The
sunhaddroppedmuchlowerbythetimetheygotbacktothedocks,andawarmglowofpinksandturquoisewasslowlyspreadingacrosstheeveningsky.Itwasabsolutelybeautiful.Sandrastayedbehindtoenjoythetranquility of the seaastherestofthepassengersdisembarked. She closed her eyes, basking in the sounds ofseagulls echoing across thewater, the soft creaking of waves broke the stillness as they caressedthewoodenpillarsofthewalkway. She was relaxed and comfortable and yet oddly reenergized.“One
ofthemostbeautifulsightsI’veeverseen,”Creightonsaidsoftly,makingherawarethathewasstillsittingbesideher.She
noddedagain,drawingadeepbreath.Thisspecificmomentwasdefinitelyworthallthesacrificeshehadmadeinordertocomehere.WhenshelookedbacktowardCreighton,sheblushed,realizinghewaswatchingher.“Ruelle
needstocloseuptheshipforthenight,”hetoldhergently, an inviting smile caressing his lips as he took herhandinhis.The
touchofhishandonherbareskinsentasuddenshudderracingthroughherarmandintoherstomach,causingherhearttoskipabeat.Shelookedupintothosedark-blueeyesandsmiled.“Do
youhaveplansforsupper?”heaskedas they walked together down the wooden walkway and up the short path to the hotel.She
felt the warmth of his touch as it coursed through her arm and into her breast as he watched her intently.“I
don’thaveanythingspecialplanned.”“Would
youliketohavesupperwithme?”heaskedwithanotherdazzlingsmile that warmed her down to her toes.“I
wouldloveto,”shesaidsuddenly, glancing downward whensherealizedhoweagershesounded.“Great.
Doyoulikepasta?”heaskedastheywalkedintothelobbyofthehotel.“I
lovepasta,butIdon’teatitmuch.It’snotverygoodforthewaistline.”She bit her tongue as she tried to put a halt to the
malfunctioningfilterbetweenherbrainandhermouth. She looked upintothedarkeyes that traveled downher slender body and felt a strange tingling in her inner thighs, whenhiseyes began inspectingtheareaofdiscussion.“I
don’tthinkyouhavemuchtoworryabout.”His eyes seemed to take on a light of their own as his lips twitched into a seductive grin,
squeezingherhandandcausinghertobiteherbottomliptokeepfromgigglinglikeaschoolgirl. Pausing, he leaned into her, surprising her as he kissedhercheek, his touch sending currents of electricity across her skin.Hesmelledofseawaterandamasculinemuskinessthatwassoalien,soalluring,thatseveralnewsensationsbegantoawakendeep downinsideher.“Eight
o’clock.”He smiled at her with a raised brow as if waiting for an answer, but all she could do was
nod, a lump of anticipation blocking her vocal cords.Hissmilebrightenedashereleasedherhandandslowlywalkedawaytowardthelift.Shestoodthere in a dumbfounded trance, watchingforseveralmomentsbeforesherealizedshewasstandinginthemiddleofthelobbyalone.Shedrew a deep breath to calm her nerves and headedtowardthestairs on legs that felt like jelly. Herroomwasonthesecondfloor,soaliftreallywasn’tnecessary,andbesidesthat,shefeltlikesheneededalittleexercisetogettheanxietyragingthroughherveinsundercontrol.She
openedthedoor to her room,tossedthekeycardtothestandnexttoit,andpulledthedeadboltacrosstheframe.Theroomwassmall,butefficient, and decorated in dark orange and white. Therewasaqueen-sizedbed, a dark reddish-orange comforter and matching drapes,achestofdrawers,a flat screen television anda round tablewithtwochairsnearthelargeFrench-style doors that opened onto a private balcony.The
bathroomwasquitenicewiththespatuband separate showeragainst one wall of theroom, a doublesink in the center across from the door, a toiletandbidetagainst the opposite sidebehindahalfwalloffrostedglass. Itwasbyfarthebestthingabouttheroom,andshehadusedtheluxurioustubtwicesofar.Withherkindleinhand,andaglassofwineontheledgenexttoher,thepulsatingbubbleseasilyrelaxedthejetlagfromherbackandlegs.Shefeltlikeaqueenandrelishedeverysecondshespentintheporcelainbowl.The
clockonthebedsidetablereadfivefifteenindark-rednumbers.ShehadenoughtimetotakeaquicktubbeforeherdatewithCreighton.Herdate!GoodLord,shecouldn’tbelieveshewasgoingoutwithamanshehadonlyjustmet, and the anxiety began to raise its head again.Shewonderedwhathersister,Cathy,wouldsayabouthergoingtodinnerwithaveryhandsomemanshehadknownforlessthansixhours.Withawearysmile,sheknewexactlywhatCathywouldsay.“Good
foryou,‘bouttime,don’tforgettowearunderwear.It’sthetakingthemoffpartthat’smostexciting.”Her
sisterwasthefunone,shethoughtasshegatheredtogethertheitemssheneededforherbath.Cathywastheoutgoingandgoingoutone, the one who had beenonmoredatesthanthenumberofbooksSandrahadread,andthatwasalot.CathyhatedstayinghomewhereSandrapreferredsilenceandsolitude,curleduponcoldnights - and hotonesforthatmatter - withaglassofwine,agoodbookandsoftclassicalmusicinthebackground.That’sprobablywhysherarelydated. Herexpectationsweretoohighforanymantomeetthem.Sandra wanted
thehandsomeheroshehadalwaysreadabout,theknightinshiningarmor,theruggedandunpredictableroguewhostoletheheroine’sheart andseducedheruntilshewasmindlessandsatiatedfromthelongsessionsofpassionandsex.That’sthetypeofmanshewaslookingfor,notacountryboywhoseonlyinterestwasplayingbackseatbingo,oraquickrollinthehay.Shewaslookingfortheadventuroustype,handsomebeyondwords,agentleinstructor,thetypethatcoulddothingslikescubadivingonthespurofthemoment and eat pasta with a strange girl from another country.She
waslookingfor….CreightonAshford.The aroma of lilacs drifted about the small confines of the bathroom as she stood at the sink, blow drying her hair. Sandra pulled the brush through her long red-brown strands, making certain the wave and curl was flat and obeying. Her hair lay softly down the middle of her back as she looked in the mirror at her reflection, smiling at the woman who stared back at her. She loved the tanned color of her face, neck and shoulders above the towel wrapped snugly around her bust, and how it made her bright green eyes seem to shine like emeralds. She may have to keep going to the tanning booth once she returned home. Regardless of the “C” word warnings.The sweet sounds of Jackie Evancho played on her iPod while she finished getting ready. The gentle voice and soft music made it much easier to concentrate on her task. She retrieved the small bag of cosmetics from the chest of drawers and applied a little mascara to her unusually long lashes, batting her eyes playfully at the green-eyed image
Maybe he was in the arms of that very attractive waitress from the beach. Damn it! She wouldn’t have taken so much time getting ready if she had known he wasn’t serious. It would be less embarrassing if she were in jeans rather than a dress. At least she would be able to hold her head up high and feel comfortable doing it. She felt like a stupid country hick, debating on whether to go down to the lobby or not. She looked back at the clock and realized with a start that she was late. It was three minutes after eight.With a deep sigh, Sandra rechecked her clutch purse, slipped her room key card into it and smoothed her hand over her dress and hair. She was ready, for whatever the night should bring. As she stepped out of the door, she heard her mother’s sweet voice echoing through her memory.Be proud of who you are, sweetheart, and what you are. It doesn’t matter where a person comes from that makes them worthy of your affection. It’s what’s inside that matters.Sandra ignored the lif
“Here’s to getting to know each other much, much better,” he said, gently placing the glass to his lips, his eyes remained focused on her face, the cool liquid slowly slipping across his tongue. She took a quick sip of her drink and wrinkled her nose at the tiny bubbles that tickled her upper lip. It was very good, sweet and cool and she was certain, especially after looking at this vehicle, it cost much more than anything she had ever had. She cleared her throat softly, trying to refocus her attention on their surroundings rather than the man next to her.“You said you loved pasta but didn’t eat it often. I hope you don’t mind that we’re having Italian for supper,” he said, looking at her speculatively as he reached for a remote in a hidden drawer under the table, then turned on the stereo and tuned into the soft sounds of a jazz saxophone. “I figure we can work it off tomorrow, that is if you’re interested in seeing me again after tonight.”“That would depend on how the evening end
He stepped aside and allowed her to walk ahead of him and onto the yacht, through a canopy covered walkway. The first thought that came to her mind was not of her safety, for there was nothing in Creighton’s words or mannerism that made her worry about him or his plans for the evening, but rather her concerns were of her shoes. If they were going to walk the decks of a yacht, she really shouldn’t be doing it in four-inch heels.Creighton stepped up behind her, and as if reading her mind, slipped a large warm arm around her slender waist to steady her, then led her across the exterior deck and into what appeared to be a parlor. A middle-aged man in a black and white Steward’s uniform stood before the wet bar, nodding at them as they entered. The sounds of the piano she had heard were coming from small round speakers in the walls of the room, while several candles burned in the windowsills and on the tables, illuminating the room in a romantic glow. The floor was covered in a soft short
Sandra couldn’t think, but then she really didn’t want to as his tongue slowly began to trace the outline of her bottom lip before he gently tugged it between his teeth, sucking on the tender flesh. She moaned into his kiss, her back arched toward him while his very skillful tongue slipped effortlessly into her wine sweetened mouth, caressing, teasing and tasting her at once. She could feel the result their kiss had on him, when his hand holding hers pulled her tightly against his hips, holding her securely in his embrace. His tongue played and teased with hers until she found the courage to imitate his actions, her heart pounding wildly within her chest. A warmth she had never experienced before began to spread through her lower regions, making her feel dizzy and wanton. Creighton increased the pressure against her lips, deepening his assault on her mouth, his tongue eagerly battling with hers. Her head was swimming, the smoldering fire of need began to turn her blood into lava, warm
The alarm on the bedside table began to beep much louder than it had seemed the day before. Sandra reached over and shut it off, her head buried under her pillow as she stretched her arms above her head and groaned. Memories of last night began to filter through her mind and she smiled happily, reliving them for the millionth time since returning to her hotel room. Creighton was a thousand dreams come true, a true gentleman, the magnificent lover she had always read about, fantasized about, always dreamed of meeting. They ate the most delicious supper of pasta e fagioli and linguini with clam sauce. They lounged in plush cushioned chairs on the upper deck, sipping double caramel cappuccinos, while enjoying a soft piano concerto that echoed through the ship from the expensive stereo system. Creighton returned her to the hotel shortly after three o’clock this morning, kissed her gently on the cheek and made certain she was locked inside her room, before leaving with the promise of seein
“Très bien, merci,” Michelle said, unaware she had answered in French and quickly corrected the mistake with a blush. “Why are you here?”“I’m on vacation, er, holiday. It’s a lovely place. Are you staying here at the hotel?”“Oui, my boss owns this hotel. He is here as well. I'm sure he would like to see you again. I can arrange a time to meet with you, if you would like?”“Yes, thank you. That would be nice.” Lying was becoming a habit, she scolded herself, but quickly thought that meeting this boss may help Cathy and the mayor somehow. “Maybe tomorrow, I have plans until then.”“Good, yes, I will call him and let you know. It was nice seeing you again. You look great, by the way. You’ve lost weight, I think.” Sandra smiled at the woman’s observation.“I have, thank you. Well, I have to go. I’ll see you tomorrow, just leave a message where and when your boss can meet with me with the front desk.”“I will and have a good day.” Sandra walked away quickly, the smile remaining on her l
“Hi, sorry I’m running late,” she said shyly. Creighton’s smile increased, and he shook his head.“Not a problem. I don’t mind waiting for such a lovely lady. Did you find what you were looking for?” Her throat was suddenly dry as she looked in those dark-blue eyes.“Um, not really. I needed a pair of jeans, but I did find some very nice pants, thanks to the clerk.”“Jeans, eh?” he said and turned to the woman, speaking to her in French. The clerk smiled, replying in her native language and walked into the back of the store again.“What did you say to her?” Sandra asked suspiciously.“I told her you were looking for a pair of jeans. She couldn’t understand what you wanted. Her English isn’t very good. They usually don’t keep the jeans on the rack, but rather in the back room. They have them, but the French are very proud of their fashion designers and don’t usually display simple clothing.”“Oh,” was about all she could think of saying.Her thoughts were distracted when the young wo