by Scott, Lisa
They climbed into the fanciest limo she’d ever seen, but still, she was distracted by the sights and sounds. She fingered her orchid lei as the limo shuttled them to their hotel. Spiky green fronds danced in the breeze on top of tall, skinny palm trees. Sunlight glinted off the ocean while gulls bobbed and swooped down to the water. She lowered her window to get a better look. The weeds growing along the highway looked like her houseplants back home. She inhaled deeply and decided it even smelled exotic.
Teague was watching her. Dang, she felt stupid. Like a dog out for a ride, sniffing the breeze. She put up her window and shrugged. “I never thought I’d get a chance to come to Hawaii. It’s probably no big deal to you, but I think it’s incredible.”
He stretched out his legs and draped his arm across the seat. “You’re right. It is incredible. Sometimes I forget.”
She shifted in her seat and looked back out the window again, her chin in her hand.
He reached across her and put the window back down.
A THRONG OF photographers clustered outside the hotel, snapping photos as they checked in. Don’t these people ever take a break? she wondered. Teague just smiled and laid his arm across her shoulder. Then his grin dimmed. Kate followed his gaze to the most beautiful woman she’d ever seen holding court in the lobby.
The woman perked up when she saw him. “If it isn’t T-Rex.” A beautiful, petite blonde, she stood with a hand on her hip, tapping a high-heeled toe. “I’m still wiping your big track marks off my heart.” Her wild, curly hair spilled over her shoulders like ringlets of spun gold. Her huge, round eyes were the oddest shade of amber, and she had breasts that were big, firm and on display for the world to see, but she was pointing them at Teague.
Kate cursed the anger bubbling inside her. How could a normal person be jealous of someone so unreal?
Teague’s arm slipped off Kate. “Hey, Simone. How have you been?”
She walked toward him. “Not as busy as you.” Her eyes flicked over to Kate. “Always looking for a way to keep your name in the rags.”
Kate looked for the nearest floral arrangement to hide behind, but Teague snagged her hand before she could flee. “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Kate Riley.”
Simone stared for another moment, like Kate was an informational safety display. “I read in the papers.” Simone did not offer her hand.
“Nice to meet you,” Kate said checking out Simone from head to toe hoping to find some tiny flaw. No such luck.
“We’ve got to check in, Simone.” Teague wouldn’t look Kate in the eyes.
Kate had to sneak a peek at Simone again to make sure she was real. The woman looked like she’d been airbrushed.
Simone shook her hair off her shoulders. “I’m sure I’ll be seeing you, Teague,” she said, ignoring Kate. “I’m in the suite on the 27th floor.” She winked at him and sauntered away.
Kate blew out the breath she’d been holding. “I deserve hazard pay for that.”
Teague frowned. “My relationships don’t end well, I can tell you that.”
She glared at Simone and her perfect backside—perfect everything. Kissing Kate must have been like locking lips with his sister in comparison.
Teague grabbed her hand. “Come on.” They walked up to the desk to check in.
Kate couldn’t wait to hunker down in her room and hide. Maybe they wouldn’t have to spend much time together at all. She glanced around the lobby, wondering who would make a move on Teague next.
A slender Hawaiian woman with long, black hair, and a grass skirt approached them with another lei. “Aloha.”
“Aloha,” Kate said, letting the woman place the flowers around Kate’s neck.
“And for your husband?” the woman asked, gesturing to Teague.
“No, not my husband,” Kate said nervously.
“Boyfriend,” Teague added helpfully, kissing Kate’s cheek.
“Now, now, honey. Plenty of time for that later,” she said with a tight grin.
“As you wish.” He smirked.
The clerk at the desk tapped on his computer. “Ah yes, Mr. Reynolds and guest.” He stared at the screen and his mouth formed a thin line. “I’m afraid we could not accommodate your last-minute request for a suite. But we’ve upgraded you to our beach bungalow. There’s a nice big king bed, and you’re right down by the water on your own private beach.”
“There’s one king bed?” Kate gripped the counter for support.
He looked up from the computer. “Yes. Don’t worry. It’s very private. I assure you, these are our finest accommodations.” He nodded with a smile.
Teague’s lips curled into a grin like the Grinch’s after he plundered Whoville. “Sounds perfect.” He snatched the key card and grabbed Kate’s hand.
She could barely take in the glorious setting: the crisp, white, poolside cabanas, the manmade rivers and koi ponds, the gigantic tropical floral arrangements. Good golly, she didn’t know places like this were real. But her mind was swirling around something even more unreal: she and Teague would be sharing a room. A room with one bed.
“I couldn’t exactly say no,” he said, as if reading her thoughts.
When they arrived at the bungalow, the bellhop opened the door and several attendants carried in their luggage. Once they left, they closed the door behind them, leaving Kate and Teague alone in the little love nest.
“This is nice,” Kate said, trying to sound casual when she really wanted to squeal. She walked around the big airy space, running her fingers over the finery. Gauzy netting draped the big bed tucked in the corner. A marble table held a basket of tropical fruit and a bottle of champagne. A couch and giant TV flanked the opposite wall. She peeked out the window. The cabana was tucked in a small cove surrounded by tall palm trees, providing plenty of privacy, just as promised. A hammock hung between two of the trees, and a hot tub bubbled on a small patio off the living room. It was breathtaking. But there was just the one big room and a bathroom. There would be no hiding from Teague.
“I’m sorry you don’t have your own accommodations,” he said, sitting on the couch, stretching back. “I can sleep on this tonight.”
She hugged her arms around her. “I’ll take it. I’m smaller, you wouldn’t get any sleep.” So much for spending very little time together. “Can I just stay in here today?”
The bungalow seemed like a dream, with no photographers or superstar girlfriends kicking around. “If you want to go out by yourself, that’s fine,” she said. “Say I have jet lag.” That was probably her best plan: spend as little time with Teague as possible. A gorgeous man in a gorgeous setting was too hard to resist. There was probably some mathematical equation to prove it.
He grinned. “I’ll say we both have jet lag. Let’s stay here together. We can order room service later. But first, I’m dying to lie in the sun.” He got up and rummaged through his suitcase. “Be right back.” While he ducked into the bathroom to change, she fished out her swimsuit and groaned. The damn makeover team sent her a bikini. A bikini! She was definitely a one-piece girl.
Teague walked out of the room and she sank to the bed. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man. His biceps bulged as he reached for a towel, and his abs would certainly inspire some naughty dreams. She gulped down the squeal that might slip through her lips and looked up at him. Wow. Lord, she didn’t say that out loud, did she?
He stood with his legs apart and put his hands on his hips. “Your turn.”
For what? She nodded and scuttled into the bathroom like a crab trying to outrun a seagull that could swallow her whole. She undid her ponytail and shook out her hair. It fell in waves past her shoulders, but the circles-under-the-eyes jet-lag look wasn’t working for her. She slipped off her clothes and stepped into the shimmery gold bikini. Bada-Bling. She might blind Teague. She slid on sunglasses that covered half her face and walked out.
“Whoa.”
She rolled her eyes. “I know. Talk to your stylist. She picked this flashy thing
out for me.” She grabbed a book and a tube of sunscreen and left the room.
He followed her and plopped into the chair next to her chaise lounge, then looked out over the sea at the misty mountains beyond. “That’s Molokai over there,” he told her. “Isn’t this gorgeous?”
A light breeze warmed her skin. She squeezed a dollop of white cream into her hand and smoothed it on her legs. “I don’t even have the words to tell you how amazing this is.” She rubbed the cream into her skin, fretting about the size of her thighs which had never bothered her before. Wondering if Simone had any arm jiggle at all, she tried imagining what a set of fake D’s would look like in this suit, all the while one hundred percent aware that Teague was watching her every stroke.
Was he amazed how much sunscreen it took to cover a regular-sized woman? She reached for her back and realized that wasn’t going to happen. Guess she was gonna burn, baby, burn.
“Let me help you with that.” Teague got up to squat next to her chair.
Her mouth turned into a tiny circle as she considered his proposition. “Sure.” She handed him the sunscreen and rolled onto her belly, relieved Teague couldn’t see her face. Or her stomach. She heard him squeeze the tube and held her breath as she waited for his touch. He started at the base of her neck and his strong fingers slid down her back. She gasped.
“I’m sorry. Is it cold?” His sultry voice might be enough to warm her up.
“Cold. Yes,” she lied. But no worries. Her medical training had prepared her for situations like this: situations of intense shock and trauma. Keep the victim talking, that’s what she had been told. Only this was the first time Kate had been the victim. Pick a boring topic. Something mundane, not at all related to bodies or sex or … Aw, hell! “It’s hot out, huh?”
Teague laughed. “You want to talk about the weather? Those are the kind of generic thoughts I generate, huh? Right, I forgot. You’d never be interested in someone like me.” His fingers moved across her shoulder blades with a nice, firm stroke.
“No. Yes. I mean, I just was wondering, is it always this hot here? I’ve never been to Hawaii. Or is this because of global warming or something?” Shut up, Kate. “What do you think about global warming? I mean, do you think it’s all real or just a load of bunk? You’re concerned about the environment, right?” What’s this nonsense? Blathering idiot, that’s what she was. She could address an auditorium full of twittering preteens but couldn’t carry on a simple conversation with a gorgeous man?
Teague was silent for a moment, probably stifling a laugh. She could hear him squeezing out more lotion, rubbing the cream between his hands to take the chill off, bless him, and then smoothing it along her spine.
“You mean, do I think things are getting hotter?” He snickered.
She was experiencing her own personal global warming. A sudden surge of embarrassment and desire can do that to a girl. “Well, yes. It is hotter, actually. Scientists say glaciers are melting … and temperatures are rising … New York could be underwater one day …” She caught her breath as his hands slid farther down her back and he ran two fingers under the string of her bikini top. Good golly.
Now his hands were flat, spread wide across her back. He massaged the lotion into her skin. This was much, much more than a sunscreen application. He grunted. “Is that such a bad thing? I like it hot.”
So much for her neutral, distracting topic.
The tropical smell of the lotion made her dizzy. “I just think it’s an important concern, is all.” Her tense muscles relaxed under his strong strokes. She tried not to think about what she looked like from Teague’s point of view and just enjoyed the feel of his hands on her warm skin, working down to her lower back.
Teague Reynolds was rubbing her where very few men had rubbed before.
“I agree, global warming is important,” he said. “And I want to be kept up to date on any temperature fluctuations around here. So let me know when things are getting too hot for you.” And with that he swiped two fingers under her bikini bottom, right over her buns. He leaned over her and dipped his mouth to her ear. “Or if they’re not hot enough.” His breath was fire on her skin.
She rolled over to face him and found herself between his arms. She was a silly rabbit caught between the paws of a tiger that was still deciding what to do with its prey. She let go of her breath. “Thank you.” He was inches away from a kiss.
His lips twitched into a devious smile. He’d promised this was going to be strictly business, but this didn’t feel like business at all. Risky business, if anything.
He traced his finger along her shoulder. “You have gorgeous skin. I’m happy to help you take care of it.” He brushed a strand of hair off her cheek. “No tattoos hiding anywhere?” His eyes danced as he hovered over her, teasing her.
And with that, a big wet blanket blotted out the flames licking her belly. “You mean like someone’s name on my butt?” Her chest tightened as she remembered the way he and Simone had ogled each other in the lobby. “Simone is definitely still interested in you.” Her stomach felt like an empty pit.
He sat back at the end of the lounge. “Hey, cool it, hot stuff. I told you, I’m not a cheater. It doesn’t matter what she wants.”
The magic moment had been swept off to sea. Kate crossed her arms. “We’re not actually dating, so it’s not cheating.” How easily she could channel her bratty twelve-year-old self. Probably because she spent her days surrounded by just such children.
Teague looked out to the ocean. “I wouldn’t want it to look that way.” He grabbed a handful of sand and let it slip through his fingers. His mood had definitely cooled.
So had hers. She wanted him to protest, that no, he was over Simone, that she was a nasty, beastly woman hiding in a perfect body for which she must have bargained with the devil. But he hadn’t.
Kate pushed up off the lounge and walked out into the water. She dove under without looking to see if he was following her. She realized she was being completely, embarrassingly, ridiculous, but she couldn’t help it. There was no fooling herself anymore—she wanted him, no matter how much she tried to deny it, no matter how hard her sensible side took her by the shoulders and shook no, no, no.
Luckily Miss Sensible would never let her give in. And that twenty-thousand-dollar bet would help back her up. Wanting something and going after it were two different things. She would not be going after Teague. Luckily, she had excellent willpower when it came to denying herself pleasure.
Chapter 8
TEAGUE WATCHED HER walk away. Saunter was a better word for it, with that sexy sway to her hips. Was she doing that on purpose? She looked amazing. Soft and rounded, like an old-fashioned Hollywood starlet, with her long wavy hair and big sunglasses. And that bikini might kill him, the way it molded to her curves. He could picture her as a pin up on some teenage boy’s room. In his room.
And putting on sunscreen? Pure torture. He wet his lips. If he didn’t know better, he’d think it was a trap she’d set for him, with that not-so-subtle discussion of global warming. But he must’ve been wrong. The way she skittered off into the ocean made it perfectly clear what she thought of him.
Teague got up from the beach chair and sloshed into the water. How did he manage to repel the one woman he found utterly intriguing? He didn’t have to do a damn thing to attract the attention of most women—they just showed up. But Kate couldn’t stand to be near him. What the hell? He was used to being the one pushing people away. He’d done it his whole life.
He dove in the water and swam after her. The water felt good on his skin; she would feel good on his skin. “We can blow off the festivities tonight, if you want. Let’s stay here. This is nice.” He could imagine pulling her against him right there, slipping off her bikini, finding each other in the warm, salty sea.
She stepped back, swaying her hands through the water, not looking at him. “I can stay here alone. Go do your thing. I’m fine here, really.” She fell back into the water, floated on
her back for a moment—which really seemed like torturous teasing, the way her breasts peeked above the waves as if they were saying, Hey there, come join me big fella—and then swam away from him, like an indecisive siren.
Well, damn. Why couldn’t he find the words to get through to her? Was he so used to a script that he couldn’t come up with his own lines to ask a beautiful woman, Hey, you thinking what I’m thinking?
Kate surfaced several feet away from him, peering off across the ocean. Her hair was sleek against her head, and drops of water clung to her skin like jewels. She saw him staring at her and snapped her head away. She looked so damned appealing, but she didn’t want him. She just wasn’t interested. Deal with it, dude. She really wants to win that bet. He shook his head in disbelief and walked back to shore. He lay on the chaise and his phone rang.
It was his publicist, June. That was one way to bring his boil down to a simmer. “Yes?”
“How much do you know about this woman? I just got a call from a reporter asking about her stepfather’s outstanding taxes. She’s bad news, Teague. Dump the hick and hook up with an old girlfriend. That’d get the press riled up. Restore your bad-boy persona. Right now, they’re painting you as a hopeless romantic. Not good.”
“Drop it, June. I’m not dumping Kate.”
He thought he could hear her teeth grinding. She sighed dramatically. “Then I’m going to recommend you don’t bring her when you meet with Stan Remington this week. He doesn’t give second chances, and you’ve got one shot with him.”
Another call beeped on his phone but he ignored it.
“Listen, I need you to head to the hotel bar right now,” June said. “One of the producers from Late Night wants to meet you. I want you on the show when you’re back in L.A. Just say hi, have a drink with her.”
