“That’s right.” She closed her eyes, not wishing to talk. She just wanted to enjoy the sun kissing her body. It was highly sensual, and her body hadn’t had much to arouse it in a great many years. At least, not since Ryan had showed up.
“Your mother is here, your job," he went on. "You’ve got it good.”
“Uh-huh.” Why wouldn’t he go back to sleep and let her enjoy her nice, dreamy state? She wouldn't mind a nap herself, but she'd better guard against sunburn.
She squeezed lotion onto her hand and started to smooth it on. She rubbed it over her aching calf muscles and worked the lotion across her thighs. She wasn’t looking at Ryan, but she could feel him watching her. He’d shifted onto his side, and his gaze seemed as intense as the sun.
She dumped more lotion into her palm and applied it to her arms and shoulders. Fully aware that he was still staring at her, she smoothed her lotion-coated hands over her chest and then down across her flat stomach, thankful that she could still wear a two piece and not worry about flab. She chanced a glance at Ryan, and saw that his gaze was fixed on her hands, and she wished it was his hands touching her, stroking her. Her blood heated as the image filled her mind. Suddenly her entire body was alive, very much alive, and stinging with nerve endings. She had gone from sensual to sizzling.
“Leila." His voice was deep, suggestive. "You need some help with that?”
“What?” Embarrassed at the direction of her thoughts, not to mention her body's arousal, she briskly wiped her hands on her towel. “Oh, no thanks. I’m done.”
His smile was sexy, seductive, and got her pulse racing like she’d run a mile. “You sure?”
Gulp. “Uh, yeah. Actually, I’m thinking of going into the water to cool down.”
He jumped up. “Come on.” He pulled her by the hand, and once she was on her feet he raced off with her.
The water was a shock. Cold on her smoldering body. But Ryan wouldn't let her turn around. He put an arm around her waist, driving her forward.
With nowhere to go, she plunged onward and was knocked over by a strong wave. Laughing, she wiped her hair out of her eyes as she pushed herself up. She splashed water at him. “Come on, chicken.”
He dived in and came up next to her. He put his arms around her and lifted her up out of the water as if he were about to toss her. Instead, he lowered her again, her body sliding down along his.
Her breath caught in her throat. His chest was pressed to hers, and his face was inches away. Their eyes met and she saw something flicker in his, desire, heat, excitement, all the feelings that mirrored her own.
His mouth looked so kissable, and she wanted to taste his lips more than she’d wanted anything for a very long time.
“Leila?" His voice had taken on that husky tone again. "Are you needing more of those kisses?”
“I think so.”
He smiled. “Later. Tonight.” Then he dived into the next wave and swam back to shore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
Leila stayed in the cool water after Ryan returned to shore, floating on her back, her face lifted to the sun. When was the last time she’d simply floated without a care in the world?
It was so peaceful not to hear anything, only to feel. Her body lifted and dropped with the waves, and she let herself drift, thinking of the joy Ryan had brought into their lives. The flight here, the limo ride, the glorious cottage on the beach were all unexpected gifts, but his gift of life to her daughter was reason enough for the feelings she had for him. He deserved to be loved for all that he was. She wasn’t going to make excuses and pretend that her feelings weren’t real, because they were, and he was worthy of more than gratitude. He was worthy of love.
This weekend she would allow herself to care for Ryan with everything she carried in her heart. After all, it had been such a long, long time since she’d felt deeply for anyone other than her daughter, and if her emotions were all charged up, so be it.
Ryan had promised her more kisses tonight, and she was going to enjoy them—without guilt. She had wanted to kiss him all day, and when he’d held her body against his in the water, it had been electrifying. And then he'd let her go and swum away. The man either had more control than she did or he wasn’t nearly as aroused.
Well, she had all night to get him worked up, and the fun would be in the trying.
***
Leila left Ryan and Callie at the beach and took a nice long shower at the cottage, wanting to be dressed when they returned. She hadn't known what to pack and had had little time to think about it, but she had thrown in a dress. Tonight she was in the mood to wear it.
The dress was yellow, with spaghetti straps, and made with a lycra-cotton material that formed to her figure. She painted her lips with a coral shade of lipstick, added a light blush to her cheeks, and a squirt of perfume. The last time she got her hair cut, her stylist had added a few reddish highlights. Her hair was now richer in color, and lay shiny and soft on her bare shoulders.
Satisfied, she turned away from the mirror. She was as good as she got.
Ryan and Callie came in a few minutes later, and from the look on Ryan’s face, her good was good enough indeed.
She suggested that Callie take a shower. Her daughter disappeared into the bedroom, and less than a minute later they heard the sound of water running.
“She’s a fast one,” Leila said to Ryan. “She hates to get up in the morning, so she has her routine fine-tuned.”
“Like her mother?” he asked. “You look terrific."
“Thanks. I might be overdressed, but I thought, why not? When do I ever get a chance anymore?”
“You don’t date?”
“No. I don’t have the time or the inclination.”
“Never?” When she shook her head, he asked gently, “You haven't had anyone in your life since Nick passed away? That’s five whole years.”
“I did go out a few times, but my heart wasn’t in it. I figured I would wait until I was good and ready, and then Callie got sick and everything changed.”
“I see.” He took a step toward her, close enough that he could touch her, but he didn’t. “You can’t put your life on hold forever.”
“Sure I can,” she answered with a smile. “Anyway, the point is moot. If this transplant works, Callie will be healthy again and then I’ll have no more excuses.”
“Is that what it is? An excuse?” He frowned. “Are you still in love with Nick?”
“I don’t know what that means,” she answered as honestly as she could. “I'll always love Nick, but he’s gone, and the life I had with him seems like it happened to someone else. I feel as though I’m a different person now.”
“I didn’t know you before, but I like the new you.”
Their eyes met, and Leila felt as if she could hardly breathe. The urge to kiss him made her almost dizzy with need, and she swayed in his direction.
“Mom?” Callie called. “What should I wear?”
Leila closed her eyes. She was half grateful for the interruption, but also deeply, sorely disappointed. She’d have to wait a little longer to taste his lips on hers.
She turned and walked into the bedroom she shared with her daughter. Rummaging through Callie's bag, she found a skirt and top. “Here. Wear this. We both should be dressed tonight. This is a very special weekend, so let’s live it up."
Callie came out of the bedroom in a mini-skirt with a crisp white T-shirt, her hair freshly washed. If her face hadn’t been so pale and drawn, she would have looked as beautiful as any girl her age. Ryan whistled when he saw her, which brought a delighted grin to her face.
They dined at Bostwick’s on the harbor, which had a casual nautical décor and an outstanding view. Their table overlooked the marina and the Three Mile Harbor, and they were seated in time to capture the last of the sunset.
They feasted on shrimp cocktails, lobsters, and Bostwick's famous brownies for dessert. But as Ryan and Leila lingered over their after-dinner coffee, it was obvious
Callie was fading fast.
She fell asleep in the car on the ride back to their hotel, and Ryan had to carry her in. He laid her on the bed, kissed her forehead, and left the room so Leila could attend to her. She undressed her gently so as not to wake her, and slid her frail body under the covers. Callie had taken her medication at dinner, so she was all set until morning.
After Callie was settled, Leila returned to the living room. She stood in the middle of the room, her arms wrapped around her waist, and stared at Ryan.
What now? she wondered nervously. Did they just fall on each other and start kissing wildly? And would they stop with just kisses this time? Did she want to?
"You look as jumpy as a kangaroo," he said. "How about some wine? I brought a bottle with me."
"Yes," she agreed readily. "I'd like that."
"Good. Come on. Let's sit outside."
She got a wrap she'd brought in case of chilly weather, while he took care of the wine. They met on the deck, and he handed her a glass of merlot. The moon had risen, casting silver over the black ocean, and the soft, endless sound of the surf soothed Leila's nerves. They sat together in silence, lost in their own thoughts.
"Are you worried?" she asked after a few minutes.
"About the surgery?" He shook his head. "Not really. But, Leila, if for some reason this doesn’t work, I want you to know that I’ll do anything to help. You aren’t alone in this anymore.”
She turned to him. “Ryan, that has to be one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.”
“I mean it. I’m in this with you." He touched her hand, and she resisted the urge to grab hold and not let go. "I'm sorry I was such an arrogant prick when we first met and that I didn’t volunteer sooner."
"You came soon enough. She's no worse now than she was a few weeks ago, and she could probably stay like this for some time, but I'm glad we don't have to take that chance." Her eyes roamed over his face, and she knew she could never get tired of looking at it. "I can't thank you enough."
He squeezed her hand. "Don't make me out to be too big a hero. Not yet. Let's wait and make sure she's not going to reject me too."
Leila shook her head. "I can't imagine anyone rejecting you. You’re much too cute.”
He leaned toward her, and unaccountably she found herself edging away. Not yet! she thought. I’m not ready!
He frowned. "You're not having second thoughts about the plans we made for tonight, are you?"
"No." Her heart began pounding. She was getting in way over her head. “But knowing how very much I want it, well, it scares me."
"It doesn't need to, Leila." He stroked his thumb across her cheek. "There's nothing wrong with needing affection and human touch. It's perfectly natural. If you didn’t need it, then I'd think you should worry."
"Is everything always so easy for you?"
"What do you mean?"
"Do you always have an easy explanation for something that you feel like doing, whether it's right or wrong?"
His eyes clouded over as he pulled back, and she regretted her words. "I didn't mean that the way it came out." She grabbed his hand. "I really didn't. I'm sorry."
"Are you sure about that?" His voice was cool, and she wanted to smack herself for hurting him.
"Yes. It's me that I'm not sure about. Why, after all this time, do I want to be with a man—totally, completely with a man, if you get my drift—and why does that man have to be you?"
He grinned, and she knew all was forgiven. "I can't think of a better fellow." His accent charmed her once more, but she didn't want to be charmed, or romanced right now. She wanted to get to know this man who was capturing her heart.
“Maybe I should stop kissing you,” she said, “since I want it so much. Instead, why don’t we talk?”
She released his hand and looked away, agitated by the fact that he had no problem whatsoever with some low-level physical intimacy with her, while she was making way too big a deal out of it. Only kisses, he'd promised. He didn't want to take her to bed. So why was she jumping out of her skin, wanting to feel every inch of him all over her?
"Look," he said, "we can talk if you like. Or we don't even have to do anything but sit here and look at the stars."
“Actually, I do have a few questions for you. You don’t have to answer them if you don’t want to, but I’d like to know you better.”
“I haven’t got a problem with that.” He sipped his wine and set the glass beside him. “Shoot.”
“About you being a pilot? How and when did you have time to get your license?”
He grinned. “Well, I got the bug to fly when I was in prison. Being cooped up for three years, all I could think about was taking to the skies. Once I arrived in Australia, I took flying lessons and got my private pilot’s license, but ended it there. I didn’t enjoy it as much as I thought I would. The cockpit was too small and confining, so I decided to give boating a try.”
“Makes sense.” She hesitated. Asking about flying was one thing. Asking about his time in prison was something else again. “Ryan, you can tell me to mind my own business if you like, but I’m more than curious. I want to know what it was like for you--in prison with all those criminals, when you were an innocent man.”
He stiffened, and she saw that muscle in his cheek twitch again. “It was hell, what can I say?”
Why had she brought it up? She didn’t really need to know what happened there, it made no difference. She knew the kind of man he was now.
“I’m sorry. It doesn’t matter. The good news is they let you out. Your record is clean and your reputation restored.”
“When you’ve been to prison, your reputation is always in question.” He shrugged. “But the money helped.” He took a slug of his wine.
“Ryan, I think you should kiss me now.”
He kept looking out at the ocean. “You said you wanted to get to know me better. So ask away.”
She bit her lip. “I’ve changed my mind. I already know everything I need to know.” She turned to him, and after a moment, he looked at her. Her confusion and longing must have shown in her eyes, because he sucked in his breath as if in sudden pain.
"Leila. You really shouldn't look at me like that."
"Like what?"
"You're sending me mixed messages, and I know you’re emotional right now. I don’t want to take advantage of you."
“You’re not. I want the same things you want.”
They sat in silence, and the tension built between them. The stars in the sky must have felt it too, for they seemed to grow brighter. Leila saw them twinkling at her, encouraging her to take a chance.
She ran her tongue over her lips and whispered, "Blame it on the moonlight.” She locked eyes with him. “It makes me do crazy things."
He put his hand on the back of her neck and drew her face to his. “I want to kiss you too.” And then his mouth claimed hers.
His lips were soft, soft and warm and dreamy.
She wasn’t sure but she thought she purred. Then he pulled her closer and deepened the kiss. Her mouth opened, and she tasted the sweet smell of his breath mixed with the wine. He kissed her for a long time, and as her breathing quickened he plundered her mouth with his tongue while she clung to him. She could tell by his raspy breathing that he wanted much more than kisses, and the feeling was absolutely mutual.
His chest was pressed against her, and she could feel the pounding of his heart. She undid a few buttons on his shirt and stroked his skin, still kissing him with all the hunger in her heart. His hands were running up and down her sides, brushing against her breasts, re-awakening every fiber in her body.
It couldn’t be wrong when it felt so right, and even if it was wrong to be kissing her dead husband’s brother, the sensations were so incredibly wonderful, she didn’t care. She didn’t want to go beyond kisses, she told herself, but she couldn’t bear for them to end either.
She broke away from his mouth and trailed her lips down his neck. She trac
ed his jaw with her tongue and then was kissing him again. She devoured his mouth like a starving woman, giving into her own wants and needs. His strong hands cupped her breasts, kneading the aching nipples. Her wrap had fallen to the ground, allowing his agile fingers to slip under the thin straps of her dress and tug the bodice down. He dropped to his knees and took her breasts in his mouth, giving them equal time and attention. She threaded her fingers through his hair, holding his head, and thought she would die from pleasure.
Exquisite erotic feelings coursed through her body. How could she have forgotten how good a man’s mouth could feel? But she was pretty sure it wouldn’t feel this incredible if that mouth didn't belong to this particular man.
She opened her eyes, looking down at his tousled sandy hair, and pulled his head back up to hers. With her eyes wide open, she kissed him slowly, sweetly, deeply. This man had reawakened her as a woman. She didn’t know what she would do when he left, but until that moment arrived she intended to give him everything she had.
“Ryan. Let’s go inside.”
He stood up slowly, leaving her eye level with his belt buckle. Even in the moonlight she could see the strength of his arousal.
She stood up also, cupping him as she did so. Her mouth grazed his. “I want you.”
“Are you sure about this?”
She gave a throaty laugh. “Oh, yes. I’m sure.”
His hands skimmed her breasts. “You are so beautiful, Leila, and I want you more than anything.”
“Why do I sense there's a 'but' coming?”
“But I came here to do the right thing. Help you and Callie. Not romance my brother’s wife. Nick is probably rolling over in his grave right now. He’d skin me alive if he knew I was touching you like this.”
His palms were still cupping her breasts, his thumbs running lightly over her nipples. He hadn’t moved his hands away, and if he was waiting for her to remove them, he’d be waiting a long time.
“Forget Nick. I’m sure he’d rather it be you than some stranger.” She didn’t want to think about Nick right now. She didn’t want to think, period.
CONTEMPORARY ROMANCE TRILOGY Page 15
