later he coasted into shore, picked up his board, tucked it under his arm and jogged towards her.
For some inexplicable reason she felt compelled to get up and run to meet him halfway. Last night when he’d comforted her might have been the catalyst, or maybe his admission on the beach earlier today, but whatever it was she felt she wanted to be close to him.
As he drew near the urge intensified, and when he smiled at her, with tiny rivulets of sea water running down that impossibly handsome face, her heart twisted like one of the fancy manoeuvres he’d pulled out there.
She wanted him.
With a desperation that clawed at all her well-formulated, highly logical reasons why she shouldn’t, shredding them beyond repair.
‘You’re looking at me like I’m Red Riding Hood and you’re the big bad wolf.’ He laid the board down and sat beside her. ‘My showy moves impress you?’
‘You impress me,’ she said, sucking in a deep breath and covering his hand with hers.
His questioning stare snagged hers, and with her heart pounding loud enough to drown out the breaking surf she leaned across and did what she should have had the guts to do earlier that morning.
She kissed him.
* * *
Archer had pulled some pretty fancy moves out there. Show-pony stunts: fins out, a sharp turn where the fins slide off the top of the wave; soul arch, arching his back to demonstrate his casual confidence; switch-foot, changing from right to left foot forward, and hang-ten, putting ten toes over the nose of his long board.
Usually when he hit the waves he surfed for himself, for the sheer pleasure it brought him. It was that enjoyment that gave him the edge in competitions, for he concentrated on fun and not his opponents.
Not today. Today he’d surfed to impress Callie.
By that lip-lock she’d just given him it had worked. And how.
If he’d known that was all it would take he would have hit the waves the first day they’d arrived.
‘You’re grinning like an idiot,’ she said, nudging him with her elbow.
‘It’s not every day a guy gets a kiss like that for balancing on a few waves.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Give me a break. You get smooches from bikini babes every time you win a tournament.’
‘Congratulatory kisses.’ He traced her lower lip with his fingertip, exploring the contour, feeling the faintest wobble. ‘Nothing compared to that lip-smacker you just planted on me.’
She blushed, but to her credit didn’t look away. ‘You wanted a date for the wedding. I’m just trying to make it look authentic.’
‘How authentic do you want to get?’ He puckered up in a ludicrous parody and she chuckled.
‘How important is it for you to convince them I’m the real deal?’
His smile faltered as her innocent question hit unerringly close to home. ‘Hold my hand, gaze adoringly into my eyes, smooch a little. Well, actually, a lot. That should do the trick.’
‘So why would you need a date to your brother’s wedding anyway?’
He’d been waiting for her to ask that for days, but she’d been so hell-bent on burying her nose in business and avoiding him that they hadn’t strayed into personal territory. It looked as if last night had well and truly changed all that.
‘Things with my folks are a little tense when I come home for flying visits. It’s awkward.’
He waited for the inevitable why but she surprised him, tilting her head to one side as if studying him. ‘I’m surprised a tough guy like you can’t handle a little awkward.’
He should have known she wouldn’t buy his trite answer. But how could he tell her the rest without having to answer a whole lot of other questions he’d rather left unsaid?
‘It’s easier this way.’ He snagged her hand and pressed a kiss to her palm, enjoying the flare of heat in her eyes. ‘And much more enjoyable with a date I actually like.’
Her nose crinkled adorably. ‘You like me? What are you? In fifth grade?’
‘You’ll be pleased to know I’m a lot more experienced than I was in fifth grade,’ he said, tugging on her hand until she almost straddled his lap. ‘I like you, Callie. You know that. And I’d like nothing more than to spend the next few days showing you how much.’
He expected her to bolt again. To revert back to business mode. To resurrect the invisible wall she’d steadfastly maintained since they’d arrived.
Instead, she surprised him.
She captured his face between her hands and gently bridged the distance, whispering against the side of his mouth, ‘Then what are we waiting for?’
* * *
Callie didn’t want time to second guess her impulse.
She wanted Archer.
Now.
‘Let’s get cleaned up, grab some dinner, then head home—’
‘No.’ It almost sounded like a desperate yell, and she laughed to cover her nervousness. ‘I—I want this to be like in Capri.’
His eyes widened at the implication.
He remembered. Remembered that hedonistic time in a sheltered alcove on a deserted beach. Remembered the frantic hands and straining mouths and incredible eroticism of it.
‘You sure?’
‘Never been surer of anything in my life.’
And then she promptly made a mockery of her brave declaration by stumbling as she tried to stand.
He steadied her, his gaze never leaving hers. ‘Cal, do we need to talk about afterwards? Because nothing will change. Our lives are separate—’
‘Since when did you talk so much?’
She silenced him with a kiss—a hot, open-mouthed kiss designed to distract and titillate and eradicate any lingering doubts they might harbour.
When they finally came up for air, he held her hand as if he’d never let go. ‘There’s a bunch of deserted dunes just over that hill.’
She liked how he didn’t spell it out, how he left the option up to her with his silent challenge.
Tilting her head to meet his heated gaze, she tried her best sexy smile and hoped it didn’t come out a grimace. ‘Lead the way.’
After making a detour to the sheds, where they struggled out of their wetsuits and Archer snagged his wallet and a throw rug, they ran, their feet squeaking on the clean sand, their soft panting in rhythm with her pounding heart.
When they crested the hill and she saw the pristine dunes stretched out before them tears stung her eyes.
It was so beautiful. A perfect place to resurrect incredible memories and to create new ones.
They didn’t speak as he led her by the hand to a secluded spot sheltered by an overhanging rock, laid out the rug, and knelt.
She’d never felt so worshipped as she did at that moment, with the guy she’d once had serious feelings for kneeling at her feet and staring up at her in blatant adoration.
When he tugged on her hand she joined him on the rug and in a flurry of whispered endearments, sensual caresses, and mind-blowing passion they came together.
Afterwards, as Archer cradled her in his arms and she stared at the seagulls wheeling overhead, Callie wondered one thing.
What the hell have I done?