by Jaci Burton
"What are you doing in there?"
He came back with a bottled water and unscrewed the top. "Diluting you."
She snorted. "Oh. Good idea." She took the bottle and drank down half the water in it, then wiped her wet lips with her fingers. "The sweet drinks also make me thirsty. I don't know what I was thinking."
"Don't worry about it. It's not like you danced on the tables naked."
"God forbid."
She walked to the back door and slid it open, then stepped out onto the patio. Justin followed.
Amy blew out a breath and fell into one of the cushioned chairs.
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"Better?"
"Yes. The air and the water helped. Thanks."
If he was a gentleman, he'd leave her alone. He didn't want to leave her alone and he sure as hell wasn't a gentleman. He slipped into the other chair.
Their bungalows were near the beach. The night was quiet and there was a breeze that blew strands of her hair. Moonlight shined down on her and she looked like a goddess sitting there just waiting for a man to worship her.
She deserved a little worship.
"I never relax like this," she said, staring out into the darkened sea.
"I know."
She turned to him. "I'm too anal. I can't separate my work life from my private life.
My work has become my entire life. That shouldn't be. I should have a life, shouldn't I?"
"Yes."
She leaned back and planted her hands on the wide arms of the chair. "This is nice.
The water, the sweet smell of the flowers, the music from the club across the way. I might sit here all night."
He stood. "Dance with me."
"What?"
"You said you wanted to relax, to start enjoying life a little. Start now. Dance with me."
She opened her mouth. Justin knew she was going to object, had a litany of excuses why she couldn't...or wouldn't. He held out his hand. "Dance with me, Amy. Let yourself go."
Let yourself go. Those three words were foreign to Amy. She'd never done that, especially in public, with a man. Everything was scripted. She'd always been in control, knew exactly what she was doing.
So when had she lost control tonight? Probably after her first drink. Now Justin was in her room, and there was moonlight and ocean breezes and she felt just a little bit too relaxed to be doing this.
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Yet why not? The music was soft, they were in Hawaii and it wasn't like he'd asked her to have sex. What was the harm in dancing? She took the hand he offered and he drew her against his chest. His other arm came around her back and she resisted the urge to sigh out loud. It felt good. His body was rock solid, he was a lot taller than her and she had to tilt her head back to look at his face.
Whoa. Those eyes. It was one thing to stare into those warm whiskey eyes from across the board room, another thing to be so damn close she could drown in them.
"You okay?" he asked, moving with ease across the spacious patio.
"Yes." No. She wasn't okay. She had goose bumps. Her nipples were hard. Her panties were damp and she felt all too...desirable--female--hot. And she was in the arms of the wrong man, the man who fueled her fantasies, the one man she shouldn't be with. Career disaster.
"Justin..."
"Quit thinking, Amy," he said, palming her lower back and smiling in a way that Amy found devastating. "Nothing's going to happen that you don't want, so stop worrying. We're just dancing."
Maybe he was just dancing. She was self-combusting. His hands roamed her back, burning her with every touch. She might as well be naked. God, she really wanted to be naked, to feel flesh on flesh.
"Tell me what you're thinking," he whispered, his lips brushing her ear.
Her eyes drifted shut and she imagined him pulling down the straps of her dress and pressing his lips against her flesh. Scorching, searing her from the inside out. She wanted it so badly she could almost feel it. His breath was hot against her neck. She was trembling. She couldn't tell him what she was thinking.
"I'm thinking it's late and we have a meeting in the morning."
He stilled, pulled away, his smiling expression telling her he didn't believe for a second that's what she'd been thinking about. His mouth was so close she could breathe him in. One inch closer and she could feel his lips pressed against hers, could live the fantasies she'd only dreamed about for so long.
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Instead, he stepped back and the spell was broken. "You're right. Get some sleep and I'll pick you up on the way to breakfast in the morning."
He turned and walked away, letting himself out. Amy couldn't make her feet move.
Disappointment washed over her. He'd left her. Just like that. No argument, no attempt to seduce her. God knows it wouldn't have taken much effort. She was practically liquid.
She'd have been easy.
Too easy.
Now she was a quivering mess of turned-on woman with no outlet to relieve this anxiety. And no way was she going to do it herself. Not when one extremely hot man occupied the bungalow next to hers.
With a shuddering sigh, she stepped inside, determined to obliterate thoughts of Justin from her mind.
She heard the sounds of Justin moving about in his room, her mind conjuring up visuals of him stripping out of his clothes, climbing into his bed, his cock hard as he took it in his hand and jacked off thinking about what he might have done with her.
Oh, God, Amy, where is your common sense? Hadn't she been spending years steeling herself against the possibility of this happening? Then one trip to Hawaii and a couple fruity cocktails and all her good intentions had gone down the drain?
Sleep. She needed rest and a clear head. By tomorrow, this would all be forgotten and she'd be herself again.
If she could sleep tonight. She got ready for bed, slid between the sheets and stared out her door, listening to the undulating waves crashing against the shore, wishing it were Justin crashing against her body.
Yeah, right. There'd be no sleep for her tonight.
Why the hell hadn't he taken what she would have so obviously given him?
What the hell was wrong with him anyway?
Justin's dick had been rock hard all night. Really not conducive to getting a good night's sleep. He at least hoped Amy had suffered a bit, too. When he left her, she'd been 26
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damn near panting, her cheeks flushed, her nipples like tight pebbles against her flimsy little sundress. Her lips had been parted in silent invitation. If he'd moved in and pressed his mouth to hers, she wouldn't have objected.
It had taken all his willpower to walk away from her. But he wanted her to know that he didn't just consider her a fuck. He wanted her sober and clear headed when he took her to bed. Amy had to make the decision, to know exactly what she was doing.
He hoped it wouldn't take long. In fact, he intended to give her the full court press today. He knocked at her door at nine-thirty a.m. She opened the door, a little tinge to her cheeks as she greeted him.
"Morning," she said.
"How's it going?"
She grimaced. "I have a headache. No more fruity cocktails for me."
He laughed. "Sorry. Should have warned you about those. Stick to straight alcohol from now on."
"I'll keep that in mind. I just need to grab my jacket. Come on in."
He stepped in, leaning against the door and watching as she filled her briefcase. She wore a short skirt today, along with a well-fitting sleeveless silk blouse that she quickly covered up with a jacket. Buttoned it. All three buttons, too.
"Amy, it's too warm for that outfit."
"We're going to Mitch's office today. I'm dressing appropriately."
He rolled his eyes. "You know Mitch is informal."
He lifted his laptop case. "I have everything here. We've been ready for this for months. Just relax. It'll be over soon and then we can kick back and enjoy ourselves."
She gave him a wary look. "Uh-huh. I'll relax when the papers are signed and the merger is complete. That's what we're here for."
That's what she thought.
Magruder, Inc.'s office was located on the twenty-seventh floor of the main hotel.
Perfect, since Mitch also owned the hotel, one of his other business interests. It was a www.samhainpublishing.com 27
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short walk down the cement path and through the main lobby to the elevators. Amy was quiet throughout the walk. Justin wondered if her mind was on business or something else. It had to be something else. Typically before a client meeting she'd chatter nonstop, making sure they had everything lined up, that nothing would go wrong. It was completely uncharacteristic of her to go dead quiet like this.
A smiling receptionist wearing the clothing of aloha greeted them and showed them to the conference room. Justin opened his laptop while Amy busied herself with spreading out the paperwork Mitch would have to sign.
Mitch stepped in, dressed about the same as Justin in casual slacks and a polo shirt.
Justin grinned and shook his hand.
"Mornin," Justin said.
"Hey," Mitch said, then turned to Amy. "Did you two have fun last night?"
Amy straightened, her gaze shooting to Justin. "Fun? What do you mean?"
"I mean did you enjoy the sights, take in one of the clubs, go for a night cruise?
Anything?"
"Oh. No. We left right after you did."
Mitch shook his head. "Amy. I refuse to let you leave this island until you unwind a little."
She smiled. "I am unwound, Mitch. Honest."
"Uh-huh. We'll see about that. Justin and I might have to do this together."
Amy's eyes widened. "Do what together?"
"Relax you, of course."
"Shall we get started?" she asked, though there was a definite waver in her voice.
"Sure." Mitch sat at the head of the table and Amy and Justin took him step by step through the paperwork. A tedious, but necessary process of going through each page.
"Is it warm in here?" Amy asked, unbuttoning her jacket.
"Yeah," Mitch said, pushing back from his chair and moving toward Amy. "There's a glitch in the air conditioning system. I've got people coming over today to fix it. You should lose your jacket."
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Justin didn't bother hiding his smile. This should be good.
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Chapter Four
Amy supposed that fighting Mitch for her jacket wouldn't be a good idea. She would look ridiculous. She allowed him to slip it off her shoulders and drape it over the back of her chair. Damn it, why hadn't she worn a thicker bra today, or a less revealing blouse?
Or fewer clothes? And why was Justin smiling at her like that?
And where the hell was her normal concentration?
And why was it so goddamn hot in here? And what the hell was wrong with her nipples? It wasn't cold, so why were they standing up like beacons?
Jesus. Her brain was mush. She had to get control. Her mind had been wandering all through the signing. She hadn't been able to focus at all, except on the two men flanking her. And her thoughts had not been centered on business. It was a damn good thing she could walk through an acquisition in her sleep, that she knew the paperwork backwards and forwards. Otherwise, she'd be so screwed right now. So far she'd been able to cover adequately. But when Mitch had pulled her jacket off, his fingers brushing her bare shoulders, and Justin gave her that knowing smile as if he knew exactly where her thoughts had been...
Surely she was imagining it all.
Forcing her mind back into work, they continued walking Mitch through the paperwork, though it was Justin who carried the meeting. Despite her intent, Amy couldn't concentrate. Well, that wasn't entirely accurate. She was concentrating. On Justin's mouth. And Mitch's strong, large hands. The easy camaraderie the two men shared.
Would the two of them mind sharing anything else? Like maybe her?
Dear God, Amy, get a grip.
And it was still hot in here!
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It didn't help that Justin kept sliding glances her way, his gaze heated. And then Mitch would look at her, gracing her with a knockout smile that made her toes curl. And they both noticed her breasts straining against her blouse, the way her nipples stood at attention. She might as well strip naked and lay spread-eagled on the conference table so they could take turns fucking her.
Thoughts like that were not helping.
"Are you all right?" Mitch asked.
"Excuse me?"
"You groaned, Amy," Justin said.
Oh, shit. "I did?"
"Yes." Mitch stood. "I know it's warm in here. Let's take a swim."
Amy's eyes widened. "A swim? Mitch, we're not finished here."
"So? We'll finish later. The heat in here is brutal. We need to cool down. It's almost lunchtime anyway. We'll meet at the beach in fifteen minutes, swim for a bit, then we'll have lunch and wrap the paperwork up this afternoon. Or tomorrow, if we're having fun outside."
"But Mitch..."
Apparently Mitch wasn't taking no for an answer, because he stood and walked out of the conference room. Amy slipped her hair behind her ears and looked to Justin for help. He only shrugged and said, "I guess we're going for a dip in the ocean."
Great. Just great.
Thirty minutes later, Amy stood on the patio of Mitch's private beach with Justin.
Justin wore his swim trunks and a tank top. She'd put on her bikini. And her cover up and her sunglasses and her sandals, determined to watch Justin and Mitch do whatever they wanted to in the water while she sat inside the cabana where she would sip tea and do some work.
Mitch approached, wearing his board shorts. Shirtless, he looked tanned, gorgeous and way too incredibly well muscled for a man in his forties. Amy swallowed as he stopped in front of her and frowned.
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"Tell me that's not your laptop," Mitch said, motioning to the thick bag in her hand.
"Okay, it's not my laptop."
Mitch signaled for one of the attendants, who rushed over. "Take Ms. Parker's bag to my office and lock it up in the safe."
"Yes, Mr. Magruder." The attendant waited. Mitch arched a brow. Amy sighed and handed over her bag to the attendant, who rushed down the sidewalk toward the hotel.
"I said we're going to play in the water. That means all of us."
"Really, Mitch, I--"
"You going to take all that off or are we going to toss you in the ocean with your cover up and sandals on?"
Justin pulled off his shirt, showing off a broad expanse of shoulders, biceps and a well defined chest and abdomen. Amy couldn't breathe surrounded by all this...testosterone.
Maybe the water would cool her off. And maybe they'd forget about her once she went in to take a swim. She kicked off her sandals and took off her sunglasses, then drew the cover up over her head. "Fine. I'm ready for a swim."
Mitch and Justin both stared at her. She supposed turnabout was fair. She'd ogled their bodies, too.
"Amy, you are gorgeous," Mitch said. "Why you hide a body like that under business suits is beyond my ability to understand."
Okay, now she was blushing. "Thanks." Honestly, she wasn't used to being looked at. She did hide her body. She was curvy. She had big boobs. She wanted to be appreciated for her mind, not breasts and hips and long legs.
"I'm going for a swim," she said, brushing past them and head
ing toward the water.
Where if she was lucky, they wouldn't follow.
But they did. She felt them behind her. Watching her. Looking at her ass, no doubt.
For some strange reason, she no longer minded that they were looking.
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The sand was hot. She hurried to the water's edge, relieved when the waves lapped at her feet and ankles. It was cold. She needed the cool water to knock some sense into her.
As soon as she was in waist high, she dove in, letting the waves crash over her.
It was heaven. She swam out a few yards, loving the feel of the waves undulating under her. It was incredibly freeing, and oh so relaxing. She finally stopped, treading water and feeling for footing, landing on a sandbar. She stood in the water up to her breasts. Mitch swam up next to her and grinned as he stood up, shaking his head.
"Now that was refreshing," he said with a wide grin.
"Yes it was. I needed that."
She screamed when arms encircled her waist and swept her off her feet. Flailing about, she turned, realizing she was being held in Justin's arms.
"You scared the hell out of me," she said, splashing water in his face.
He shook his head and laughed. "Thought I was a shark, didn't you?"
"Maybe." All too aware of how good it felt to be nestled against his chest, she said,
"You can put me down now."
One raven brow arched. "Oh, I don't think so." Instead, he bent a bit, then lifted her, clear out of the water, and she went sailing in the air, screaming at the top of her lungs.
Instead of landing somewhere in the water, she was caught by another set of strong arms.
This time, it was Mitch.
She glared at both of them. "You guys are not funny."
"We think we are," Mitch said, cradling her close, turning her toward him so her breasts were mashed against his chest. "You're safe with us, Amy. Don't worry."
She wasn't worried at all. Justin swam up and linked hands with Mitch underneath her, dropping her into the middle between them. She lay in their arms in the water, cradled against their chests while the two of them carried on a conversation about sports, seemingly ignoring her. It was a man hammock. She was comfortable, safe, and absolutely petrified. She was a sandwich in the middle of two amazingly desirable men.
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Finally, she relaxed, letting her head rest against Justin's chest as they rocked her back and forth, the sound of their voices a constant comfort. She closed her eyes and let the sun bake her, the waves lapping over her skin.
