Kristin Hardy - Slippery When Wet

Relax, Taylor, she told herself. Humiliation was rarely fatal, and if Mr. Hunka Hunka Burnin’ Love was having a bit of fun at her expense, he probably thought she had it coming. Play it cool, that was the thing to do. The beach was full of beautiful women. When the entertainment value wore off, he’d probably go about his business. “I see you decided to take my advice, Mr. Carson, and have a vacation,” she said, trying for her dry, customer relations voice, resisting the urge to ask what the hell he was still doing there.

As though he’d read her mind, he gave a slight smile. “Glynnis sweet-talked the tour company into giving me an extra week since it was only one person. You know, extenuating circumstances and all. I figured lying on the beach for a while and enjoying the—” he paused and looked her over “—scenery would be good for me.”

“And has it been?”

His grin widened. “Ask me in a little while.”

“SO YOU CAME DOWN ALONE?”

Dev nodded. “That’s why I was so pleased to see you here.” Pleased didn’t begin to cover it. When he’d first seen her walk onto the beach, long and lovely in her copper-colored sarong, he’d thought he was seeing things. Back in Baltimore, still sporting fresh wounds to his pride, he’d been irritated by her cool attitude, frustrated by the news that his insurance was next to useless, and furious that she was willing to do little or nothing to help resolve the situation. But through it all, he hadn’t been able to entirely ignore that swing of blond hair, those dark eyes, that hint of a dip in her lower lip that made that wide, tempting mouth look like she was perpetually prepared to kiss someone.

And she’d stayed on his mind.

She’d mentioned a business trip to the Caribbean, he’d remembered. Somehow, finding her sprawled on the beach had made him pretty certain that she was finishing up with a vacation of her own. As for Dev, he’d come south with one objective in mind: to find a pretty señorita to drive all memories of his failed engagement out of his mind. And if that señorita proved to be a gringo who’d refused to give him a refund, it would be all the sweeter. He’d watched her untie her sarong and wondered how she would undress for a lover. He’d seen her spread on the sunscreen and wondered how it would feel to touch her smooth skin.

And then she’d stripped off her top and his tongue had just about fallen out of his mouth. Paradoxically, some vestige of the gentleman in him had kept him focusing on her face, not her breasts, even when he’d approached. He didn’t need to cop a sly peek. He knew he’d be able to look at his leisure, and soon.

He’d already decided he was going to seduce her.

Part of him was shaking his head wryly that the one woman who wouldn’t get out of his head right now was the same woman who’d gotten under his skin in Baltimore. Then again, if it hadn’t been for her refusal, he wouldn’t be here on vacation. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still just a bit annoyed.

Now he looked at the downy hairs at the small of her back, on skin pinkening in the tropical sun. “You’re going to get yourself a burn there if you don’t get some sunscreen on. I’ll help if you like.” He picked up the bottle, bouncing it lightly against his hand to shake the lotion down.

Taylor gave him a withering look. “Thanks, but no thanks.”

“You don’t want to get burned the first day.”

She pushed her dark glasses up on her nose, taking another look at him as she did. He looked like some island native, with his skin darkened to bronze, a string of shells tied around his neck. His sun-streaked hair hung nearly to his shoulders and clearly hadn’t seen a comb in days, nor had the stubble that darkened his chin seen a razor. The only jarring note was struck by his eyes, that sea-green that glowed all the brighter against his tan. Eyes that watched her with the lively pleasure of a cat watching a mouse it was toying with.

His teeth gleamed in a smile. “I suppose you could move your lounger into the shade. I’ll help you if you want to get up.” He gave her a guileless look.

It sent her blood to simmer. “Mr. Carson,” she began.

“Dev,” he corrected her.

“Dev. I’m sure you have other things to do today.” Besides heckling me.

“I’m on vacation,” he said lightly. “I don’t have any plans at all.”

“Well good,” she said thinly. “I’m sure that will be fun for you. And while you’re doing that, I’m going into the water. Can you please hand me my top?” she asked with the studied aplomb she used for problem clients.

“Sure.”

This was it, Taylor told herself with a swallow. The moment of truth. Then she heard the Italian woman laugh and she raised her chin a fraction. She wasn’t going to make a fool of herself by trying to wriggle into the top without showing anything. She wasn’t going to hide out like some bashful girl. Dammit, they were just breasts, and he’d already gotten an eyeful. Taylor pushed herself abruptly into a sitting position.

But Dev had already turned away to watch the dive boat come in to the dock that snaked out from the beach. “Are you going diving while you’re here?”

“No,” Taylor said shortly, fumbling to untangle her bikini top and slide her arms through the shoulder straps.

“Those reefs are about the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen,” he said reflectively. “Like underwater palaces.”

“My idea of vacation is lying on the beach and doing absolutely nothing.”

With impeccable timing that she suddenly knew was entirely calculated, Dev turned back to her just as she got her top in place. It was impossible not to like him for it.

“Have you been to this area before?” he asked.

“Nope, this is my first time.”

“Then you’ve got to get out to see the reefs, at least once. Don’t you want to be able to tell your clients about it?”

“I’ll show them pictures.” Taylor stood up. “You can keep your crack-of-dawn scuba trips. I’ll settle for sleeping in.”

“Let me know if I can help.”

She almost gave a snort of laughter before she caught herself. “Thanks but no thanks. I’ll see you around. I’m going into the water.”

Dev rose and sat on the edge of a nearby lounger. “You go right ahead.” He looked her up and down and his grin widened. “I’ll just sit here and enjoy the view.”

Taylor walked down to the water, excruciatingly aware of the swing of her arms, every sway of her hips. Excruciatingly aware of Dev’s eyes on her. She was being silly, she chided herself. He’d harassed her, had his laugh. With all the bare breasts around, he had to have lost interest in her. Still, she could feel two spots burning on the scrap of fabric that stretched over her haunches. Just her imagination, she told herself firmly, she’d look back and he’d be gone. As she stepped onto the damp, firm-packed sand by the water, she glanced over her shoulder toward her palapa. And saw Dev raise a hand lazily, his white smile glittering even from this distance.

Taylor flushed and stepped into the wash of foam.

SHE HAD DIED AND GONE TO heaven. That was simply all there was to it. Tropical sea, an aqua so pale it was luminous, stretched around her. She sank down in the water and looked along the shore to where the pastel wavelets met the periwinkle sky. No wonder everyone dressed in such bright colors in the tropics, they were trying to keep up with the exuberant background.

The gentle nudge of the foot high swells cradled her body. Even though she’d gone past the end of the dive dock to the string of cork floaters that marked the edge of the swim area, she was only chest deep in the warm water, her feet still touching ground. Bright-colored fish whisked along, past the occasional trail of seaweed. The water was clear enough that she could see the shadow patterns of the surface ripples waving on the bottom, could see the vivid red of her toenail polish against the white sand.