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That easy smile was really starting to work on him. “It’s a start.”
“And you did save me from Fred.”
“Very true. Surely that merits something.”
“If you were a Boy Scout, maybe a badge of some sort.” She bit her lip again, sending a jolt through him. “But I don’t think you’re a Boy Scout.”
“You do know how to wound a man. I may not be a Boy Scout, but I am a good sailor. You needn’t have any worries about surviving the experience. I’ll bet you’ll even enjoy it, despite your reservations.”
She didn’t pick up the gauntlet, but she was coming around. “How about the medium-size one? I can work my way up from there.”
“How about dinner instead? If you still want to start small after that, then I’ll get the dinghy. But I think you’ll come to see the benefits of not setting your sights too low.”
Confusion crinkled her forehead, and it took all he had not to reach for her and drag her below, but there was nothing below but a couple of narrow bunks, completely useless for what he had in mind. “Dinner?” she asked.
He feigned shock. “Of course. You don’t expect me to go sailing with a woman I barely know, do you?”
Ally laughed and nudged him with an elbow. “I don’t know what to expect from you.”
“Just a good time, that much I can assure you.” For us both.
“Then it’s a deal.” Ally stuck out her hand, but instead of shaking it, he squeezed it gently.
Slightly flustered, she stood and brushed at her dress with her free hand. “Should I, um, go change?”
“You look amazing.” She blushed at the simple compliment, and something primal and protective stirred in his stomach. It was an odd feeling. “I, on the other hand, need to shower. You can’t be seen in public with an unwashed swabbie.”
Ally squeezed his hand back as she apologized. “Fred’s a jerk. That comment was uncalled for.”
“I’ve been called worse by better.”
“But still…”
She seemed so earnest in her apology and need to console. “Forget it, Ally.You’re not responsible for the actions of others.”
A shrug was her only response.
“Where are you staying? I’ll come get you around seven.”
“The Cordova Inn. How about I meet you in the lobby?”
He nodded, and steadied her as she stepped onto the dock. The Circe bobbed as she did, and the boat felt a bit empty once she’d left. He was admiring the gentle sway of her hips when she turned and gave a small wave. Another moment and she was around the building and out of sight.
Well, this was an expected turn of events. He’d come to Tortola to get the Circe and found the delicious Ally, as well. His father had called the Circe a lucky boat, and now he had proof. Not that he was ever one to question his luck—he’d learned early on to take advantage of whatever winds came his way.
He went below to get his shaving kit and wished the repairs were further along. Or that he’d at least gotten a proper bed installed. He didn’t mind crashing on the narrow bunks, but the Circe’s cabin was low on creature comforts and not exactly conducive to pastimes other than racing.
That would change, just not soon enough.
Of course, the arrival of Mickey and Victor tomorrow would also put a damper on any on-board activities with Ally. Which reminded him—he still had supplies to stow and he needed to call home.
He’d call and check in with Grace, just to be sure there wasn’t anything too pressing, then he’d call Pops and mollify him over the extended absence.
Thanks to the Circe, the company, the Dagny, and his grandfather were all far away and would remain so for the next few weeks. He stretched, and his fingertips grazed the Circe’s bulkheads. He was a free man. Somewhat free, he amended as his phone alerted him to an incoming text message.
It could wait a while though. Ally was far more interesting than another discussion of the Dagny’s sails or OWD business.
He grabbed his shaving kit and a clean shirt and headed to the marina to shower.
Ally held her composure until she was sure Chris was no longer in sight, then she sagged against the wall of one of the marina buildings. Her legs felt shaky as she let out her breath in a long, unbelieving sigh.
Had that really happened? Had she really just met a real-life Adonis and agreed to…to…She shook herself. Technically, she had only agreed to dinner and a sail, but deep down she was pretty sure she’d agreed to something far more. Chris’s interest went beyond taking her sailing. She wasn’t that naive.
She was, however, completely out of her league. Men like Chris just didn’t appear in her world every day. Men like Chris were the stuff of fantasies. Or movies. They certainly didn’t appear out of nowhere like a dream come true and take an interest in mousy little accountants.
“God, I love this island.”
She wrapped her arms around her stomach and enjoyed the thrill. She had an urge to find that fiancé-banging stupid travel agent and give her a big kiss. Checking her watch, she was amazed to realize dinner wasn’t that far off. She only had a little over an hour to wait, but at the same time, that hour seemed like an eternity. Not that she was interested in food. That feeling in her stomach definitely wasn’t hunger pangs.
Taking a deep breath, she pushed off the wall and found that her legs still weren’t completely stable. Which was appropriate, since she wasn’t sure she was mentally stable at the moment, either. These things just didn’t happen to her. But it had, and she was willing—make that more than willing—to grab this moment and run with it.
She covered the short distance between the marina and the inn in record time and hurried to her room. The light on her phone blinked, indicating she had a message waiting at the front desk, but she ignored it. She wasn’t the least bit interested in her fruity family or whatever crisis they’d concocted for themselves today.
Her wardrobe was limited, as she’d never considered this possibility while packing, and she grimaced at the selection. All of it plain, boring, unexciting—rather like her at times. She wished she had time to go shopping, to find something better, but the clock was ticking. When she got home, she’d do some serious shopping to remedy the sad state of her wardrobe. She did find another sundress that was dressier than the one she had on and wasn’t shaped like a potato sack. It would have to do.
She showered again and took extra time getting ready, wanting to look as good as possible, but her hair wasn’t cooperating. Sighing, she settled for another braid, tucking in the frizzing strands as best she could. At one minute after seven, she took a deep breath and headed for the lobby, half expecting Chris not to show up.
But he did, looking like something out of a magazine in loose linen slacks and button-down shirt with his blond-streaked hair brushed back from his face. That fluttery feeling in her stomach bloomed back to life, followed rapidly by the urge to suggest a quiet dinner in her room.
Chris leaned in to kiss her gently on the cheek, an innocent enough greeting under any other circumstances, but in this case, one that melted her insides and made her knees wobble.
“You look fantastic.”
“Thanks. So do you.” Those blue eyes were going to be the end of her. Seriously. She could stare into them for hours, but when he smiled and they lit…
“Mrs. Hogsten!” The desk clerk approaching her was a wet blanket on her rapidly heating thoughts. She sighed in disgust. Whatever happened to impersonal hotels where none of the employees knew or even cared who you were? She’d love that about now.
“Not Hogsten. Smith. Or even Ally is fine.”
“Of course, my apologies.” At least the pitying look was gone. Instead the desk clerk looked amused as he saw Chris standing so closely beside her. “We have a message for you.”
“Thanks.” She took the piece of paper and glanced at it quickly as the clerk left. “Call home.” Not tonight, she thought, as she stuffed it into her purse. Turning to the far more interesting Chris, she smiled. “Let’s go.”
“Is everything okay?” The concern she saw in his eyes was kind, but she wanted that other light back. The light that said he was interested in her, not what was on a piece of paper in her purse. The one that made her insides turn over and her skin tingle.
“Just my family checking in.”
That other look came back into his eyes, and the butterflies in her stomach fluttered to life. “Good.” Chris took her hand and led her toward the door. “It’s a beautiful evening and the restaurant’s not far. Mind if we walk?”
At the moment she’d gladly walk to hell and back if he’d keep looking at her like she was dessert. Pull yourself together before you jump on him. At least try to act casual about this.
The evening was beautiful and warm, and Ally inhaled the hibiscus-scented air deeply as they walked. This was the stuff books were written about, walking at night on a tropical island hand in hand with a gorgeous man who—
“There seems to be some confusion about your name at the hotel.”
I will not let reality spoil this moment. “Yeah. Well, it’s kind of a—”
“Long story?” Chris finished for her, flashing a smile that made her gooey inside.
“Exactly. And boring to boot. How about you tell me where we’re headed instead?”
“Have you ever had pepper-pot soup?”
She stomped down the urge to skip. “Nope, but it sounds great. Remember, I’m all about new experiences this week. I’m game for pretty much anything.”
Chris stopped walking and pulled her into the shadow of a huge mango tree. Warm hands settled on her shoulders, and Ally forgot to breathe. “Glad to hear it. In fact…”
It was all the warning she got before his mouth touched hers.
His lips were warm and soft and gentle, but she could feel the restraint, the tension in his hands as they moved up to cup her face and his thumbs stroked over her cheekbones. Rising up on tiptoe, she wrapped her arms around him as his tongue touched hers.
And everything changed.
This. This was the kind of kiss myths were built around. Heat and hunger radiated from Chris’s body, warming her blood and making it sing through her veins in answer to the need he stirred in her.
She’d never been kissed like this before, and her world shrank until all that existed was Chris and the feel of him against her and the taste of him on her lips.
A brief jolt of anger moved through her at the thought of all the kisses she’d wasted on Gerry. His lazy, perfunctory, be-happy-you’re-getting-anything kisses had never moved her like this.
Like this, she thought, and banished Gerry from her mind as Chris’s fingers massaged her scalp, and her knees turned to water. Chris caught her weight as she wobbled, fitting her tightly against him, and what little sanity she had left fled at the sensation: scorching kisses along the tender skin of her neck; the play of muscles under her fingers and the thump of his heart against the chest pressed tightly to hers. The bark of the mango tree bit into her back, but she didn’t care.
“Ally,” Chris whispered, the sound slowly filtering through the erotic haze around her, and she shivered at hearing her name on his lips.
She opened her eyes to find him staring intently at her, his fingers still tangled in her hair and his thumbs gently stroking her temples. But there was nothing gentle in the way he looked at her, and the fire burning in those blue eyes sent a shiver deep into her stomach.
Chris shuddered, his breath coming in quick pants like her own. She was glad to see she hadn’t been the only one to be shaken by the power of that kiss. She didn’t have much experience to draw on, but she knew the feeling was mutual. Tightening her fingers on the fabric of his shirt, she pulled him closer, wanting more.
“This isn’t exactly the right place.”
Belatedly, she realized he was right. While not crowded by any stretch of the imagination, there were other people on the street, and several of them were watching the display with interest. She should be mortified, slinking away in embarrassment, but surprisingly she didn’t care in the least.
“And, if you plan on actually having dinner tonight, we should probably stop.” His fingers slid out of her hair, and she could feel the braid hanging drunkenly to one side as he toyed with the loose strands. A rueful smile played on his lips.
Dinner? She didn’t give a tinker’s damn about dinner. The only thing she was hungry for was the man plastered against her like some kind of fantasy in the flesh.
Chris sighed and shifted his weight and Ally tightened her grip to keep him from moving away. For a brief moment indecision nibbled at her. She should let him go. She should go on to dinner. She should act nonchalantly about what just happened. A lifetime’s experience of responsibility and rationality told her to backtrack to the getting-to-know-you steps they’d leapfrogged over with that kiss.
I don’t want to.
The realization shook her to the soles of her plain brown sandals. The sandals were the tipping point. They were practical, boring and suddenly symbolic of her entire existence. She didn’t even have sexy, pretty shoes in her life, much less men like Chris.
Chris.
He hadn’t moved since she’d tightened her hold on him, but she wasn’t sure how long she’d stood there dithering with herself. When she looked up to meet his eyes, she saw the heat and the question there, and her decision became crystal clear.
“I’m not in the least bit hungry, but if you are, I do know a place that delivers to my hotel.”
CHAPTER THREE (#ulink_d0c2fda5-d0c7-5614-947c-62a48e48e277)
ALLY SHOULD COME with a warning label attached. Her words came out of nowhere—okay, not exactly nowhere but close enough—to slam into him with a desire that was almost painful. Underneath that artless, wholesome sensuality and cheeky grin was a woman very dangerous to his sanity.
He hadn’t meant for the kiss to get out of hand. He just hadn’t been able to go another moment without tasting her. The sweetness had been expected, but it was the fire that had caused him to lose control of the situation.
Hell, he’d lost what was left of his mind. Ally deserved better than a mauling against a mango tree in full view of a dozen witnesses. She tensed and he dragged his attention back to her face, only to immediately wish he hadn’t. Her eyes were dark and hungry, her lips swollen and moist from his kiss. Public or not, up against a mango tree or not, he didn’t care.
He just needed her hands on him again.
“Food can wait.”
Her breath caught and she reached for his hand as she turned.
Thank God they hadn’t made it very far. Retracing their steps took only a minute, but it seemed like an eternity. Ally’s hands shook as she tried to unlock the door, fumbling the keys.
He took a deep breath to calm himself and took over the task, silently agreeing with Ally’s muttered “Thank goodness” as they were able to close the door behind them.
One lamp glowed beside the very inviting bed, its sheets already turned down by the hotel staff. The window stood open, allowing the quiet evening sounds of the island to drift in.
Ally seemed slightly uncomfortable once they were alone, her movements stiff as she dropped her bag in a chair and reached up to feel the lopsided braid and try to tuck the haphazard strands back in.
Her hands fell to her sides as he reached for the band securing what was left and freed the curls to riot around her tense shoulders.
“You should wear your hair down more often, Ally.” He threaded his hands back through the silkiness, and her shoulders relaxed as his fingers found her scalp.
Eyes closed, Ally’s head lolled back, exposing the lovely line of her throat, and his lips took the invitation. She hummed in pleasure, and the vibration moved through his body as he pulled her close once again.
The contact brought her to life once again, the tension leaving her body as she moved against him. He took a moment to just enjoy the sensation, patient this time to savor it as he knew he’d be able to feel all of her in just a few more minutes.
But Ally’s hands locked around his shoulders as she moved into him, pressing her lips to his in needy hunger, and all of his good intentions to go slow went up in the flames she fanned in his blood.
Ally felt like she was on fire. She needed to touch him. Needed to prove to herself he was real. Needed to feel him against her, in her. And she wanted all of it now.
The buttons on Chris’s shirt gave way easily, and the chest she’d admired earlier in the day was hers to explore. Her fingers traced the ridges of muscle, and when she retraced her path with her tongue, Chris sucked in his breath in pleasure as his hands tightened in her hair.
A boldness she didn’t know she possessed surfaced and she reached for the waistband of his pants. Chris’s stomach contracted at her touch, giving her room to release the button and slide the zipper over the bulge, causing her thighs to clench in anticipation.
“My turn.” Chris stopped her hands and lifted them over her head before he grabbed the cotton sundress and tugged it off in one smooth movement.
For one brief moment, she felt exposed and uncomfortable, but that feeling was soon chased away as Chris tumbled her to the bed. An acre of bronze skin loomed before the hot weight of him covered her and blocked out any thoughts beyond the screaming need his hands were creating as they moved over her skin.
