jerk of her head. “Oh, yeah. Better. And…different.”
With his forefinger, he traced her lifeline, coming to rest at her pulse. “It was pretty intense.” His eyes met hers again. “I can’t say that’s happened to me very often.”
“It’s never happened to me before. I…I don’t know what it means.”
“It could be that it’s been a while for both of us, and that intensified the experience. Or it could mean that we’re particularly well-matched, physically.” He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “Who would have guessed it?”
She flushed. “We aren’t that much alike, are we?”
“But maybe more than you give yourself credit for.”
His words startled her into smiling. “You can’t be serious. We’re nothing alike.”
He shrugged. “Think about it. We’re both driven. Ambitious. We don’t have patience with incompetence.”
She studied his long hair, faded T-shirt and baggy shorts. He was sexy in a just-rolled-out-of-bed way, but he was completely unlike any man she’d ever dated. She couldn’t imagine them being truly compatible. “We live completely different kinds of lives,” she said.
“I’m not likely to forget that.” His gaze took in her silk shirt and designer shorts. “But this weekend, none of that matters, does it?” He released her hand. “This weekend is about doing what feels good. About taking that intensity and running with it.” He stroked her cheek with one finger. “About learning to loosen up and let go.”
She nodded. “Yes.” At least for this weekend she had to stop listening to what her head told her to do, and pay more attention to her heart. She took a deep breath and looked him in the eye. “So what now?”
He sat back and studied her. “I think I want to photograph you.”
She started to laugh, but the seriousness in his eyes stopped her. “Why would you want to do that?”
“I want to photograph you naked.”
The passion in his eyes warmed her, as did the blush that rose to her cheeks once more. “I don’t think—”
His hand on her thigh stopped her. “Don’t think about it now. We’ll talk later. Before the weekend is over.” He stood and held out his hand. “Come on. Let’s go for a walk.”
“Where are we going?” She slid off the stool and put her hand in his.
“Someplace where we can be alone.” He smiled down at her, mischief in his eyes. “Time for lesson number two.”
5
THEY WALKED along the beach, not speaking. Jake was lost in thought, scarcely aware of Glynna’s hand in his or the waves washing over their feet. The idea to photograph her had just come to him, but the more he thought about it, the more intrigued he was. She had a physical beauty that would translate well to film—the trick would be capturing both the outer hardness and inner vulnerability of her personality.
“Where are we going?” she asked again.
Her question pulled him away from puzzling over lighting and setting and all the variables a good photograph entails, back to the woman herself. He glanced at her. The wind had tangled her hair and moonlight silvered her skin. How had he ever thought she was cold? “I’m not sure. But I’ll know it when I see it.” He’d decided earlier that a woman who was always so worried about what others thought of her—or at least what her father thought—needed to be challenged to flaunt convention. Now he had to figure out how to do that.
The music from the karaoke club was closer now. According to the resort brochure, after midnight it became a dance club, with an outdoor dance floor overlooking the ocean. “Let’s go to the club,” he said, heading in that direction.
She lagged behind. “I don’t want to dance.”
He grinned. “You’ll like this kind of dancing. I promise.”
Instead of leading her to the club directly, he took her to the beach below the dance patio. Stone steps led up to the patio itself, and a row of coconut palms lined the stone wall that separated it from the beach. If he remembered correctly… Yes, there it was. A hammock swung between two of the palms, just on the edge of the light spilling from the dance floor.
He led her to the hammock. “What are you doing?” she asked.
“I thought this would be a nice place for a little private dancing.”
She looked up, a worried frown wrinkling her normally smooth brow. Music pounded overhead, mixed with laughter, the clink of glasses and the shuffling of dancing couples. “What do you mean?”
He pulled her into his arms, tight against his erection, so she’d have no doubt of his feelings. “Have you ever made love in a public place before?”
“No!”
She tried to pull away, but he held her close, studying her face to gauge her reaction to his words. “It can be very exciting.” He trailed one finger along her collarbone, down around the curve of her breast. Her lips parted and she let out a soft sigh. “Knowing that at any moment, you might be caught. Someone might hear you.” He kissed her neck and she arched against him. She smelled of vanilla and spice and herbal shampoo. “Someone might see you.”
“I don’t think this is a good idea,” she murmured.
“Why not? It’s not all that public.” He raised his head and looked around them. “It’s relatively dark under here. No one can really see us. And the music’s loud. They won’t hear us. Unless you scream.” He nibbled her neck. “You like to scream when you come, don’t you? And I intend to make you come. Long and hard.”
“Jake, I…”
He pulled back enough to look her in the eye. “You said you wanted to find out about yourself. You do that by taking chances, by doing things you’ve never done before.”
She glanced over his shoulder, out onto the empty beach. “If anyone did see us, they wouldn’t know who we were, would they?”
“They’d think we were one more honeymoon couple, overcome by passion.” He raked his thumb over her nipple. It hardened at his touch.
“All right.” She gave him a tentative smile. “I’ll play.”
The knowledge that she’d overcome her natural reluctance stirred him. He kissed her, hard and deep, his tongue plunging and withdrawing in frank imitation of what he would do with her later. She responded with surprising ardor, pressing against him, her tongue teasing his. While his mouth made love to hers, he caressed her breasts. The silk of her shirt slid beneath his hand, heightening sensation. Her moan cut through him as he flicked his thumb across her distended nipples.
“Here. Sit down.” He nudged her back until she half sat, half fell into the hammock. It swung forward, bumping against him, and she wrapped her legs around him, bringing his erection flush between her spread legs.
Before he could move back, she reached down and shaped her hand to him. “I love it that you’re so hard already,” she said, the whispered words making him harder still.
Determined to maintain control of the situation, he pushed her hand away and took her shirt in both hands and shoved it up over her breasts. Her naked skin was pale in the dim light, her nipples small dark points. At the first touch of his lips on her, she cried out, then clamped her hand over her mouth to muffle the cry. “That’s right,” he whispered against her breast. “Someone might hear us.”
She whimpered and ground against him. The friction was driving him mad and he reached down to unzip his shorts. Her hand on his stopped him. “Let me.”
He wanted to say no, that he was in charge of this “lesson,” but her eyes locked to his convinced