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A laughing, gasping water battle ensued. Celia was at a definite disadvantage, due to her smaller size and her unfamiliarity with rolling waves and shifting sand. But she held her own, she decided in satisfaction.
Taking advantage of a perfect opportunity, she hooked a foot behind Reed’s leg and tugged. He went down like a rock. But not before catching hold of her an
d dragging her with him.
They came up together, laughing, rolling in the waves, clinging to each other for balance.
And then the laughter faded.
Reed regained his footing slowly, his gaze locked with Celia’s.
Her eyelashes beaded with water, her hair streaming down her back, she became suddenly aware of the feel of his wet, slick skin beneath her palms. He was warm. Hard. Strong.
His tan extended over every inch she could see of him. Water clung to the light dusting of hair that spread across his chest and narrowed downward toward his swim trunks. His wet hair clung to his head, darkened to almost black. Without his glasses, his hazel eyes were bright and piercing. Almost as though they could see right into her.
Celia was mesmerized, unable to move if she’d wanted to. Waves shoved gently against her, but Reed held her steady. She felt safe. And yet, at the same time, she felt deliciously panicky, her pulse racing, her skin tingling, her breathing shallow and rapid.
It seemed inevitable that he was going to kiss her. If he didn’t, she thought she’d surely shatter from disappointment.
He didn’t disappoint her.
He drew her closer, giving her every opportunity to pull away. She didn’t even try. Her breasts brushed his chest, then he pulled her closer still, their wet bodies plastering together. The water lapped around Celia’s rib cage, hitting Reed just above his waist. If there were any crabs or stingrays or jellyfish—or even sharks—Celia no longer cared. For all she knew just then, she and Reed could have been standing on a deserted island.
His mouth was cool, wet, salty. His tongue was warm and seeking. Celia parted her lips and welcomed him inside.
She didn’t worry about who might be watching them. She didn’t think about Damien. She didn’t even ask herself what might happen next.
She simply enjoyed.
Reed drew away first. He sighed, kissed her nose, then lifted his head. “Celia?”
She was still drifting, her cheek resting now against his pounding heart. “Mmm?”
“Let’s have a taco.”
She blinked and frowned. “What?”
He loosened her arms from around his neck. “Lunch,” he said firmly, not quite meeting her eyes. “I’m starving.”
How could he possibly think about food? Here she was in his arms, a quivering bundle of soggy hormones, and Reed was talking tacos!
It took a moment for her to recover enough to appreciate his common sense. This was certainly not the time, or the place for necking, she reminded herself as she stumbled back toward the beach with him, steadied by his arm around her waist.
Maybe before the day ended, they would find the right time. And the right place.
She swallowed hard and concentrated on getting back to the beach umbrella without having her suddenly unsteady knees buckle beneath her.
They bought tacos and ate them on the beach. Celia tossed the trash into a convenient waste can, but kept the bag from the fast-food Mexican restaurant. “I want to find some shells to take home to my niece and nephew,” she told Reed. “Want to help me?”
He agreed. “How old are your niece and nephew?” he asked, his eyes on the sand at his feet as they strolled along the edge of the water.
Celia pounced on a promising-looking shell, then tossed it aside in disappointment when she discovered that it was broken on the bottom. “Paige is eight and Aaron’s six.”
Reed handed her a pretty little pink shell. “Do you spend much time with them?”
Celia admired the shell, wishing she knew more about the creature that had made it. “This is a pretty one. Paige will love it. And, yes, I do spend quite a bit of time with them. Actually, I spoil them terribly, according to Rachel. I just can’t resist buying them cute clothes and toys I know they’ll like. They always thank me so sweetly. Rachel fusses at me, but she doesn’t really mind. She’s such a good mother that she’s able to compensate for my indulgences. She keeps warning me that I’ll have to change my ways when I have kids of my own, or I’ll find myself with a houseful of greedy little monsters.”
“A houseful?” Reed asked with a smile. “Is that how many you’re planning?”
