skin and their sex. Wanting to touch him, she struggled against the hands holding her captive, but Rand held fast.
His back arched. He found her mouth for one brief, voracious, breath-stealing kiss and then his mouth grazed her jaw. He nipped her earlobe, her neck. Each gentle love bite shot bolts of desire straight to her core, arousing her more than she’d ever thought possible. She nuzzled his temple, his brow.
“Rand, please,” she begged and struggled to free her hands. She needed to hold him, to pleasure him the way he did her, to show him how good this was. How good they were. Together. This wasn’t just sex. It was tenderness and sharing.
He answered by shifting both of her hands to one of his. His weight held her in place as his other hand shifted to her breast. He buffed her distended flesh with his thumb, sparking a response deep inside her, and then he bisected her breasts, her belly and found her center. He plied her with precision until her breaths came in pants and her muscles knotted. Orgasm whipped through her once more, causing her body to spasm and his name to explode from her lips.
He muffled his answering growl against her neck, sending the vibration straight down her spine. And then he stilled above her except for the bellows of his chest pressing and withdrawing from hers. The cabin fell silent except for their gasping breaths and the thunder of her pulse in her ears.
He released her hands, but before she could wrap her arms around him he slid to her side and rolled onto his back, throwing a forearm across his face.
Satisfaction engulfed her. This was what they used to share. This is what she’d missed when he said goodbye. This is why she couldn’t sleep with Everett.
Because she still loved Rand.
She twisted to her side and laid a palm on his sweat-slick chest over the whorls of hair covering his racing heart, then she leaned in to press a kiss to his skin.
He stiffened and bolted upright, dodging her lips and dislodging her hand. He rose and headed for the bathroom. The door closed and the lock clicked, dimming her rosy glow. The shower turned on and her euphoria sank like an anchor.
That was not how she’d wanted their evening to end.
She may have taken a giant step forward in having him want to make love to her, but she’d taken two steps back. He’d literally locked her out.
Fun for one just didn’t have the same kick as sharing new experiences.
Tara turned in her snorkeling gear, gathered her towel and beach bag and trudged barefoot through the sand between the cabanas selling drinks, souvenirs and beach supplies toward the barbecue area of Crescent Key, Kincaid Cruise Line’s tiny private island and the cruise’s first stop.
She would have enjoyed exploring the brightly colored reef and fish so much more with Rand by her side. But he’d been gone when she’d awoken this morning. After years of listening for her mother, Tara had considered herself a light sleeper, but apparently she wasn’t easily roused after two off-the-Richter-scale orgasms. She’d never heard Rand get up or leave.
“Hey, are you solo?” a blond guy about Tara’s age called out as he jogged up beside her. He was good-looking in a toothy, preppy kind of way.
“Yes.” Not by choice.
“Me, too. I’m Joe. I was in your snorkeling group.”
She hadn’t noticed. “I’m Tara.”
“Where are you headed next?”
“Lunch and then the Jet Ski Zone. I have a couple of hours before my lesson.”
“Same here. Mind if I tag along?”
She wished Rand would look at her with the kind of interest Joe showed. But Rand might not even see the new bikini she’d bought with him in mind. And she didn’t want to give Joe the wrong idea. “I don’t think—”
He held up his hands and backed a step. “Not putting the moves on you or anything. Unless you’re interested, that is. It’s just that this place is really geared for couples, and my travel buddies have split. We were supposed to meet for lunch, but I haven’t spotted them yet.”
“I’m with someone. He stayed onboard.” And then an idea hit her. “Travel buddies?”
“There are six of us in three cabins. We were fraternity brothers at UVA, and we’ve met every summer since graduation for a cruise vacation. This is our fifth.” He nodded to someone behind her. Tara turned and saw another guy about the same age headed in their direction. He wore the same kind of overlong swim trunks—board shorts, she’d heard them called.
“Is that one of your friends?”
“Yeah.”
“This is my first cruise, and I have a lot to learn. Would you and your friends be willing to answer a few questions over lunch? I’ll buy the first round of drinks.”
“You’ve got yourself a deal, Tara.”
Tara had lied. But the question was, when?
Rand strode through the sand, searching left and right for Tara. Had she lied when she said she loved him? Or lied when she said she didn’t?
Because last night she’d made love like she meant it.
He hadn’t seen it in her eyes. But he’d felt it in her touch. Tasted it in her kiss. Heard it in the way she sighed his name.
Like she had before she’d betrayed him.
Was it a betrayal?
She’d said she loved him.
But you dumped her and told her to find another man—one who could give her what she needed.
But not his father. Anybody but him. She’d known how much Everett Kincaid liked to stick it to his oldest son.
Or had she? Rand’s gait faltered. He couldn’t remember discussing his strained relationship with his father with her.
You’re making excuses for her.
Damn. Damn. Damn. She’d gotten to him. Again.
But if she was starting to care about him, then he had to nip those feelings in the bud. Before it was too late. He couldn’t afford to let Tara get close or convince herself she loved him, because he couldn’t live with another woman’s death or near-death on his conscience.
Cursing his weakness for Tara and his stupidity for craving her body and her company, he scanned the cabanas, beaches and tables. How hard could it be to find one curly-haired blonde on a small island with no roads and no exit other than the tender that had brought her over? Crescent Key had been named for its shape. KCL had posted different excursion sites in and around the island. If he followed the curve long enough he’d find Tara.
The hot sand seeped into his sandals and the sun toasted his bare back. He’d dressed in swim trunks—like a tourist—as camouflage, but it had been a long time since he’d been comfortable in such casual clothing. Five years, to be exact. He’d spent every day since leaving
