Читать книгу Call To Redemption - Tawny Weber - Страница 10
ОглавлениеAS DISTRACTIONS WENT, Nic had to admit this one was pretty damn compelling.
Short black hair framed her face with sharp lines and spiked edges, the glossy style reminding him of a jagged piece of obsidian. The late-afternoon sun glinted gold off a face worthy of a second, third and even fourth look. Slashing cheekbones aimed toward her lush mouth and strong brows arched over her wide-framed sunglasses.
There was nothing overtly sexy about her simple green sundress. Wide straps and a squared-off neckline didn’t show a lot of skin. The loose fabric fluttered and settled, but didn’t hug tight enough to show the curves beneath. And while the skirt hit her knees, he’d gotten a good enough look at those legs on her trip down the stairs to know they were prime.
She looked like a sexy anime figure or a sassy fairy. Not the sugary sweet kind, though. The kind that could kick serious ass and stir up all manner of mischief. It was an interesting contrast to the back-off vibe she exuded.
He probably could have ignored her sultry intensity, or the hint of wildness. But all of that and the challenge of breaking through her shield of indifference? That was almost impossible to resist.
Nic tipped back his beer and watched her scan her cell phone. After a quick check, she set it facedown on the table. Tapped her fingers on the case while staring out at the ocean. Lifted the phone and checked again. This time when she set it down, she slid it behind her drink.
He started the countdown in his head.
Ten seconds.
He could practically see her vibrating her way through them before she reached for the phone again.
Not used to relaxing, he deduced.
He could relate.
It’d taken him years to learn to shut it off and be in the moment. Especially if the moment demanded relaxation.
His gaze roamed her face again, with its impression of sharp energy contrasting with her sensual beauty.
Maybe he could give her a few tips.
Nic leaned against the bar and considered.
Not since his college days had Nic had to pick up a woman. Since he’d joined the Navy, especially since becoming a SEAL, the women usually made the initial move. From a time-management standpoint, he appreciated that. It meant he simply accepted or deflected, depending on the circumstances.
Not that he was a dog about it. But like Flipper always said, there was something about being a SEAL that turned any man into a total chick magnet.
A rock-hard knot of pain hit him in the gut at the thought of Flipper, as the team had dubbed Chief Warrant Officer Mason Powers over a decade ago. Nic swallowed against the misery in his throat, trying to shrug off the heavy weight of what he knew a Navy shrink would term depression.
Another reason he’d agreed to take leave—to avoid the threatened psych eval the Admiral’s assistant kept muttering about.
So instead of delving into his reasonable grief in search of underlying issues, or parsing the text of his remorse over the lack of power in an untenable situation, he’d opted for the beach.
Now he had the choice to sit and brood in his beer over things that couldn’t be changed. Or to make the most of the moment.
A man trained to respect that moment rarely lasted long, Nic didn’t have to debate that choice. Instead, he stood and, beer in hand, headed across the patio.
“Hello,” Nic greeted, and sat down opposite the sexy pixie.
She was even better looking up close, he noted, his gaze skimming the fullness of her lower lip and the tiny sprinkle of freckles scattered over her shoulders.
“Hello,” she returned in a voice just as sexy as her appearance. The sound was low and hinting at husky—the underlying strength spoke of confident assurance.
She didn’t act surprised or attempt coyness. She simply gave the slightest tilt of her chin and waited.
“Are you here alone?”
“Why? Are you looking for a threesome?”
Whoa. Nic blinked. He didn’t know if it was the image flashing through his mind—both women looking exactly like the one in front of him—or the bold declaration. But damn, he got hot.
It’d been a long time since his squid days if a comment like that could make him blank on a response. But shore leave was like riding a bicycle. Hop back on, take a second to balance, then ride it for all it was worth.
“I’ll be honest. I’ve never had to go looking,” he admitted with a rueful smile. “How about you? If I stay in this seat, is it going to be an issue for someone joining you?”
She seemed to consider that question for a long moment before her smile widened. Reaching up, she slipped those oversize glasses off so the dark lenses no longer shielded her eyes.
Nic could only stare.
Damn.
He’d taken a hit to the head once when blocks of an exploding building bounced off his helmet. It’d left him stunned, staring and stupid.
Kind of like now.
The woman was hot, no question about it. But those eyes? Those eyes were amazing.
Huge, so big they almost overwhelmed her face. Round, with just the slightest tilt at the corners, her molten-gold gaze was lushly lashed and oddly erotic.
Before he could say anything stupid—before he could even think of anything stupid to say—a movement caught the corner of his eye.
Shit.
Nothing put the skids on a successful pickup than a gregarious relative with a million stories to tell and family pride oozing from his veins.
Before he could signal his uncle to stay back, the older man strode over with a wide smile and slapped Nic on the back.
“Dominic, there you are. And with such a lovely companion. Welcome to Keola Hanalei, madam,” the large man greeted, lifting the brunette’s hand to his lips. Nic watched her face, noting her surprise at the move, but he was glad to see there was no insult or disdain on her face.
“Your resort is lovely, Mr. Keola.”
“Michael. Any friend of Dominic’s must call me Michael.”
Nic sat back, silently watching as his uncle deployed his legendary charm and asked the brunette if she’d ever visited Hawaii before, then suggested sights to see, things to do. More, he watched her reaction. Respect, a hint of flattery and sincere interest as Michael covered topics ranging from his favorite meals to try to the best places to buy souvenirs.
“It’s not often that my nephew is here to visit, but he knows the island and its delights as well as anyone. You’re in good hands. But if there is anything you need, you’ve only to ask.”
With that and another of those old-world hand kisses that Nic figured only his uncle could pull off, the man left them to greet more guests.
And the woman simply stared, those anime eyes assessing for a long moment before she smiled.
“So, Dominic? What do you recommend?”
He started to correct her. He was only Dominic to a few stubborn holdouts in his family. Everyone else had called him Nic since he was ten. But there was something about the way she said his name, the syllables rolling off her tongue, that stayed his words.
“Are you a fan of fluffy drinks?” he asked instead.
“Only inasmuch as I can now say I’ve had one,” she responded with a laugh.
“Then I recommend we get to know each other better over a real drink.”
“Define real.”
Nic’s smile widened. He leaned back in the chair and prepared to enjoy himself. As he did, he noted that the band was setting up. Within twenty minutes of tuning up, the lanai would be crowded with bodies boogying to the island beat.
“Real, as in not decorated with flowers. If you’re hungry, the food down here is good. Simple, upscale from the usual bar choices.” He tapped the menu she’d yet to check out. “I can recommend the taco platter. The chef has a way with pork and pineapple.”
“Mmm.” She drew one long finger over the menu but didn’t pull it closer or try to open it. “Any other recommendations?”
A few came to mind, but it seemed a little early in the evening to suggest naked dancing. Yeah. His gaze swept over her curves. He’d bet she’d look damn good at it.
But he had no clue if she could dance.
He should find that out, first.
That, and her name.
“The band is solid and you’ve got a good seat for the show. But if you were more interested in a quiet dinner watching the sun set over the ocean, you might want to try the third-floor restaurant.” He indicated the spiral staircase she’d descended earlier. “The view is worth the climb.”
“Is that a fact?”
“Yes, ma’am, it is. Call it my public service announcement for the evening.”
That teased a hint of a smile out of her. One she quickly hid by sipping her drink.
“Do you do that often? Serve the public and help them avoid overly loud dinners?”
“You could say I’ve made a career of it.”
“Do tell.” Her body language was subtly flirtatious, but even with those huge eyes locked on his face, he couldn’t read her well enough to know if that was a green light or a cautious yellow.
Nic didn’t brag about what he did, but he didn’t hide it, either. Simply put, there was nothing relaxing about talking about his work. Not right now. Not when just thinking about it felt like a blow to the chest, leaving him breathless and empty.
So he sidestepped.
“Let’s just say I’m gifted at seeing my way around any variety of obstacles while engineering the successful outcome that serves people of all walks of life.”
Check him, he thought, grinning. He could have a future in politics. Or with the Navy brass, which was sometimes the same thing.
“Well, that’s intriguingly vague,” she said with a laugh.
“Intriguing enough to tempt you to have dinner with me?”
Narrowing those eyes in a cautious way that made him want to know all of her secrets, she gave him a considering look before offering the smallest of shrugs.
“I’d hate to let your public service announcement go to waste. And this will give you time to tell me all about how you serve people with engineered outcomes.”
Instead of answering, he held out his hand to help her to her feet. As soon as her slender fingers were tucked in his, he changed the subject. Walking up the stairs to the restaurant, he shared the family story of how his uncle and father had collected every single shell that was embedded in the airy spiral staircase.
He wasn’t going to talk about his career.
He was on leave, and for the first time in his life, he was focusing on his wants. His needs. And right now, he needed to simply be a man.
One evening wouldn’t hurt, he told himself, ignoring the stabbing sense of disloyalty.
Not if that one evening brought him even an iota of solace against the pain.
* * *
SO...
This was romance.
Darby released a long, surreptitious breath as she stared across the table, crystal shimmering in the moonlight, silver gleaming in the glow of three fat candles flaming in their abalone bowls. The ocean hummed a gentle symphony in the background, the waves cresting white while rich purple blossoms scented the air with sweet seduction.
Even as she settled into the plush chair cushion, she could feel her muscle fibers twitching against the need to get up and run.
She shouldn’t be here.
She wasn’t cut out for romance.
Hell, she didn’t even believe in the concept.
But as Dominic slid into his chair, all those thoughts faded in a haze of lust.
God, the man was gorgeous.
Her muscles twitched again, this time with the need to slide her hands over the breadth of those shoulders. Just to see if they were as rock-solid as they looked.
But she was pretty sure once she had her hands on that body, she’d be hard-pressed to keep her exploration to just his shoulders.
Desire tingled over her skin. Tingled, for Christ’s sake. She, the woman who’d laugh if anyone else said that, was tingling.
“Before we order, there are two things I need to tell you,” he said, his tone as serious as his eyes were hypnotic.
She could lose herself in those dark depths, she thought before playing his words back.
Darby’s smile faded. Tell her things? Well, that was never good.
“First, I think you’re one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen. You remind me of a sexy pixie.”
“I knew I should have worn heels,” Darby murmured, trying not to be too charmed by the image his words invoked. But dammit, she’d taken a lot of hits about her stature over the years—this was the first that made her want to embrace it.
“It’s more about your look than your height. You’ve got that sharp, edgy, too-gorgeous-to-be-real thing going on.” His smile quirked, one brow arching in amusement. “Add in a hint of sass and a look that says you have a way with wicked, and there you go. Sexy pixie.”
“Mmm, I can do wicked,” Darby agreed, relaxing enough to reach across the table and slide her fingers over the back of his hand. “Or is that naughty? I have trouble telling the difference between the two.”
Ahh, there it was. Heat. Her pulse picked up a beat as she watched it flare in his eyes.
She might owe Grace a thank-you gift for putting sex in her head.
“You said two things,” she reminded him.
“Damn. Looking at you made me lose my train of thought.”
He shook his head as if trying to clear the fog. She liked that. Appreciated that he didn’t try to play cool or pretend he wasn’t affected. Who knew how sexy honesty could be?
“Okay, second thing.” He took a quick drink of his ice water before continuing. “I’m here for vacation. But when I’m not on, um, vacation, my career is intense. It demands all of my time, every ounce of my attention. I’m the kind of guy who makes workaholics look like slackers.”
“Your career is your life,” she murmured.
His arched brow said, “Exactly.”
Oh. Darby felt the tingle all the way down to her toes. See, she thought. Her mantra was sexy.
“You sound proud,” she said, appreciating every word. She’d heard plenty of people claim their career was priority. She’d come across quite a few workaholics, especially in her line of work.
But this was the first time she’d seen the same passion, the same at-the-cost-of-anything zeal in someone’s eyes that also drove her.
Oh, yeah. So sexy.
“I am proud,” he admitted. “Dedication is vital in my world. Because of mine, I’m damn good at what I do.”
His smile faded, something that looked like pain flashing in his eyes for a moment before his expression cleared. “Yeah. Damn good. But that doesn’t leave room in my life for anything else.”
And there it was, she realized as she felt a tiny ping in her heart. It was as if he knew the exact words to dissolve every single smidgen of her resistance.
Now, resistance-free, she felt a little giddy. And ready to dive into her first romantic vacation fling. With that in mind, Darby flashed a sassy smile then pursed her lips.
“Oh, no.” She heaved a deep sigh. “Does this mean you’re not planning to ask me to run off after dessert to get married so we can open a cute little bed-and-breakfast on the beach, where you’ll cook, and homeschool our eight children?”
“What are you doing while I’m slaving over stove and chalkboard?”
“Eight children,” she reminded him, her smile masking her bafflement at the idea of how much work that must be. Eight. Did anyone have that much love? Her mother hadn’t even had enough for two. But this was a game, she reminded herself. “Which means that I, of course, will be splitting my time between mommy duties and making sure I look hot and sexy in order to lure you into bed to work on number nine.”
“Does that lure include hot-oil body rubs, see-through nighties and the occasional role-playing game?”
“Of course.”
“Sounds tempting,” he decided with a long, slow smile so sexy that Darby felt its impact deep in her belly.
“Only one problem,” he confessed. “I’m a lousy cook.”
“Me, too.” She shrugged. “I guess there goes that dream.”
“It’s a good thing we found out now, before we got in too deep.”
Mmm, deep. God, a part of her wanted to give herself a good forehead smack to shake those sexy thoughts out of her mind. It wasn’t as if she was frigid—no matter what Paul said—but still, she’d never been one of those sex-obsessed women focused on the varied and satisfying ways to get off.
Yes, sitting here with Dominic, thoughts of sex were filling her mind. Sexual innuendos. Sexual positions, sexual pleasure. Oh, yeah. Pleasure.
“So now that we know we’re not destined for happy-ever-after?” she ventured, wanting to get herself back on track along with the conversation.
“Now I do the gentlemanly thing and tell you that as attracted as I am to you, all I can offer is this week.”
Darby’s pulse leaped with delight.
Talk about perfect. If she had ever thought there was anything to magic or intuition, Dominic’s words would have cemented her belief. But she was a pragmatist through and through.
So she took it as a sign, instead.
Paul thought she was too much of a control freak to ever let go, to ever just enjoy the moment without having to know every single detail. Well, look at her now. Here she was, proving exactly how wrong he was.
“Just this week? As in, no commitment, no expectation of more than a little vacation fun?” She leaned forward with narrowed eyes, angled her chin and arched one brow. “So basically, all you want is sex? A little vacation fling? Some naughty nooky with nothing on the side?”
“Is that a bad thing?” he asked, tipping back a chug of Scotch.
Both brows rose now. She’d made seasoned defense attorneys cry with that tone, but Dominic didn’t even blink.
“Actually, it’s an excellent thing,” Darby decided, sipping her own drink and wishing the froth was something stronger. “My life, my real life, gets intense. My career demands a lot of my attention, most of my focus. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”
She bit her lip, wishing that last sentence hadn’t sounded so defensive. Another reason to dive into this vacation fling, she decided. She would rock the hell out of work-life balance.
“You won’t hear any argument from me. I’m a big believer in giving one hundred ten, even one hundred twenty percent, to your career. As long as you’re happy and fulfilled, it’s all good.” His smile slipped a bit. “Barring anything that breaks the national, state or city laws, of course.”
“Well, that’s specific,” Darby said with a laugh. Not just the law, but all shades of the law.
“I believe in covering all contingencies.”
“I like that in a man.”
“Excellent.” He gestured for the waiter to pour the wine, waiting until the man left before lifting his glass. “Here’s to vacation mysteries and pleasurable fantasies.”
“I think I can drink to that,” she agreed, a little thrilled to realize that she could not only drink to it, but she also actually welcomed it.
“So what do you do when you’re not sipping frothy pink drinks in Hanalei?” he asked after they’d clicked and sipped.
“You had your two things, here are mine.” Mind made up, she leaned forward with a smile hopefully tempting enough to lure him into agreement. “First off, you’re a gorgeous man who is filling my head with thoughts and fantasies so detailed and erotic that I’m surprised I’m not blushing.”
“Is that a fact?” When he turned his wrist so their hands were palm-to-palm and gently rubbed his thumb over her pulse, even those thoughts blurred. Darby had to take a couple of deep breaths to pull them back into focus.
“Mmm, yes. That is a fact. So thing one is to assure you that despite bursting my beachside B-and-B bubble, the attraction is very mutual.”
“That’s good to know.” His smile shifted, his dark eyes narrowing with desire. “Since I plan on finding out a lot more about those fantasies of yours so we can play them out in exquisite detail.”
Oh, boy. She wanted a sip of ice water to cool her throat—or a gulp of wine to steady her nerves. But she forced herself to continue without either.
“Which brings me to the second thing.”
Talk about wicked. His smile shifted, sparking a curl of hot desire deep in her belly. The kind that made Darby want to press her thighs tight together to intensify, to build until the pleasure exploded.
“The second thing is that we agree that whether our time together is limited to dinner, to the night, or the entire week, that it’s only about here and now.” Afraid she was sounding like some goofy romantic in a sappy movie, Darby cleared her throat and continued. “Whatever time we spend together will be focused on the matter at hand with no sharing of personal details. Topics such as careers, job demands, educational specifics or anything work-related is off-limits.”
“Interesting.” He arched one brow. “Are you involved in anything illegal?”
Tempted to laugh, Darby shook her head.
“Immoral? Illicit?”
Immoral? Thinking of the thousands of lawyer jokes she’d heard over the years, Darby’s lips twitched again.
“There is nothing about my vocation that the United States government would frown on,” she said primly.
“So that’s it? No sharing home addresses or phone numbers, and no job talk?”
“Not even a hint.”
Considering, he leaned back in his seat while the waiter set salads lush with leafy greens, spears of fruit and a dusting of fried plantains in front of them.
“Any other personal details off-limits?” he asked as soon as the man was out of earshot.
“Last names,” she added, just for fun. She knew all it’d take was a visit to the front desk—probably even less for him—to get that information. But it added to that the mystery. “We stick with Darby and Dominic. Which would have been a great name for that B and B, by the way.”
“I can see the carved driftwood sign hanging over the door,” he agreed. “But since you’ve put the kibosh on that particular fantasy, I guess we’ll settle for the other one. A week of vacation pleasure. We’ll live in the moment, with no pressures and no expectations on either side. Except for pleasure. I have a lot of expectations when it comes to pleasure with you, Darby of no last name.”
His expression was easy, the look in his eyes promising that the pleasure he offered was more than anything she’d ever imagined. But there was something else there, Darby realized. She’d seen hints of it already, an intensity and guarded pain, that made her realize that while this little escape into fantasy was something she wanted, it was actually something Dominic needed.
A tickle in her belly joined the sexual tingles teasing her skin. Darby wasn’t sure what it meant. She recognized the attraction—the guy was gorgeous, after all. But there was something deeper pulling at her, tugging her heartstrings. Making her want to cuddle the man close and smooth away any pain. To give him a safe haven against the miseries she saw in his eyes.
Whoa.
Freak-out alert. Darby could feel her brain scrambling back from the concept of emotional anything.
Emotions led to feelings. Feelings led to pain. Pain led to debilitation. The kind that slayed hearts, destroyed families, ruined lives.
No can do.
No way.
No thanks.
Darby drew in a slow, deep breath, feeling as if she’d just backed away from a mental cliff on a windy day.
Emotions didn’t come into this, she assured herself. This thing, this week, it was all about the physical. Or, better yet, the fantasy.
“That’s exactly what I want,” she told Dominic, leaning forward take his hands in hers. “I want the fantasy. I want to lose myself in the pleasure of this gorgeous resort, this beautiful island and each other. I’d like to see what life is like outside of the world I usually live in.”
Dominic lifted both her hands to his lips, brushing a warm kiss over the knuckles of one, then the other. He smiled, his mouth still warming her skin.
“If it’s a fantasy you want, darling, it’s a fantasy I’ll give you. One you’ll never forget.”
Uh-oh.
Darby knew trouble when it was kissing her hand.
But this was vacation.
Her chance to prove that she had a life outside of work. A way to relax that she could actually enjoy.
So what if the guy was trouble?
Nobody was going to be hurt by this. They were both single, both free to enjoy themselves. And both interested, with a solid finish line already spelled out.
It was perfect.
For the first time in her life, she was ready to simply live in the moment. To grab on with both hands and ride it like a wild stallion, wringing every drop of pleasure there was to be had from it.
Talk about work-life balance.
Who knew it could feel so delicious.
