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He stood tall enough to see over the heads of the crowd, and it looked like she was heading back to her hotel. As fast as he could, he signed and smiled and then took off in the same direction.
It took guts to jump into a surf lesson on the same day she’d jumped into the ocean for the first time. Courage. He admired the hell out of her for it. The first time he’d hit the ocean, he cried like a baby when a wave knocked him over. Okay, so he’d barely come to his mom’s knee, but it took a damned long time before he let her lure him back down to the surf after that.
Of course then he’d taken to the sea like a fish, and his mom could never get him out of it. He’d forget his homework and chores and spend hours in the water. At first it was to be better than all his friends at surfing, but as he got older it became a means of escape.
In the distance, the translucent turquoise ocean called to him. He should leave Sophie alone. She probably had festival stuff to do, but he wanted her to join him in the waves. He wanted to wipe away her first experience and show her some fun.
Not his usual reaction when the water tugged.Loner, most of the guys on the circuit called him. Solitude suited him out there. He craved it, actually.
But for some reason he chose not to examine too closely—it wasn’t his responsibility to make sure Sophie liked the water—he was in the mood for company.
Her company.
He’d never met anyone like her. Sweet and innocent one minute and he’d swear to God ready for sin the next. Her blush turned him on, and when her lips took a joyful turn, his heart raced. Something only surfing had done before.
When he’d touched her bottom lip with his finger, an unexpected current of energy had made his skin hot. Seeing her flustered, then her tongue dart out, he’d had to stifle a groan. She had no clue how sexy she was.
A minute later, as he approached the check-in desk inside the lobby of the White Strand Inn, Tango nodded in greeting. Zane had no idea where the nickname came from or what Tango’s real name was, only that he’d played pro football and now owned the boutique hotel.
“Hey, brah,” Zane said, “you slumming it today?” A special guest must be arriving—otherwise he didn’t think Tango worked the front desk.
“I am now,” Tango said, his deep voice on par with his huge size. The guy could probably bench-press a truck.
“Funny.” Zane put his elbows on the polished wood desk.
“What brings you by?” Tango said.
“I’m here to see Sophie Birch. Can you tell me which room she’s in?”
“I can ring her room for you. Let her tell you where she’s at.” He smiled and nodded at a couple passing by.
“I’d like to surprise her,” spilled out of his mouth, shocking him. Why the hell did he want to surprise her? Was he hoping to catch her wrapped in the soft terry cloth robe Zane knew the hotel supplied and nothing else?
That would be affirmative.
Tango narrowed his eyes. Several silent seconds ticked by. “Far as I can tell, that girl’s a fine human being. You’re not planning to corrupt her, are you?”
He wanted to corrupt her over and over again, but he wouldn’t. “No, sir.”
More silence.
“Just want to take her to the beach.” Unless he counted making her blush again. Was that corruption?
“If she comes back like she did the last time, you’re eating sand.” “Menacing” pretty much described Tango’s glare. “Room 305.”
Zane pressed his hands on the counter and rose. “Thanks. I promise she’ll be in good hands.”
“You keep those hands to yourself.”
Huh, Sophie had herself a fan and watchdog. Good thing. Zane liked to think he could be trusted, but he’d lived for so long now in wolf’s clothing he wasn’t sure he knew how to begood.
He saluted Tango and took the stairs to the third floor. He needed to burn off some energy. Reaching her door, he paused mid-knock and dropped his arm. He never did second thoughts. What the hell was wrong with him?Get your shit together, Hollander. She’s just a girl.He knocked.
Sophie opened the door wearing the same T-shirt and skirt she’d had on at the burger competition, but her feet were bare and black-rimmed eyeglasses sat atop her nose. “Zane?”
“Hey. Sorry about losing you.”
“You didn’t lose me. I left.”
