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“Hi.”
Why was it every time he caught her unawares her ability to respond coherently vanished as fast as her resistance?
She lowered her gaze, taking in his polished dress shoes, long legs in formal black trousers, and white jacket ending just below the waist. Handsome personified.
“How did the class go?”
“Great.” If she discounted obsessing over inanimate fitness equipment and how they reminded her of him.
“Just wanted to let you know I won’t make dinner tonight. Business calls, but maybe we can catch up later?” He appeared oddly vulnerable and it made her like him more. “The ship sails at ten and it’s a magical sight as we pull away from dock, so how about we meet under the Bridge then?”
She hesitated. Was spending more time with him wise when he’d said he wanted to get to know her better despite her resistance? Giving him the opportunity to chip away at her emotional barriers even more, to the point they could disintegrate once and for all?
Maybe it was the wariness he glimpsed in her eyes, maybe the hint of uncertainty tugging at her mouth, but he stepped forward and touched her hand.
“Admit it. You know you’ll miss me at dinner. This way, I’m trying to make up for lost time.”
She laughed as he’d intended, his charismatic smile disarming her quicker than she could say land ahoy. “Okay. I need to sharpen up a few barbs.”
He squeezed her hand before releasing it. “Great. I’ll see you there just before ten.”
She watched him walk away, admiring his butt, her head filled with possibilities, her heart filled with foreboding.
How could their fleeting relationship end well?
* * *
“Hello, sailor.”
Zac straightened from where he’d been leaning on a railing, a poster boy for gorgeous nautical silhouetted against the Bridge, an appreciative gleam in his eyes. A misplaced gleam considering she’d worn a boring black calf-length skirt and an olive shell top which had seen better days.
“Glad you made it,” he said.
“Didn’t think I would, huh?”
“I had my doubts considering it’s probably past your bed time.”
She chuckled and waggled a finger at him. “Hey, I’m supposed to be the one practising barbs, not you.”
“Maybe we can practice together?” His voice lowered as he wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, and she shook her head, unable to keep a smile off her face.
“You’re hopeless.”
“It’s your fault.” He sniffed the air like a hound, coming closer, too close, almost nuzzling her neck. “You’re wearing that damn perfume again. Any wonder I’m bamboozled. Didn’t I warn you that stuff was dangerous?”
“It’s the only perfume I own.”
Maybe she could blame the perfume for her gradual melting toward him? Ever since she’d worn it, her resistance had slowly but surely unravelled.
His low, sexy chuckle had her clutching the rail for support, all too aware her collapsing resolve had little to do with the fragrance and more to do with the charming man staring at her with desire in his eyes.
“Well, if you keep wearing it, you’re definitely heading for a whole lot of trouble.”
Heat flushed her cheeks and she gripped the rail so hard her knuckles stood out. “Oooh, I’m scared.”
“You should be.”
For one, crazy loaded second as he leaned toward her, she almost welcomed the danger of having a guy like him interested in her.
