Читать книгу Red Shoes and A Diary - Mia Zachary - Страница 9

He is everything I ever wanted in a man, all that I’ve dreamed of. When I see him, there is a primitive recognition. Ours eyes meet, our souls collide.

“YOU’RE NOT what I expected.”

“Pardon?” Meghan blinked and focused on the pirate instead of her runaway pheromones.

“Um, I meant you’re kind of overdressed for a beachside resort.” His mouth curved into an odd smile. “Nice shoes.”

She glanced down at the high-heeled white sandals that went with her walking shorts. “I guess I haven’t gotten into vacation mode yet.”

With a tip of his head, he indicated the crowd of people around them. “This is some party, huh?”

“It just got a lot better.” Was she flirting? She was flirting. Cool.

His smile widened at the inadvertent compliment and he stood a little taller, if that were possible. “I was thinking the same thing.”

Meghan dropped her gaze, not believing him. This guy was sending out signals that had her completely off-balance. She fidgeted, twirling the gold bracelet around her wrist. “So, do you come here often?”

“Never been to this resort before, but I spend a lot of time in Key West.”

“What do you do?”

“I’m a broker.”

She glanced at his shirt. A blind man could see that bold, gaudy pattern a mile away. “Forgive the observation, but it’s hard to picture you calling orders down to the trading floor.”

“Working vacations are always casual. What about you?”

Someone jostled him from behind. As he turned to look, he took an unconscious step toward her. His right hand bumped her breast and a shock of awareness zinged along her nerve endings. She gasped and he swung around, looking at her curiously.

Wow. If she reacted like this to an accidental fondle, she wasn’t sure she could handle a deliberate one. Reeling from the thrill of his unexpected touch, it took a second to remember his question.

“Oh, um. For the past few years I’ve been working as a paralegal.”

“That’s a legal assistant, right?”

“Yes. I did most of the work for a trial, like filing documents with the court, interviewing witnesses and preparing evidence.” Meghan realized she was babbling. She smoothed a damp palm over her hair and cleared her throat. “Anyway, I’m starting at University of Miami Law this fall.”

“So you’re going to be an attorney.” The corners of his mouth angled into a smirk. “Did you hear they’re using lawyers in lab experiments now? Apparently there are some things even rats won’t do.”

“Gee, I never heard that one before.” She rolled her eyes and laughed along with him. “I’m going into civil law, not criminal. I want to do mediation and binding arbitration.”

“I guess this is your last vacation for a while.” He tipped his beer bottle toward her in salute. “Here’s hoping it’s a memorable one.”

She felt another wave of heat, and not just in her cheeks. His voice was low and smooth, as sensuous as the rasp of bodies sliding over satin sheets… The sound of laughter and applause brought her back to the present.

“Want to see what’s going on?” Her pirate gallantly offered his arm, placing her hand in the crook of his elbow. His skin felt warm, the dark hairs silky. Her fingertips tingled at the point of contact, sending a tremor along her nerves.

He forged a path to the pool side of the deck, made space near the railing and maneuvered her to stand in front of him. His body heat penetrated her back and she had a crazy urge to rub her tush against his zipper.

Very subtly, she angled her head to the side. Casting a glance over one shoulder, Meghan studied her fantasy man. She mentally stripped off his garish shirt and tight jeans. His body would be perfect—she just knew it. Lean, hard, athletic. Hard.

If she felt the stirrings of lust, this damp and quivering desire, then she couldn’t be frigid. Her reaction to this gorgeous guy proved that she was a normal, healthy woman.

He must have sensed her ogling him, because he looked down and grinned knowingly. Busted. With a hot blush and a quiet sigh, she turned her attention to the makeshift stage below.

The staff at Cayo Sueño introduced themselves. She listened absently to the various names, origins and job titles.

“—happy to plan your exercise and workout schedule—”

“—adventures await, so stop on by the tour desk—”

“—the fairway at the Key West Golf Club—”

She smiled when Julie grabbed the microphone. The crisp white uniform flattered her sister’s pretty bronze face and showed off her great figure. Jules enthusiastically related the activities available both on and off the island.

“Personally, I don’t think seven days is long enough to enjoy everything we have to offer!”

“Why do I suddenly feel like I’m on a cruise ship?” The pirate murmured the comment, his breath tickling her ear.

She laughed and tilted her face to look up at him. “Cross your fingers we don’t have to play shuffle-board.”

He seemed to hold her gaze, but she couldn’t be sure. She wanted him to take off the sunglasses so she could see his eyes. Would they be green, like the man in her fantasies? Please let them be green.

Jules briefly mentioned the pre-Columbian ruins on the northeast side of the island. She went on to list some of the tours available in Key West, fifteen minutes away, as well as trips to the Lower Keys and the Dry Tortugas National Park. After wishing everyone a fabulous vacation, she said, “Oh, one last thing while I’ve got everybody’s attention. The woman on the upper deck in the beige blouse and white shorts is my sister.”

Startled, Meghan tore her gaze away from the pirate to gape down at Julie, who waved wildly in her direction. It seemed a hundred pairs of eyes turned to stare. Her stomach clutched in dread and she stood motionless in the spotlight of sudden attention.

“It’s Meghan’s first vacation in two years and her first ever visit to Cayo Sueño. I just know you guys are going to make sure she has some fun this week. Thanks!”

For the millionth time in her life, she wished she were an only child. “Julie Anne Foster, I’m going to kill you.”

“Bad idea to announce that in front of witnesses. They tend to remember it when the body is found.”

She turned in the circle of his arm where he rested his hand on the railing. Despite her embarrassment, excitement caught fire in her belly. She was practically in his embrace. All she had to do was lean her head back to kiss him.

“This isn’t funny. One of these guys could be a deranged ax-murdering rapist. Now, no thanks to my meddling sister, he knows my name.”

“Al—” His voice hitched, then he straightened and offered his hand. “Nick. Nicholas Alexander. I’m not an ax murderer. I swear.”

She snickered in appreciation of the joke and reached out. When his large palm enveloped her hand, the softness of his skin surprised her. “Nice to meet you, Nick.”

He finally peeled his sunglasses off and she saw his eyes for the first time. Omigod. They were the light green of spring leaves with long dark lashes. Even better than her fantasy man’s.

He continued to clasp her fingers, tilting his head as if studying her. “And you’re Meghan Elise Foster from Baltimore.”

How did he know all that? Taken aback by the odd tone of his voice, she slipped her hand away. “Yes, I am.”

He stared at her intently, as if he could see into her soul. No one had ever looked at her so…thoroughly. She could lose herself in his eyes. And in the slow, sexy grin unfolding on his face.

“In that case, you’ve got real nice underwear.”

“Excuse me?” She spread one hand over her chest, in case he could somehow see her bra.

His tone was too intimate, his expression too knowing, as he eyed her up and down. “The red lacy ones. Very sexy.”

How could he have seen her underwear? Only the sales clerk had seen her brand-new underwear. “What in the world are you talking about?”

“You left them draped on my couch.”

“Your sofa?”

“Looks like you checked into my suite by mistake. Not that I mind sharing. But I thought you’d want to know.”

“There must be some mistake.” She dug the magnetic card key out of her tote bag and held it up for him to see. “I have suite number 809.”

“Nope. It’s upside-down.” His warm fingers curled over her wrist, then turned her hand until the card faced the opposite way. “You have room number 608. 809 is mine.”

Well, that explained the underwear. Not wanting to believe the awkwardness of the situation, she drew her brows together in confusion. “But this key fits the lock to that suite.”

“Then I’ll take a rain check on seeing you wear those red, lacy panties.” He winked at her, his arrogant reply tempered by a dash of charm and a seductive smile.

The breath hitched in her throat and her mouth suddenly went dry. The cold sting of rain hit Elise’s bare skin as his hot body lowered onto hers… Swallowing hard, Meghan concentrated on the problem at hand. Adopting a brisk manner, she shrugged the tote bag into place on her shoulder. “Let’s go check with the front desk, shall we?”

They joined the group of irritated guests already at the hotel’s reservation desk. The manager apologized to everyone for the apparent malfunction of the key coder. The computer had failed to change the access numbers upon checkout and several rooms were double assigned before the mistake was discovered.

Fifteen minutes later, Meghan stood in the open doorway of suite 809 with Nick and a security guard. She couldn’t believe this. “Are you certain this is necessary, Mr. Brooks?”

“You asked me that four times, ma’am. And for the fifth time, I’m tellin’ you it’s hotel policy not to let no one into another room unescorted.”

Nick tried to reason with the man. “She’s not going to steal anything. Most of the things in there are hers anyway.”

“Hotel policy—”

“She’s not unescorted. I’m standing right here. You don’t have to make her feel like a criminal.” He turned to let his eyes roam over her figure. “Besides, if she does try anything, I’m pretty sure I can take her.”

Oh, he could take her all right. And she wouldn’t resist at all. Temptation dared her to grab the resort bathrobe and bolt just for the chance to wrestle against his long, lean body.

The security guard finally gave in, apparently having taken all the grief he was going to. “Fine, sir. Don’t come yellin’ for me if you got stuff missing.”

When the door closed behind them, Meghan found herself alone with the sexiest man on the face of the earth. Alone with the sexiest man and her own raging hormones. She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “Thank you. I was beginning to think he planned to frisk me.”

“Allow me.” He wiggled his brows and placed one hand on the wall behind her head. “Are you concealing anything? Stolen pillow mints? Pilfered matchbooks?”

His eyes challenged her while his other hand reached out. She held his stare with effort when he stroked his fingertips down her bare arm. Butterflies trembled in her stomach and she gasped softly when he lowered his head.

Omigod. He’s going to kiss me.

She flattened a palm against his chest to stop him. Heat radiated through the bright fabric and her pulse accelerated to match the beating of his heart. Then the sensual light went out of his eyes, replaced by something akin to confusion.

Did he think she was a tease? She wanted to play fast and loose this week, she really did. Just not quite so soon. If she let him keep advancing, they might end up doing it right here on the floor. Hmm. Actually… No, not yet.

Nick looked down at her hand, then back into her eyes. The intimacy of the touch unsettled her and she snatched her fingers away. Uptight. Inexperienced. Embarrassed.

“The only contraband I have is the soap and the herbal shampoo.” Ducking under his extended arm, she darted toward the bedroom to repack.

“Speaking of things that ought to be illegal…”

Hearing the smoky familiarity in his tone, she turned back in time to see him come out of the living room. Her brows furrowed in curiosity, then shot up in alarm. Would the humiliation of this day never end?

“Guess you’ll be needing these back.” Nick held out one sculpted arm, dangling her bra and panties from his hand. He casually stroked his thumb over her intimate wear.

His fingers grazed the edge of Elise’s panties, tickling the sensitive skin along her inner thigh, before sliding inside… Meghan blinked, tried to refocus. The corner of Nick’s mouth quirked and the look in his eyes was pure mischief, as if he suspected her reaction and dared her to come closer to the source.

Okay. She could do this. Lifting her chin, she threw back her shoulders and walked toward him. He skimmed his fingers across her palm when he returned her lingerie. Another hot current passed between them.

A rush of anxiety immediately followed.

What was she doing flirting with a guy like Nick? He could have any woman he wanted. So what mental disorder made her think he’d waste time on her? Loneliness and longing twisted her heart, overwhelmed her. She was boring, she was frigid—she was doing it again.

Meghan slammed the self-doubt aside, concentrated instead on her mission. The plan was to find an attractive man and then entice him into spending the next week indulging in decadent pleasures. Well, she’d found a guy and he was perfect. Nick was everything she imagined the fantasy lover in her diary to be. His dangerously compelling gaze made her yearn for wild excitement and erotic adventure.

Ask him.

She cleared her throat and prepared to inject a sensuous note into her voice. Then she hesitated, not yet braced for rejection, unwilling to make herself vulnerable. No matter how much she wanted to live out her fantasies, things were moving too fast. She should at least make sure he wasn’t an ax murderer before she tried to take him to bed.

Meghan flicked her gaze away and slid the garments out of his hand. She couldn’t bear to meet his eye and see his reaction to her failed attempt at seduction. “Thank you very much.”

“My pleasure.” His rich voice held more than a hint of innuendo. “You know, you didn’t strike me as the red lace type.”

She pressed her lips together and shoved her glasses back onto her nose. Maybe she wasn’t a Sex Goddess yet, but Elise sure was. Red lace underwear and enough attitude to bring any man to his knees. Including Nick.

“You don’t know me well enough to decide what type I am.” Her voice quavered despite her effort to sound confident. She turned on her heel and went into the bedroom. After dropping her tote bag, she hauled open the nearest suitcase and shoved the lingerie inside.

Old heartache welled up inside her, fueled by memories of shyness and humiliation, fanned by self-doubt and fear. She never seemed to fit in anywhere, not even in her own skin.

ALEX WATCHED the fire die out, watched Meghan pull into herself. He was more intrigued than ever. The lady was a walking contradiction. Those journal entries were hot enough to ignite the pages. But now she acted like she wanted to be invisible.

How in the hell could this be the same woman?

Leaning one hip against the dresser, he crossed his arms over his chest and studied her. Meghan Elise Foster from Baltimore wasn’t at all what he’d expected. The description he’d gotten from housekeeping didn’t do her justice.

Short, brown curls framed an interesting face. Behind the wire-rimmed glasses, her eyes were the color of a good single-malt scotch. Warm and sparkling with intelligence. Her golden skin was flawless, highlighted by the sweet flush coloring her cheeks. She had freckles on her nose and a stubborn set to her chin.

Her small, but perfectly formed breasts would fit nicely in the palms of his hands. She had round hips, a great butt and her shapely legs went on forever. He was dying to find out how they’d feel wrapped around his waist.

Moving gracefully around the room, she was doing her best to pretend he wasn’t there. But the frequent glances from under her lashes gave her away. Alex grinned. She was trying way too hard to ignore him. Damned if he would let her. He drifted closer, narrowing the space between them.

“Need any help?”

“I can manage, thank you.”

She gathered her cotton T-shirts, linen shorts, and plain black swimsuit out of the dresser. The neatly folded clothing was just as neatly repacked into the suitcase. She brushed past him, unnecessarily close, and her exotic scent filled his senses. Like getting socked in the gut without warning.

“What’s your perfume called?”

She looked over, startled by the question. “It’s body oil, actually. Calendula flower.”

“It suits you.”

“Oh, really. How so?” Wary curiosity laced her tone.

He cocked his head to one side, assessing what he’d learned about her so far. “Sweet, with an unexpected hint of spice.”

She grinned at him, obviously pleased by the description. The shallow dimple added character to an already pretty smile. Alex wanted to feel that mouth all over his body. Lord have mercy, those lush curving lips could get a man into serious trouble.

And “trouble” was just how he thought of her. He had a job to do, had to prove himself to the DEA all over again. He’d been trained to handle every situation with a cool, clear head. He wasn’t supposed to feel like this, wasn’t supposed to lose control. Her kind of distraction he didn’t need.

His body disagreed. Firmly.

When she picked up the cherry-red “seduce me” sandals, his imagination went into overdrive. He saw her laid out on his bed, wearing the sandals and nothing else, reading her journal to him in that soft husky voice. He shifted to ease the pressure on his zipper.

Alex reached into the open dresser, pulled out a nightgown she’d forgotten in the corner. The white silk whispered through his fingers. He held it up by its thin straps, easily picturing the delicate material against her tawny skin.

“What I said before didn’t come out right. I just assumed a classy lady like yourself wore white or pink or cream.”

“And so you were right.”

He noticed her pulse flutter in her throat as he prowled toward her. “But I’ll bet the red lace looks incredible on you.”

“Yes, it does.”

She held his gaze boldly, like she was testing him instead of the other way around. A wild passion burned through the sadness in her eyes when she looked at him and suddenly he recognized her. She was “Elise,” the real woman hiding inside that killer body. No question.

“Why don’t you show me?”

“Why don’t we leave some things to the imagination? I’m not in the habit of letting strangers see me in my underwear.”

“Lady, those teeny scraps of cloth don’t have enough room for my imagination.”

He’d never reacted to a woman like this before. He wanted to strip away the contradictory layers down to the hot babe hiding inside. Uncovering secrets was his business and he wanted to discover hers, despite his mission and the possibility that she was somehow involved.

Meghan didn’t seem like the type to be working for the cartel. Still, he didn’t like coincidences. And recent events had taught him about deception. If she worked for Braga, he’d find out soon enough. If not, he’d allow himself the brief pleasure of her company before concentrating on his job.

Alex stood close, deliberately invading her space, brushing his index finger across her lower lip. Her eyes widened and her quick intake of breath was one of the sexiest sounds he’d ever heard. He held her gaze, dared her to look away.

“Spend the night with me. Then we won’t be strangers.”