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‘You didn’t like the food?’ she asked.
‘The food was great—but it was way too stuffy in there.’
He smiled at her, and the glint of white against his swarthy skin was a potent reminder of the boy. Wicked and reckless and hungry—for so much.
But was he hungry for her? In anything other than the most basic way?
He switched on the engine and the boat roared to life, kicking at the soft swell as he directed the boat away from the dock and into the water.
She glanced back at the fading lights of Bay Street, the wind pulling tendrils of hair out of her chignon as Dane handled the powerful boat with ease. And tried not to let the question torture her.
She mustn’t get ahead of herself—read too much into this night.
She was concentrating so hard on getting everything into perspective that she didn’t register that they weren’t returning to the resort until the boat slowed as it approached a beach on the opposite side of the bay. A cluster of fairy lights and the bass beat of music covered by the lilting rumble of laughter and conversation announced a bar in the distance.
Dane released the throttle and let the boat drift into a small wooden dock lit by torches. Jumping out, he secured the line.
‘Where are we?’ she asked accepting his outstretched hand as he hauled her off the boat.
‘An old hang-out of mine,’ he said as she stepped onto the worn uneven boards.
He tugged her into his arms. Awareness sizzled through her system, but alongside it was the brutal tug of something more. Something that made her feel young and carefree and cherished—something she had been certain she would never feel again.
‘I’m taking you dancing,’ he said.
‘You...? Really...?’ Her breath choked off in her throat, and the panicked leap of her heart was almost as scary as the thundering beat of her pulse.
Was this another coincidence? Like the name of the boat? Surely it had to be.
But the wonder of the only other time they’d been dancing echoed in her heart regardless. The dark shapes of the cars in the car park...the strains of a country and Western band coming from the bar where they’d been refused entry when they’d spotted Dane’s fake ID... Dane’s strong arms directing her movements as he’d shown her the intricate steps and counter-steps of a Texas line dance and they’d laughed together every time she stepped on his toes.
And the giddy rush of adoration as they eventually settled into a slow dance on the cracked asphalt.
She’d been so hopelessly in love with him then.
She tried to thrust the memory aside as he led her down the dock, and ignored the swoop of her heart as he swung her into his arms to cross the sand.
She let out a laugh, though, desperate to live in the moment. Was this fate, testing her resolve?
Surely it was just the Caribbean evening, the promise of dancing the night away with such a forceful, stimulating man again and all the hot sex that lay in their immediate future that was making her as giddy as a teenager.
Dane’s thoughts and feelings were still an enigma. And her thoughts and feelings had matured. She mustn’t invest too much until she knew more.
She clung on to her resolve as he held her close in the moonlight, igniting her senses as they bumped and ground together to the sound of the vintage reggae band.
But as he guided the boat back towards Paradise Island her heart battered her ribcage, and excitement burst inside her like a firework when he murmured, ‘I hope that made up for our wedding night.’
So he had remembered that treasured memory of dancing in the parking lot, too.
As they entered the suite he banded an arm round her waist and hauled her into his body.
‘That’s got to be the longest evening of my life.’
Breathing in the scent of salt and cedarwood soap which clung to him like a potent aphrodisiac, she spread her hands over his six-pack, felt his abs tense as arousal slammed into her system. The way it always did.
Everything s
eemed so right this time, so perfect.
