by Lori Wilde
His grin, fast and sexy, told her he was more than willing to take advantage of that opening.
“What can I do to help you make up your mind?” he offered, leaning forward and putting his hand over hers as it rested on the glass table. Sparks flared. Hot, intense and almost overpowering. Energy, purely sexual, raced through her system. Her nipples beaded in instant response. If he could turn her on this easily, with just a look and a touch, what could he do to her body if she let him? And what the hell was she waiting for to find out?
Dru tried to regulate her breathing. She could tell he knew damned well the effect he had on her. The question was, what effect did she have on him? And how could she make sure it was an even exchange? Although she sucked at flirting, she wasn’t totally insecure. But neither was she stupid. Alex was a gorgeous, charismatic man, he could have any woman he wanted. Since they had nothing in common, why was he hitting on her so hard?
And could she handle it if she gave in to her body’s demands? If her flirtation skills were dismal, her sexual skills were even worse. The chances of humiliation were high. Was it worth it? She looked at Alex again and sighed. Oh, yeah. She was pretty sure it was.
Pretty sure. But not positive. Needing time to think it through, she took her napkin from her lap and set it on the table.
“You’re leaving?” The disappointment in his words was echoed in his expression. His eyes clearly said she’d let him down. Whether it was because he’d miss her or because she wasn’t playing those games he’d referred to, she wasn’t sure.
“I have some things I need to take care of,” she said honestly—she considered thinking this through to be a very necessary something to take care of. “Since we’ve run into each other twice already in the eighteen hours I’ve been here, I’m sure I’ll see you again.”
When she did, she planned on having all her thinking finished. One way or another, she promised herself as she murmured her goodbye and swung her tote bag over her shoulder, she’d be ready for action.
ALEX WATCHED Drucilla walk away, her tidy plait of silvery hair swishing between her bare shoulder blades. Her refusal to play confused him. He’d learned his lesson young and well. Everyone, men and women, played. Hers must be a new game. One he hadn’t been dealt yet. He’d figure out the rules fast enough, he was sure. “Wipeout?”
Alex quit his contemplation of Drucilla’s hips as she turned the corner back to her bungalow to glance at his friend. Juan was dressed in waiter’s whites, obviously filling in to help out his parents, who owned the hotel.
“I’m still paddling,” Alex quipped with a shrug. He pushed away from the table and helped Juan gather the plates and debris. “You up for hitting some waves this afternoon?”
Juan smirked at the change of subject, but he knew Alex well enough to know his friend didn’t brag about women. Not while pursuing them, not while doing them, not after kissing them goodbye when it was over. Alex’s momma had a saying—wherever he put his privates was meant to stay private.
And Alex always listened to his momma.
“We’re short staffed,” Juan said with a morose sigh as he glanced at the surfers already riding the waves.
Alex made a sympathetic sound. There was a perfect example of why he played his life so carefully. Nothing shackled a guy faster than commitments. Not that Alex blew off his responsibilities or shirked favors. He’d been raised knowing his obligations. Three generations of excellence preceded him, and he knew better than to disappoint his family.
Which was fine. He loved what he did. That was why his career was the only thing he allowed himself to commit to. And he’d arranged his life so that commitment still let him live exactly the way he wanted.
“You up for teaching some surfer wannabes this afternoon?” Juan asked as he wiped the table clean, then moved his tray to the next one. “You’re covering for Manuel, right?”
“From siesta to eight,” Alex confirmed. Juan’s cousin Manuel ran the Surf Shack and had gone to Cozumel for the week to celebrate his abuela’s hundredth birthday. He had a couple kids to take care of the shack, but nobody to give lessons while he was away. Since teaching was right up Alex’s alley, he’d offered to help out. On a limited basis.
“And will you be offering private lessons to the pretty blonde?” Juan teased, as always trying to break through Alex’s typical reticence when it came to women.
“Maybe,” Alex murmured. He caught a glimpse of electric blue and saw Drucilla making her way down the beach. A large beach bag partially concealed her vivid dress, and a huge, floppy hat covered her glorious hair.
“I chatted with her when I was taking her order,” Juan continued, not noticing Alex’s attention shift. “She’s a smart lady. You’ll be able to talk to her about anything. Unlike that surf Betty you were with last time you were here. I think her IQ was smaller than her bra size.”
Juan had a bias. He called any woman who competed with him on the waves a surf Betty. Alex frowned, trying to remember his last visit, eight months ago. Then it hit him. Pretty brunette, good surfer, total beach bunny.
He grimaced. Yeah, she hadn’t been the brightest. But she’d been amazing on a surfboard. On and off the waves, he remembered with an amused smile. But still, a guy liked to be able to actually converse with the woman he was with once in a while.
Few people on Los Cabos knew what Alex did in the ten months out of the year that he wasn’t here surfing. Not that he was ashamed of his career. He was a damn good scientist. He’d excelled early and often, graduating college at the age most people started. A prodigy, he’d learned young to set a goal, work his ass off and make every move count. Hell, he’d earned every accolade right on down the list, all the way to his Wolf Award. As had been expected.
But that was work. And this wasn’t.
“I’m on vacation,” Alex excused. Besides, he never talked about his other life when he was here. He came to Los Cabos to rejuvenate. To maintain balance and stay connected to what mattered.
“She asked about you. Wanted to know what you did around here,” Juan said slyly.
Alex’s gaze flew to his friend’s face. He took in the grin, white against dark skin, and the humor dancing in Juan’s brown eyes.
“What’d you tell her?”
“That she should talk to you personally.”
Alex grinned.
“She said she’d rather not.”
His smile fell away. Then he snickered at his own ego. Hey, a woman like Dru, one who took a little extra effort to catch, was always worth the time and energy.
“Do me a favor,” he said. “If she asks again, continue keeping it on the down low.”
“So you’re gonna lie to her?”
Truly shocked at the suggestion, Alex glared at his friend. “Of course not. I’m simply doing what I always do. Living in the moment. And in this moment, I’m teaching surfing and she’s on vacation.”
Juan smirked as he lifted his tray to his shoulder. Then he nodded toward the path Dru had taken. “You always say you’re living in the moment, amigo. Someday you’re going to meet a woman who makes you dream of tomorrow.”
Alex just chuckled and slapped Juan on the shoulder as he passed by. No point in disillusioning the guy, after all. For all Alex’s Zen approach to life, he was a realist. While he loved the concept of romance as much as the next guy and adored women in all their glory, he knew better than to think that forever and commitment were part of his vocabulary.
But a few days, the surf and the sunset?
He watched Drucilla spread her towel on the oversize beach chair cushion, then straighten. Her back was to him, but he could tell she’d crossed her arms over her belly. With a quick tug she pulled the electric-blue dress off, shaking her head to free her hair again. He watched the silvery-blond braid slide along her back and imagined his fingers combing through that silken length. His mouth pressing warm, soft kisses to those toned shoulders.
His gaze traced her back, bare now except for the strap
of her purple bikini. Mouth dry, he took in the slender curve of her waist, the gentle swell of her hips. And those legs. His heart raced as if he was cresting a wave. What would those legs feel like wrapped around his hips? Those long legs anchoring him tightly as he drove into the wonder of her body?
Alex’s breath whooshed out in a jagged sigh.
Yeah. A few days, the surf and the sunset. He’d be sharing all of them with Drucilla and loving every second of it. Better yet, he’d make damn sure she loved it, too.
3
SIX HOURS LATER, Dru bit her lip, a giddy sort of terror fluttering down her back like a teasing breeze. She was crazy to be doing this. A million rational arguments competed for center stage in her mind, all telling her that she should turn heel in the sand and head right back up the dune to her bungalow.
The practical scientist in her gave a patient sigh. It wasn’t as if this was going to be dangerous. It was a controlled environment with a set time limit. She was entering into the experiment with a solid, well-thought-out hypothesis.
The horny woman in her gave a disdainful eye roll. Enough with the bullshit excuses already. She was solidly in lust with Alex, and he was exactly what Nikki had suggested. A fling. The answer to all her sexual frustrations. The kind of guy who could go all night, making her gasp and writhe and scream.
She really, really wanted to gasp and writhe and scream.
After all, this was vacation. Wild sexual romps were practically required, right? It didn’t matter that she didn’t know much about him. Or that they wouldn’t have anything to talk about. Nerdy her and a hunky surfer? No common ground at all. She was pretty sure she had other uses for his mouth, though. And she’d be back at work, with plenty of people to talk to soon enough.
She should just go for it, she thought as her stomach tumbled over itself and nerves made her light-headed.
“C’mon, you know you want to do it,” Alex teased, the grin curving his gorgeous sun-kissed face telling her he knew she was arguing with herself over the surfing lesson. A lesson she’d been second-guessing for the last hour, ever since she’d met him at the Surf Shack to get started.
Hopefully he didn’t know the details of her internal argument, though. Or that she’d be taking him up on a lot more than just the white-and-blue-striped board he was offering. Although, from his wicked grin, he very well might know exactly what she’d been thinking.
He stood there in the late-afternoon light, two surfboards stuck in the sand, one on either side of him. This section of beach was mostly deserted, the nearest people tiny images at the far end of the hotel. The sun was hot, the breeze a bare wisp of air and Alex was gorgeous.
His muscles glinted in the sunshine, the light scent of sunscreen mixing with the salt of the ocean. His simple blue trunks rode low on his hips. Her gaze trailed over the dusting of hair on his chest, gliding down his belly like an arrow pointing the way to ecstasy.
She’d have to be an idiot to walk away.
“I do want to do it,” she said in a breathless rush, committing to a lot more than the lesson.
As if he realized that, the grin slid off Alex’s face. His dark eyes narrowed, taking on a smoldering look of concentration. The heat of that gaze washed over her, more intense than the rays of the afternoon sun. Her breath quickened. She sucked in her bottom lip, nibbling on the soft flesh and wondering if they could toss aside the pretense of surfing and just go back to her bungalow.
“C’mon,” he invited instead of following it up, though. Maybe the lurking terror in her gaze made him hesitate. “It’s time. We’ve already waxed the boards and gone over the basics. The next step is to hit the water.”
Nerves, this time having nothing to do with the sexual tension filling the air, jumped in Dru’s stomach. She eyed the seven-foot-long surfboard. Then she glanced at the vivid blue water of the Sea of Cortez.
“Maybe we should go over the safety rules again,” she said faintly.
Alex smiled and rubbed a reassuring hand up and down her bare arm. His touch melted her fear with an onslaught of lust. Dru’s breath hitched. A look of wicked pleasure crossed Alex’s face.
He trailed his hand up and down her arm again, but this time the move was slower. Softer. More tempting. Dru’s heart skipped a beat, then tumbled so fast she could feel it pounding against the slick fabric of her sedate one-piece swimsuit.
His fingers traced down again, leaving a heated path in their wake. He moved closer. Just one step. That’s all it took to fill her senses with him. His body’s warmth. His scent. His sexual energy.
The whole world narrowed as that energy engulfed her. The sound of the surf, the heat of the sun, they faded. She stared up at his face, the olive skin and high cheekbones. His full lower lip, perfect for nibbling.
Without realizing it, her tongue slipped out to touch her upper lip. The desire in his midnight eyes intensified. But he didn’t move. Dru wasn’t sure if he was holding back to torture her or if he was too much of a gentleman to hit on a student.
So any moves were up to her. Her. The woman whose last successful hit on a guy had involved a lame joke about the periodic table. Dru’s heart sank to join the stressed-out butterflies bouncing around in her belly.
Taking the chickenshit route, she leaned backward instead of forward. Her body screamed in fury at the denial of pleasure. As always, though, her mind was stronger. And her mind was warning her that if she didn’t learn to surf, she’d fall all over Alex, do wildly unspeakable things to his body, roll off with a gasp and realize she wouldn’t have a damn thing to say to him other than thank-you.
And while she had great hopes of plenty of orgasms to thank him for, the practical scientist in her insisted that they find some common ground to discuss between sexual bouts.
At least, that was her pathetic excuse.
“I guess I know the rules well enough,” she murmured.
He gave her a brief, inscrutable look, then gestured to the sea.
“You’ll catch on quickly once we get started.” He arched his brow, making it obvious he was talking about more than just surfing. “This part of the beach gets the smaller waves, it’s pretty mellow. Perfect for getting the feel of the board.”
A long, rocky spit of land separated this bit of water from the vastness of the rest of the sea. Here, the water was much calmer, the waves babies compared to the huge breakers crashing off to the left of the rocks.
She wasn’t reassured. She was a hardly an athlete. Sure, she could swim. But she was more at home in a pool than the sea. The alternative was mind-blowing, meaningless sex. The sex sounded so much better than surfing, but a girl had to have some standards.
“Okay, let’s do it,” she said. Then she winced.
Alex just laughed. A loud, booming sound that melded perfectly with the pounding surf.
Relieved that he didn’t seem to hold her hesitation against her, Dru picked up the surfboard he indicated. It was too wide to fit under her arm the way he carried his, so she followed his instructions and—feeling more clumsy than sexy—carried it balanced on her head.
“Wouldn’t this be better earlier in the day?” she asked, struggling to balance the board while her feet sank into the shifting sands as she followed him down to the shore.
“Nah, this is the perfect time. Everyone is still at siesta, so it’s quiet. Besides, I have the feeling you’ll be a quick study. We’ll get through the basics and I’ll bet you’re on the board by this evening. There’s nothing like surfing at sunset.”
“Like you were last night?” She gave him a curious glance, wondering at a life filled with such trouble-free pleasures. How did he stand the simplicity of it? Was that as much a part of his appeal as his gorgeous face and broad shoulders? That easygoing attitude so at odds with her own life. “Do you surf every sunset?”
“As many as I can,” he admitted, glancing out at the Sea of Cortez with a look of pleasure on his face. Much as she’d stare at the stars in the night sky or a sexy man’s naked b
ody. Joyous, contented appreciation.
Dru wanted to feel that. That simple confidence evidenced in Alex’s look. As if he saw the challenges and not only accepted them but longed to meet them head-on. But most of all, that he knew perfectly well he was up to whatever came his way.
For a woman who had to give herself pep talks on a daily basis, that look was like a drug she craved.
Then he shifted his attention, studying her. The warm appreciation remained in his eyes, along with a healthy dose of lusty interest. Dru had never had anyone look at her like that. As if the idea of being with her made him happy, horny and amused all at the same time.
And that was even more tempting than the confidence he showed facing the surf’s wild challenge.
Suddenly determined to somehow capture both Alex’s confidence and his admiration, she drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin for the last three steps through the sand.
When they reached the water’s edge, he indicated that she should attach the leg leash to her left foot. Then she lifted the board again and followed him into the sea.
Dru gasped at the chill of the water compared to the warmth of the beach. Alongside Alex, she waded out until the water reached her hips, then, trying to mimic his easy movement, pulled herself onto the surfboard.
“Let’s paddle out past the first break,” he told her, his voice just under a shout to be heard over the crashing of the waves. “Remember how I told you to cup your hands? Like you’re swimming.”
Swimming was a lot easier, Dru decided after a couple of minutes. Belly flat on the board, she struggled against the waves pushing her one way while the undertow tugged her another. She eyed the round, rock-hard muscles of Alex’s biceps as he paddled, and realized that he probably didn’t have to use weights for his fantastic physique.
Her arms burning, Dru kept her eyes on him, squinting against the spray of salt water peppering her face. Like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, he was her reward for the suffering her body was now experiencing. Maybe she should have spent more time talking to him before going along with this mad surfing idea. They had to have some area of common interest.
