Temptation's Kiss

by Sandra Brown

  “Josh!”

  “Hmm?”

  “You're … you're putting sunscreen in a place that will see no sun.”

  “Oh,” he said, his fingers gently kneading her firm flesh. “Well, you can't be too careful.”

  That was something she would do well to remember, she reminded herself.

  “Legs?” he asked softly.

  “Uh, yes, I guess you'd better.”

  Squeezing the tube, he drew long white worms of suntan lotion down the back of her legs. Both hands closed around her calves to rub in the lotion. A warm, secure sensation wrapped around her heart. But when he knelt between her ankles and leaned forward to rub the cream into her thighs, the erratic drumbeat of her heart began again. Its pounding echoed off the hard-packed sand beneath her, making her acknowledge and absorb her own agitation.

  His fingers climbed upward, his thumbs pressing into the soft skin between her thighs. Like heat-seeking devices, they moved ever closer to the very center of her which throbbed achingly. Her skin emanated heat. Her nipples knotted with tingling desire. When he slowly withdrew his hand, she was left with an excruciating longing that begged to be assuaged.

  “All done.” The unsteadiness of his voice matched her own uneven breathing.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Are you sure you'll be all right? We're a distance from the main building. Why don't you go to the pool? There'll be people around there.”

  “I'm a big girl,” she said, propping herself up on her elbows before she realized how the position emphasized her breasts in the small bikini top.

  “I can see that,” Josh murmured, his eyes feasting on the provocative display. He cleared his throat and looked abruptly away. “I'll be back as soon as I can. Save me a place on the blanket. And for my peace of mind, if you should go to the pool, please change swimsuits first.”

  “Tell Terry hello for me, and have a good time.” She smiled brilliantly, but she was swamped with disappointment as she watched him stalk across the sand and over the lawn toward their quadraplex to pick up his golf bag.

  Dismayed by her momentary sense of loneliness, she stared blindly out to sea. Then the sapping heat of the sun, the sound of the surf, and the gently caressing breeze lulled her to sleep.

  “Am I disturbing you?”

  Megan pried her eyelids apart and allowed a slice of bright sunlight to penetrate. “What?” she asked, rolling over and sitting up, groggy and disoriented.

  “Were you asleep? I'm sorry,” the voice said.

  As her eyes became accustomed to the glare of sunlight, the blurred image of Laura Wray came into focus. “Oh, hi, Laura,” Megan said self-consciously. She adjusted the straps of her bikini to provide herself with the maximum coverage. “I guess I dozed off, but I'm glad you awakened me.” She glanced at her shoulders and saw the unmistakable pink that could herald a sunburn. “If I'm exposed too long, I burn.”

  “That's why I'm swathed in gauze like a mummy,” Laura replied, smiling from behind fashionably large sunglasses and the hood of a turquoise, ankle-length, long-sleeved beach coat. “Do you mind if I sit down?”

  “Of course not,” Megan exclaimed, embarrassed by her lack of manners. She moved aside the articles littering the blanket, and Laura lowered herself gracefully down on it. “Would you like something to drink?” Megan offered, pulling the styrofoam cooler toward her. Terry had been foresighted to provided each room with one. “A cola?”

  “Yes. I walked quite a distance down here.”

  After handing Laura one of the canned drinks and opening one for herself, Megan gazed down the stretch of beach. No one else was in sight. “Did you come looking for me?”

  Laura sipped the drink and shook her head. “No. I was merely strolling along the beach. When I saw you by yourself, I thought this was a good time for us to get to know each other better. I admire you for the position you hold. Ever since we arrived, I've heard people talking about the outstanding job you're doing at WONE.”

  “Thank you, but I feel humbled by your saying that. I admire your writing immensely. It must be fabulous to travel all over the world and get paid for doing it.”

  Laura shrugged and took another drink. “Yes, it is,” she said thoughtfully. “Especially if you don't have anything else to do—husband, children, that sort of thing. You're here with Josh.” She glanced up at the bungalow tucked among the pines.

  Taken out of context, the two thoughts could seem unrelated, but, knowing Laura's history with Josh, Megan knew they were not. Why did she suddenly feel like the fallen woman confronting the saint? She had an impulse to cover herself, as though her near nakedness were obscene.

  “N-not really with him. I'm overseeing Seascape's television advertising. Josh is their advertising agent.” Megan found Laura's steady stare disconcerting. For good measure she added, “I've known Josh for years.”

  “Yes, I know,” Laura replied in a tone that indicated she didn't believe for one minute that their joint interest in Seascape and the length of their acquaintance were the only reasons behind their being together. “Your late husband worked for him. Josh often spoke of you when we—”

  She broke off in mid-sentence, and Megan finished it for her. “When you were engaged to him?”

  Laura became visibly upset. “How did you know about that? Did Josh tell you?”

  Megan understood her alarm. Like any woman, she wouldn't want her past failures exposed to what she considered to be the competition. “No, no,” Megan said quickly. “Gayla Bishop mentioned it. I didn't know about it until last night.”

  Laura looked relieved, but she laughed mirthlessly. “Few people did. We broke off before it was announced. Josh”—she paused to lick her lips, and Megan panicked, afraid that she was about to cry— “Josh had a change of heart.”

  “That was beastly of him,” Megan said with more hostility than she had intended.

  Laura's reaction surprised her. “Oh, no. No, it wasn't. I appreciated his honesty. If he hadn't been forthright with me, we would have married, become increasingly unhappy, and then divorced with far more folderol than a broken engagement caused.”

  “How can you defend him? What he did to you only points up what an arrogant, selfish man he is.”

  Laura Wray studied her for a long moment, and Megan realized she had been too disapproving. “Arrogant?” Laura said musingly. “Yes, I suppose he is. But he's also kind. It caused him considerable anguish to come to me and tell me he wanted to break his commitment. He took all the blame on himself.”

  She smiled sadly. “As a matter of fact, by the end of the scene I was comforting him. And selfish? Yes, he is, but not only for himself. He's selfish for everyone he cares about. He had it very tough as a kid. What he has now he got through hard work. He'll never forget what it was like to be without. Still, he's generous to a fault—with material things and with himself.”

  Megan couldn't believe they were talking about the same man. Josh had always gone after what he wanted and damned the people who got in his way. She couldn't remember when he'd ever been denied anything. Everything he'd ever wanted…

  No. There was one thing he'd wanted and hadn't obtained—her.

  But surely Laura Wray's estimation was colored by her feelings for him. “You're still in love with him, aren't you?” Megan hadn't intended to ask the question; it had just popped out To Megan's relief, Laura didn't seem to take offense.

  “Yes,” she said quietly as she stared at the horizon.

  Megan traced a pattern in the condensation on her cold drink can. “Maybe there's hope that the two of you will get back together.” The thought brought a crushing pain to her chest that she didn't want to analyze. Visions of Josh holding, touching, kissing Laura Wray—or any woman—with the same passion as he did her filled her with hatred. Why?

  Laura shook her head and turned back to Megan. Her smile was gentle, reconciled. “No. Never. I have to be content to be his good friend.” She stood up and dusted sand off
the blanket where she'd been sitting. “I knew all along that Josh was in love with someone else. A married woman. In the end he admitted it to me. I think he'll always be in love with her.”

  Megan's heart plummeted, and her tongue became glued to the roof of her mouth. When Laura asked, “Will you be at the cookout tonight?” she could only nod “I'll see you then.” Laura started walking back in the direction of the central compound, a tall, graceful, lonely figure.

  Megan sat motionless, staring at the rolling waves. They brought to shore so much promise, rushing forward so eagerly, the magnificent strength of the ocean behind them. But they touched land only briefly, sparkling with lacy foam for only an infinitesimal moment, then receding, leaving nothing but debris in their wake. Was that the pattern of all life forms, a ceaseless, futile struggle for meaning?

  What was she doing here? Why was she bent on carrying out a childish scheme for revenge? When it came right down to it, what was she seeking to accomplish? Who would get hurt the most? She had the unpleasant intuition that it would be she.

  She jumped, startled, when a low, rumbling voice asked directly in her ear. “Can anyone join this party?”

  Flattening a hand against her chest to still her wildly beating heart, she whipped her head around and bumped noses with Josh. “Ouch,” he said before kissing her loudly. Instead of golf clothes, he was wearing a pair of maroon swim trunks. “Whatcha doin’?”

  “Enjoying the peace and quiet.”

  He dropped down beside her and hooked his arm around her neck, tilting her head back with his other fist. “If that's a veiled hint that I should leave you alone, you're out of luck. I ran their tails all over that golf course to get back to you as quickly as possible.” His lips formed an unbreakable adhesion with hers. He milked her mouth with gentle suction, as though to draw all her sweetness into himself.

  “You didn't play well?” she asked with what little breath he left her.

  “Hell, I won! I always play to win, or it's not worth the game.”

  His words alarmed her, terrified her, but she had no chance to evaluate them as he drew her into another soul-splintering kiss. Gradually he lowered them to the blanket, until they were reclining, their arms and legs entwined.

  “How's your back?” he whispered against her breast.

  “A little pink, but it doesn't sting.” He certainly had no problem with sunburn. His body was toasted a dark bronze all over. His chest hair grew in a whorling pattern that intrigued her. She traced it tentatively with her fingers. The crinkly mat spread wide at the top of his chest and tapered down his torso to a darker, smoother line that disappeared into his trunks. His navel nested in that line, but when her exploring fingers reached it, she couldn't bring herself to touch him.

  “It doesn't bite,” he murmured. Taking her hand under his, he guided it over the deep dimple on his abdomen. “You have an open invitation to touch me at any time, in any way, any place you want. I give you carte blanche of my body.”

  The words made her dizzy with erotic thoughts, and she buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. Her curious fingers threaded through his dark satiny hair and investigated the small indentation until his breath caught.

  “Lie down,” he instructed.

  She complied. Rampant desire had made her weak. Her eyes closed against it. She let her body relax. She preferred not to think of it as surrender.

  Taking up the bottle of suntan lotion, Josh said, “I'd never forgive myself if I neglected to protect your front as well as your back.” The deep, rolling sound of his voice beckoned her into a deeper lassitude.

  His hands were those of a gifted sculptor as they glided over her stomach and abdomen, applying a generous amount of lotion. Fingers that were strong and evocative massaged along the line of her bikini panties. She was disappointed when he didn't take the expedition farther—until she felt the drawstring of her top give way to his quick tug.

  Her eyes flew wide as he moved aside the wisp of fabric and bared her to the sky. He was leaning close, gazing down into her eyes, “Shhh,” he said soothingly. Tenderly his mouth kissed hers before he rose. She closed her eyes again, in time to hear a blasphemous whisper that was somehow reverent.

  “My God, Megan, you're beautiful. I've envisioned you a thousand times, but you … you're … exquisitely made.”

  She felt the two pools of lotion he squeezed on the tops of her breasts. Working first one side, then the other, he smoothed the emulsion over her chest with languid motions. Occasionally he whispered a compliment, but his hands said more than words. He worshiped her through touch. His fingers conveyed the message that she was a masterpiece worthy of his admiration.

  When all of her had been covered, except what she yearned most for him to touch, he withdrew his hands. Her eyes pleaded with him when she opened them. She needn't have worried. He was pouring lotion into his palms and rubbing them together. When they were thoroughly creamed, he lay them on her breasts. She gave a long, low moan, and her knees came up involuntarily.

  His hands rotated slowly over her breasts. Her nipples, rubbing against his palms, flowered with desire. He raked his lubricated thumbs over them. “Josh,” she sobbed.

  “So delicate. So pretty.”

  Gently he gathered her lush breasts in his palms and molded her upward into cones cupped in his hands. Her fists knotted at her sides and, senselessly, she rocked her head back and forth. Low noises vibrated in her throat, and she heard herself repeating his name in a loving litany.

  When he lowered his head and took one dusky nipple in his mouth, her back arched off the blanket and her hands tore at his hair. “Yes, yes,” she urged.

  But he refused to hurry. His lips fanned back and forth across the distended peak until she thought her veins would burst. His tongue dipped repeatedly to bathe the tender, swollen crest with the nectar of his mouth, until it shone wetly.

  Her hips writhed with the fundamental beat of a pagan rite. The tempo increased with each squeezing movement of Josh's mouth on her breast, with each flicking lash of his tongue. When she thought she could bear no more, he covered the center of throbbing desire between her legs with his palm, pressed deeply and rhythmically, and drew her nipple into the hot, liquid cavern of his mouth.

  Her world exploded with a shower of light.

  “Why did you do that?”

  She lay curled against him, their damp bodies glistening. His hand combed lazily through her hair as her head was pillowed on his chest. “Because you've never been aware of, or at least sure of, yourself as a sexual creature. One's sexuality is nothing to be ashamed of, Megan. Misusing it, yes. But we were designed to seek and find sensual pleasure with each other.”

  She nuzzled her face against him shyly, and he chuckled softly. “One lesson at a time is enough,” he said, retying her top. “Come on. I'd better get you inside before you're burned to a crisp.”

  He helped her gather her belongings; and they walked back to the bungalow arm in arm. At her terrace door he turned her toward him. “I'll give you an hour. Unless you'd like me to come in and wash your back when you shower.”

  She shook her head. After what she'd just experienced, she needed time to think, time to sort things out. What Laura Wray had told her about Josh's being in love with a married woman hadn't begun to make sense to her before he'd come back and tripled her confusion about her feelings for him. Everything was in a muddle.

  Things were getting out of hand, and she didn't know how to regain control. She only knew that right now she couldn't stand naked beneath a shower's spray with Josh and not beg him to touch her and kiss her the way he had on the beach. Time, space, distance—all were essential for her at this point.

  “I'll see you in an hour. I assume the cookout is casual.”

  He nodded, but she could tell his mind wasn't on either the upcoming party or what he would wear. He cupped her face between his palms. “I've tasted you now, Megan, and it only whetted my appetite. I want all of you.”

&nb
sp; Before she could utter a sound, he had gone into his own suite.

  The cookout, held on one of the wide lawns, was casual, but in true Seascape fashion it was carried off with élan. Vast charcoal pits contained untold quantities of sizzling barbecued ribs and beef. Mounds of ice kept pink boiled shrimp ready to be peeled and dunked into spicy sauce. On long tables covered with red-and-white-checked tablecloths were platters of fried chicken, corn on the cob, steaming okra gumbo and seasoned rice, baked yams, juicy watermelon, relishes to appeal to every taste bud, biscuits, and corn bread. As if that weren't enough, hot peach cobbler and pecan pie were available to satisfy a sweet tooth.

  After the meal, Josh suggested that they take a walk in Harbor Town. Megan agreed readily, and they set off in a car Josh borrowed from the resort.

  Complete with its own lighthouse, Harbor Town was a commercially developed complex located on the harbor of Calibogue Sound. The man-made harbor had been designed as an imperfect circle, to preserve one of the island's massive oak trees. Acting as a sort of a mascot of the island, the tree was strung with tiny white lights. Entertainers performed nightly on a makeshift stage beneath its branches.

  After window shopping along a row of exclusive boutiques, Josh and Megan paused to watch the show. A professional singer strummed his guitar in an attempt to keep time with two young boys he'd called up on stage. They were giggling and getting in about every third word of the ridiculous song, but the audience loved it. Adults and children alike shouted with laughter over the impromptu performance coaxed out of the two boys by the young singer.

  “That one on the left is a real corker,” Josh said. “You can tell by the devilish glint in his eyes.” In unguarded moments like this one, he was a different man from the busy executive who was reputed to pull no punches in a business deal. His teeth shone in the dim light. His hair, stirred by the breeze when they had taken their walk along the marina, lay about his head in dark tousled strands that tempted Megan to touch them. The thought that came quietly to her rocked the very foundations of her soul, and she pushed it quickly aside.