Читать книгу You're What?! - Anne Eames, Anne Eames - Страница 11

When they approached the table a few minutes later, they chose different seats on opposite sides, then sat and stared at the menu selections. They avoided eye contact for several minutes, until the waiter took their orders and removed their props. Now Michelle let her gaze travel slowly to his, her heart thudding beneath her sundress. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way around a man. And she wasn’t sure she liked it. It wasn’t part of her plan at all. Making peace with this stranger was one thing; getting hot and bothered was quite another.

“Do you swim?” Kevin asked, seeming unaware of her musings.

“Y-yes,” she stammered. “Nothing too serious, though. Just like to play around. in the water,” she finished quickly, feeling like a babbling fool.

“I noticed you had a book with you the other day. After lunch, why don’t we put on our suits, catch up on our reading and hang out at the pool for a while?”

She just stared at him, thinking of the skimpy new bikini in her room.

“Unless you’d rather have the afternoon to yourself…”

“No,” she practically shouted. Then finding a remnant of poise, she started again. “No. Your idea sounds perfect.”

Lunch was served and she turned her attention to her chicken salad and melon, grateful when Kevin filled in the spaces with idle talk of the ship and the weather. He truly was a kind and interesting man.

And so good-looking.

Each time she met his steely gray eyes, she thought he could read her mind. If she didn’t find the old cynical Michelle pretty damn quick, he was certain to revert to his original opinion of her.

How she finished her meal and found her cabin, she wasn’t quite sure. But now, standing in front of the mirror, appraising her chartreuse bikini, she wondered how she’d get through the afternoon without making a total fool of herself. How could she act poised around him dressed like this? A shudder coursed through her as she wrapped herself in a white cotton cover-up and slipped into a pair of sandals. Halfway out the door she remembered her book and went back for it, stopping to look at the half-naked clinch scene on its cover. Rolling her eyes, she exhaled a loud breath and made her way down the hall and toward the Pool Deck.

In navy blue swim trunks, Kevin stood sideways in front of the mirror and sucked in his stomach. He didn’t look heavy, he decided. Just a little soft. How long had it been since he’d played racquetball with Paul? All work and no play. Paul was right. He’d become a dull and out-of-shape body mechanic.

He turned back to the sink and leaned straight-armed against the vanity. Paul had been right about many things. He did need a vacation, as well as a change in attitude.

But was he ready for the next step? The mere idea of dating balled a knot of anxiety in his stomach. With Jessica it had been easy. It had been lust at first sight. He’d been just a kid, and he’d never given romance a thought. They’d met on campus, studied together, hung out at the student union and copulated like rabbits.

He lifted his head and stared into the mirror. Next year he’d turn forty. He knew less about women now than he’d thought he did in school.

He pushed off the counter and paced the small quarters. Michelle was intelligent, witty and…and…okay, beautiful. The face and body he had tried to ignore. Unsuccessfully.

Was that the attraction? After all, it had been over four years since…

He stopped pacing. Wait a minute. He’d only held her hand. There was a big chasm between hand-holding and…

This train of thought was crazy. He didn’t know a thing about this woman. Even if he did, that wouldn’t mean she was interested in him. And what about sexually transmitted diseases? He’d never even bought a condom, let alone used one.

He pulled a T-shirt over his head, shoved a newspaper under his arm and practically ran from the room.

“Slow down, man,” he grumbled under his breath.

Grace under fire. That was what he needed. He drew on it every day in the operating room. Where was it now?

Michelle read the same page for the third time, trying again to concentrate on the words in front of her. Finally, she shoved the bookmark into place and laid the novel aside. She tugged at her cover-up, checking that nothing provocative was exposed, just as she spotted Kevin approaching. She wished his white body was a turnoff, but as he strode confidently toward her, his commanding posture and lean physique made her stomach do another somersault.

“Is this seat for me?” he asked, smiling down at her.

“I haven’t had a better offer.” Michelle gestured for him to join her, doing her best to match his casual air.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve been in the water yet,” he said, looking her over.

“No. Not hot enough to tempt me yet.” Poor choice of words. And a lie, to boot. It could be twenty degrees cooler and she’d still be feeling this unyielding heat.

But the idea of removing her cover-up and displaying her body seemed about as appealing as jumping overboard. The chartreuse bikini had seemed like a good idea after a week at the tanning salon. Now she was sure it would look like a neon sign that shouted, Take Me, Take Me.

Michelle looked out of the corner of her eye. Kevin had unfolded his paper and was reading the business section, oblivious to her discomfort. She reached for her book, if for no other reason than to provide a prop for her unsteady hands.

She flipped the page pretending to read. A moment later she turned another one, the silence becoming unbearable. She couldn’t see what had captured his interest. It must be an engrossing article since he hadn’t turned the page once. Finally, she gave up the pretense of reading and sauntered over to the pool. Still covered, she sat gingerly on the edge and dangled her legs over the side. The water was warm yet refreshing. If Kevin wasn’t behind her, she’d shrug out of the cover and slide in.

But in a flash he wasn’t behind her. Without moving her head, she watched his long legs slip into the water next to her.

Whose idea was this, anyway? Spending the afternoon with this…this handsome, eyes-of-steel, male person. She let her breath out slowly, trying not to show her anxiety.

He splashed water in front of him with his feet, still not saying a word. Just when she thought she couldn’t take the silence another moment, he spoke.

“What are you hiding beneath that white thing?” He turned his head and she caught his devilish smile. “Midriff bulge or an appendix scar?”

Michelle straightened her back. “Neither. I…I didn’t want to get sunburned.”

He arched a disbelieving eyebrow. “Okay. Leave it on.”

That did it. She never could back down from a challenge. Implied or otherwise.

As with removing a bandage, she decided fast was best. She stood, untied the sash, dropped the cover and dived into the tepid water. Doing a perfectly clean crawl, she swam the distance of the pool and back to Kevin before stopping for air.

Her chest was heaving rhythmically below the surface. Kevin was staring at her openmouthed, his gaze at water level.

“Nice…stroke,” he said, his eyes eventually straying north.

She caught her breath. “Want to race?” At least it was something physical that wouldn’t get her in trouble.

“I don’t know.” He cocked his head to one side and smiled. “You’d probably win. I’m not in the best of shape.”

“I noticed.” She smiled back before diving deep, coming up near the far end. When she turned and swung her wet hair from her face, he was inches away, his smooth freestyle carrying him past her and to the wall.

With elbows hooked over the edge he eyed her as she came alongside. “How many laps?” he asked.

His breathing was already labored. This would be a piece of cake. She glanced to the opposite end, then back to his challenging smirk. “How does five sound?” She fully expected him to protest.

He took a couple of deep breaths and exhaled loudly. “I’m ready when you are.”

She positioned her hands and feet behind her, gave him one last look, then shouted, “Go!”

They started with a flurry, arms flying. Right, left. Right, left. Kevin was half a length in front of her.

No big deal. So he was a sprinter. She was a long-distance runner.

She let him set the pace, purposefully holding back, measuring her energy. He wouldn’t be able to keep it up. Let him have his ego intact a little longer.

Michelle pushed off the wall as he came out of his turn and stayed with him through laps two and three and into four. Finally, he slowed his pace, his arms chopping instead of slicing through the water, less splash on his kick.

Keeping her same steady rhythm, she pulled alongside, then passed him on the last turn. He was gassed. No doubt about it. But then her own lungs were begging for relief, too.

She could do it. Just half a lap. God, her legs were tired. They felt like dead weights pulling her down. She slowed slightly, gliding the distance with each stroke, hoping the next one Would result in her fingers touching the wall. Two more. Three max.

There was a splash beside her followed by a wake. She pulled hard and touched the wall.

A second behind Kevin.

Gasping for breath, she hung on to the side with one hand and wiped chlorine from her eyes with the other. Kevin’s chest was heaving as fast as her own. He was inhaling, exhaling, lips white with exertion.

But still, she didn’t miss his smile of victory, the glint in his you-didn’t-think-I-could-do-it-did-you? eyes.

“Let me guess,” she said between gasps. “Besides choir, you were on the swim team?”

“The first couple years. Then I got too busy. It’s been a long time since…” He eyed her steadily, his words trailing off.

For some reason, she didn’t think he was talking about swimming anymore, which did nothing to slow her heart rate.

Michelle pushed off the wall and floated on her back, keeping her ears below water, listening to the muted sounds of her own labored breathing. She tried to relax, but the race was no longer the cause for her discomfort. Kevin was an interesting, multidimensional man. Okay. Sexy. Not a model-perfect specimen, but a man with depth, a passion seething right below the surface. She’d heard it earlier when he sang, and seen it these past few minutes in the way he attacked the lane. It wasn’t just the competition that pushed him. She sensed something far deeper in this man—and the observation attracted and alarmed her at the same time.

She heard a splash and lifted her head in time to see his lean torso clear the water and amble over to his towel.

It was only Tuesday. How could she make it to Saturday without succumbing to this growing fantasy? As Kevin had started to say earlier, it had been a long time since.

She swam to the side of the pool nearest her cover and, giving her suit a few last-second modesty tugs, used the steps and left the water.

Kevin wiped his face, then eyed Michelle standing by the ladder as she tightened the sash on her thin white cover-up. Within seconds, the moisture of her suit penetrated the outer fabric and her puckered nipples were clearly visible.

He groaned inwardly, feeling a tightness in his trunks. He hadn’t thought it possible he’d experience such feelings again. Maybe it was merely lust. God knew he was overdue for a little action. But what bothered him was that he liked this woman and he wanted to know what made her tick. He’d always prided himself on being able to see past people’s masks. Now he wondered what some man had done to Michelle to leave her so defensive and wary, so competitive and conflicted.

When he regained control of his traitorous body, he walked over to her, curious what persona she’d display next.

“What shall we do now?” he asked, a smile quirking his lips.

“We?” Her gaze darted back and forth. She picked up her beach bag and looked past him. “I don’t know about you, but I want to get out of the sun, put on some dry clothes and maybe do a little shopping.”

There was no invitation to join her. He took the hint with a mix of relief and disappointment. “Maybe I’ll catch up on some reading back in my room, take a little nap.” She didn’t move. Had he misread her? Had she been expecting another response?