“That would be wonderful.”
While Meg wrote down her name and how long she’d be staying, Alex studied the picture that dominated the wall across from the desk. Maybe he was nuts, but it looked like a Monet. Or a Manet. He could never get them straight. Whichever, it looked like something that belonged in a museum. With the blues and greens and soft lilypads, it was as tranquil as the building, as the breeze.
Meg thanked the receptionist, and they turned to leave. She walked slowly, sniffing the air as she walked. “It’s amazing.”
“What?”
“The ocean scent. It’s all over the island. Everywhere.”
“I’m used to the East Coast waters, and I don’t remember this smell at all.”
“I don’t think it’s like the California beaches, either. Maybe Catalina, but not quite. It’s like the ocean mixed with flowers somehow. I wish I could bottle it and take it home with me.”
“If I could get that for you, I would.”
She stopped, smiled at him. “This is the best present ever. You know that, right?”
“I hope so.” He waited, thinking maybe this would turn into a moment. The thought of kissing her was right there, urging him to move, but he held back. The first kiss was going to have to be her call. After that all bets were off. It wasn’t easy, but it was right. He had to wait.
The way she hesitated made him think that she was considering the options. But she didn’t lean forward. All she did was smile. It was enough. For now, at least.
“Where do we sign up for the other stuff?”
“Back at the hotel.”
“Should we do that now? I’m just thinking the place is pretty crowded…”
“Absolutely. Let’s go.”
They walked together, matching rhythms as they went down the steps. Once they were in the cart, he turned around and back to the hotel. It was a little trickier to find a place to put the cart, but after driving a few minutes, he found a space. The crowds here made him glad he’d gotten the bungalow, where it was quiet and empty and far away from all these adoring couples.
The entrance to the hotel was even more ornate than the spa facilities. Big marble steps again, but this time there was a fountain that greeted them just before the open front doors. He’d been to Italy several times and he recognized the fountain. It was a smaller version of the Trevi. When they reached the edge, he looked down and found the bottom glittering with coins of all kinds.
“It’s like that movie,” Meg said.
“Right. Legend has it that if you toss a coin into the fountain, you’re destined to come back.”
“My wallet’s in the cart.”
He dug a quarter from his pocket. “Use this one.”
“Do I have to do something special? Say any magic words?”
He shook his head. “I don’t think so. Maybe turn around and toss it over your shoulder.”
“And make a wish?”
“Sure, why not.”
She did exactly that. Turned and closed her eyes. He could tell she was getting detailed about the wish, because it took some time, but eventually, the coin went over her shoulder and plopped into the water.
When she opened her eyes again, they were filled with pleasure. If nothing else came of this impromptu getaway, at least he’d given her this. A chance to escape from her brutal work schedule, a way to relax and just take it easy.
“Oh, the hell with it,” he said, coming up with another quarter. He turned his back on the fountain, wished in no uncertain terms that the next few days would be filled with a lot more than frolicking in the sand and getting massages from strangers. He didn’t open his eyes until he heard the coin splash down.
Meg seemed to think that was funny, which was okay with him. Damn, her laugh was great. But enough of wishing. He wanted to do the sign-up thing so he could take her to the bungalow.
He bowed toward the door. “After you.”
Tugging him by the shirt, she led the way, but they both slowed as they went inside. He’d heard about the decor here, and the lobby, more than anything else, told him the tales were true.
The interior was huge and elegant. The furniture was mostly rattan, and a dozen huge plantation ceiling fans made it feel like outdoors. Between the couches were glass-topped tables, most of them with large tropical flower arrangements. Like the spa, the art was all Impressionist paintings, damn good ones. If they were prints, they were the best he’d ever seen. If they were real, he couldn’t imagine the kind of security they’d need.
“I think that’s where we need to go.”
She was pointing at the concierge desk, which had a big Activities banner across the front. A nice-looking woman on the phone smiled at them and held out a clipboard.
Meg took it, and him, to a nearby couch. Alex sat, and then she sat. Close. Really close. Jesus, this was bad. This was really bad. He was way too aware of how much he wanted her, and it had been what, an hour? He could not go there. Not yet. There was time. Now if he could only convince his dick that it should chill.
“Wow, this is a lot of stuff.”
He looked at the list as she filled in their names. All major groups were included, from windsurfing to climbing a rock wall.
“Jet Skis. Cool.”
He could do Jet Skis. Anybody could do Jet Skis, right? “Great. Mark that one.”
“And scuba, of course,” she said.
“Uh, yeah. Sure.”
Meg turned to him. “Are you certified?”
“Not exactly, no.”
“I see.”
“I’ve watched reruns of Sea Hunt on Nick at Nite. Does that count?”
She grinned.
It wouldn’t do any good to be embarrassed. In fact, it was stupid, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted her to think he was the alpha male. All buff and strong and able to slay the woolly mammoth. Unfortunately, what he was really good at was conjugating verbs.
“What else?” she asked.
He looked down the list. “Volleyball?”
“I haven’t played since high school, but I really liked it. Let’s do it.” Her comment was punctuated by an audible tummy gurgle. Meg blushed, squinted her eyes.
“Okay, next on the tour will be food, yes?”
“Probably a good thing. The last food I had was hours and hours ago.”
“All right. Anything else you want to play?”
She looked at him as if he was going to slap her hand away from the cookie jar. “Do I have to decide it all right now?”
“No, you don’t. You don’t have to do a damn thing you don’t want to. Vacation, remember? All fun, all the time.”
“Good. Let’s get fed, and then…” She hesitated.
“Yes?”
“Then you can take me to the bungalow.”
MEG SAT AT THE LITTLE table, waiting for Alex to come back with their food. She’d ordered too much, but screw it, she was starving. Besides, everything smelled like heaven, and she was a fiend for fish tacos.
She looked behind her. There he stood, chatting with some tall cowboy guy, looking very fine and a wee bit impatient.