to find out.”
HAD HE SLIPPED something into her cola? Or had she simply been hanging around with Ginger too long? Carly Saunders was not that bold. Well, sometimes, but in many ways she was still that shy little girl Rick had first met, full of false bravado and bluster on the outside.
She looked away, out of the window toward the ocean. Not that she could actually see it from where she stood but she imagined the warm blue-green water gently lapping against the shore. The image did little to calm her.
“Carly?”
She wouldn’t look at him, and instead reclaimed the Bloody Mary off the top of the mini-bar. He hooked a finger under her chin and brought her face around to meet his. The hunger in his eyes sent a thrill of pleasure up her spine. She forgot for a moment that she held the glass, and it tilted, the liquid sloshing on her hand and wrist
“Let me help clean that up.” Then he picked up her hand and bent his head.
Mesmerized, she watched as his tongue made contact and he licked off the spilled liquid. Her breath caught at the velvet warmth of it, and she closed her eyes, knowing she should stop him, but helpless to do so.
He continued licking his way up her arm, until he got to the curve of her neck. He kissed her there and then worked his way up to her ear.
She let her head loll back. This was much better than anonymous. This was Rick. She knew him. She trusted him.
He made a low guttural sound and captured her mouth. She responded, holding nothing back, opening up to him, their tongues meeting in an erotic dance.
When his hand moved to the knot securing her sarong, she didn’t stop him. When he untied it, letting it fall to the floor, and then slid his palm down the curve of her hip, she still didn’t object. In fact, she did some of her own exploring, running her hand over his flat taut belly, and twirling a finger in the hair around his navel.
He was the one to finally break the kiss, his breathing ragged and heavy. “We’d be more comfortable in bed.”
She swallowed, her breathing not so steady either. “God, this is so hard.”
“Not as hard as I am,” he whispered, lightly biting her earlobe.
“You’re awful.” She smiled at the casual way he ran his hand up and down her side as they talked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
“And you love it.”
Carly bit her lip. That was the problem. She did love it. She loved Rick’s irreverence, his sense of adventure, and his go-for-it attitude. She remembered how much she’d learned that first summer with him. Oh, and the fun they’d had—even though she’d gotten into more trouble than ever before in her whole life. She’d also learned that it wasn’t so easy being the pastor’s good daughter.
“We have to take this slow,” she said firmly, straightening so he knew she meant business. “Really think about it.”
“I’ve hardly thought about anything else.”
“Rick.”
The pleading in her voice must have sunk in because the amusement faded from his face. “We’ll take it slow,” he said as he toyed with the elastic of her bikini bottom, slipping a finger inside, stroking her skin. “Did I ever ’fess up about the dreams I had about you?”
She shook her head, his mesmerizing gaze capturing hers. “Tell me now.”
He added another finger to his exploration, and yet another, and then followed the curve of her bottom, but not too far. Nothing threatening. Just enough to tease her. Make her wish he’d cup his palms over her flesh and pull her against him. Make her forget about going slow.
“I guess I wouldn’t have said anything then, especially at sixteen,” he said, watching her, his gaze locked onto hers. “Way too embarrassing.”
Mimicking him, she traced the top of his waistband, letting her fingernails dip under the elastic, pleased at his sharp intake of breath. “I hope you’re going to tell me now, since you brought it up.”
“It was the typical sex-crazed sixteen-year-old boy’s dream. I think I’ll leave it at that.”
Carly smiled. “Okay, then let’s talk about what you’ve been doing since then.”
“I thought that would be the kind of thing you would want to avoid on this vacation.”
Annoyed with herself, she lowered her hands. She was curious about him, about what he’d accomplished, but he was right, getting personal led to intimacy. Exactly what she wanted to stay away from.
He shifted away and reached for his beer. “Okay, what the hell…after high school I went on to USC. Stayed for two years of graduate school. Then headed for Kenya and the Ivory Coast.”
“To dig?”
“That, and to see the sights.” He brought the beer to his lips, drained it and opened the small refrigerator. “What about you?”
“That’s all?” She laughed, and he stared blankly at her. “Silly me. Everyone’s been to Kenya. Must make for very boring conversation.”
Ignoring her sarcasm, he got out another beer. “In school I did a lot of studying and an equal amount of partying. Just your average college Joe.”
“You’ve been everywhere. That’s hardly average.”
He shrugged. “I haven’t traveled much since. I’ve come here on vacation for the past three years.”
She frowned. He’d been dead set on studying archeology, on making his mark in the same field as his parents. That required travel. “I’m assuming you studied archeology.”
“Oh, yeah. Got my master’s and all that.” He gave her a pensive look. “You always wanted to teach. Is that what you’re doing?”
“I will when I go back to Oroville next week. Well, in two months when the school year starts.” She paused, hoping he’d continue. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing.”
“Trying to seduce you.”
“Come on.” She gave him a playful jab, but her insides were already turning to butter. “I’m serious.”
He took a swig of beer, and faced her, determination and desire blatant in his eyes. “So am I. But—” He held up his hands in surrender. “We’ll take it slow.”
“Thank you,” she said, her voice a breathless betrayal. “Let’s talk some more.”
“Oh, brother.”
She ignored his grumpy expression. “How are your parents?”
“Divorced.”
“You’re kidding.”
“Why the surprise? It happens to couples all the time.”
“So they don’t work together anymore?”
He gave her a mocking look. “That’s about the only thing they could do together without fighting.”
“I didn’t know,” she murmured. As a boy he’d told a different story. To him they were like gods.
“No big deal.” He set down the beer. “If we’re going to talk, sweetheart, it’s not going to be about the past.” And then he reached for her. “Let’s talk about what we’re going to do tonight….”
4
“IN CASE you’ve forgotten, this room has only one bathroom.” Disgusted, Carly pounded on the door for the third time. The lighting at the desk was too dim and she had only five minutes left to finish applying her makeup.
“Hold on.” Ginger’s impatient tone only made Carly more annoyed. “This