Minute by Minute. Jo Leigh

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СКАЧАТЬ back on the fountain, wished in no uncertain terms that the next few days would be filled with a lot more than frolicking in the sand and getting massages from strangers. He didn’t open his eyes until he heard the coin splash down.

      Meg seemed to think that was funny, which was okay with him. Damn, her laugh was great. But enough of wishing. He wanted to do the sign-up thing so he could take her to the bungalow.

      He bowed toward the door. “After you.”

      Tugging him by the shirt, she led the way, but they both slowed as they went inside. He’d heard about the decor here, and the lobby, more than anything else, told him the tales were true.

      The interior was huge and elegant. The furniture was mostly rattan, and a dozen huge plantation ceiling fans made it feel like outdoors. Between the couches were glass-topped tables, most of them with large tropical flower arrangements. Like the spa, the art was all Impressionist paintings, damn good ones. If they were prints, they were the best he’d ever seen. If they were real, he couldn’t imagine the kind of security they’d need.

      “I think that’s where we need to go.”

      She was pointing at the concierge desk, which had a big Activities banner across the front. A nice-looking woman on the phone smiled at them and held out a clipboard.

      Meg took it, and him, to a nearby couch. Alex sat, and then she sat. Close. Really close. Jesus, this was bad. This was really bad. He was way too aware of how much he wanted her, and it had been what, an hour? He could not go there. Not yet. There was time. Now if he could only convince his dick that it should chill.

      “Wow, this is a lot of stuff.”

      He looked at the list as she filled in their names. All major groups were included, from windsurfing to climbing a rock wall.

      “Jet Skis. Cool.”

      He could do Jet Skis. Anybody could do Jet Skis, right? “Great. Mark that one.”

      “And scuba, of course,” she said.

      “Uh, yeah. Sure.”

      Meg turned to him. “Are you certified?”

      “Not exactly, no.”

      “I see.”

      “I’ve watched reruns of Sea Hunt on Nick at Nite. Does that count?”

      She grinned.

      It wouldn’t do any good to be embarrassed. In fact, it was stupid, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted her to think he was the alpha male. All buff and strong and able to slay the woolly mammoth. Unfortunately, what he was really good at was conjugating verbs.

      “What else?” she asked.

      He looked down the list. “Volleyball?”

      “I haven’t played since high school, but I really liked it. Let’s do it.” Her comment was punctuated by an audible tummy gurgle. Meg blushed, squinted her eyes.

      “Okay, next on the tour will be food, yes?”

      “Probably a good thing. The last food I had was hours and hours ago.”

      “All right. Anything else you want to play?”

      She looked at him as if he was going to slap her hand away from the cookie jar. “Do I have to decide it all right now?”

      “No, you don’t. You don’t have to do a damn thing you don’t want to. Vacation, remember? All fun, all the time.”

      “Good. Let’s get fed, and then…” She hesitated.

      “Yes?”

      “Then you can take me to the bungalow.”

      MEG SAT AT THE LITTLE table, waiting for Alex to come back with their food. She’d ordered too much, but screw it, she was starving. Besides, everything smelled like heaven, and she was a fiend for fish tacos.

      She looked behind her. There he stood, chatting with some tall cowboy guy, looking very fine and a wee bit impatient.

      Meg was a lot of things, but dense wasn’t one of them. The vibes were there between her and Alex. Oh, yeah. And they definitely weren’t one-sided. She’d known back in L.A. that she was attracted to him, especially after seeing that one picture. But she’d had no idea she’d want him this much.

      Everything from his voice to the crinkle of his eyes when he smiled hit her where it counted. Yeah, it probably didn’t help that she hadn’t had sex since the Ice Age, but that wasn’t the only thing going on.

      The problem was that she had no clue what to do. Should she just pounce on him? Get the booty out of the way up front, and hope the spark built? While it was a fine idea, she wasn’t sure she could do it. It wasn’t her style. Not that she had an actual style, but boinking after an hour and a half wasn’t close. So how long was long enough? Four hours? Five?

      Of course, if she counted all the online time they’d shared, she’d actually known him a year, which by anyone’s standards was more than enough time.

      It just didn’t feel like a year.

      If they’d said the exact same words to each other over a computer, she’d have been relaxed and cool as a cucumber. In person, not so much.

      She wanted that comfort level back, and something told her it wasn’t going to happen in bed. It needed to happen when they were talking, going about the day. Then the bedroom thing would happen naturally. At least, that was her present theory. She reserved the right to change her mind whenever.

      She turned back around. He’d be here soon, bearing food and drink, which was good. More talk had to be a step in the right direction.

      In the meantime, she could look at the gorgeous view. The ocean wasn’t very far away. She had no sense of distance or direction, so she couldn’t say exactly how far, just that she could walk it in about five minutes. Alex had scored them a table right on the edge of the deck. She could almost forget that every other table was occupied with couples. Couples who touched. A lot. Kissing was also high on the agenda, with groping tailing by a hair.

      It made her discomfort with Alex more acute, and looking at the ocean the best alternative.

      God, it was stunning. She’d only seen pictures, and none of those had even hinted at how it would feel to actually be on that white sand, to smell that orgasmic scent. Even the breeze was something new. Slightly moist, a little salty, it lifted her hair and skimmed every available bare spot.

      It would feel luscious to be nude here. To feel it all over.

      A shadow on the table made her jump, and she turned to find Alex with a tray. She removed plates, napkins, forks, drinks. Then he put the tray away and came to sit next to her.

      “This looks incredible,” she said, pulling her plate close.

      He grabbed one of his tacos and bit into it with gusto.

      She grinned and took a bite of her own. When she’d swallowed, she said, “Ambrosial.”

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