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At the end of an hour, she collapsed into a nearby chair, her face flushed, her feet aching, and her imagination still tripping the light fantastic.
He crouched next to her as she puffed at damp hair strands falling over her face, knowing she must look a hot, rumpled mess yet a small part of her feeling like that dance champion she’d imagined.
“You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?”
“Why? Because I only managed to break all the toes on your right foot and not your left?”
He laughed. “You’ll be pleased to know my toes are fine. Better than fine, considering I had to do some fancy footwork out there to keep up with you once you got going.”
There was a reason he was in PR. He probably laid it on this thick for countless other gullible females every cruise.
“Yeah, well, I told you I was good at the start.” His eyebrows shot up, as he probably relived every clumsy stumble she’d made initially and she smiled. “And you’re not such a bad teacher once you concentrate on the task at hand and tone down the charm.”
“Thanks. I think.” He stood, stretched, and she quickly averted her gaze from the sliver of tanned abs visible between his polo shirt and shorts. “See you tonight at dinner?”
His smile read pure invitation. If he’d asked her a few hours ago she would’ve sent him a short, sharp RSVP in the negative but after the enlivening hour she’d just spent thanks to him, she found herself nodding.
“Uh-huh.”
“Right-o, see you then.”
She fanned her cheeks as he walked away, wondering if it was the exercise, the exhilaration of feeling graceful for the first time in her life, or being wrapped in his muscular arms that made her hot and bothered.
In reality, she should be happy, ecstatic even. She’d tried something new today and had given her flagging confidence a much needed lift. Her sense of achievement was immense and she owed it to one guy.
After experiencing the rush of feeling graceful for the first time in her life, she wondered how much more he could boost her confidence if she didn’t try so hard to fend him off?
ChapterThree
While Zac had impressed Lana with his sensitivity during dance class yesterday, he ruined it by slipping into full flirting mode over dinner last night. Her fledgling confidence hadn’t lasted as she’d clammed up, grunted monosyllabic answers, and done her best to ignore the persistent attentions of a suave sailor with smooth moves and slick words.
She hated that it was a game to him because of a challenge she’d issued in a rash moment. Her inherent shyness was a bane she lived with every day; it affected her professionally, socially and romantically, yet he seemed to view it as something she could shrug off if he teased her enough.
He was really starting to get to her and thankfully, the ship had docked at Noumea today and she wouldn’t waste another minute thinking about him. Instead, she explored the French-inspired capital of New Caledonia with its tree-lined boulevards flanked by trendy boutiques and cafés, enjoying every minute.
She savored the aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingling with tropical flowers, she scoffed melt-in-the-mouth flaky croissants, and she scoured the shops, something she never did back home. When she shopped it was for necessity rather than a burning need for retail therapy—no matter how many times Beth dragged her from one boutique to another trying to make her see otherwise.
Yet here, with the balmy breeze ruffling her ponytail and the tempting shopfronts laid out like sparkling jewels in the sun, she couldn’t help but browse. Entering a small boutique, she meandered through the aisles crammed with clothes. Her hands drifted over soft silky sarongs and short strappy summer dresses before lingering over the swimwear. The only swimsuit she’d brought on this trip was an old black one piece cut high in the front, the one she used if she swam at home as part of a workout.
So why was she picking up a cerise bikini, the hot pink colour the exact shade her cheeks would be if she ever had the guts to wear something so revealing?
She put it down and eyed off some straw hats, before her gaze settled on the bikini again, drawn to it, mesmerised by its newness, its brightness, and its blinding contrast to everything she owned in her wardrobe.
Glancing down at her worn black flip-flops, khaki shorts, and well-washed grey T shirt, she hovered over the bikini, sorely tempted. Just looking at it gave her the same buzz she’d had when traipsing the dance floor in Zac’s arms, the feeling she could be more assertive if she set her mind to it.
Spurred on by an eagerness to recreate that feeling, she snatched it up and headed for the counter before she changed her mind.
After thrusting the bikini at the young guy behind the counter, she ducked her head on the pretext of searching for her purse in her straw carry-all, hating how her cheeks burned when making a simple, everyday purchase for most women. She rummaged around, waiting for him to ring it up, unprepared for the small puff of perfume in the vicinity of her right ear.
“This fragrance will be perfect for mademoiselle.”
She shook her head, ready to tell the sales assistant she wasn’t interested, when an intoxicating blend of light floral tones mingling with subtle coconut drifted over her and she inhaled, savoring the heady scent, feeling surprisingly feminine with one small squirt.
She never wore perfume, had never owned a bottle in her life, but when the young guy stared at her with soulful, chocolate-brown eyes and insisted again it was perfect for her in a divine French accent, she found herself handing over her credit card and being handed back a duty free bag with two purchases she’d never dreamed of buying let alone using.
But for those few minutes when she’d watched him wrap the bikini and the perfume, she’d stood a little taller, felt a little braver, like she could be the type of woman who wasn’t passed over for an amazing trip to Egypt as the museum’s spokesperson just because she wasn’t articulate or outgoing enough.
However, her flash of spirit didn’t last as she strolled back to the ship, the perfume box banging against her leg, a constant reminder to its presence and she couldn’t help but feel a fool. Since when did she wear perfume let alone go for something so…so…out there?Sex on the Beachwas for girls not short on confidence, girls who’d have the guts to live up to the perfume’s promise, girls who’d have the bravado to match wits with sailors relentless in their pursuit to prove a point.
