“Let’s say we both came here to have a week of wild, uninhibited sex…

“Hypothetically, of course,” Carly quickly added.

Rick nearly lost it. Wild? Uninhibited? Was that why she’d come to this resort? He shifted to hide his body’s eager reaction, and nodded.

“Okay, then…” Carly seemed remarkably calm. “Wouldn’t you want the whole thing to be anonymous?”

“Why?”

Her eyes widened. “Surely you wouldn’t want anyone who knew you to be around watching.”

He put up both his hands and shook his head. “Hey, I’m not into that.”

She shook her head and sighed. “You know what I mean. Look, this is my one week of freedom and I’m not going to blow it.”

“What do you mean? Don’t you think we would hit it off in bed?”

She eyed him warily when he shifted closer. “It’s not that. What part of anonymous don’t you understand? I’ve known you for years.”

Rick shook his head. She just didn’t get it. “What part of chemistry don’t you understand?” he asked, then grasped her chin and slanted his mouth over hers.

Dear Reader,

I’m writing this letter while sitting on a balcony surrounded by thousands of pine trees and quaking aspens, atop a mountain in central Utah. It’s midsummer and the temperature is about seventy-two degrees—a far cry from the hundred degrees it usually hits at my home in Las Vegas. Tonight it will be cold enough to light a fire in the fireplace.

No wonder I fell in love with this place the first time I came here. That was a year ago May, and within two months I’d bought a condo—a refuge from the summer heat.

At the bottom of the mountain is a sleepy little town of about two thousand people—a charming place that also managed to snag a piece of my heart. A wholesome place where a Harlequin heroine could have grown up. Of course I’ve changed the name to protect the innocent, but this little town isn’t too much unlike Oroville, the place Carly Saunders calls home. With that in mind, I started playing the “what if” game, and the result is in your hands.

I hope you enjoy my story.

Debbi Rawlins

Anything Goes…
Debbi Rawlins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

This is for Karl: Thank you for lighting up my life.

I love you.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Epilogue

1

“NICE BUNS. That one’s definitely an eight.”

“Would you keep your voice down?” Carly Saunders slipped on her sunglasses, despite that they’d just entered the hotel lobby, and carefully avoided looking at the young man in the red Speedo.

Her friend laughed. “He didn’t hear me. Besides, a guy doesn’t walk around like that and not want to be noticed. Hey, check out the one with the ponytail in the yellow trunks. Another eight, wouldn’t you say?”

Carly groaned. “Ginger, please do not make me regret coming on this vacation with you.”

“It was your idea— Oh, my God, over there by the elevators, the blond with the ring through his right nipple. Awesome pecs. The rest of him ain’t so bad either.”

Obviously having heard Ginger’s big mouth, the guy looked up from his magazine and smiled. Carly made an about-face and headed for the restroom they’d just passed. Ginger was going to have to check them into their room by herself.

Ginger was right—it had been Carly’s idea to come to Club Nirvana, but she’d had no idea Ginger could be so brazen. Back at school she’d been a quiet, serious student with little time for dating. But the minute she’d stepped off the plane and sniffed the balmy Caribbean air, it was as if an on switch had been flipped and she had transformed into a sex-crazed madwoman.

Sure, they’d done their share of eyeing the grad-school male population. Not that the pickings were all that great at Sizemore University. Of course she and Ginger weren’t exactly centerfold material either—Carly looked in the bathroom mirror and shuddered—especially not after the ten-hour flight from Salt Lake City.

She tried to flatten her spiked hair. What the heck had she been thinking getting her hair cut short last week? Changing hairstyles right before an important event was incredibly stupid.

She’d learned that when she’d foolishly dyed her hair red the day before undergraduate commencement. A few days before, Sam Black had asked her to the afterglow party following the ceremony, but after they’d all tossed their caps into the air, he’d taken one look at her rather burgundy-looking locks and she hadn’t seen him since.

No great loss. He was a nerd. Just like most of her other dates. Just like her, according to some. But for now, she wouldn’t think about anything but having fun and doing whatever she damn well pleased. After a week of abandon and bliss, of mindless anonymous sex, she’d return to her hometown and fulfill her promise to teach at Oroville’s new middle school, total enrolment: one hundred and thirty-seven students.

“I’ve been looking for you.” Ginger came up behind her, looked in the mirror and let out a shriek. “Why didn’t you tell me my hair looked like that?”

“Like what?”

Ginger sighed. “Okay, so it’s always frizzy, but you could’ve at least told me about this.” She plucked at a particularly stubborn auburn curl that had broken free of the French braid Carly had worked on for an hour.

“Your hair is curly, not frizzy, something for which women pay good money, so get over it.”

Ginger lowered her hand and stared at Carly. “What’s got your panties in a twist?”

“Do you have to gawk at every guy we pass?”

“I don’t gawk.”

“Yeah, right.” Carly turned back to the mirror. Maybe she should have gotten a few more golden highlights. Her hair still looked awfully drab, not really brown but not blond either.

“I was glancing. I don’t have time to gawk. There are way too many fine-looking men here to waste time ogling just one.” Ginger got out her lipstick and re-applied a coat to her already orange lips. “Do you think I should wear my pink sundress or the yellow sarong to dinner?”

Carly laughed. “We haven’t been here for five minutes and you’re worried about dinner wear?”

“This is a singles resort, n’est ce pas?”

Carly stuck her comb back into her purse, and didn’t reply. She figured the question was rhetorical.

“The travel agent told us that most of the guests arrive on Friday and generally stay for a week. Today is Friday.”

“And?” Carly said as they headed for the lobby.

“Tonight is crucial. Everyone will be sizing up everyone else and starting to move in and—never mind.” Ginger shrugged and walked out the door of the bathroom, steering toward the reception desk.

“What?”

“You don’t understand what it’s like to be the only girl in the senior class not to get asked to the prom.”

“Bull.”

Ginger stopped behind three women waiting in line to check in and turned to Carly with an arched brow. “You, too? No way.”

“And how about this one? Going stag to a party and standing around while all the other girls are being asked to dance. You try to shrink into the wall pattern while you’re praying that you’re not the last one.” Carly dug in her wallet for the confirmation number she’d tucked in with her blood-donor card. “And if you get really desperate,” she continued, “you pretend you have to go to the bathroom, and then leave before anyone realizes you’re gone. Assuming they ever do notice. Ah, here’s the number.” She slipped her wallet back into her purse, and then looked at Ginger, who stared back in surprise.

“I wouldn’t believe it except you sound like one who knows.”

“I’m flattered you think otherwise. But that’s the sorry truth. The only reason anyone from school would remember me at all is because our graduating class totaled sixty-three.” Not totally true. Actually, practically everyone in town knew who she was, but only because of her father.

Ginger laughed. “What’s wrong with those boys back in Oroville?”

“Apparently the same thing as the ones in Tucson.”

Ginger got serious. “I hope this week isn’t a bust. I’m using all but three hundred dollars of my savings for this trip.”

“I know. Me, too.” Carly mentally cringed at the dismal state of her own bank account. She’d be returning to her parents’ home, back to her old bedroom—she hoped without the white lace canopy bed. Expenses would be low…but the nights as exciting as dishwater.

“Next.”

The woman behind the desk motioned them forward. They’d been so busy talking they hadn’t noticed that the line had disappeared. Within minutes they’d registered, the bell staff had been notified to deliver their bags and they were in the elevator headed for the sixth floor.

Carly took a deep breath and told herself there was no reason to be nervous. She’d planned this trip for the past year. This was a necessary life experience. It would satisfy her curiosity, and in some ways, it would provide closure. If she ended up an old maid like her father’s two sisters, at least she’d have this trip to look back on.

This week there’d be no rules. No second-guessing. No worries. She’d bask in anonymity and have the most mind-blowing sex of her life.

THE BALLROOM LOOKED like Mardi Gras in June with red, yellow and blue balloons floating around the ceiling. Others were tied to the portable bars set up in each corner of the large room, already crowded with bodies, tanned and disgustingly well-toned bodies, more bare than clothed.

Mostly twenty-somethings, Carly guessed, the ratio of men to women thankfully pretty equal. Except the women here were all beautiful, or at least confident, she noted as a blonde wearing only a micro-mini sarong asked possibly the best-looking guy in a hundred miles to dance.

The band had just finished tuning up and started playing “Night Moves.” No one else was out on the dance floor yet. A few people sat at tables clustered in the back of the room, and the rest milled around the bars.

“What did I tell you?” There could be no doubt that Ginger was blatantly gawking at the passersby. And not just at the men. No discrimination here. The women wore the more mind-boggling outfits. Lots of bare midriffs and diamond-studded navels.

“Oh, my God.” Ginger straightened, throwing out her chest. “He’s coming this way. No, don’t look.”

Carly had started to follow her gaze, but instead kept her eyes trained on the stage.

“Okay, now. Look. Wait.” Ginger gave her a fake smile. “Do I have lipstick on my teeth?”

Sighing, Carly shook her head. Ginger was right. This was like high school all over again. The way everyone sized each other up made her crazy.

A tall guy with a ponytail and gold hoop earring approached, and she held her breath. He passed them and asked a blonde in a slinky neon-pink dress to dance.

“His loss,” Ginger whispered, and went back to scanning the crowd.

God, Carly hated this. Why did they have to have this meet-and-greet anyway? She shouldn’t have come. She should have made an excuse and stayed in the room. Surely she could meet someone on the beach, or at dinner, or maybe in the bar. This set-up was too reminiscent of her past failures.

“Wanna drink?” Ginger asked, her gaze drawn to a short brunette holding a thick orange fruity concoction topped with a cherry and pineapple wedge.

“More than life itself.” Carly tugged at the hem of her sundress. It hit mid-thigh, yet in here she looked modest. “I’ll get them. Vodka and tonic?”

“Nah, I want one of those frou-frou ones with a paper umbrella sticking out of it. And make it a double.”

Carly nodded, watching as people rapidly started to pair up. She wasn’t much of a drinker, but a double sounded good about now. She headed for the nearest bar while trying to figure out how many beads the drinks would cost her.

Their vacation package was all-inclusive, with food, drinks and entertainment costs covered. But as soon as they’d checked in, they were given three strings of colored beads each to be worn around their necks and used for payment. Why they had to exchange beads for services she had no idea. Probably some sort of marketing gimmick that went over her head.

At the first bar she tried, people were lined up five deep. No one seemed to mind the wait though. They all chatted and compared tan lines, or murmured comments about the bartender’s buns.

When she was finally close enough to get a look, she saw that all he wore was a red bow tie and a G-string. His partner, a blond woman who didn’t even look twenty-one, wore a skimpy flesh-colored bikini top with her G-string, close enough to her own skin tone that Carly took a second look.

The entire place was about sex. The predatory looks, the sultry music, the way both the employees and guests dressed. Even the drinks had suggestive names. It was kind of fun because she didn’t know anyone. Scary, too, though.

“I met you last year, didn’t I?”

The voice was close to her ear, and Carly slid a look at the man standing beside her. “Me?”

He grinned. “You were here last September only your hair was longer.” He made a slashing motion with his hand indicating a chin-length hairstyle.

“Sorry, wrong gal.”

He frowned. “You’re sure?”

“I think I’d remember being here before.”

His brown eyes sparkled with laughter. “I’m sure you would.”

The line moved and she edged closer to the bar, acutely aware that he’d moved up behind her. Close enough that his breath stirred her hair. He wasn’t really her type. A little too muscle-bound, but he had a terrific smile. And nice eyes.

She inched into a position where she could safely turn her head and said, “I take it you’re a repeat guest.”

“Third year in a row.” He already had a drink in his hand and he took a big swig. “Great beaches, free booze, beautiful women.” His gaze lowered insolently, and she fought a shiver. “What’s not to like about the place?”

The line moved again, giving her a graceful way out of the conversation. She gave him her back, hoping he’d take the hint that she wasn’t interested. Not even ten seconds passed when she heard him ask, “I met you here last year, right?”

She glanced back in time to see the woman behind him beam in answer. Sighing, Carly turned her attention back toward the bar.

This was what she wanted, she reminded herself. She’d purposely selected this resort because she knew it catered to singles. Heck, like everyone else here, she had every intention of getting laid this week. The affair would be anonymous, brief, and then she’d get on with her life. The guy behind her apparently had a similar agenda. He was just more open about it. Maybe she was being too picky.

It was finally her turn and she stepped up to the bar and ordered two mai tais with extra pineapple. She gave the bartender two purple beads in exchange, and then carried the drinks back to Ginger—who wasn’t there. Probably in the bathroom checking her teeth for lipstick.

Carly took a sip of her mai tai, wincing at its potency. Good thing she hadn’t ordered doubles. The fresh pineapple smelled heavenly and she was dying for a bite, but with both hands full, she’d be asking for trouble. She took another sip instead, feeling the stinging heat in her cheeks.

She hadn’t eaten anything since she’d left Salt Lake that morning and the alcohol was doing a number on her stomach. The pineapple wouldn’t be much but it would help the slight burning. If only Ginger would hurry and get back….

Carly spotted her on the dance floor. Under a spotlight, her red hair glistened as she danced to a Rod Stewart song. Her partner was a tall, long-haired guy Ginger had been eyeing earlier.

The song ended, and Carly felt annoyingly relieved. She was glad Ginger had been asked to dance, but she hated standing here by herself. The next song started and Ginger kept dancing. Sighing, Carly took another sip of her mai tai, wishing like crazy they’d grabbed something to eat as she felt the alcohol burn a path down to her stomach.

She glanced around for an empty table or somewhere to set down the drinks, and noticed a dark-haired guy staring at her. Not too tall, maybe a shade under six feet, with a wiry athletic build. She took another foolish sip and focused on the dance floor, trying to pretend she hadn’t noticed him.

Ginger had really gotten into the spirit of things. Plastered up against her partner, she wiggled and writhed until Carly couldn’t watch anymore. She finished her drink, clumsily bit the pineapple off the rim of her empty glass, and threw her head back to make sure she didn’t lose the slippery wedge. The fruit was a little tart, but she polished it off and then started on Ginger’s mai tai.

“Carly?”

She turned toward the masculine voice. It was him—the dark-haired guy who’d been staring.

He smiled. “Carly Saunders, right?”

Stunned, she nodded. “Do I know you?” She squinted at the prominent cleft in the center of his chin. Now that he was closer he did look familiar.

“You don’t remember?”

Slowly, she shook her head, wondering if this was another feeble come-on. She sure hoped so. She wasn’t supposed to know a soul here. Anonymity was the beauty of this vacation. A necessity, in fact.

He put a hand to his heart, laughter dancing in his hazel eyes. “After we spent two wonderful summers together? I’m deeply offended. Crushed, in fact. I’ll probably never be the same.”

“I think you have me mixed up with—” A flood of warm memories washed over her. “Rick?”

He grinned and held open his arms.

She could only stare. God, he’d filled out beautifully. His shoulders were so broad, his legs long and lean in his snug-fitting jeans. No wonder she hadn’t recognized him. Sadly, after a dozen or so years, she obviously looked the same.

“Damn, it’s good to see you. Come here.”

She shifted the drink to her left hand and awkwardly extended her right one.

Ignoring it, Rick slid his arms around her and lifted her off the floor. “I can’t believe it’s you.”

Carly tried to wiggle free. “For goodness sake, put me down.”

He did just that. Slowly. Letting her body slide down his. He stiffened suddenly, the look on his face suggesting he’d figured out that move wasn’t such a good idea. “Wow, kid, you’re all grown up.”

Carly touched the floor and immediately stepped back. “Enough that you can stop calling me kid.”

“Yeah.” He pushed a hand through his hair, looking a little bemused. “What’s it been, ten, eleven years?”

“More like twelve.” Amazing how suddenly and vividly she remembered that last day they’d spent together. They’d watched the beavers build a dam across the stream below his grandmother’s house.

Carly had reached a milestone the day before. She’d turned thirteen, become a young lady and convinced herself he’d finally return her adoration. She’d suffered her first broken heart that summer.

“I think I’d just had my sixteenth birthday that last vacation I spent at Gram’s.”

“That sounds about right.” Carly touched his arm. “I’m sorry about your grandmother. She was a nice lady and a terrific neighbor. My mom tells me everyone in town misses her.”

He shrugged. “She lived to eighty-seven in a place she loved. Can’t ask for more than that.”

“Sorry I missed the funeral. I was away at school and didn’t hear the news until after the fact.”

He shook his head. “I missed it, too. I was out of the country.” His restless gaze drifted toward the dance floor. “It’s noisy in here.”

“Yeah,” she said, torn. She wanted to suggest they go somewhere quiet and catch up. At the same time, she prayed she wouldn’t see him again for the rest of the week.

Darn it. She hadn’t wanted anyone to know she was here. Or know who she was. Too late. Still, it was great seeing Rick after all this time, and at least he had no more ties to Oroville. It wasn’t as if he’d go blab about her to anyone in town.

“I don’t really dance,” he said, inclining his head toward the dance floor. “I might shuffle around to a slow number once in a while.”

“No problem. I didn’t expect you to ask.” She shrugged. “If I wanted to dance, I would have asked you.”

The corners of his mouth lifted in a slow smile. “You haven’t changed.”

“Sure, I have.”

His gaze narrowed, and he studied her for a long awkward moment. “Come to think of it, this is about the last place I would have expected to find you.”

Heat crawled up her neck. “You plied me with enough pictures of these islands. And since this is the only resort here and the idea of pitching a tent didn’t cut it…”

“Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“What?” She grinned. All he’d talked about for the two summers was how he was going to be a famous archeologist some day. How he was going to travel to places that no modern man had ever been. “I wouldn’t have expected to find you here either. I thought you liked roughing it. Sleeping in a tent. Digging around in the dirt.”

“Yeah. Right.” He snorted, but seemed oddly annoyed, his gaze straying, his eyes restless. “Look, I gotta go but maybe we could meet for a drink or something later.”

“Sure.” Carly paused, not understanding what she’d said that was so wrong. She started to ask, but he quickly disappeared into the crowd before she could say boo.

Had his plans changed? Had he taken up another profession? No, he’d been far too passionate about archeology. Of course he’d been young, too young to etch anything in stone. Anyway, that would be no reason to be touchy.

“Who’s the hunk?” Ginger came from behind, fanning herself. “Damn, I’m hot. I hope that’s for me.”

Carly automatically passed her the mai tai, while continuing to stare into the crowd. “His name is Rick. Rick Baxter.”

“Whoa, you guys are on a last-name basis already. I thought that was a no-no.”

“I know him. I mean, we didn’t just meet tonight.”

“No joke? How bizarre.” Ginger took a huge sip and then used the damp cocktail napkin clinging to the bottom of the glass to wipe her neck. “You know him from school?”

Carly sighed. “No, from back home.”

“Good God, girlfriend, you have guys who look like that living in Oroville?”

“No, he doesn’t live there. He visited his grandmother for two summers. But that was over ten years ago.”

“Wow! Imagine running into him here.”

“He’s the one who told me about this place, or at least these islands.” Carly smiled remembering his enthusiasm. “He showed me stacks of snapshots he and his parents had taken. I knew then I’d come here someday.” She lost the smile. “I just didn’t expect to run into him.”

Ginger muttered a mild curse. “This doesn’t blow things for you, does it? I mean, are you gonna be worried that he’s watching you or something?”

She looked at Ginger and laughed, hysteria bubbling up inside her. Worried? She was terrified.

2

“THIS ISN’T GOING to work, girlfriend,” Ginger said around a yawn as she crawled into bed.

Carly had already snuggled into her own queen-size bed. She’d brushed her teeth but hadn’t washed her face. She’d regret it in the morning, but right now she didn’t have the energy. It had been one heck of a long night.

“I give up,” she said, her eyes closed and the covers up to her chin. she felt too tired to guess what her friend was talking about. “What isn’t going to work?”

“This vacation. The whole idea of doing whatever you damn well please. You were so nervous tonight I thought I’d have to pour a couple of dozen mai tais down your throat.”

“Maybe you should have,” Carly murmured. It was true. After seeing Rick, she had spent a good deal of time looking over her shoulder. Jumping at the sound of every male voice that got too close.

“What are you going to do about it?” Ginger turned off the lamp at her bedside.

Welcome darkness washed over Carly. “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you should talk to him. You know, level with him about what you’re doing here.”

Carly started to laugh and then rolled over onto her side before she choked. “Yeah, right.”

“I didn’t mean you should tell him everything. Just that your being here isn’t something you’d like broadcast.”

“I don’t have to worry about that. He has no reason to go to Oroville or to talk with anyone there. It’s just hard knowing he could be watching me move in on some guy.”

Ginger laughed. “I’d like to see that myself.”

“Go ahead and joke. Your vacation hasn’t been ruined.”

“Oh, God, Carly, I’m sorry. I know how long you’ve waited for this week. There’s got to be something we can do.”

It wasn’t as if Carly hadn’t been thinking about a solution nonstop. Inevitably she’d feel self-conscious just knowing he was at the resort. Always wondering if he was watching her. Wondering if he was disappointed in her. Sure, he’d stayed in Oroville for two summers but he didn’t understand the mentality of the residents. Or how it felt to be under a microscope as the town pastor’s daughter.

“Carly, you still awake?”

“Yep.”

“Did you and Rick ever sleep together?”

“Good grief, no. I was only thirteen the last time I saw him. I think I still believed the stork delivered me.”

“Bet you had a crush on him.”

“Well, yeah. He was the mysterious older man.”

They both laughed, and then Ginger asked, “So what are you going to do?”

“Excellent question.” Sighing, she took her frustration out by punching her pillow into shape, and then went back to staring at the ceiling. “Maybe I ought to seduce him.”

“There you go.”

“I was kidding.”

“Why? He’s hot.”

Carly groaned. “He knows my parents.”

“So? You just said he has no reason to go to Oroville or talk with anyone there.”

“But he could.”

“That’s lame.”

Carly rolled back over and glared into the darkness toward Ginger. “Would you? If a guy popped up who knew you and your parents and where you went to church and shopped for groceries, would you go for it?”

After a lengthy silence, she said, “Well, I might skip the anything goes approach…”

“Then your answer is basically no.”

“I see your point.”

“Thank you,” Carly said tightly, so wide-awake it was pathetic.

“Carly?”

“Yeah?”

“Since you’re not interested, do you mind if I have a go at him?”

Carly’s eyes widened. Why should she care? Yet she had a sudden urge to pull every one of Ginger’s red hairs out one by one.

WET SAND squished between Carly’s toes and the sun beat down on her shoulders. She’d applied a copious amount of sun block all over her body but it wasn’t really the sun’s harmful rays she was worried about. Parts of her that would be exposed once she removed the sarong should never see the light of day.

“I can’t do it,” she said, and came to a dead stop.

Ginger took a couple of extra steps and then turned to glare at her. “Do what?”

“You know what.”

“Are you still fretting over that swimsuit?”

“It’s not a swimsuit. It’s dental floss and two cotton balls.”

Ginger groaned. “For God’s sake, it’s not like everyone on the island isn’t wearing them.”

Carly slid a sideways glance at two young women, both blondes, out of the bottle was Carly’s guess, sprawled on hot-pink beach blankets only a couple of yards from the water. One lay on her stomach, and the other on her side. They both had perfect butts. Round and firm-looking, as if they worked out daily. On them the dental floss looked good.

Too good.

“I’m going back to the room and changing.” She got as far as turning around before Ginger snatched hold of her arm.

“No way. That suit you brought is hideous. I’d be embarrassed if you wore it.”

Carly gazed up at the clear blue sky and shook her head. “I can’t believe I just paid eighty bucks for this darn thing to ride up my crack.”

Ginger laughed and pulled Carly along. “You’ll get used to it. I promise.”

“Look, if I decide not to take off the sarong, just shut up. Don’t make a big deal out of it.”

“Everyone else is in bikinis and you’re going to sit there all covered up?”

Carly glanced down at the brief strip of material tied around her breasts and ending at the top of her thighs. “All covered up? I wear more clothes than this to bed.”

“Yeah, but you usually aren’t looking to get laid.”

Carly’s gaze darted left, then right.

“Nobody heard me. Come on. If the guys left without us, I’ll be pissed.”

“What do you mean left?” Carly dug in her heels. Ginger had talked her into meeting up with the guy she’d been dancing with last night. He apparently had come with two friends, both of whom, according to Ginger, were gorgeous. “I thought we were just meeting them on the beach for a drink.”

“We were thinking we might go water skiing.”

“You know how to water ski?”

“No, that’s why I need you with me. So I won’t look so bad.”

“Thanks,” Carly muttered. She would have been better off hanging around the lobby hoping to catch Rick. She wanted to talk to him one more time before making any rash decisions. Maybe they could work something out…have a little fun.

She was still wildly attracted to him and there was the advantage that she knew he was safe, as far as not being weird or perverted. After a week, he’d probably be just as ready to move on as she would. Him back to his job and fast city life, and her back to Oroville.

As many downsides as there were to small-town life, she truly loved the pace, the familiarity, the safety. So she had to trade off some excitement. Heck, life was a tradeoff, wasn’t it?

“Come on.” Walking backwards as she tried to motion Carly to hurry, Ginger nearly ran into a guy with shoulder-length dark hair and orange swim trunks.

“Hold on there, sweetheart.” The guy grasped Ginger’s shoulders, preventing the collision.

With a startled cry, Ginger spun around. “What the—” Her voice died on the warm salty breeze when she caught sight of the hunk she’d crashed into.

Right beside him in red trunks with a smooth bare chest was Rick.

Carly’s breath caught.

Carly could barely keep her eyes off Rick. She’d seen him without a shirt before, but he’d been sixteen and a little too thin. Not anymore. Holy—

“Hey, Carly.” Rick smiled. “So we meet again.” Without taking his gaze off her, he inclined his head toward the other guy. “This is Tony Marretti, my buddy from college. Carly’s a friend from way back.”

A friend. She sighed to herself. That’s all he’d ever considered her, even when she’d had an impossibly mad crush on him for the entire summer.

“Nice to meet you, Tony. And the bulldozer is my friend Ginger Robbins.”

The guys grinned. Ginger glared at her. But only for a moment and then her attention was directed solely on Tony.

“You two just cruising the beach?” Tony asked, obviously interested in Ginger, as well.

“Yup,” Ginger said at the same time Carly said, “No.”

Seeing Rick in the flesh again brought on waves of second thoughts.

Last night under the covers in the dark it had been easy to believe they could possibly have a harmless little fling. But the way her stomach tensed and knotted just looking at him, maybe it wasn’t such a hot idea.

Ginger gave her the eye—one that said she liked this opportunity better than the one they originally intended to pursue.

“By the way, I’m Rick Baxter,” he said to Ginger. “An old friend of Carly’s.”

“Are you kidding?” Ginger grinned. “I know all about you.”

Carly groaned and took her friend by the arm before she said anything she’d have to kill her for. “We have to go now. We’ll see you guys later.”

“Hey, wait a minute.” Ginger jerked away. And took Carly’s sarong with her.

Carly tried to grab it, hold the fabric in place, but the knot over her breasts untied and the sarong slid to the sand. She stooped to get it but Rick was quicker, and snatched it up. But didn’t hand it over. Instead, he stared. He stared at her breasts, then roved her belly and lingered on her thighs. The look in his eyes was of raw desire and it made her so hot she thought about running for the blue Caribbean water.

But then he’d see the back of her suit. Or lack thereof. God help her.

“Thank you,” she murmured and held out her hand.

His gaze narrowed as though he didn’t understand, and then comprehension registered and he handed her the lime-green fabric.

“Don’t put that back on,” Ginger said, trying unsuccessfully to grab it. “Doesn’t she look good in that bikini? You’re fretting for nothing.”

That did it. She was going to kill her. Or better yet, tell her how much redder the sun made her hair. Ignoring them all, and keeping her gaze lowered, she retied the sarong over her breasts and then tugged at the hem to cover the tops of her thighs.

Tony noisily cleared his throat. “You two want to go have a beer or something?”

“Sure.” Ginger was all smiles.

Carly sighed. “Aren’t you forgetting something?”

“What?”

“Justin. Didn’t you promise we’d meet him?”

Ginger waved a dismissive hand. “It’s too late now. By the time you had to go buy a new swimsuit and all—”

“Fine,” Carly said, cutting her off before she said something Carly didn’t want to hear—and didn’t want the men to hear. “Let’s go have a drink.”

“Great.” Tony took Ginger’s hand. “The pool bar makes awesome pina coladas.”

Rick stared at Carly, a hurt look in his eyes. “Hey, if you don’t want to join us, no problem.”

“I didn’t say that.”

Ginger stopped. “Of course she wants to come. Why wouldn’t she?”

Rick’s gaze stayed on Carly. “Your call.”

Ginger gave her a private wink and then lifted a coy gaze to Tony. “Let’s go find some shade.”

“I agree.” Tony gave both Rick and Carly a puzzled look before steering Ginger toward the hotel.

Carly wanted to run after them. The sudden silence between her and Rick was awkward. “Come on, let’s go join them,” she finally said.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” He threw the towel he was carrying around his neck. “I think I’ll go for a walk. You go do whatever.”

“Rick?” She laid a hand on his arm when he started to turn around. “I know I hesitated. It’s just that I don’t want to intrude on your vacation. Ginger can be a little overbearing at times. Besides, last night I got the feeling you were trying to brush me off.”

“Hell, no.”

“You disappeared so fast. What was I supposed to think?”

“That had nothing to do with you. Anyway, you were acting a little weird yourself. I figured you came with a jealous boyfriend or something.”

“Nope. No boyfriend.” She cleared her throat. “I’m just here to—” Her throat seemed to close, and she breathed in deeply.

His lips curved. “Here to what?”

She briefly closed her eyes. Was she crazy? She couldn’t explain to him why she was really here—to find out what she’d been missing. Her only two sexual experiences had been so dismal…both comedies of errors—and so frustrating that curiosity was eating her alive. Yes, modern women did it all the time. Set their sights on a guy, made their move, but for her this wasn’t easy.

She opened her eyes and summoned all her courage. “This is sort of a last fling for me.”

His brows drew together in a puzzled frown.

“You remember how small Oroville is, and I just finished graduate school so I’ll be going back home soon and, well…” She groaned, the heat starting to invade her face. What the heck had she been thinking? She couldn’t do it. Not with Rick.

She’d just make the best of her vacation—get some sun, eat and drink too much…watch everyone else having a good time. Darn it!

“I see.”

Carly caught the amusement in his eyes and her cheeks flamed with scorching heat. She thought seriously about making a run for her room. She could stay there for the next six days and order chocolate from room service. Lots of chocolate while she watched television and tried not to think about what a dope she was, and how Rick was probably still laughing his butt off at her ineptness.

She swallowed, forcing herself not to look away. “I don’t think you understand…”

“Am I in the running?”

Her heart started to race. “For what?”

One side of his mouth lifted, and she decided it would be better not to let him answer.

“It’s just a vacation.” She fidgeted with the hem of her sarong. “Like at the end of a school year when you want to party and celebrate, except once I get home I’m going to be a working stiff, and so I—What?” she said at his knowing expression.

“You did know that this resort is a notorious pickup spot for singles.”

“Really?” She was the absolute worst liar. Horrible. Even strangers knew when she was lying. “I had no idea.”

Rick laughed.

“I didn’t. Ginger planned the vacation.” Carly knew her face was a hopeless shade of red. But she lifted her chin and stared him in the eyes.

“Take it easy. I believe you.” He didn’t, of course. That was clear by the way his lips twitched but she could ignore that.

“Well…” She looked around, praying for a distraction, anything that would allow her to escape gracefully. “I really don’t want a drink. You go ahead and join them.”

“What are you going to do?”

“Go for a swim.”

“Sounds good.” He looked out toward the horizon. The water was smooth and crystal clear. “I’ll join you.”

She groaned inwardly. “I’m really more a pool kind of gal. Salt water is bad for my hair and all that.”

He grinned at her feeble excuse. “No problem. The pool is good.”

“But you wanted to have a drink.”

“Not really.”

“Look, Rick, you don’t have to baby-sit me. Ginger is free to go off and—”

Taking her hand, he pulled her close.

She drew back. “What are you doing?”

He slid her arms around his neck, and then lowered his head. Before she knew what hit her, their lips met. His felt so warm and insistent, she didn’t care that they were standing in the middle of the beach with at least a dozen people around them.

He trailed the tip of his tongue across her lower lip and then over the seam, increasing the pressure until she opened to him. He tasted incredibly sweet as if he’d just sucked on a mint. His hands explored her back, followed the outline of her buttocks until he actually cupped her against him. He was already hard, his heat pressing against her belly. She wanted desperately to melt into him.

A catcall brought her to her senses.

She drew back, breathless, reluctant. Horribly embarrassed.

Rick brushed the hair away from her face. “I’ve wanted to do that since I was sixteen.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“Because, kid…” He touched the tip of her nose. “You were only thirteen.”

“Oh.” She smiled self-consciously. He was right, of course. It didn’t matter that she’d convinced her young heart she loved him. Had he kissed her, she would have run and hidden and not surfaced until he’d left at the end of summer.

“Remember how shy you were when we first met?”

She lowered her arms from around his neck, while half wishing he’d protest. He didn’t. “You were the first boy I really got to know,” she said. “You were totally new territory for me.”

“You had a couple of school friends who hung around at the swimming hole.”

“That didn’t count. I grew up with them. They were just pals.”

“And I wasn’t?” He grinned. “I’ll be damned. You did have a crush on me.”

“You were the older boy from glamorous California. All the girls in town had a crush on you.”

His expression got serious. “What about now?”

Her stomach lurched. “What do you mean?”

He smiled. “Has the attraction faded?”

“Well…no.” She folded her arms across her chest and his gaze immediately went to her breasts. An alarming amount of cleavage showed above the sarong and she casually uncrossed her arms. “This is very weird.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “Because we have a past. I know that you hate peanut butter and jelly sandwiches and chocolate ice cream. And that you didn’t learn how to ride a bike until you were eleven.”

“Shit, how did you remember all that stuff?”

She peered closer. “You still have a scar.”

His hand went to the side of his chin where she’d accidentally clobbered him with the butt of a fishing pole that first summer. “Yeah, you maimed me for life.”

“Excuse me, but if I remember correctly I was defending myself.”

“Right,” he scoffed. “I think it was the other way around.”

“You were trying to throw me in the lake.”

“No, I wasn’t.”

“Bull.”

His grin was slow and wicked. “Trust me, I wasn’t trying to throw you in the lake.”

“Then what were you doing?”

“Trying to feel you up.”

That startled a laugh out of her. At thirteen she’d just started to develop breasts. “You lie.”

One side of his mouth lifted. “You asked, I admitted. Deal with it.”

“Gee, just as charming as ever.”

His eyes glittered with humor. “We’re getting off track. Why is having a past a problem?”

She sighed, wishing he hadn’t gone back to that subject.

“It makes things sticky.”

“That’s hardly an explanation.” He drew her towards him again, kissing her briefly. She breathed in the pleasant smell of the cocoa butter glistening on his tanned shoulders. “How about we go get that drink and let nature take its course?”

She almost commented on his lack of originality, but all she could think about was how much she wanted him to kiss her again. Judging by the hungry look in his eyes, it wouldn’t take much to coax him.

He released her and then pulled the towel from around his neck and draped it over his arm. But not before she saw the erection he’d been trying to hide.

“Okay, we’ll at least have a drink.” God, she just hoped her legs still worked.

He took her hand, the feeling as natural as if he’d been doing it for a lifetime, and led her toward the hotel.

“I think the pool bar is that way,” she said, pointing in the opposite direction.

Rick squeezed her hand. “We’re not going to the pool. We’re going to my room.”

3

LITTLE, SKINNY, freckle-faced Carly Saunders. Rick shook his head as he got out the miniature bottles of booze from the small refrigerator. This was the last place he would have expected to run into her. Not that he’d given her much thought over the past eleven or twelve years.

Yeah, he’d wanted to kiss her that day they’d gone for a hike and picnic near Little Reservoir, but that had been hormones talking. She’d been far too young for him.

He turned around to look at her sitting on the couch. She sure wasn’t now.

“Either a Bloody Mary or a screwdriver is about all we have the stuff for,” he said. “Or a beer. What’s your pleasure?”

She blinked, and he hoped the same thing crossed her mind as did his. “I’d rather have a soda or water.”

“Even if I promise not to take advantage of you?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “Who’s to say I won’t take advantage of you?”

He laughed. “Sweetheart, you don’t have to get me drunk. I’ll do anything you want.”

Carly laughed. “I’ll stick with a soda.”

“Coming right up.” He busied himself filling a glass with ice, coaching himself to ease up. Was she here to get laid like most of the guests? The Carly he remembered wouldn’t be, but of course it had been a long time. People changed.

Amazing how he’d immediately known it was her. Especially since she looked pretty different. Most of the freckles were gone, but she had that clear fair skin that showed every hint of color when she got embarrassed.

“Here you go.” He handed her a cola and sat down on the couch beside her with his beer.

She recrossed her legs so that she angled away from him.

He nudged her with a light elbow to her ribs. “You still think I have cooties?”

“I never accused you of having cooties.”

“Sure you did. The first day I met you in my grandmother’s backyard.”

Her eyes seemed greener than he remembered, more almond-shaped. “Number one, I was only eleven. Number two, you can’t remember back that far.”

“Wanna bet? You climbed the fence to find a softball you’d thrown over the day before.” He took a gulp of beer. “Probably just looking for an excuse to meet me.”

She laughed. “I see you haven’t changed.”

“What?”

“Just as arrogant as ever.”

“Me? No way.” Having two famous parents didn’t inspire confidence or arrogance.

“Please.” She gave him the eye-roll again.

“You really think I was arrogant?”

Carly laughed, her sweet warm breath fanning his chin and shoulder.

“Come on, explain.” Not that he cared. Right now all he could think about was what he’d glimpsed under that sarong. She sure wasn’t that same skinny kid anymore.

“Don’t you remember how you used to drag out all those exotic pictures of you and your parents at different archeological digs?”

“You seemed pretty impressed.”

“I was. Heck, I hadn’t been farther than Salt Lake City and you’d been to places I’d never heard of and couldn’t even pronounce.”

“How does that make me arrogant?”

She took a sip of her cola, and the way she pursed her lips around the rim of the glass had his thoughts heading due south. She’d started to relax and probably didn’t realize that her sarong had puckered open a bit, giving him a great view of her flat belly and the underside of her breasts.

She set the glass aside. “Are you trying to tell me you didn’t think we were all a bunch of hicks living in Oroville.”

“Yeah, I probably did. But come on, I was only a kid myself. Cut me some slack.”

“You asked me to explain.” A smile lifted her rosy-pink lips. They were naturally that color, he seemed to recall, as if she were wearing lipstick all the time.

He took another gulp of beer. “You sure you don’t want a screwdriver or something?”

“Positive. It’ll make me sleepy.”

His gaze went to the bed and his pulse picked up speed. “We get in that bed and it won’t be to sleep.”

She laughed. “Rick.”

“What? You don’t think I had a thing for you, too?”

“I was too young, remember?”

“You were a girl. I liked you. I had hopes.” He let the back of his fingers brush her arm. “And you’re not too young anymore.”

She moistened her lips, and then they parted as if she were going to say something. Only nothing came out.

He smiled. “You have plans for dinner?”

Her throat worked as she swallowed. “Not really. I’ll probably be eating with Ginger.”

“I have a feeling Tony will be keeping her busy. He has a debilitating weakness for redheads.”

“A match made in heaven. She has a weakness for nice chests.” Color seeped into her cheeks. “I assume she thinks he has a nice chest,” she murmured, then grabbed the cola and tipped it to her lips.

He frowned, annoyed that Carly had obviously been eyeing Tony. “I’m guessing Ginger is here for the same reason.”

She arched her brows at him. “You mean, to take a vacation before starting work?”

“Don’t get so defensive,” he said, playfully cupping the back of her neck. Her skin was so soft and warm he wanted to run his palms all over her. Hard to believe this was the scrawny little tomboy who’d taught him how to bait a hook and beaten him at soccer. But here she was, all grown up and filled out. Soft and curvy, and making his blood simmer.

“I’m not defensive. It’s just that you’re making too big a deal out of a simple vacation.”

“My apologies.” He continued to massage her nape, pleased when she briefly closed her eyes and let her head fall forward.

His gaze followed the rise and fall of her chest, the way the rounded tops of her breasts pushed up above the sarong. The strong urge to slide his hand between the overlaps of the fabric made him sit up straighter and strategically angle his arm over his overactive crotch.

“Feel good?” he asked,

“Oh yeah.” She sighed. “Too good.”

“Nothing can feel too good,” he whispered. He had to watch himself. Given the slightest encouragement, he’d crawl all over her. He eased up, letting his fingers trail away. “About dinner…how about we get together?”

“I don’t know.” She sat up straighter. “What about Ginger and Tony?”

He shouldn’t have backed off. A little physical coaxing might be in order. “What about them? They can make their own plans. Or I suppose we could have dinner with them.”

She hesitated, her brows drawn together in thought, her tongue slipping out to moisten her lips again and drive him insane. “This is only the first full day of vacation.”

“Okay,” he said slowly. “And?”

Fidgeting with the sarong, she seemed reluctant to continue. “Why are you here?”

“What do you mean?”

“You told me this was a notorious pick-up place.”

“And you’re assuming I’m here to get laid?”

“Yeah.”

He grinned at her directness. “That would be nice.”

“Okay, so don’t you think you’d be better off spending your time meeting that goal?”

He didn’t know whether to laugh or groan. “Talk about a brush-off.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Basically you’re telling me I’m not getting lucky here so don’t waste my time.”

She let out a low growl of frustration. “Don’t you see? I’m letting you off the hook.”

He was getting frustrated himself. “How?”

She leaned back and took a deep breath, the swell of her breasts undermining his concentration. “Let’s discuss this hypothetically, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, trying to keep a straight face. Hypothetically. Right.

“Let’s say we both came here to have a week of wild, uninhibited sex.” She quickly added, “Hypothetically, of course.”

He nearly lost it then. Wild? Uninhibited? He shifted to hide his body’s eager reaction, and nodded.

“Okay, then…” She seemed remarkably calm. “Wouldn’t you want the whole thing to be anonymous?”

“Why?”

Her eyes widened. “Surely you wouldn’t want anyone who knew you to be around watching.”

He put up both hands and shook his head. “Hey, I’m not into that.”

“Darn it, you know what I mean.”

He grinned. “Yeah, okay, I do. But I still don’t understand what you’re worried about.”

She shook her head and sighed. “Look, this is my one week of freedom and I’m not going to blow it.”

“Don’t you think we would hit it off in bed?”

“What part of anonymous don’t you understand?”

“Come here.”

“What?” She eyed him warily when he grasped her chin.

“What part of chemistry don’t you understand?” He slanted his mouth over hers and teased her lips open with his tongue.

At first she tensed, but in seconds she gave up all resistance and put a hand on his chest. He deepened the kiss, sweeping the inside of her mouth, tasting, sucking, absorbing her sweetness. When her hand drifted downward, he sucked in a breath, disappointed when she stopped at his waist.

He fought against guiding her hand down to his growing erection. He’d gotten so damn hard it was uncomfortable. But he didn’t want to rush her. She had enough misgivings.

Instead he drew his palm down her arm, then back up again, deliberately brushing her breast, pleased when she didn’t pull away. Cautiously he molded his hand to her shoulder and then moved it to cup her breast lightly.

She whimpered softly and shifted, forcing him to lose contact. When she leaned back, her eyes were dazed. “I shouldn’t be here.”

“Why not?” He casually moved his hand to her thigh, while holding her gaze.

“We have to stop before it’s too late.”

“Too late for what?”

“To stay friends,” she whispered, shifting, squirming, until his hand landed higher up on her thigh.

He couldn’t tell if the action were conscious or not, but he was getting damn close to heaven. “Who says we can’t?”

“This is so confusing.” She sighed, leaned away and moved her leg so that her thighs clamped together. “I never ever expected to see anyone I knew here.”

“But you did, and you have to realize we’re two mature adults now.”

“I do.”

“Obviously, I’m very interested.”

She blinked. “Okay, but if we do go through with this, and I’m not saying we will, we need to set ground rules.”

He frowned. “Such as?”

“If we agree to a physical relationship, we both go into this knowing it’s a one-week stand. Or you may decide one night is enough, someone else may catch your eye and I don’t want you to be afraid to—”

“Christ, Carly, I didn’t come here for the sole purpose of having sex.”

“I didn’t either,” she said defensively.

He smiled. “I didn’t think otherwise.”

“Okay, then…” She cleared her throat. “You understand that this is a one-week deal, right? Then we go our separate ways.”

A disgusting thought occurred to him. “Are you getting married?”

“Married?”

“When you return to Oroville. Is there someone waiting for you? Is that what you meant by a last fling?”

“Good God, no.” She shook her head vehemently. “I wouldn’t be here if I were about to be married.”

“Okay. I had to ask.”

She drained her cola and stood. “Maybe I will have a Bloody Mary.”

“Help yourself.” He watched her walk to the mini bar, enjoying the gentle sway of her hips, the athletic curve of her calves. “Are you still playing soccer?”

“No.” She laughed. “Not for over eight years.” She rinsed out her glass and then turned to look at him with dismay in her eyes. “This is a bad idea, isn’t it?”

“Why?”

“We have a history together. Not much of one, but still…”

“Isn’t that better?”

“No.” She looked away and focused on making her Bloody Mary. “We can forget the whole thing, Rick. No problem. Really.”

“Just stay friends?”

“Sure.”

He couldn’t tell if she was ignoring his sarcasm or just didn’t get it. “We haven’t seen each other in over twelve years. We’ve made no attempt to contact each other. I wouldn’t classify us as friends.”

“I’ll send you a card this Christmas.”

“Very funny.” He shook his head, wondering if this was commitment phobia making her so paranoid. “Is this an annual thing for you? Once a year you go on vacation and—”

She stiffened and set down the glass. Without another word, she headed for the door.

He jumped up and caught her around the waist. She shoved at his chest but he wouldn’t let her go. “Come on. I wasn’t being judgmental or trying to insult you. I’m simply trying to understand.”

“Of course I haven’t done this before. I’m just curious, okay? You know what Oroville is like. It’s a darn fishbowl. I can’t sneeze without everyone knowing about it.”

He tightened his arms around her. She was so soft, her skin smooth and warm and her eyes… “I didn’t remember your eyes being this green.”

“They’re kind of hazel.”

“Right now they’re green. Very green.”

“Because I’m annoyed.” With raised eyebrows, she added, “Very annoyed.”

“Not at me.” His mock expression of innocence made the corners of her mouth twitch.

Her lips lifted in a reluctant smile. “I don’t see anyone else in the room.”

“That’s right.” He waggled his eyebrows up and down. “We’re alone.”

Her gaze drew to his mouth, and he felt the tension radiate from her. “Rick, I’m very much attracted to you and I’d like for us to get together. As long as we both understand there are no strings attached.”

“Ah, so you think once we’ve made mad passionate love I won’t be able to resist your charms.”

She rolled her eyes. “Don’t quit your day job.”

He smiled, his gaze falling to her lips. “Guess there’s only one way to find out.”

HAD HE SLIPPED something into her cola? Or had she simply been hanging around with Ginger too long? Carly Saunders was not that bold. Well, sometimes, but in many ways she was still that shy little girl Rick had first met, full of false bravado and bluster on the outside.

She looked away, out of the window toward the ocean. Not that she could actually see it from where she stood but she imagined the warm blue-green water gently lapping against the shore. The image did little to calm her.

“Carly?”

She wouldn’t look at him, and instead reclaimed the Bloody Mary off the top of the mini-bar. He hooked a finger under her chin and brought her face around to meet his. The hunger in his eyes sent a thrill of pleasure up her spine. She forgot for a moment that she held the glass, and it tilted, the liquid sloshing on her hand and wrist

“Let me help clean that up.” Then he picked up her hand and bent his head.

Mesmerized, she watched as his tongue made contact and he licked off the spilled liquid. Her breath caught at the velvet warmth of it, and she closed her eyes, knowing she should stop him, but helpless to do so.

He continued licking his way up her arm, until he got to the curve of her neck. He kissed her there and then worked his way up to her ear.

She let her head loll back. This was much better than anonymous. This was Rick. She knew him. She trusted him.

He made a low guttural sound and captured her mouth. She responded, holding nothing back, opening up to him, their tongues meeting in an erotic dance.

When his hand moved to the knot securing her sarong, she didn’t stop him. When he untied it, letting it fall to the floor, and then slid his palm down the curve of her hip, she still didn’t object. In fact, she did some of her own exploring, running her hand over his flat taut belly, and twirling a finger in the hair around his navel.

He was the one to finally break the kiss, his breathing ragged and heavy. “We’d be more comfortable in bed.”

She swallowed, her breathing not so steady either. “God, this is so hard.”

“Not as hard as I am,” he whispered, lightly biting her earlobe.

“You’re awful.” She smiled at the casual way he ran his hand up and down her side as they talked, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

“And you love it.”

Carly bit her lip. That was the problem. She did love it. She loved Rick’s irreverence, his sense of adventure, and his go-for-it attitude. She remembered how much she’d learned that first summer with him. Oh, and the fun they’d had—even though she’d gotten into more trouble than ever before in her whole life. She’d also learned that it wasn’t so easy being the pastor’s good daughter.

“We have to take this slow,” she said firmly, straightening so he knew she meant business. “Really think about it.”

“I’ve hardly thought about anything else.”

“Rick.”

The pleading in her voice must have sunk in because the amusement faded from his face. “We’ll take it slow,” he said as he toyed with the elastic of her bikini bottom, slipping a finger inside, stroking her skin. “Did I ever ’fess up about the dreams I had about you?”

She shook her head, his mesmerizing gaze capturing hers. “Tell me now.”

He added another finger to his exploration, and yet another, and then followed the curve of her bottom, but not too far. Nothing threatening. Just enough to tease her. Make her wish he’d cup his palms over her flesh and pull her against him. Make her forget about going slow.

“I guess I wouldn’t have said anything then, especially at sixteen,” he said, watching her, his gaze locked onto hers. “Way too embarrassing.”

Mimicking him, she traced the top of his waistband, letting her fingernails dip under the elastic, pleased at his sharp intake of breath. “I hope you’re going to tell me now, since you brought it up.”

“It was the typical sex-crazed sixteen-year-old boy’s dream. I think I’ll leave it at that.”

Carly smiled. “Okay, then let’s talk about what you’ve been doing since then.”

“I thought that would be the kind of thing you would want to avoid on this vacation.”

Annoyed with herself, she lowered her hands. She was curious about him, about what he’d accomplished, but he was right, getting personal led to intimacy. Exactly what she wanted to stay away from.

He shifted away and reached for his beer. “Okay, what the hell…after high school I went on to USC. Stayed for two years of graduate school. Then headed for Kenya and the Ivory Coast.”

“To dig?”

“That, and to see the sights.” He brought the beer to his lips, drained it and opened the small refrigerator. “What about you?”

“That’s all?” She laughed, and he stared blankly at her. “Silly me. Everyone’s been to Kenya. Must make for very boring conversation.”

Ignoring her sarcasm, he got out another beer. “In school I did a lot of studying and an equal amount of partying. Just your average college Joe.”

“You’ve been everywhere. That’s hardly average.”

He shrugged. “I haven’t traveled much since. I’ve come here on vacation for the past three years.”

She frowned. He’d been dead set on studying archeology, on making his mark in the same field as his parents. That required travel. “I’m assuming you studied archeology.”

“Oh, yeah. Got my master’s and all that.” He gave her a pensive look. “You always wanted to teach. Is that what you’re doing?”

“I will when I go back to Oroville next week. Well, in two months when the school year starts.” She paused, hoping he’d continue. “You still haven’t told me what you’re doing.”

“Trying to seduce you.”

“Come on.” She gave him a playful jab, but her insides were already turning to butter. “I’m serious.”

He took a swig of beer, and faced her, determination and desire blatant in his eyes. “So am I. But—” He held up his hands in surrender. “We’ll take it slow.”

“Thank you,” she said, her voice a breathless betrayal. “Let’s talk some more.”

“Oh, brother.”

She ignored his grumpy expression. “How are your parents?”

“Divorced.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Why the surprise? It happens to couples all the time.”

“So they don’t work together anymore?”

He gave her a mocking look. “That’s about the only thing they could do together without fighting.”

“I didn’t know,” she murmured. As a boy he’d told a different story. To him they were like gods.

“No big deal.” He set down the beer. “If we’re going to talk, sweetheart, it’s not going to be about the past.” And then he reached for her. “Let’s talk about what we’re going to do tonight….”

4

“IN CASE you’ve forgotten, this room has only one bathroom.” Disgusted, Carly pounded on the door for the third time. The lighting at the desk was too dim and she had only five minutes left to finish applying her makeup.

“Hold on.” Ginger’s impatient tone only made Carly more annoyed. “This humidity is doing a number on my hair.”

“Your frizzy hair will be the least of your worries if you don’t open this darn door.”

It opened suddenly. Ginger frowned at her. “What the hell has gotten into you?”

“We have only five minutes before we meet the guys for dinner.” Carly jabbed a finger at her watch. “You can do your hair out here. I need the bathroom light for my makeup.”

“No kidding. You look like a clown.” Ginger threw her a cool look as she pushed past, curling iron in hand.

Tempted to make a crack about her frizzy hair, Carly held her tongue. Ginger always hogged the bathroom and Carly seldom minded. But this evening she was in a strange mood. Edgy. Uncertain. Scared to death.

It was only dinner, she told herself as she set down her makeup bag, looked in the mirror and sighed. She did look like a clown. Too much blush. The unfortunate bluish eye shadow made her look eerily like her mother’s high-school graduation picture.

She loved her mom, but yuk… Carly was used to wearing a more natural shade when she bothered at all. So why was she making herself crazy? She knew in her heart that Rick wasn’t a candidate for her week of therapeutic debauchery. No, actually she knew intellectually he wasn’t the right one. Her heart foolishly wanted to jump in head-first.

“What are you scrubbing all that off for?” Ginger stared at her from the doorway. “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it about you looking like a clown.”

“You were right. This isn’t me.”

“It’s going to be dark. You’ll want to wear more makeup than usual.”

“Mascara and blush will be enough.”

Ginger sighed. “Yeah, I guess he’s pretty much a sure thing.”

Carly slid her a sidelong glance. “What do you mean?”

“I saw the way Rick looked at you.”

“We’re friends. That’s all.” Carly turned back to the mirror and inspected her bald face before reapplying the tinted moisturizer.

“Friends?” Ginger chuckled. “Okay, but don’t tell me you’re not ready to jump his bones.”

“I am most certainly not ready to jump his bones. I haven’t decided yet.” Carly smoothed in some foundation to blot out several obnoxious freckles. “Are you ready?”

“Pretty much.” She reached around Carly for the hairspray. “I don’t understand you. The guy is gorgeous. He obviously wants you. You’ve been doing a little drooling yourself. What’s the problem?”

“You have to ask? This whole week was supposed to be about anonymity.”

“So? Isn’t it better that you know and like him, and who knows what could develop? You said yourself you’d eventually like to get married.”

“Nothing can develop. That’s the—” Carly cut herself short. She didn’t want to get into this discussion with Ginger. Or anyone. It was too hard to explain. Her longings were a mystery even to herself.

Yes, she eventually wanted to have a husband, start a family, and she wanted to do it in Oroville. She loved her home, and she wanted her children to have the same advantages she’d had growing up in a small loving community. The problem was, the guys who lived there were conservative and boring, with not much more ambition than to own a new pickup every three years.

Not like Rick. He’d been exciting and adventurous and had brought out a reckless streak in her she hadn’t known she possessed. The discovery had been both exhilarating and scary, and the careless behavior not always easy to suppress.

Even now she could clearly recall the time he’d suggested they explore the old Colby mine. Condemned since she’d learned how to talk, the mine had been strictly off limits and all the kids in Oroville knew it. None of them would even dream about ignoring the no trespassing sign. But all he’d had had to do was dare her…

She smiled. That was one of her best afternoons ever.

Darn it. She could really like Rick. Heck, she already did. But, at this point, it wasn’t like she’d go home and pine away for him. Intimacy could change that. Then where would she be?

“Damn it. Look at the time. We’re late.” Ginger squeezed her eyes shut and aimed the hairspray at her French braid.

Spray went everywhere, and Carly grabbed her makeup bag and exited the bathroom in a fit of coughing. She applied some blush with a far lighter touch this time and decided to forgo any eye pencil.

“Okay.” Ginger surfaced from the bathroom, and slung her purse over her shoulder. “Ready for action.” She adjusted the top of her turquoise sundress to get maximum cleavage. “I’m talking really ready.” She grinned. “Tony isn’t going to know what hit him.”

Carly laughed as she grabbed her own purse. She couldn’t help it. What a piece of work. “I don’t think you’ll have to worry about coercing Tony.”

Ginger got to the door but stopped, her eyes sparkling. “Why? Did Rick say something?”

“Oh, please. He didn’t have to.” Carly made a shooing motion, trying to get her friend out the door. “Tony is definitely hot for you.”

A pleased smile curved Ginger’s lips as she walked out into the corridor. “I’m betting he just might get lucky tonight.”

“Might?” Carly pulled the door closed. “Yeah, right.”

Ginger laughed. “Which reminds me. How are we going to work the room thing?”

Carly frowned at first, and then she got it, petty envy taking a bite out of her. “Just put out the do not disturb sign and I’ll disappear for a while.”

“If he spends the night with me, you can spend it with Rick in their room, right?”

Carly swallowed her disappointment and jealousy. “Sure,” she said, ignoring the butterflies that had turned her stomach into a circus.

“WHAT LOOKS GOOD?” Tony stared at the menu. “Anybody ever have conch chowder?”

Carly had never even heard of the dish. She glanced at Ginger who was too busy making goo-goo eyes at Tony to notice.

“It’s okay,” Rick said. “I prefer abalone myself, but it’s a local favorite. You ought to try it once while we’re here.”

“You’re right. Try everything once is my motto.” Tony grinned at Ginger. “Go back for seconds if you like it.”

She giggled and gave his arm a playful punch.

Carly started to roll her eyes but caught herself. From her peripheral vision, she saw Rick watching her. Instead of acknowledging him, she buried her nose in the menu.

“What are you having, Carly?” He touched her hand and she jerked in surprise, nearly knocking over the pina colada he’d ordered for her before she and Ginger had arrived.

She set down the menu and clasped her hands in her lap. “I’m not sure.”

“Want me to make a couple of suggestions?”

Something in his lowered voice made her look up. He winked and her silly heart fluttered. “I’ll probably have the mango chicken.”

“Oysters,” Tony suggested. “They’re good for—”

Giggling, Ginger nudged him again. “We all know what they’re good for.” With a lift of her chin, she made a teasing sound of disgust. “As if I need an aphrodisiac.”

Tony smiled and whispered something in her ear.

Carly inwardly groaned and quickly picked up the menu again. Why on earth had she agreed to come to dinner with them? Stupid question. She wasn’t ready to be alone with Rick again.

“Come on, children, save this for later.” Rick threw a wadded up cocktail napkin at Tony.

“We have far more interesting matters to discuss later,” Tony said, throwing the napkin back and giving Ginger a significant look.

Thankfully, Tony and Ginger cooled it long enough to order and eat dinner. Carly knew Rick had spoken up because he noticed she was embarrassed. Not embarrassed, really, more uncomfortable. And a little annoyed. Not with Ginger or Tony, certainly not with Rick, but with the situation in general.

She’d loved flirting with him earlier. No way could she deny the incredible chemistry that had made the entire room sizzle. She’d relived the touching and kissing the rest of the afternoon, but in the end apprehension nailed her. If she did anything with Rick, she was going to think back to it forever and ever. Think about the carefree person she was with him, and about what could have been. Sad, but true.

Which left her starting to panic over her vacation. How could she possibly enjoy herself wondering if he was watching her? She would have to think of something quickly or spend the rest of the week watching reruns of Buffy the Vampire Slayer.

She blinked at the stunning blond waitress who smiled at Rick as she served them another round of pina coladas. Maybe the week was still salvageable, after all. If Rick hooked up with someone, he’d be too busy to pay attention to what Carly was doing….

The sudden thought stirred mixed emotions. Jealousy clawed at her just thinking about him being with another woman. Ridiculous, of course, but there it was. Yet there was also relief in knowing she wouldn’t have to look over her shoulder constantly.

“Would you like anything else?” the blond waitress asked them, although her attention was mostly directed at Rick.

“I’m fine,” he said. “What about the rest of you? Want some dessert?”

Tony and Ginger promptly shook their heads. No big surprise. They were clearly anxious to be off on their own.

“Okay, I guess that’s it.” Rick reached into his pocket. “How many beads do I owe you?”

“I’d like some dessert,” Carly said.

Tony and Ginger had already gotten up from the table, but they hesitated.

“Go ahead.” She waved them off. “Rick will keep me company, won’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Okay, we’ll see you guys later.” Tony exchanged a knowing look with Rick, and then steered Ginger toward the door.

“Would you like to see the menu again?” the waitress asked, perky and braless beneath her pink T-shirt.

Rick had given her a couple of glances, but nothing more than Carly herself had done. The woman’s brief white shorts showed an extraordinary amount of well-defined leg as she leaned across the table to remove dishes, but, again, Rick didn’t seem overly interested.

Carly shook her head. “I know what I want. A hot fudge sundae with extra whipped cream.”

Rick chuckled, one eyebrow lifting in surprise. “Better make that two,” he said to the waitress, his gaze staying on Carly.

“Coming right up.” The blonde picked up a couple of more plates and then drifted to the next table.

Still, Rick’s interest remained solely on Carly. She felt a stupid thrill that she could hold his rapt attention. Which was crazy. She was supposed to be trying to get rid of him.

“I need help trying to figure something out here.” Rick pursed his lips, looking suspiciously as if he were trying not to laugh.

“Yes?” She forced herself to hold his gaze.

“Why you’re stalling.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“Either you’re thinking of a way to get rid of me, or figuring out how to get me in the sack. Which of course would be a no-brainer.”

“Why does this have to be about you?” Carly bristled and didn’t care that it showed. “I simply would like a hot fudge sundae, okay?”

He laughed. “Okay.”

Anxious to busy herself, she started digging in her purse for her beads. And then she realized that, like a good girl, she’d put them around her neck, just as they’d instructed her to do at check-in. “How much do I owe you for dinner?”

“Forget it.”

She removed a string from around her neck. “No, we all were given a certain allotment of beads, and it wouldn’t be fair for you to run out.”

“You can pay the tab next time.”

“What if there isn’t a next time?”

He narrowed his gaze and studied her face.

The silence grew uncomfortable, and she stared down at the cocktail napkin she’d been shredding. “You know, you might hook up with someone else and I won’t see much of you.”

“Carly,” he said, as if scolding a child, and then he took the string of beads out of her other hand, “I thought we’d already settled that.”

She slid a glance at the beads, wondering what he had planned for them. He leaned close and then slipped them over her head and kissed her briefly on the lips. He pulled back slightly to smile at her.

“Here you go.” The waitress appeared with their sundaes. “I put extra whipped cream on both,” she said as she set a huge glass bowl in front of each of them.

“Thanks,” Carly said.

The server smiled. “Anything else?”

Rick raised a questioning brow at Carly. She shook her head and picked up her spoon, no longer interested in dessert. What she wanted was for Rick to kiss her again.

She also wanted him to go away and leave her alone.

What a mess.

The waitress gave Rick the total, and he dropped the appropriate number of beads in her hand. Although she remained pleasant, she didn’t seem nearly as interested in Rick as before, and Carly realized the kiss must have warned her off.

Foolish pleasure warmed her, and when Rick dipped his spoon into his sundae and brought the offering to her lips, she didn’t hesitate. He smiled and brushed some stray whipped cream off her top lip. She had the nearly irresistible urge to draw his thumb into her mouth. She stopped herself, but when she met his gaze she knew she was busted.

He knew how turned on she was. It was there in the golden flecks in his eyes, like liquid flames of desire, matching her own wants and needs.

God, she wanted him. Wanted to go back to her room and strip him naked. Explore every nuance of his body. What would be so terrible about being with Rick? She couldn’t possibly get too attached in just one week, could she? And then she’d never see him again. Equally important, he had no reason to go to Oroville.

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