She’d always been an extremely patient person, but suddenly discovered she was very antsy to move on to the next phase of her paid vacation. Her fantasy. Now that she was refreshed and rested, she was eager to taste the heat of passion, and anxious to experience the kind of tantalizing, rapturous sensations she’d only read about.
Shifting restlessly on the lounge chair, she stretched her legs and flicked her flowing skirt over her exposed knees and calves. She frowned, realizing just how clothed she was compared to the rest of the scantily clad women around her—realizing, too, just how much attention they were receiving in comparison.
Though she’d been conservative in selecting her attire since she was a teenager, and had never given fashion a second thought, Alex wondered if maybe she should have purchased more alluring clothing for this vacation. Her one secret indulgence was wearing pretty, lacy lingerie, but her seductive underwear was a moot point if her outerwear didn’t attract a man’s attention.
With a sigh, she ducked her head back to her book, seeing the words but not really reading them as her mind turned over different possibilities. Yes, maybe she needed to change her image and live impetuously for the week, especially at a private resort where no one she knew would see or judge her. She could be anything or anyone she wanted and enjoy the results of being carefree and impulsive with no consequences other than the ones she’d requested. She could be daring, take wild risks, then return home and resume her practical lifestyle, as well as deal with the messy lawsuit awaiting her.
If only her fantasy man would arrive so she could start her journey to self-discovery.
Out of the corner of her eye she caught a glimpse of someone heading across the far deck, down the short concrete steps, and toward the pool…toward her.
Automatically, she raised her gaze to gauge this next potential offering, and her breath caught in her throat as she watched Jackson Witt burn a path closer and closer to where she sat, his stride purposeful and confidently male. Hope and electric currents of excitement mingled, racing through her bloodstream at a rapid pace. Who needed to sit out in the sun when this man had the ability to heat her from the inside out?
He was wearing navy blue swimming trunks and a tank shirt that showcased his broad shoulders and tapered to a lean waist. His strong thighs were toned and muscled, his legs long and well defined. Everything about him was exceptional and sensual and utterly masculine. Everything about him thrilled her.
She jerked her eyes back up to his gorgeous face, wishing he wasn’t wearing sunglasses so she could see his gaze and assess his intentions. Just when she was absolutely certain he would approach her, he stopped abruptly a few yards away. In one fluid motion that set the muscles in his arms and across his back rippling, he pulled off his shirt while toeing off his deck shoes at the same time. He tossed the balled up cotton onto a chaise, added his sunglasses to the top of the pile and, without a glance in her direction, he strode to the edge of the pool. Diving into the water with smooth, graceful precision, he began a series of laps.
She groaned in acute regret, silently chastised her wishful thinking, and returned her attention to her book and off the man that every other woman in the vicinity was ogling. It was fairly obvious that Jackson had forgotten all about her, while he’d starred in her dreams last night and had given her the incentive to venture out early this morning in search of her fantasy man.
He obviously wasn’t the one, she thought, sighing in disappointment.
Ten minutes later, when he climbed out of the pool at the deep end near where she was sitting, Alex forced herself to keep her nose in her book, eyes downcast, and pretend complete absorption in her story. She refused to embarrass herself by gawking at his magnificent body as he sauntered past her chair.
He made it difficult for her to ignore him. Instead of returning to the chaise holding his shirt and sunglasses, she heard the soft, wet, pit-pat of footsteps, then watched his bare feet come into view beside her lounge chair. She swallowed, hard, as water dripped off him and pooled around his legs.
Now what did she do?
Before she could gather the fortitude to glance up and greet him with a polite smile that didn’t give away her strong attraction to him, she was showered with droplets of water as he shook his upper body and damp hair like a wet dog.
She gasped and dipped her head lower as the moisture rained down upon her, surprised at his playfulness when it was the very last thing she would have expected from him. Despite her best efforts, she couldn’t contain the spontaneous laughter that escaped her. “Hey, you’re getting me all wet!”
He stopped shaking himself dry and waited until she finally looked up at him. “Am I?” He asked the question innocently, but his eyes, framed by black spiked lashes, blazed with blue fire and impudence.
She wasn’t used to being on the receiving end of sexual innuendo, but his double meaning wasn’t lost on her. If he was going to be so brazen, then so was she. She wanted to see just how far he intended to take things between them…a light, friendly flirtation, or something more intimate?
“Yes, you are,” she replied boldly.
“Good.” A smile filled with too much satisfaction graced his lips. “You were deliberately ignoring me.”
She opened her mouth to issue a denial, then promptly shut it to rethink her strategy when she realized she’d been caught. “You ignored me first,” she countered, setting her book on the glass-topped table beside her.
“I was hot and wanted to cool off.” He stepped away for a second and dragged a nearby lounge chair over, keeping it aligned in the sun instead of joining her in the shade. Straddling the chair, he plopped down into the seat and finger combed his damp hair away from his chiseled features. “I would have asked you to join me, but you aren’t exactly dressed for a swim.”
She most definitely needed to do something about her attire, including buying a one-piece bathing suit that would flatter her curvaceous figure and attract the attention of a man like Jackson. “I burn easily, so what’s the point of wearing a swimsuit if I’m not going to sit directly in the sun?”
“So you can get all wet,” he said, his amused tone a bit on the naughty side.
Oh, he was bad. And very good. “Which usually leads to playing in the sun and getting burned.”
“That’s what sunscreen is for. And if you just don’t like being in the sun, I’ve been told that there are a few secluded, shady lagoons here on the island that you can reserve for your own private pool party.”
“Really?” she murmured, intrigued by the notion. Intrigued, too, by the subtle invitation dancing in his velvet eyes.
“Uh-huh,” he replied, the sound rising up from his throat in a sexy, arousing rumble. “With waterfalls and hot springs and all kinds of other decadent luxuries.”
He tempted her with his words. He enticed her with the promise she heard in his voice. He enthralled her…lying there in the sun like an Adonis, letting the warm rays worship his body and dry the moisture on his skin.
Unbidden, her gaze drifted to his flat stomach, and she experienced the inexplicable urge to glide her fingers along the droplets of water clinging to the dark trail of hair that whorled around his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his trunks. She wanted to touch the damp, slick flesh stretching taut across his chest, his arms…
“Can I get either of you anything to eat or drink?”
Startled by the intrusion of a third voice, Alex snapped out of her provocative daydream and found herself staring at a waiter dressed in black shorts and a crisp knit shirt. He smiled at her expectantly, pen poised over the pad of paper on his drink tray.
She cleared her throat, realizing that her mouth was