shoulder to see if Brian had recognized their uninvited company. She wasn’t sure why Brian was racing directly toward the water, but her heart stopped for several beats when she watched his horse stop short. Brian flew through air and landed in the water with an impressive splash. At least he had a relatively soft landing. He was never going to let her plan an outing again.
She slowed her horse and turned her in the opposite direction, hurrying to check on Brian and make sure he hadn’t drowned. Even though he surfaced immediately, her heart was thundering in her chest and her palms had grown slick with sweat.
“Brian!” she called as she dismounted and rushed into the surf to check on him. “Are you okay?”
“I hate fucking horses!” he grumbled as he slogged toward the shore. Water flattened his dark shoulder-length hair and dripped from his strong jawline. His off-black cotton shirt and shorts were plastered to his body.
Myrna decided not to point out that it had been operator error that had sent him on a trajectory with a dip in the ocean. Or that she thought he looked sexy soaking wet.
“I’m sure the horse didn’t mean to throw you,” Myrna said.
She glanced over her shoulder at the guilty animal and had to admit that the horse looked rather amused. She cringed, hoping Brian didn’t notice that more than likely the beast had purposefully gotten his revenge for being improperly handled by an amateur.
Brian stalked past her and stood looking up the beach with his fists resting on his hips. His fury wasn’t direc
ted at the gray horse that had discovered a stray bit of grass to nibble. Brian’s anger was about to be unleashed upon the smiling couple headed their way.
Myrna hurried to stand in front of him to try to calm his fury. He tended to be easy-going until he got pissed, and then he became a bit of a hothead.
“Brian, please be reasonable. He’s just a fan who wants to spend time with you. He doesn’t mean any harm.”
Her words seemed to bounce right off of him; he didn’t even acknowledge that she’d spoken. Touching his arm, shaking his shoulder, putting her face in his—nothing worked. He completely ignored her.
“Brian!”
“You said I could punch him in the nose the next time he bugged us. You wouldn’t go back on your word now, would you?”
“But—”
He lifted a hand to silence her, and she automatically flinched. She didn’t think he would hit her—she knew he wouldn’t—but she’d been hit enough times in the past that it had become an instinctual reaction.
She opened her eyes at his inrush of breath.
“You thought I was going to hit you,” he said, gathering her in his arms.
She pulled away—because he was wet, not because she was afraid of him.
“I would never . . . ” he said in a raw voice. “Myrna, I would never hit you. Ever.”
“I know that,” she said, but she didn’t have time to explain further, because they suddenly had company.
“Dude,” Kev said with a hearty chuckle, “are you okay? I saw you take a dive off that horse.”
“Yeah, I meant to do that,” Brian said dully and reached for Myrna’s hand.
He stared at her, his head shaking back and forth slightly as if he was too stunned to put his thoughts into words. And they couldn’t very well have a very personal conversation with Tweedle Dumb and Tweedle Dumber hanging on their every word.
She needed these two to get a clue. Immediately.
“I know you’re excited about meeting Brian,” Myrna said to Kev, “but it’s incredibly rude of you to continue to harass him. To harass us. How would you feel if someone you didn’t know followed you everywhere and interrupted your honeymoon?” She looked from Kev to Gail and back to Kev. Both of them seemed to be surprised that she knew how to speak. “Well?”
“I dunno.” Kev shrugged. “I guess I figured he was used to it by now.”
“Considering that this is his first honeymoon in Aruba, how could he be used to it?”
“Myrna,” Brian murmured, still looking entirely shell-shocked.
“I meant,” Kev said, “he should be used to people wanting to meet him.”
“You already met him,” Myrna pointed out.
“But I don’t have any proof. My boys back home think I’m making this shit up.”
Myrna shook her head at him in disbelief. “That’s what this is about? You want proof?”
So an ashen-faced, dripping wet, and unsmiling Brian permitted several unflattering pictures of himself to be taken with Kev. And with Gail. And with Kev and Gail. And then they wanted one of him with Myrna. And then one of Myrna, Brian and Kev. Followed by another of Myrna, Brian and Gail. A few more of Brian by himself. They even stopped some kind and accommodating passerby to take a group photo of all four of them.
“So you’ll leave us alone now?” Myrna asked after they had gotten their fill of pictures. They had enough for a Brian of the Day calendar at that point.
“We’ll try to behave,” Kev said, climbing up on his horse again. “You just have no idea how cool it is to be on the same planet as Master Sinclair, much less the same island.”
She actually did know how cool that was, but she was incredibly happy to see those two leave. She turned to Brian with a flippant comment about the other couple poised on her lips, but she found herself crushed against his chest before she could utter a single word.
“I would never hit you, Myrna. Not ever. You have to believe me. The thought of you being in pain tears me up inside. I can’t even imagine how I’d feel knowing I was the one who’d hurt you.”
He was still thinking about her flinching from him? Sometimes she forgot how sensitive he could be.
“I didn’t think you were going to hit me, sweetheart,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest. “It was just an automatic reaction. It had nothing to do with you.”
“And everything to do with him.” Brian’s final word dripped with so much venom that Jeremy had likely just keeled over in jail from an unexplained case of poisoning.
“Jeremy is out of my life now.” But would he ever be entirely out of her head? He was definitely there less frequently than he had been even six months ago, but his presence in her thoughts still caught her off guard much more often than she’d like.
“Will you tell me what you did to make him sell your horse?” Brian asked.
She stiffened. She hated being thrown back into her past with Jeremy. She’d much rather bury it than stare it in the face.
“I gave a cute waiter at the country club a thirty percent tip after I went riding one day.”
Brian’s arms tightened around her. “That’s it?”
She pulled away and looked up into her husband’s gentle brown eyes.
“Jeremy took it as a sign that I wanted to be the guy’s whore. I didn’t even notice the guy was attractive until Jeremy started yelling at him for looking at me.”
“How did you stand living with that guy?”
Myrna shook her head. “I wasn’t living when I was with him,” she said. “I don’t think I really started living until I met you.”
His lips were trembling as he smiled. “Mrs. Sinclair, I do believe that’s the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
She laughed softly and slid her hands down his back so she could grab onto his firm ass with both hands. “Don’t get used to it.”
“You know what really sucks right now?” he asked.
She lifted an eyebrow at him. As far as she was concerned, nothing sucked about this tender moment in his arms. “What?”
“That I’m drenched and you’re perfectly dry.”
Uh oh.
“Brian, you wouldn’t,” she said as he lifted her into his strong arms.
He grinned down at her flushed face. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“I might get hurt,” she reasoned.
“Nope,” he said, splashing into the surf until the waves were crashing against his thighs. “Just wet.”
She expected him to drop her into the ocean, but instead he sank down to sit in the water with her in his lap. His tight hold felt as if he didn’t want to let her go. But maybe he held her only because she had a death grip locked around his neck and he didn’t want to risk decapitation.
“We could have put on our swimsuits first,” Myrna said as she tugged at the legs of her capris, which were twisted uncomfortably around her thighs and calves.
“I thought we were being adventurous today.”
She snuggled up against his shoulder and then spit salty water out of her mouth as a rather aggressive wave washed over her face. “The concierge assured me that horseback riding was more romantic than skydiving.”
“Depends,” he said. “If we did a tandem dive, we might get in a quickie before we crashed to our deaths. Double suicides are intensely romantic.”
Another wave washed over Myrna’s face, and she sputtered. “Okay, I’m starting to think you’re trying to drown me.”
He tipped his head, studying her as if realizing for the first time that her head was lower than his. So while the waves were churning about his broad shoulders, they were mostly sloshing over her mouth and nose.
He scooted back toward the shore, pulling her with him until they were both safe from all but the tallest waves. He settled her
Take Me to Paradise Page 6
