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Unless she had great motivation?
Maybe she did, all wrapped up in six-foot-plus of sexy sailor?
Was Zac incentive enough for her to drop her guard and see where it led?
The thought had her bolting from the marquee for the safety of the deserted beach where she could quash daft thoughts like that before they blossomed and encouraged her to indulge in all kinds of crazy, uncharacteristic actions.
* * *
Zac madesmall talk with a couple from Alabama while his gaze riveted to Lana as she left the marquee.
He was an expert at multi-tasking—his job, hisrealjob, demanded it—so had no trouble nodding and laughing and responding to the couple while hiding a grimace at yet another hideous dress, this one in drab brown, and the way it hid Lana’s curves.
And she had them, man, did she have them. He’d seen them on full display this afternoon despite that neck-to-knee ensemble—okay, it hadn’t been that bad but those boring bathers were gruesome just the same—tantalizing curves that could give a guy ideas of how far he’d like to push this challenge despite every intention not to.
At least Lana had come. He’d had his doubts after the way he’d taunted her at the pool earlier. She was still nervous around him, something he couldn’t figure out considering she’d come alive in his arms in that dance class after she’d loosened up, and the way she’d started smiling at some of his jokes over dinner.
Socializing didn’t come naturally to her. He saw it in the fiddling fingers, the tense shoulders, the lowered gaze whenever his flirting got too heated. He should take pity on her and leave her alone.
An image of her in that wet, clinging, black one-piece sprang to mind again, instantly wiping his good intentions to keep his distance. The bathing suit hadn’t been remotely sexy but the woman in it—now, that was another story.
All afternoon he’d mentally rehearsed the reasons he shouldn’t push this thing between them: the ‘employees don’t fraternize with passengers’ policy he’d devised himself, the importance of focusing on the quest to catch their spy, the debt he owed Uncle Jimmy. All perfectly legitimate reasons to keep his distance and stop toying with her.
But he couldn’t get her out of his head. He’d never met anyone like her: fragile, shy, clumsy, yet infinitely endearing.
Simply, she captivated him.
It couldn’t be purely physical, what with the old-fashioned clothes that hid her body rather than enhancing it. And she rarely wore makeup, tied her hair in a ponytail most of the time, and wore no jewellery.
But that was what intrigued him the most: her apparent lack of artifice allowing the natural intelligent sparkle of her expressive eyes to shine through, the genuine smile on the rare occasion one of his funny barbs struck home.
Her acerbic wit attracted him, the guarantee she wouldn’t put up with any of his crap. He liked that, enough to know more, a lot more, and with curiosity egging him on, he bade goodbye to the couple and followed her.
The soft sand silenced his footsteps and he pulled up as Lana stopped at the ocean’s edge, rubbing her arms before wrapping them around her middle, a vulnerable gesture that had him wondering who or what had put the wary expression in her eyes he’d glimpsed on more than one occasion.
For someone her age—he’d pegged as mid-to-late-twenties—she was too serious, too withdrawn, and each time he’d seen caution creep into her striking hazel eyes he wanted to slay whatever demon had put it there.
Crazy, considering his demon slaying days for any woman were long gone. Magda had seen to that.
Lana’s posture screamed hands-off so what was he doing, disturbing her solitude? She wouldn’t be up for another bout of flirting, another bout of teasing when he knew it couldn’t lead anywhere. She’d made that clear.
He needed to leave her the hell alone, but before he took a step the breeze picked up and a waft of fragrance assailed his nostrils; he inhaled, savoring the tantalizing scent of frangipani with a hint of coconut. Pure ambrosia, piquant and addictive, and he shook his head to clear it.
He must’ve made a noise for she turned, pale moonlight casting alluring shadows over her face bathed in luminosity, her eyes wide and incandescent.
He’d never seen anything so stunning, the impact of her simple beauty hitting him like a blow to the solar plexus and, for an oxygen-starved moment, all he could do was stare.
“Sneaking up on me again?” The slight curve of her lips belied the hint of annoyance in her voice.
“You look like you could do with some company?”
“Maybe.”
“You sure?”
“Don’t sound so surprised. You’re not too bad for a persistent pain in the butt.”
He laughed, surprised she’d instigated a bit of light-hearted wordplay for the first time. “Be careful. That almost sounded like flattery and it might go straight to my head.”
