his eyes, it wouldn’t take much to coax him.
He released her and then pulled the towel from around his neck and draped it over his arm. But not before she saw the erection he’d been trying to hide.
“Okay, we’ll at least have a drink.” God, she just hoped her legs still worked.
He took her hand, the feeling as natural as if he’d been doing it for a lifetime, and led her toward the hotel.
“I think the pool bar is that way,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction.
Rick squeezed her hand. “We’re not going to the pool. We’re going to my room.”
3
LITTLE, SKINNY, freckle-faced Carly Saunders. Rick shook his head as he got out the miniature bottles of booze from the small refrigerator. This was the last place he would have expected to run into her. Not that he’d given her much thought over the past eleven or twelve years.
Yeah, he’d wanted to kiss her that day they’d gone for a hike and picnic near Little Reservoir, but that had been hormones talking. She’d been far too young for him.
He turned around to look at her sitting on the couch. She sure wasn’t now.
“Either a Bloody Mary or a screwdriver is about all we have the stuff for,” he said. “Or a beer. What’s your pleasure?”
She blinked, and he hoped the same thing crossed her mind as did his. “I’d rather have a soda or water.”
“Even if I promise not to take advantage of you?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Who’s to say I won’t take advantage of you?”
He laughed. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to get me drunk. I’ll do anything you want.”
Carly laughed. “I’ll stick with a soda.”
“Coming right up.” He busied himself filling a glass with ice, coaching himself to ease up. Was she here to get laid like most of the guests? The Carly he remembered wouldn’t be, but of course it had been a long time. People changed.
Amazing how he’d immediately known it was her. Especially since she looked pretty different. Most of the freckles were gone, but she had that clear fair skin that showed every hint of color when she got embarrassed.
“Here you go.” He handed her a cola and sat down on the couch beside her with his beer.
She recrossed her legs so that she angled away from him.
He nudged her with a light elbow to her ribs. “You still think I have cooties?”
“I never accused you of having cooties.”
“Sure you did. The first day I met you in my grandmother’s backyard.”
Her eyes seemed greener than he remembered, more almond-shaped. “Number one, I was only eleven. Number two, you can’t remember back that far.”
“Wanna bet? You climbed the fence to find a softball you’d thrown over the day before.” He took a gulp of beer. “Probably just looking for an excuse to meet me.”
She laughed. “I see you haven’t changed.”
“What?”
“Just as arrogant as ever.”
“Me? No way.” Having two famous parents didn’t inspire confidence or arrogance.
“Please.” She gave him the eye-roll again.
“You really think I was arrogant?”
Carly laughed, her sweet warm breath fanning his chin and shoulder.
“Come on, explain.” Not that he cared. Right now all he could think about was what he’d glimpsed under that sarong. She sure wasn’t that same skinny kid anymore.
“Don’t you remember how you used to drag out all those exotic pictures of you and your parents at different archeological digs?”
“You seemed pretty impressed.”
“I was. Heck, I hadn’t been farther than Salt Lake City and you’d been to places I’d never heard of and couldn’t even pronounce.”
“How does that make me arrogant?”
She took a sip of her cola, and the way she pursed her lips around the rim of the glass had his thoughts heading due south. She’d started to relax and probably didn’t realize that her sarong had puckered open a bit, giving him a great view of her flat belly and the underside of her breasts.
She set the glass aside. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t think we were all a bunch of hicks living in Oroville.”
“Yeah, I probably did. But come on, I was only a kid myself. Cut me some slack.”
“You asked me to explain.” A smile lifted her rosy-pink lips. They were naturally that color, he seemed to recall, as if she were wearing lipstick all the time.
He took another gulp of beer. “You sure you don’t want a screwdriver or something?”
“Positive. It’ll make me sleepy.”
His gaze went to the bed and his pulse picked up speed. “We get in that bed and it won’t be to sleep.”
She laughed. “Rick.”
“What? You don’t think I had a thing for you, too?”
“I was too young, remember?”
“You were a girl. I liked you. I had hopes.” He let the back of his fingers brush her arm. “And you’re not too young anymore.”
She moistened her lips, and then they parted as if she were going to say something. Only nothing came out.
He smiled. “You have plans for dinner?”
Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Not really. I’ll probably be eating with Ginger.”
“I have a feeling Tony will be keeping her busy. He has a debilitating weakness for redheads.”
“A match made in heaven. She has a weakness for nice chests.” Color seeped into her cheeks. “I assume she thinks he has a nice chest,” she murmured, then grabbed the cola and tipped it to her lips.
He frowned, annoyed that Carly had obviously been eyeing Tony. “I’m guessing Ginger is here for the same reason.”
She arched her brows at him. “You mean, to take a vacation before starting work?”
“Don’t get so defensive,” he said, playfully cupping the back of her neck. Her skin was so soft and warm he wanted to run his palms all over her. Hard to believe this was the scrawny little tomboy who’d taught him how to bait a hook and beaten him at soccer. But here she was, all grown up and filled out. Soft and curvy, and making his blood simmer.
“I’m not defensive. It’s just that you’re making too big a deal out of a simple vacation.”
“My apologies.” He continued to massage her nape, pleased when she briefly closed her eyes and let her head fall forward.
His gaze followed the rise and fall of her chest, the way the rounded tops of her breasts pushed up above the sarong. The strong urge to slide his hand between the overlaps of the fabric made him sit up straighter and strategically angle his arm over his overactive crotch.
“Feel good?” he asked,
“Oh yeah.” She sighed. “Too good.”
“Nothing can feel too good,” he whispered. He had to watch himself. Given the slightest encouragement, he’d crawl all over her. He eased up, letting his fingers trail away. “About dinner…how about we get together?”
“I don’t know.” She sat up