standing in the doorway and it was as if the temperature in the room rose ten degrees. He tried to look away, to ignore her, but she drew his gaze, like a riptide pulling him under.
Still, he managed to turn his back to her as she drew near. He contemplated signaling the bartender for another beer just as she put her hand on his shoulder, freezing him. “Come walk with me,” she said, the soft murmur of her voice cutting through the bar chatter.
The last thing he needed right now was to go walking off into the darkness with her. He swivelled to face her. “Let’s stay here,” he said. “I’ll buy you a drink.”
She glanced around the crowded bar, at the laughing couples with their sunburned faces and umbrella drinks. “No. I need to ask you something. In private.”
He shook his head. “That’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?
He shoved the glass aside, then let his gaze linger on her too long. She was wearing a little strapless dress made of some silky, clingy material, the hot pink-orange of a sunset. She crossed her arms, as if shielding herself from his gaze. “Why not?” she asked again.
“Because I’ve had a little too much to drink and you look way too good in that dress and I’m liable to do something that will get me slapped.”
Her laughter startled him. She reached out and took his hand. “Come on. Let’s walk.”
He didn’t resist, letting her lead him out of the bar, past the lighted swimming pool to the shadowy beach. At the edge of the sand, she slipped off her shoes and, picking up her sandals, took his hand and tugged him toward the edge of the water.
He slowed his pace to match hers, and studied her out of the corner of his eye. Moonlight—or the beers he’d had—softened her features, making her look younger, more vulnerable. “So what did you want to talk about?” he asked.
She wrapped her hand more securely around his, but avoided looking at him, focusing instead on the ocean. “You might not know this, but I’ve always admired you.”
A single barking laugh escaped him. “You have a hell of a way of showing it.”
She glanced at him. “I guess I deserve that. But it’s true. I’m envious of the way you insist on doing things your way, no matter what other people say. You aren’t afraid of my father. There aren’t many men he can’t intimidate.”
“You’re right. I didn’t know you felt that way.” He stopped, and pulled her around to face him. “Why are you telling me now?”
She raised her chin and looked him in the eye. He recognized both determination and fear in her gaze. The fear surprised him. Why would a woman who had everything be afraid of anything? “I want to ask a favor of you this weekend.”
“What is that?”
She wet her lips, a provocative, sensuous gesture he felt all the way to his groin. “I want you to pretend that I’m not the Glynna McCormick you think you know. That I’m not Gordon’s daughter.”
He raised his hand and traced the soft line of her jaw. “Then who are you?”
She cradled her head against his hand. “I’m just a woman. A woman who’s tired of doing what everyone expects of me. I want to spend this weekend doing what I want, getting reacquainted with part of myself I’ve put second for too long.”
He stilled, holding his breath. “And what do you want?”
“This.” She stood on tiptoe, and put her arms around his neck, pulling him to her. Her lips were soft against his, the kiss tentative at first, then more assured.
He resisted for the briefest moment, stunned, before instinct and desire took over and he gathered her closer. He shaped her body to his as he deepened the kiss, opening his mouth to taste her fully. She made a breathy, mewling sound that ripped away the last shred of his reserve. He forgot everything but how much he wanted her. Here. Now.
He cupped her bottom, pressing her close against him, savoring her heat against his growing erection. She hooked one leg around him, her gauzy skirt falling back to reveal the pale beauty of her inner thigh. He slid his hand up that silky expanse of flesh, toward the burning center where he wanted to bury himself.
She nipped at the corner of his mouth. “Let’s go back to the cottage,” she whispered.
The cottage. Like a cold wave splashing over them, the words reminded him of where they were. Why they were here. Who she was.
He pulled away from her, so suddenly that she almost fell. “This is insane,” he said.
“Yes, it’s insane.” She stared at him, out of breath. Flushed. Gorgeous. “That’s the whole point. I…I want us to spend this weekend doing all the things we can never do back home. Exploring those fantasies I’m supposed to be writing about.”
He took another step back, as if physical distance could break the spell she’d cast over him. “You mean you want us to have sex.”
She flushed more, but nodded. “Yes.”
“Why? Beyond the obvious reasons that we turn each other on?”
“I think…” She wet her lips again, almost sending him over the edge. “I think a weekend like this, totally indulging myself, will help me understand what it is I really want to do. I know this sounds crazy to someone like you, who’s always done exactly what you felt like, but I’ve been trying to make myself into the person I think I should be for so long I’m not sure I know anymore who I really am.”
“And you think a weekend screwing me will do it?” He was deliberately crude, hoping to shock them both back to their senses.
She flinched, but didn’t back down. “It’s the most radical thing I can think of, so yes.” She smiled. “And I think we’d both enjoy it, very much.”
Hell yes, he’d enjoy it. And it might even be fun to see the straitlaced ice princess thaw a little. “What happens when we get home?”
She held her hands up, fingers spread wide. “No strings. We go our own ways and no one knows this ever happened.”
A weekend of great sex with a gorgeous woman, no strings? “I’d be crazy to say no.”
“Then why don’t we get started?” She smiled and reached for his hand.
He took it and pulled her toward the path to the cottages, eager now. “It’s only fair to warn you.” He grinned at her. “I don’t intend to stop until the boat pulls up Sunday evening.”
4
BACK AT THE COTTAGE, Glynna busied herself lighting candles. The bravado that had led her to make her wild proposition was fading fast, now that she was alone with Jake in this intimate space.
The rustle of fabric against skin disturbed her thoughts. She whirled to see Jake pulling off his shirt. “Wh—what are you doing?” she stammered.
He unfastened the snap of his pants. “I don’t know about you, but I prefer to do these
