Riding the Waves. Tawny Weber

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СКАЧАТЬ moving through her body. So much for beating around the bush. Alex was the most direct, in-her-face man she’d ever met.

      It only made him sexier.

      “I thought that’s what we were doing.” Although clearly not as much as he, or she, for that matter, would like.

      “You know what I mean,” he said, brushing aside her socially correct reply.

      Dru bit her lip. Wasn’t this proof perfect that she shouldn’t try to socialize outside her milieu? Give her a brainiac, a science buff, even an amateur astronomer, she’d be fine. But a hunky guy with eyes like melted chocolate and a body worthy of a god? Throw in enough sexual tension to send a nun running for a cold shower, a misguided attempt at flirtation and what did you get? Her, feeling like a turned-on, embarrassed idiot with her pretty, floral wedge sandal stuck right there in her big mouth.

      Not sure what to do about the irritation suddenly overshadowing the desire he’d sparked in her body, Drucilla tapped her fingers on the table.

      “So, what?” she finally asked, figuring she’d blown it anyway so she might as well just be herself. “If a woman doesn’t drop at your feet the instant she meets you, she’s playing a game?”

      An appreciative look flashed in his dark eyes, but he kept his face straight.

      “Maybe not at my feet,” he teased. “But usually there’s a definite decision about whether she wants to pursue the possibility of getting better acquainted. As a rule, people know instantly if they’re interested or not. Whether they’ll choose to act on that interest is another thing, of course. And that’s where the game usually comes in.”

      Dru frowned. Not over his reference to his easy conquests. That was no surprise. But at his words. They were pretty deep for a surf instructor. Then she mentally smacked herself for making such a snobbish judgment call.

      “I assure you, my taking my time to decide on what I want isn’t a game,” she said, guilt over her thoughts making her tone more apologetic than she’d intended.

      His grin, fast and sexy, told her he was more than willing to take advantage of that opening.

      “What can I do to help you make up your mind?” he offered, leaning forward and putting his hand over hers as it rested on the glass table. Sparks flared. Hot, intense and almost overpowering. Energy, purely sexual, raced through her system. Her nipples beaded in instant response. If he could turn her on this easily, with just a look and a touch, what could he do to her body if she let him? And what the hell was she waiting for to find out?

      Dru tried to regulate her breathing. She could tell he knew damned well the effect he had on her. The question was, what effect did she have on him? And how could she make sure it was an even exchange? Although she sucked at flirting, she wasn’t totally insecure. But neither was she stupid. Alex was a gorgeous, charismatic man, he could have any woman he wanted. Since they had nothing in common, why was he hitting on her so hard?

      And could she handle it if she gave in to her body’s demands? If her flirtation skills were dismal, her sexual skills were even worse. The chances of humiliation were high. Was it worth it? She looked at Alex again and sighed. Oh, yeah. She was pretty sure it was.

      Pretty sure. But not positive. Needing time to think it through, she took her napkin from her lap and set it on the table.

      “You’re leaving?” The disappointment in his words was echoed in his expression. His eyes clearly said she’d let him down. Whether it was because he’d miss her or because she wasn’t playing those games he’d referred to, she wasn’t sure.

      “I have some things I need to take care of,” she said honestly—she considered thinking this through to be a very necessary something to take care of. “Since we’ve run into each other twice already in the eighteen hours I’ve been here, I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

      When she did, she planned on having all her thinking finished. One way or another, she promised herself as she murmured her goodbye and swung her tote bag over her shoulder, she’d be ready for action.

      ALEX WATCHED Drucilla walk away, her tidy plait of silvery hair swishing between her bare shoulder blades. Her refusal to play confused him. He’d learned his lesson young and well. Everyone, men and women, played. Hers must be a new game. One he hadn’t been dealt yet. He’d figure out the rules fast enough, he was sure. “Wipeout?”

      Alex quit his contemplation of Drucilla’s hips as she turned the corner back to her bungalow to glance at his friend. Juan was dressed in waiter’s whites, obviously filling in to help out his parents, who owned the hotel.

      “I’m still paddling,” Alex quipped with a shrug. He pushed away from the table and helped Juan gather the plates and debris. “You up for hitting some waves this afternoon?”

      Juan smirked at the change of subject, but he knew Alex well enough to know his friend didn’t brag about women. Not while pursuing them, not while doing them, not after kissing them goodbye when it was over. Alex’s momma had a saying—wherever he put his privates was meant to stay private.

      And Alex always listened to his momma.

      “We’re short staffed,” Juan said with a morose sigh as he glanced at the surfers already riding the waves.

      Alex made a sympathetic sound. There was a perfect example of why he played his life so carefully. Nothing shackled a guy faster than commitments. Not that Alex blew off his responsibilities or shirked favors. He’d been raised knowing his obligations. Three generations of excellence preceded him, and he knew better than to disappoint his family.

      Which was fine. He loved what he did. That was why his career was the only thing he allowed himself to commit to. And he’d arranged his life so that commitment still let him live exactly the way he wanted.

      “You up for teaching some surfer wannabes this afternoon?” Juan asked as he wiped the table clean, then moved his tray to the next one. “You’re covering for Manuel, right?”

      “From siesta to eight,” Alex confirmed. Juan’s cousin Manuel ran the Surf Shack and had gone to Cozumel for the week to celebrate his abuela’s hundredth birthday. He had a couple kids to take care of the shack, but nobody to give lessons while he was away. Since teaching was right up Alex’s alley, he’d offered to help out. On a limited basis.

      “And will you be offering private lessons to the pretty blonde?” Juan teased, as always trying to break through Alex’s typical reticence when it came to women.

      “Maybe,” Alex murmured. He caught a glimpse of electric blue and saw Drucilla making her way down the beach. A large beach bag partially concealed her vivid dress, and a huge, floppy hat covered her glorious hair.

      “I chatted with her when I was taking her order,” Juan continued, not noticing Alex’s attention shift. “She’s a smart lady. You’ll be able to talk to her about anything. Unlike that surf Betty you were with last time you were here. I think her IQ was smaller than her bra size.”

      Juan had a bias. He called any woman who competed with him on the waves a surf Betty. Alex frowned, trying to remember his last visit, eight months ago. Then it hit him. Pretty brunette, good surfer, total beach bunny.

      He grimaced. Yeah, she hadn’t been the brightest. But she’d been amazing on a surfboard. On and off the waves, he remembered СКАЧАТЬ