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Darcy grasped a squat tangan-tangan tree for balance and wound her way down the moist dirt path. She kept the shore in sight as Max’s assistant had told her. Meanwhile, the jungle seemed never ending.
Guam offered no half measures in bombarding the senses, and she found herself luxuriating in every step of the walk. Twining vines and flowers caressed her bare arms. Vibrant magentas and crimsons enthralled her eyes with their vibrancy, painted amidst emerald leaves of the tropical jungle. Wind drifted an intoxicating swell of hibiscus and philodendron perfumes.
A rush of hedonistic pleasure surged into sensory overload from a simple stroll. Not a response at all like her usual practical self. She couldn’t help but wonder if the new awareness had something to do with a certain marine biologist with intriguing eyes and drop-dead awesome pecs.
Darcy cleared the palm trees into a thin patch of beach. A netted sea pen stretched across the lagoon. The gritty mix of coral and shells crunched beneath her tennis shoes. A dolphin arced through the glistening water below a low-slung coral ledge. Another finned back followed suit, but no trainer in sight.
Where was Max? She scanned the beach, past the reef ledge over to the tree line. A flash of indigo and neon yellow snagged her attention with hues not found in any of the flowers she’d seen on the island.
Unless they were patterned on a pair of dive shorts.
Max jogged toward her while trees rustled with movement behind him. A smile curved her lips. In a world full of military-issue drab olive, she found Max’s unconventional flamboyance an intriguing change. That rebel quality called to her. A free spirit like him would understand her own need for soaring independence. With him, she could be herself, really fly. A guy like Max wouldn’t smother her with overprotective urges.
With his every step, thick corded muscles rippled along his thighs. Damp hair matted his chest. Sunlight glinted an enticing call to her eyes straight down to his washboard abs. Sprinting across the beach, Max tugged a raspberry-red T-shirt on, over his head. Which offered a perfect excuse to transfer her attention to his face.
His blue-green eyes met hers, eyes as sharp as any diamond edge. A shiver rippled through her, a tingling awareness that made her sensual walk through the jungle pale.
She’d made a grave tactical error.
This guy wasn’t some ivory tower academic with minimal real-world experience. He wasn’t even a simple beach bum with a brain. Max Keagan was all man. Too much man. Especially for her.
Forget taking a stand. This might not be the wisest course of action. His eyes blazed with the experience of someone who’d lived more in thirty-some-odd years than most did in two lifetimes. Even if she had all the experience of Cleopatra andGunsmoke’s Miss Kitty compacted into her own ordinary self, she should think twice about the wisdom of finishing her trek up the path.
Not that Max was going to leave her any options. He closed the distance between them, blocking her view of the jungle. “Well, Lieutenant, what brings you here?”
“Just wanted to check out your new dolphin digs.” She edged back toward the trees. “But if it’s not a convenient time, I can go.” Not that she was in any great hurry to place that call to her father and have it out with him.
“No.” His fingers wrapped around her arm to stop her. “Now’s fine.” Max palmed the back of her waist and guided her in the opposite direction. She would have questioned his determination to redirect her steps, if she could have found words.
Thoughts fled. Sensations ruled. The heat of his splayed fingers steamed through her T-shirt. That piña colada scent saturated her senses, making her thirsty and so very hungry at the same time.
Her feet moved. Or at least they must have, since she found herself standing on a jagged coral ledge overlooking the lagoon. Max stopped beside her. His golden legs radiated heat that scorched the bare skin below her shorts.
From the corner of her eye, she studied him, her gaze lingering on the tattoo below his hacked-off sleeves. Nothing flashy or large. Just a simple diver-down symbol, a small red-and-white rectangle on his upper arm. Did tattooed skin feel different? Rougher, maybe? Her gaze traveled to the thin scar slicing beside it, disappearing into his shirt.
His biceps rippled the pattern as he lifted his hand, put two fingers in his mouth and whistled. Three sharp blasts.
Darcy jolted. Almost pitched off the ledge. Just as she regained her balance, the water exploded in front of her. One dolphin, then another arced through the air, landing with a splash.
A rusty chuckle slid from Max’s throat as he palmed her waist again. “Easy, now, Lieutenant.”
Beneath the clear water, the dolphins circled in perfect harmony until they stopped just shy of the ledge. Side by side, their heads popped above the water.
Max knelt. An elbow resting on his knee, he extended a hand. “Hi, there, girls.” He glanced up at Darcy. “I thought you’d like to meet them face-to-face.”
She crouched beside him, unable to resist this peek into his world, a world so different from her own. “I understand intellectually how fast they are. But seeing all that power unleashed firsthand. It’s just so…” She shrugged, picked at loose coral along the edge and flicked them into the water. “That probably sounds silly to you.”
“Not at all. The day you lose respect for their strength is the day someone gets hurt.”
Her gaze jerked to his face. Did he mean his words as a warning about himself, as well? One she should probably heed.
Each dolphin nudged his hand and received a stroke in turn. Those broad hands broadcast a similar restrained power. Magnetic strength. Darcy pushed aside her fears as well as thoughts of taking a stand.
Why not simply enjoy this moment with a man she found surprisingly as captivating as the prospect of a flight takeoff? “Which is which?”
He pointed left. “Lucy.” Then right. “Ethel.”
She stared at the pair of dolphins, both with gray-green backs fading into a white underbelly. “How do you tell them apart?”
