Praise for Tawny Weber

“Sexy, hot, intriguing as well as fun are all hallmarks of a Tawny Weber tale.”

—CataRomance

“If you like laugh out loud tales laced with spicy scenes, I recommend Tawny Weber. I look forward to reading more from this talented author.”

—Romance Junkies

“Tawny Weber delivers a story that is sexy, romantic, and inspirational. I will be very much looking forward to more from this talented author.”

—Wild On Books

“Feels Like the First Time is scandalous fun for the voracious reader. The story moves quickly, smoothly, and with enough heat to burn your fingers as you turn the pages.”

—A Romance Review

“Snappy, young and hip, Tawny Weber’s fresh voice pops with energy!”

—New York Times bestselling author

Julie Elizabeth Leto

Dear Reader,

I’m a big fan of dreaming. I dream up stories. I dream up excuses. I dream up wild scenarios in which delicious chocolate is fat-free, killer heels don’t hurt my feet and money really does grow on trees.

In other words, I spend a great deal of time in a fantasy land. Which is why I was so excited when my editor suggested I write a Forbidden Fantasy. What’s better than a fantasy, after all? Especially a fantasy that’s naughty and off-limits….

And that’s exactly what Drucilla decides her vacation-fling fantasy will be—very, very naughty. Especially when she meets surfer boy Alex, a guy who’s so much more than he seems.

If you’re on the Internet, please drop by my Web site at www.tawnyweber.com and let me know what you think of Drucilla and Alex’s story. While you’re there, check out my blog, vote for the hunk of the month or enter my current contest. I’d love to hear from you.

Enjoy,

Tawny Weber

Riding the Waves
Tawny Weber

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Tawny Weber is usually found dreaming up stories in her California home, surrounded by dogs, cats and kids. When she’s not writing hot, spicy stories for Harlequin Blaze, she’s shopping for the perfect pair of shoes or drooling over Johnny Depp pictures (when her husband isn’t looking, of course). Come by and visit her on the web at www.tawnyweber.com.

A huge hug and lots of thanks to Nancy Haddock for the surf instructions and to Lisa Spindler for being my science go-to gal.

And, as always, thanks to Elaine English for the great direction and advice.

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

Epilogue

1

“SOOO? How was your date?”

Drucilla Robichoux froze, her spoonful of lemon yogurt halfway to her mouth. She’d been dreading this question.

Wrinkling her nose, she shot a quick glance around the lab’s lunchroom. Sunlight, filtered through typical San Francisco fog, dully lit the empty space. Seeing no escape—and fortunately nobody to overhear—she sighed, licked the tart yogurt from the spoon and prepared to confess.

“I think I’d be better off giving up on men,” she admitted to her best friend and fellow scientist, Nikki Hanson. “This is the sixth failed dating experiment this year. And it’s only August.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised. I still can’t believe you went on more than one date with Dr. Uptight,” Nikki said as she polished off her pastrami sandwich. She meant Bryan Smith-Updike, a physicist from the Lawrence Livermore Lab and Drucilla’s companion the last four Saturday nights. The first three, they’d attended the theater, the opera and the California Academy of Sciences. She’d been bored to death, but not nearly as bored as she’d been during the sex that’d marked their fourth weekend.

“It wasn’t much of a date,” Dru admitted. “The guy was a gasper.”

“That’s even worse than the wheezer. What was his name? Mad-scientist Maxwell?”

“No, he was the counter. You know, in-two-three. Out-two-three. The wheezer was that biochemist I dated last year.”

“Maybe gasping is a step up?” Nikki asked, her doubtful wince making her dimples flash. “But at least Uptight finally dropped drawers, right?”

“Unfortunately,” Drucilla confirmed with a grimace. She puffed out her cheeks, contemplated the last few bites of yogurt, then shoved it aside and opened her bag of cut vegetables.

She lamented the sad truth…. Her love life was in an unending downward spiral of suckiness.

Drucilla wanted to love sex. Better yet, she wanted a sex life worth loving. She was a firm believer in maintaining a healthy balance between mind and body. Her mind was top-notch and she worked to keep her body the same. Good food, regular exercise. And sex, dammit. She’d read plenty of studies that claimed that regular, satisfying sex was important to good health. And she was missing out.

Maybe self-gratification would be enough if she increased her beta-carotene intake?

“So the date didn’t go well?” Nikki nudged, obviously wanting all the dirty details.

Drucilla popped a cherry tomato in her mouth and debated blowing off the question. Then, realizing it couldn’t sound any worse than the wheezer confession—always nice to have a rock bottom—she shrugged.

“Oh, sure, it went well for him,” she said after she’d swallowed. “Peachy, in fact. Remember how I told you that Bryan’s been frustrated with the calculations he’s been working on?” Drucilla waited for Nikki’s confused nod before continuing. “Well, he’s had a breakthrough. Mid, shall we say, thrust, he yelled ‘Eureka!’ rolled over and scrambled for his pants, where he apparently always carries a notepad and pen.”

Dru smirked at the shocked, slack-jawed look on Nikki’s face. “Yep, he was so thrilled to have broken that mathematical code, he didn’t even grumble when I shoved him out the door before he could finish zipping his pants.”

Mouth still agape, Nikki shook her head in pitying shock. “How on earth do you find these guys?”

“It’s a gift,” Dru mused.

“I think this guy’s worse than that Nobel laureate you went out with who carried a picture of Einstein in his pocket along with a condom.”

“And insisted on both during sex,” Dru agreed, wrinkling her nose at the memory. “The condom was welcome, but sadly, the only one of the three of us to end up with wild-sex hair was ole Al.”

And only to Nikki would Dru confess such a thing. Years of moving from town to town—her parents usually on the run from creditors—on top of Dru’s own innate shyness, had made it difficult for her to make friends. Even college, or colleges since she’d attended four, had been spent on the move, with Dru having to hold down three jobs to pay for school and living at home to cut expenses.

But when she’d come to work at Trifecta, Nikki had taken Dru under her wing. Now Nikki was her best friend and one of the few people she worked with whom she also saw socially. The lab, National Physics Trifecta, was a brain trust that specialized in the three branches of physics: astro, nuclear and quantum. While Dru was all about the astro, Nikki—despite her sweet dimples and luxurious black curls—was nicknamed the ball breaker of the quantum physics lab.

Not only was she in a different department from Dru, Nikki was almost a different species. Optimistic, upbeat and outgoing, with a curvy figure that turned men’s heads, the brunette was Dru’s polar opposite.

Blond, cool and contained, Dru knew she put off a don’t-touch-me air. She didn’t mean to, but couldn’t seem to change it. So she’d had to find a way to make it work for her. She’d finally figured that if she held her head high and remembered to make at least one friendly comment a day, she was fine. Now everyone at the lab thought she was just reserved, offering respect and a level of deference she knew was rare, given her age and nonleadership position.

And to keep that respect, it was vital that any and all details of her miserable love life remain private.

It helped that the lab had very stringent interpersonal-relationship rules. Friendships were fine, but dating was frowned on. Not that Dru would ever date anyone she actually had to work with. She’d seen too many relationships crash and burn. And somehow, while the guy managed to waltz away with his career intact, the woman always paid a price.

Because nothing, not even her bashfulness or a lack of partner-generated orgasms, would get in the way of her career security. She couldn’t afford to let it. And so far, that strategy was working quite well.

Now to figure out how to make her love life work, too.

After years of bad dates, she’d finally decided to approach dating as a hypothesis. She carefully chose men who were her intellectual equal based on the premise that all men had the same basic equipment and drive. Given that the brain was the largest erogenous zone, she was sure intellectual stimulation was just as vital as clitoral stimulation in achieving sexual satisfaction.

At least, she’d been pretty sure. It was damn hard to test a theory if all the guys she dated had the sexual skills of a ninth-grade nerd with a National Geographic fetish.

It was enough to make a woman question her hypothesis. To say nothing of her ability to ever have a decent sex life.

“Okay, so the sex has been a little, well, lousy. But don’t give up on men,” Nikki said, breaking through Dru’s dismal realizations with forced cheer. “What about Kyle, that new guy in the lab? He’s cute, in a horn-rimmed sort of way.”

Dru was shaking her head before Nikki even finished the sentence.

“He’s also a coworker. You know how Dr. Shelby feels about fraternization. If I started dating, or worse, having lousy sex, with the guys here, word would get around. It’d haunt me. My private life would be fodder for the water cooler chitchat. And any success I have, people would wonder who I slept with to get there.”

Nikki gave her a long look, trying to poke a hole in that excuse. Finally she shrugged and said, “We don’t have water coolers.”

Dru rolled her eyes.

“Look, why don’t you quit the geeks and go for a hottie?” Nikki suggested, wiping her mouth before opening a bag of corn chips. Dru’s mouth watered. Whether it was over the chips or the visual of hottie-sex, she didn’t know.

Ignoring the drool collecting in the corners of her lips, she reminded herself of the five pounds she’d been trying to lose since New Year’s and said, “Because boredom makes for poor foreplay?”

Which she knew firsthand, since the last three guys she’d dated had almost foreplayed her to sleep. And God knew she’d be the ultimate snoozefest to some poor guy who didn’t talk science. It went back to that shyness thing. If she was talking shop, she was fine. Social chitchat? Zzzz.

“Oh, my God, Dru. What does a guy have to do? Discuss the theory of relativity while going down on you? You need to disconnect your brain from your—”

“Okay,” Dru interrupted before Nikki could start naming parts of her anatomy. “I get your point. But I don’t agree. I really believe that unless we have common interests, there’s no point in dating or having sex—albeit lousy sex—with a guy.”

“There are other things to talk about than science, you know,” Nikki snapped, the frustration creasing her brow echoed in her tone.

Dru wasn’t about to open the door to another conversation about her social skills. The last time she’d cracked it open by mentioning that she didn’t know how to dance, Nikki had forced her to spend twelve Saturdays at dance clubs. Talk about misery squared.

“Look, even if I wanted to research alternate dating pools, when do I have time?” she protested, her tone making it clear she’d rather be staked naked to the astronomy tower during a public meteor-shower tour.

“You know I’m already working fifty hours a week. I help my mom on weekends. The cosmic string project starts next month and as soon as—” not if, she refused to consider failure “—I get the grant, I’ll be so busy I won’t have time to masturbate, let alone date.”

“A woman always has time to masturbate,” Nikki intoned.

Dru shrugged, waving her carrot stick in surrender before snapping off a bite.

“Sooo…” Nikki drew the word out as she carefully wiped her fingers on a napkin.

“So… What?” Dru asked, not liking the glint in her friend’s chocolate-brown eyes.

“So, I have an idea.”

Just as she would if a student was about to pitch a half-baked astrological theory, Dru folded her hands on the table, arched her brow and gave Nikki a patient, you-are-probably-insane look.

“Take a vacation.”

The knots in Dru’s shoulders unwound. Well, that wasn’t too crazy.

“Someplace totally away from here, completely relaxing and extremely decadent.”

A vision of sand, surf and sun filled her imagination. Wouldn’t that be glorious?

“Mmm, maybe I’ll book a cruise or something this summer,” Dru murmured. An entire week filled with strappy sandals, rich food and sarong-covered bikinis while she read by the water. Heaven. “I’ve always wanted to visit Cancún. Or maybe the Bahamas.”

“No. Now. Next week, before your schedule turns crazy with the grant interviews and the guest lecturer and this upcoming project that will bury you in seventy-hour weeks.”

Unspoken was Nikki’s belief that Dru would make excuses and not take a vacation. But the message was clear in the stubborn set of her jaw.

Before Dru could talk her off the lunatic-ledge, Glenn Shelby, Trifecta’s director, bounced into the lunchroom. The older man was the epitome of enthusiasm, always. His nothing-is-impossible attitude was supposed to be an inspiration to his teams. Most of them wanted to spike his morning fruit smoothie with sleeping pills.

Dru’s gaze jumped from his face to the stubborn glee on Nikki’s, then back to their boss, who was offering his usual chipper lunch greeting.

“No,” she mouthed at Nikki, tension wrapping tight over her shoulders. The road to success was not lined with spur-of-the-moment vacation requests or inconveniences to the boss.

Nikki, of course, ignored her.

“Glenn, Dru needs a vacation.”

“Vacation? Now?”

Well, that had certainly punctured his enthusiastic recitation of the joys of fresh-squeezed orange juice. His words all came out in a gulp.

It was all she could do not to drop her face into her hands. With an almost silent hiss of protest, Dru glared at Nikki.

“Don’t worry about it, Dr. Shelby. I know we’re too busy right now. Nikki knows it, too.”

Nikki didn’t even have the grace to give Dru an apologetic look before shoving her off the cliff.

“Glenn, you know Dru is leading the cosmic string project that kicks off next month. It’s vital that we make a good showing for Trifecta, isn’t it?” Nikki didn’t wait for his answer, or act as if she saw the glare Dru was trying to melt her with, she just plowed ahead. “But here’s the thing. I don’t think she’s had a vacation in, oh, forever. Weren’t you just saying last week that a rested mind is an alert mind?”

The director shot Dru a measuring look through the bifocals he’d perched on his egg-shaped head. From the frown that washed over his face, his X-ray vision found her health deteriorating at a rapid pace.

“Yes, yes, good point. We want everyone in top form next month. All the departments have major projects launching, but yours is the most vital, Robichoux. After all, it’s not every year we get such a distinguished guest as A. A. Maddow as a project leader.”

Assistant leader, Dru wanted to protest. For the first time, she was project leader. But the road to success wasn’t lined with divas, either, so she sucked it up and shot Nikki an icy glare instead. Nikki grinned.

“I highly recommend Los Cabos if you’re looking for a beach setting,” Dr. Shelby said, taking his Healthy Choice lunch from the microwave and heading for the door. “A.A. himself suggested it to me when we agreed to his contract. He was right, as usual. Los Cabos was both relaxing and rejuvenating. You’ll enjoy it.”

Then he was gone, the door swinging closed with a loud swoosh.

And that was that. Dru briefly considered chasing him down and voicing her objections over his low-cal chicken à l’orange, but she knew it was pointless. After all, A. A. Maddow was the rock star of the science world. A Wolf Award nominee and brilliant physicist, he was going to be working alongside Drucilla for the next three months. His input was apparently vital, in Glenn’s mind, to both clarify her theory and convince the grant committee that a small lab like Trifecta was worthy of huge sums of money.

The director wouldn’t want to risk anyone on his staff being less than sparkling for the grand appearance.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Dru said, gathering her lunch wrappers in tight, efficient moves.

“You can thank me with a nice souvenir,” Nikki told her as she sauntered back to the table, her teeth flashing white as she grinned.

“Thank you? I want to beat you with your own corn-chip bag,” Dru snapped before she could control herself. She sucked in a deep breath, then said in her most reasonable tone, “I have responsibilities and commitments, Nikki. I don’t have time to sip margaritas and hit the beach.”

“That’s not all I want you to hit,” Nikki said with a stern frown. Dru figured that must be the look the woman used to keep her hunky new husband in line.

But Drucilla Antoinette was made of stronger stuff than that. So she just leaned back in her chair and raised a brow.

“You need a man.”

“Isn’t that where this conversation started?”

“My point exactly. You need a hot man. A hunky, yummy, no-discussion-needed, orgasm-at-first-sight man.”

Dru’s breath caught somewhere between her chest and her throat at that image.

“No, I’m only looking to relax,” she protested. Not willing to consider something as clichéd as a vacation fling, she got up to cross the room and toss her garbage away. As if she wanted to get rid of the tempting image Nikki had put in her head.

“What’s more relaxing than an uninhibited sexual escapade?” her friend asked behind her.

And where better to have a sexual escapade than far away from her day-to-day world, on vacation from work and distanced from the rules she surrounded her life with?

Dru stepped over to the sink to wash her hands. The water rushed over her, cooling flesh that suddenly felt as if it was on fire. She watched the clear liquid flow, her mind filled with pImages** of hot beach sex with a well-muscled beach bum.

“I can’t deliberately set out to have a fling,” she murmured.

“Why on earth not? You need to let go of this thing you have for only doing brainiacs, Dru. No intelligence litmus test. Just pure, sexual attraction. You find a guy who turns you on and have a week’s worth of wild monkey sex.”

“To what purpose?” Dru asked as she dried her hands, considering the ramifications of giving in to the ultimate temptation. If she did it away from the lab, nobody would see her choice. Nobody would judge her for picking a hot guy whose only purpose was to satisfy her every lusting need. She wouldn’t be deemed a sex-crazed idiot who made bad choices in the name of screaming orgasms. Her breath shuddered. God, what did a screaming orgasm actually feel like?

Dru saw the smirk on Nikki’s face and clarified, “What’s the purpose, besides sex?”

“Does there have to be another purpose? For once, go after a guy who turns you on. Not one you have to convince yourself is sexy.” Nikki gave her a wicked grin, her dimples flashing as she came over to rinse her lunch dishes. “Find a guy with the stamina to go all night. A hunky horndog who’ll worship your body.”

The image flashed, erotic and intense. A faceless young stud, his muscles oiled and gleaming in the moonlight, poised over her body as he acted out her every kinky fantasy. She swallowed and shifted, glad her lab coat covered her aching nipples. Panicked, Dru scanned the room, even though she knew nobody else was there to overhear.

This was a crazy idea. Completely insane.

So what did that say about her for even considering it?

As if she sensed Dru was weakening, Nikki laid her hand on Dru’s arm and offered a wicked smile. “Girlfriend, it’s time to find yourself a playmate.”

TWO WEEKS LATER Dru paid the taxi driver and waited while the bellboy loaded her suitcases onto a cart. She used the time to look around.

Los Cabos, Mexico. Oceanfront luxury with the charm of old-world Mexico. White sandy beaches, the Sea of Cortez, ocean breezes and beautiful tropical foliage.

Tension she hadn’t even realized she’d hoarded in her shoulders drained away. Far from the San Francisco breeze, Dru felt freer than she’d ever been. Here, nobody knew her. She didn’t have to worry about projecting the right image, about climbing the ladder or about the anchoring weight of family responsibilities that kept her pushing for success.

She was here to take a break.

Dr. Shelby had raved about both the relaxing atmosphere and the beautiful views.

And he’d been right.

When she found herself checking out the bellboy’s ass, Dru rolled her eyes. That probably wasn’t the kind of view her boss had meant.

Forcing her gaze to stay on the guy’s shoulders, broad and muscular as they were, she followed him and her luggage into the hotel to the reservations desk.

Thirty minutes later, she’d changed out of her practical travel clothes—a button-down shirt and khaki pants—and into an eye-wateringly bright floral sundress and had defiantly unbraided her long hair. The practical voice in her head argued that it’d just get tangled on the beach. She didn’t care. She figured freedom came with a few tangles.

Dru stepped out the back door of her bungalow and gasped. There, spread before her, was the most gorgeous beach she’d ever seen. Sand, soft and inviting, swept from as far as the eye could see. Beyond it the ocean, dark blue in the early-evening light, beat frothy white waves against the dull gold of the shore.

Just the sight of it filled her with a mellow sort of empowerment. Maybe it was the watercolor richness of the sky, purples bleeding into orange-tinged pink as the sun set behind the water. Or the wild intensity of the waves, their salty scent and roaring sound inviting her to come closer.

Or maybe it was just knowing she could do whatever she wanted. And what she wanted was to feel that water on her toes. Not bothering to go inside for her sandals, Dru skipped lightly down the wooden steps leading from her tiny patio to the still-warm sand.

Reveling in the feel of the tiny grains shifting around her feet, she headed straight for the water. It wasn’t until she was halfway there that she saw him.

Her heart, and her feet, stopped.

Her mouth went as dry as the sand clinging to her ankles. She didn’t blink when the soft breeze sent tendrils of her hair into her eyes, just batted it away so it didn’t interfere with her view.

Oh. My. God.

He was incredible. Like some water god, he flew over the waves. The water glistened on his golden skin like diamonds in the fading light. Arms outstretched, biceps glinting as he balanced on the deep purple surfboard. Was he real? A figment of her lusty imagination? The manifestation of her every sexual fantasy? Dru’s breath came in long, labored bursts. She was afraid to blink, fearing he’d disappear.

Her fingers itched to touch that bare chest, to run down the dusting of dark hair that perfectly highlighted his well-muscled abs. She stared as he got closer to shore, watching him shift his knees to a low crouch as he rode the wave all the way to the beach.

There was something so amazing about surfers. She’d always imagined them to be fearless. Able to embrace anything life handed them and ride it to success.

And talk about muscle control. That was the kind of guy who could rock against-a-wall sex and not drop the woman as she melted in orgasmic glory all over him.

Was he real? Or had her sex-deprived imagination conjured up the perfect man to fulfill her lusty desires?

About thirty feet away, she watched him walk across the sand. This close, she could see how young he was. Mid-twenties at the most. His dripping hair fell in inky black curls around his head, his beautiful face adding to the image of a Greek god come to life.

He stopped at the brightly decorated surf-shop bungalow, and she watched him key in a code, then open the door and store his board. His familiarity made it obvious he wasn’t a guest. Did he work at the surf shop? Or at the hotel?

Whatever he did, he was obviously out of her league. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as if a sweet young thing like him would have any interest in an almost thirty-year-old scientist with social anxieties and repressed sexual needs.

Needs she’d been perfectly fine ignoring until Nikki had gotten her all riled up over her ridiculous ideas. Dru had no idea how to flirt, how to attract a man’s attention. Especially not a man like that. No matter what Nikki had suggested, Dru wasn’t here for a fling.

Except here he was. The most incredible man she’d ever seen. A man who would definitely not stop midthrust, but know how to bring a woman to a screaming orgasm, then make her writhe and beg for more.

And then he turned. Their eyes met. Dru’s breath lodged somewhere between her aching nipples and her dry mouth. His gaze holding her captive from twenty feet away, one corner of his mouth quirked in a charmingly adorable little-boy grin.

And he walked toward her. Frozen in the sand, Drucilla didn’t know if she should pull back her shoulders, stick out her chest and smile beguilingly. Or turn on her bare heel and run like hell.

2

ALEX MADDOW GAVE a quick shake of his head, his hair flying around his face as the drops of water scattered. The exhilaration of riding the waves still surged through his body. He filled his lungs with the salty evening air and gave a deep sigh of satisfaction.

There was nothing like surfing at sunset. The colors of the sky, the feel of the cooling air as it whipped around his body while he flew over the water. Incredible was the only word for it. God, he felt great.

Then he saw her. There, a glowing jewel against the pristine white adobe of the hotel. Talk about incredible. Simply stunning. Despite the aftereffects of the cold water, he stirred in hardening awareness. pImages** flooded his mind of naked bodies, breathy moans and exquisite pleasure.

He was never a man to deny his sexual needs, but Alex usually knew the woman’s name before he planned the many different ways he’d enjoy her body. Then again, he’d never experienced this intense, instantaneous lust-at-first-sight reaction to a woman before, either.

His eyes narrowed. She reminded him of one of those elfish princesses his mother used to read him stories about—the ones he’d always fallen in love with. Tall and slender, and her angular face commanded attention. Silvery-blond hair waved around her shoulders in a silken cape. The demureness of the cut of her calf-length sundress was at odds with the vivid turquoise-and-pink pattern. Bare toes curled sensually in the sand.

A slow smile of anticipation curved Alex’s lips. It was as if it was meant to be. From one exhilarating ride to the temptation of another. Never let it be said that Albert Alexander Maddow didn’t appreciate opportunity when fate placed it right in front of him. Especially an opportunity that stole his breath away, filling his mind with sexual challenge.

Through wasting time, he strode across the sand toward her, shoving his wet curls off his face as he moved. The closer he got, the more intrigued he was. Not because of her looks, but because of the look she was giving him. As though she couldn’t decide if he was a crazed ax murderer or how he’d taste covered in chocolate.

From the set of her chin and the way she shifted her body, lifting one shoulder and crossing her arms over her chest, she obviously figured she could handle either option. Alex grinned. There was nothing sexier than a confident woman.

And she was even better up close. Her brows, shades darker than her hair, slashed a strong arch over eyes so blue they were almost the same purple as the sunset. Her mouth was narrow, the upper lip heavier than the lower. He wanted to nibble on that lip, to run his tongue over it and see if it was as delicious as it looked.

Had he ever been so intensely, instantly attracted to a woman? Alex couldn’t recall and didn’t care. After all, the only thing that mattered was this moment and this woman.

Until the moment was over.

“Gorgeous,” he commented when he was a couple feet away from her. Her features didn’t add up to pretty individually, but put together, they were stunning. His fingers ached to trace the line of her throat down to the gentle swell of flesh pressing against the vivid floral cotton of her dress.

“The surf?” she asked after a brief hesitation. Even her voice was sexy. Low and husky, at odds with her ethereal appearance.

“The view,” he clarified, sensing that she wouldn’t appreciate surfeit flirtation. A man who prided himself on his intuition as much as his brains, he reined in his instinct to hit hard.

She obviously wasn’t fooled, though. She arched one brow, then glanced over his shoulder. He followed her gaze, taking in the watercolor beauty of the sunset. As always, the sight centered him. The ever-changing transformations of the sea never failed to fill his soul with peace.

She got that, he realized as his gaze traced the lines of her face. She didn’t look like a woman used to peace, but one who did appreciate it when it was there in front of her.

“It must feel amazing to be a part of that,” she said with a nod of her chin toward the pounding sea. She acted as if she wasn’t aware of his attraction, but the stiffness of her shoulders and slight step she took backward told him otherwise.

She didn’t leave, though. Which said it all, in his mind.

“Do you surf?” he asked, already knowing the answer. She had that romantic, wouldn’t-it-be-an-adventure look in her eyes. Not that surfing wasn’t both romantic and adventurous. But when a surfer looked at the sea, there was always an underlying layer of respect.

“I never have surfed before, no,” she said, her gaze meeting his again. There was a summing-up, a calculation in her eyes. He recognized the look. Felt the sexual pull of it tugging at him. It was the kind of expression that said she wondered how he’d look without his swim trunks and could he keep it up long enough to make her scream with pleasure.

Then, as if realizing he’d caught the look, she blinked. Color, soft pale pink, swept over her cheeks. But she didn’t drop her gaze. Almost defiantly, she kept those indigo eyes on his.

A slow, challenging grin spread over his face. He would enjoy showing her both the view and his talents.

“Surfing is like sex,” he told her softly. “An intense ride on a lover that knows how to push you to your limits, then bring you back to earth with a gentle kiss and an invitation to ride again.”

He waited to see if she’d blush a second time.

“You don’t say.” Her sharp cheekbones blush free, she gave him a long, cool look, then shook her head. “Somehow I doubt that tempting promise of pleasure is quite the same for a beginner. I’d imagine there’s a lot more flailing around, falling and inhaling seawater.”

“Not if you have the right teacher,” he assured her, taking a small step closer. The sand shifted under his bare feet. He inhaled deeply. Her perfume filled his senses, even from a foot away. Was it stronger along her throat? If he buried his face in the curve, just where her breasts started to swell, would it overwhelm him?

“I might look into surf lessons while I’m here,” she evaded, not taking the sex-talk bait.

“I’ll teach you.”

She gave a nervous little laugh, the sound saying she’d just bet he would. A shutter dropped, her expression chilling almost as much as his body as the evening breeze teased the water still coating his skin.

“It’s okay,” he assured her, figuring she was smart to ice up. He was a stranger, after all. For now. “The Surf Shack is a part of the hotel’s offering. I teach for them.”

She didn’t appear to be reassured. Not sure why, Alex put on his safest, most trustworthy face. The kind he hoped seemed nonthreatening. Even though he wanted to go in the opposite direction, he took a tiny step back. He instantly missed the scent of her perfume, flowery and rich, over the salty scent of the ocean.

“You can check at the hotel. Just ask anyone about Alex and surfing. They’ll vouch for me.” He was pretty sure the last time he’d come this close to begging a woman to spend time with him occurred when he was sixteen and trying to find a date to his first college formal.

Still, she hesitated. Her gaze slid from his face to the Surf Shack, a tiny frown furrowing the alabaster skin between those deep blue eyes.

He saw the refusal on her lips.

“Just say maybe,” he suggested before she could say anything.

Humor flashed in those stunning eyes and she raised one brow, then shrugged.

“Maybe,” she murmured. Then, without another word, not even a yes-I-want-to-do-you-until-we-both-get-sand-burns look, she turned away.

He watched her go, rubbing a hand over the bruised ache in his chest and wondering what the hell had just happened. He felt as if he’d been smacked upside the head with his board in a total wipeout disaster—exhilarated, confused and wondering if he’d done permanent damage.

Crazy, he told himself. Women were many things. Alluring, captivating, desirable. They were fun, felt incredible and made perfect temporary companions. But dangerous?

He shook his head, his damp curls falling over his eyes a reminder that he’d better get them cut before he reported in for his real job at the end of the month.

Dangerous, he thought again. Nah.

There was nothing risky about making time with a stunning blonde who had a yen to learn the magic of the ocean. The only thing at stake was a little time and the possibility of some righteously awesome sex.

SITTING AT THE HOTEL’S dining patio basking in the sunshine the next morning, Dru sipped her coffee. The rich aroma filled her senses. Dark, robust and strong. The perfect accompaniment to her decadent breakfast—stuffed French toast, chorizo and spicy fried potatoes.

All favorites, all bad for her. Exactly what she needed to start this vacation right, she thought with a sigh as she set her coffee cup down. Especially after waking from the most incredibly hot, orgasmic dream she’d ever experienced.

Vivid pImages** of her and the gorgeous man from the beach doing it in wicked abandon on his surfboard filled her mind. She shifted in her wicker chair and wished the waiter would come over and refill her ice water. She definitely needed to cool off.

She hadn’t been able to get the sexy surf god out of her mind, and obviously her subconscious had put his image and all Nikki’s talk about vacation flings together and served her up a montage of sensual impressions. Since the dream-induced orgasm had rocked, she wasn’t going to knock it.

A chorus of greetings, in both English and Spanish, rang out along the edge of the dining patio. Dru pulled her attention away from the ocean to glance at the commotion.

As if her musings had conjured him, the sexy surf god of her dreams sauntered up the tile steps and greeted both guests and hotel staff.

Dru’s breath tripped, her pulse racing. He was even better in sunlight. She’d spent half the night telling herself it was the romance of the surf and moonlight that had made him look like a Greek god. That, and the mostly naked expanse of delicious male flesh she’d been mesmerized by.

But no, even with that gorgeous chest covered by a pristine white T-shirt, he was still the tastiest-looking thing she’d seen all morning. She took a sip of her water, needing to wet her lips and afraid to add any more caffeine to her already racing heart rate.

He seemed familiar with everyone. Obviously he’d been telling the truth when he’d said he worked for the hotel. She shifted in her chair, trying to ease the building pressure between her suddenly damp thighs.

As if she were sitting at the table, Nikki’s voice chimed in Drucilla’s head: Go for it. He’s hot, he’s sexy. He’s perfect vacation-fling material.

Just like the night before, she didn’t know if she should listen to the voice—and her body’s urgings—or run like hell.

Then his eyes met hers. He murmured something to the people circling him. Then, a wide, wicked grin on his face, he crossed the patio. A tilt of his chin toward the waiter had him a cup of coffee before he reached her table.

“May I join you?” he asked,

Nerves, from both sexual awareness and her ever-present shyness, flooded her system. Despite the little voice urging her to run, she waved her hand toward the empty seat across from her in invitation.

“I didn’t introduce myself last night. I’m Alex,” he said, sliding into the chair and helping himself to one of the blueberry muffins in the basket on her table.

“Drucilla,” she said, automatically offering her hand to shake.

Mistake, she realized as he took her fingers in his. Warmth, with its hypnotically sexy pull, poured from his palm into hers. Her body tried to melt, right there into his hand. A puddle of lust over the breakfast table.

No, not going there, she scolded herself as she tugged her hand away. Needing to cool off at the thought, she reached for her ice water.

“Did you sleep well, Drucilla?”

Had he peeked into her mind to know she’d tossed and turned in sweaty homage to the dream orgasm he’d given her? She almost choked on her water. Calling herself silly, Dru brushed the thought aside and gave him a little shrug and a smile.

“I rarely sleep easily my first night after traveling,” she excused.

“You should have let me help,” he told her, popping the second half of the muffin into his mouth.

“Somehow I think your help would have done more to keep me up than make me sleep,” she said with a nervous laugh. He was actually flirting with her. Excitement spun through her system, its rapid trajectory hindered by the terror flying along with it.

“Oh, no, intense physical exertion is excellent for bringing on deep sleep. Didn’t you know that?”

His grin was a dare. She knew it. Even though she didn’t have a chance in hell of handling the dare, she still couldn’t resist.

“I’d heard the rumor. But from what I understand,” she said, leaning forward, both hands clenched—in both nerves and excitement—in her lap, “the exertion has to actually be good. Mediocre is just a lesson in frustration, isn’t it?”

“Mediocre isn’t even worth doing,” he agreed. His eyes had dropped, just for a second, to her breasts. Hotter than the overhead sun, they warmed her. Filled her with sexual power like she’d never experienced. It felt…incredible.

“My point exactly,” she said.

“Well, there you go,” he returned with a wicked grin. “You should have let me help.”

“And how do I know you’re good?” she challenged, unsure where the nerve to flirt was coming from. But since she seemed to be doing it right, she wasn’t about to question the gift.

“References, of course.”

Dru couldn’t help it, she burst out laughing. She knew he wanted her to think he was talking about sex. And she figured on one level, they were. What would he do if she called his bluff? Not sure she was ready to find out, she played it safe instead.

“Of course,” she said as if his response was perfectly reasonable.

“You can always take me up on it tonight,” he offered. The look on his face was pure sexual challenge. Dru knew damn well he could rise to the challenge, too. In every sense. This was a guy who didn’t need the likes of Albert Einstein to get his groove on.

“I’m not sure yet that I’m interested in learning to surf,” she told him, ending the double-entendre exchange with an apologetic little shrug.

His quick frown said he hadn’t been ready for it to end, though.

“Is this a game?” he asked, his expression pleasant. But she still heard the hint of irritation in his tone.

“I don’t play games.”

Alex laughed, his amusement lightly tinged with disbelief.

She leaned back in her chair, resting one elbow on the arm, and arched an inquiring brow. The look she gave him demanded an explanation.

After all, he was the one who’d plopped himself down at her table and helped himself to her muffin.

His laughter trailed off. He gave her a long stare, his dark eyes narrowed in contemplation. “I’m sorry. I guess I’m a little confused. I’m not used to such unclear signals from a woman. I’m obviously interested in you. I’d like to spend some time together, get to know you better. Much, much better.”

Dru’s heart pounded, a tingling kind of fear moving through her body. So much for beating around the bush. Alex was the most direct, in-her-face man she’d ever met.

It only made him sexier.

“I thought that’s what we were doing.” Although clearly not as much as he, or she, for that matter, would like.

“You know what I mean,” he said, brushing aside her socially correct reply.

Dru bit her lip. Wasn’t this proof perfect that she shouldn’t try to socialize outside her milieu? Give her a brainiac, a science buff, even an amateur astronomer, she’d be fine. But a hunky guy with eyes like melted chocolate and a body worthy of a god? Throw in enough sexual tension to send a nun running for a cold shower, a misguided attempt at flirtation and what did you get? Her, feeling like a turned-on, embarrassed idiot with her pretty, floral wedge sandal stuck right there in her big mouth.

Not sure what to do about the irritation suddenly overshadowing the desire he’d sparked in her body, Drucilla tapped her fingers on the table.

“So, what?” she finally asked, figuring she’d blown it anyway so she might as well just be herself. “If a woman doesn’t drop at your feet the instant she meets you, she’s playing a game?”

An appreciative look flashed in his dark eyes, but he kept his face straight.

“Maybe not at my feet,” he teased. “But usually there’s a definite decision about whether she wants to pursue the possibility of getting better acquainted. As a rule, people know instantly if they’re interested or not. Whether they’ll choose to act on that interest is another thing, of course. And that’s where the game usually comes in.”

Dru frowned. Not over his reference to his easy conquests. That was no surprise. But at his words. They were pretty deep for a surf instructor. Then she mentally smacked herself for making such a snobbish judgment call.

“I assure you, my taking my time to decide on what I want isn’t a game,” she said, guilt over her thoughts making her tone more apologetic than she’d intended.

His grin, fast and sexy, told her he was more than willing to take advantage of that opening.

“What can I do to help you make up your mind?” he offered, leaning forward and putting his hand over hers as it rested on the glass table. Sparks flared. Hot, intense and almost overpowering. Energy, purely sexual, raced through her system. Her nipples beaded in instant response. If he could turn her on this easily, with just a look and a touch, what could he do to her body if she let him? And what the hell was she waiting for to find out?

Dru tried to regulate her breathing. She could tell he knew damned well the effect he had on her. The question was, what effect did she have on him? And how could she make sure it was an even exchange? Although she sucked at flirting, she wasn’t totally insecure. But neither was she stupid. Alex was a gorgeous, charismatic man, he could have any woman he wanted. Since they had nothing in common, why was he hitting on her so hard?

And could she handle it if she gave in to her body’s demands? If her flirtation skills were dismal, her sexual skills were even worse. The chances of humiliation were high. Was it worth it? She looked at Alex again and sighed. Oh, yeah. She was pretty sure it was.

Pretty sure. But not positive. Needing time to think it through, she took her napkin from her lap and set it on the table.

“You’re leaving?” The disappointment in his words was echoed in his expression. His eyes clearly said she’d let him down. Whether it was because he’d miss her or because she wasn’t playing those games he’d referred to, she wasn’t sure.

“I have some things I need to take care of,” she said honestly—she considered thinking this through to be a very necessary something to take care of. “Since we’ve run into each other twice already in the eighteen hours I’ve been here, I’m sure I’ll see you again.”

When she did, she planned on having all her thinking finished. One way or another, she promised herself as she murmured her goodbye and swung her tote bag over her shoulder, she’d be ready for action.

ALEX WATCHED Drucilla walk away, her tidy plait of silvery hair swishing between her bare shoulder blades. Her refusal to play confused him. He’d learned his lesson young and well. Everyone, men and women, played. Hers must be a new game. One he hadn’t been dealt yet. He’d figure out the rules fast enough, he was sure. “Wipeout?”

Alex quit his contemplation of Drucilla’s hips as she turned the corner back to her bungalow to glance at his friend. Juan was dressed in waiter’s whites, obviously filling in to help out his parents, who owned the hotel.

“I’m still paddling,” Alex quipped with a shrug. He pushed away from the table and helped Juan gather the plates and debris. “You up for hitting some waves this afternoon?”

Juan smirked at the change of subject, but he knew Alex well enough to know his friend didn’t brag about women. Not while pursuing them, not while doing them, not after kissing them goodbye when it was over. Alex’s momma had a saying—wherever he put his privates was meant to stay private.

And Alex always listened to his momma.

“We’re short staffed,” Juan said with a morose sigh as he glanced at the surfers already riding the waves.

Alex made a sympathetic sound. There was a perfect example of why he played his life so carefully. Nothing shackled a guy faster than commitments. Not that Alex blew off his responsibilities or shirked favors. He’d been raised knowing his obligations. Three generations of excellence preceded him, and he knew better than to disappoint his family.

Which was fine. He loved what he did. That was why his career was the only thing he allowed himself to commit to. And he’d arranged his life so that commitment still let him live exactly the way he wanted.

“You up for teaching some surfer wannabes this afternoon?” Juan asked as he wiped the table clean, then moved his tray to the next one. “You’re covering for Manuel, right?”

“From siesta to eight,” Alex confirmed. Juan’s cousin Manuel ran the Surf Shack and had gone to Cozumel for the week to celebrate his abuela’s hundredth birthday. He had a couple kids to take care of the shack, but nobody to give lessons while he was away. Since teaching was right up Alex’s alley, he’d offered to help out. On a limited basis.

“And will you be offering private lessons to the pretty blonde?” Juan teased, as always trying to break through Alex’s typical reticence when it came to women.

“Maybe,” Alex murmured. He caught a glimpse of electric blue and saw Drucilla making her way down the beach. A large beach bag partially concealed her vivid dress, and a huge, floppy hat covered her glorious hair.

“I chatted with her when I was taking her order,” Juan continued, not noticing Alex’s attention shift. “She’s a smart lady. You’ll be able to talk to her about anything. Unlike that surf Betty you were with last time you were here. I think her IQ was smaller than her bra size.”

Juan had a bias. He called any woman who competed with him on the waves a surf Betty. Alex frowned, trying to remember his last visit, eight months ago. Then it hit him. Pretty brunette, good surfer, total beach bunny.

He grimaced. Yeah, she hadn’t been the brightest. But she’d been amazing on a surfboard. On and off the waves, he remembered with an amused smile. But still, a guy liked to be able to actually converse with the woman he was with once in a while.

Few people on Los Cabos knew what Alex did in the ten months out of the year that he wasn’t here surfing. Not that he was ashamed of his career. He was a damn good scientist. He’d excelled early and often, graduating college at the age most people started. A prodigy, he’d learned young to set a goal, work his ass off and make every move count. Hell, he’d earned every accolade right on down the list, all the way to his Wolf Award. As had been expected.

But that was work. And this wasn’t.

“I’m on vacation,” Alex excused. Besides, he never talked about his other life when he was here. He came to Los Cabos to rejuvenate. To maintain balance and stay connected to what mattered.

“She asked about you. Wanted to know what you did around here,” Juan said slyly.

Alex’s gaze flew to his friend’s face. He took in the grin, white against dark skin, and the humor dancing in Juan’s brown eyes.

“What’d you tell her?”

“That she should talk to you personally.”

Alex grinned.

“She said she’d rather not.”

His smile fell away. Then he snickered at his own ego. Hey, a woman like Dru, one who took a little extra effort to catch, was always worth the time and energy.

“Do me a favor,” he said. “If she asks again, continue keeping it on the down low.”

“So you’re gonna lie to her?”

Truly shocked at the suggestion, Alex glared at his friend. “Of course not. I’m simply doing what I always do. Living in the moment. And in this moment, I’m teaching surfing and she’s on vacation.”

Juan smirked as he lifted his tray to his shoulder. Then he nodded toward the path Dru had taken. “You always say you’re living in the moment, amigo. Someday you’re going to meet a woman who makes you dream of tomorrow.”

Alex just chuckled and slapped Juan on the shoulder as he passed by. No point in disillusioning the guy, after all. For all Alex’s Zen approach to life, he was a realist. While he loved the concept of romance as much as the next guy and adored women in all their glory, he knew better than to think that forever and commitment were part of his vocabulary.

But a few days, the surf and the sunset?

He watched Drucilla spread her towel on the oversize beach chair cushion, then straighten. Her back was to him, but he could tell she’d crossed her arms over her belly. With a quick tug she pulled the electric-blue dress off, shaking her head to free her hair again. He watched the silvery-blond braid slide along her back and imagined his fingers combing through that silken length. His mouth pressing warm, soft kisses to those toned shoulders.

His gaze traced her back, bare now except for the strap of her purple bikini. Mouth dry, he took in the slender curve of her waist, the gentle swell of her hips. And those legs. His heart raced as if he was cresting a wave. What would those legs feel like wrapped around his hips? Those long legs anchoring him tightly as he drove into the wonder of her body?

Alex’s breath whooshed out in a jagged sigh.

Yeah. A few days, the surf and the sunset. He’d be sharing all of them with Drucilla and loving every second of it. Better yet, he’d make damn sure she loved it, too.

3

SIX HOURS LATER, Dru bit her lip, a giddy sort of terror fluttering down her back like a teasing breeze. She was crazy to be doing this. A million rational arguments competed for center stage in her mind, all telling her that she should turn heel in the sand and head right back up the dune to her bungalow.

The practical scientist in her gave a patient sigh. It wasn’t as if this was going to be dangerous. It was a controlled environment with a set time limit. She was entering into the experiment with a solid, well-thought-out hypothesis.

The horny woman in her gave a disdainful eye roll. Enough with the bullshit excuses already. She was solidly in lust with Alex, and he was exactly what Nikki had suggested. A fling. The answer to all her sexual frustrations. The kind of guy who could go all night, making her gasp and writhe and scream.

She really, really wanted to gasp and writhe and scream.

After all, this was vacation. Wild sexual romps were practically required, right? It didn’t matter that she didn’t know much about him. Or that they wouldn’t have anything to talk about. Nerdy her and a hunky surfer? No common ground at all. She was pretty sure she had other uses for his mouth, though. And she’d be back at work, with plenty of people to talk to soon enough.

She should just go for it, she thought as her stomach tumbled over itself and nerves made her light-headed.

“C’mon, you know you want to do it,” Alex teased, the grin curving his gorgeous sun-kissed face telling her he knew she was arguing with herself over the surfing lesson. A lesson she’d been second-guessing for the last hour, ever since she’d met him at the Surf Shack to get started.

Hopefully he didn’t know the details of her internal argument, though. Or that she’d be taking him up on a lot more than just the white-and-blue-striped board he was offering. Although, from his wicked grin, he very well might know exactly what she’d been thinking.

He stood there in the late-afternoon light, two surfboards stuck in the sand, one on either side of him. This section of beach was mostly deserted, the nearest people tiny pImages** at the far end of the hotel. The sun was hot, the breeze a bare wisp of air and Alex was gorgeous.

His muscles glinted in the sunshine, the light scent of sunscreen mixing with the salt of the ocean. His simple blue trunks rode low on his hips. Her gaze trailed over the dusting of hair on his chest, gliding down his belly like an arrow pointing the way to ecstasy.

She’d have to be an idiot to walk away.

“I do want to do it,” she said in a breathless rush, committing to a lot more than the lesson.

As if he realized that, the grin slid off Alex’s face. His dark eyes narrowed, taking on a smoldering look of concentration. The heat of that gaze washed over her, more intense than the rays of the afternoon sun. Her breath quickened. She sucked in her bottom lip, nibbling on the soft flesh and wondering if they could toss aside the pretense of surfing and just go back to her bungalow.

“C’mon,” he invited instead of following it up, though. Maybe the lurking terror in her gaze made him hesitate. “It’s time. We’ve already waxed the boards and gone over the basics. The next step is to hit the water.”

Nerves, this time having nothing to do with the sexual tension filling the air, jumped in Dru’s stomach. She eyed the seven-foot-long surfboard. Then she glanced at the vivid blue water of the Sea of Cortez.

“Maybe we should go over the safety rules again,” she said faintly.

Alex smiled and rubbed a reassuring hand up and down her bare arm. His touch melted her fear with an onslaught of lust. Dru’s breath hitched. A look of wicked pleasure crossed Alex’s face.

He trailed his hand up and down her arm again, but this time the move was slower. Softer. More tempting. Dru’s heart skipped a beat, then tumbled so fast she could feel it pounding against the slick fabric of her sedate one-piece swimsuit.

His fingers traced down again, leaving a heated path in their wake. He moved closer. Just one step. That’s all it took to fill her senses with him. His body’s warmth. His scent. His sexual energy.

The whole world narrowed as that energy engulfed her. The sound of the surf, the heat of the sun, they faded. She stared up at his face, the olive skin and high cheekbones. His full lower lip, perfect for nibbling.

Without realizing it, her tongue slipped out to touch her upper lip. The desire in his midnight eyes intensified. But he didn’t move. Dru wasn’t sure if he was holding back to torture her or if he was too much of a gentleman to hit on a student.

So any moves were up to her. Her. The woman whose last successful hit on a guy had involved a lame joke about the periodic table. Dru’s heart sank to join the stressed-out butterflies bouncing around in her belly.

Taking the chickenshit route, she leaned backward instead of forward. Her body screamed in fury at the denial of pleasure. As always, though, her mind was stronger. And her mind was warning her that if she didn’t learn to surf, she’d fall all over Alex, do wildly unspeakable things to his body, roll off with a gasp and realize she wouldn’t have a damn thing to say to him other than thank-you.

And while she had great hopes of plenty of orgasms to thank him for, the practical scientist in her insisted that they find some common ground to discuss between sexual bouts.

At least, that was her pathetic excuse.

“I guess I know the rules well enough,” she murmured.

He gave her a brief, inscrutable look, then gestured to the sea.

“You’ll catch on quickly once we get started.” He arched his brow, making it obvious he was talking about more than just surfing. “This part of the beach gets the smaller waves, it’s pretty mellow. Perfect for getting the feel of the board.”

A long, rocky spit of land separated this bit of water from the vastness of the rest of the sea. Here, the water was much calmer, the waves babies compared to the huge breakers crashing off to the left of the rocks.

She wasn’t reassured. She was a hardly an athlete. Sure, she could swim. But she was more at home in a pool than the sea. The alternative was mind-blowing, meaningless sex. The sex sounded so much better than surfing, but a girl had to have some standards.

“Okay, let’s do it,” she said. Then she winced.

Alex just laughed. A loud, booming sound that melded perfectly with the pounding surf.

Relieved that he didn’t seem to hold her hesitation against her, Dru picked up the surfboard he indicated. It was too wide to fit under her arm the way he carried his, so she followed his instructions and—feeling more clumsy than sexy—carried it balanced on her head.

“Wouldn’t this be better earlier in the day?” she asked, struggling to balance the board while her feet sank into the shifting sands as she followed him down to the shore.

“Nah, this is the perfect time. Everyone is still at siesta, so it’s quiet. Besides, I have the feeling you’ll be a quick study. We’ll get through the basics and I’ll bet you’re on the board by this evening. There’s nothing like surfing at sunset.”

“Like you were last night?” She gave him a curious glance, wondering at a life filled with such trouble-free pleasures. How did he stand the simplicity of it? Was that as much a part of his appeal as his gorgeous face and broad shoulders? That easygoing attitude so at odds with her own life. “Do you surf every sunset?”

“As many as I can,” he admitted, glancing out at the Sea of Cortez with a look of pleasure on his face. Much as she’d stare at the stars in the night sky or a sexy man’s naked body. Joyous, contented appreciation.

Dru wanted to feel that. That simple confidence evidenced in Alex’s look. As if he saw the challenges and not only accepted them but longed to meet them head-on. But most of all, that he knew perfectly well he was up to whatever came his way.

For a woman who had to give herself pep talks on a daily basis, that look was like a drug she craved.

Then he shifted his attention, studying her. The warm appreciation remained in his eyes, along with a healthy dose of lusty interest. Dru had never had anyone look at her like that. As if the idea of being with her made him happy, horny and amused all at the same time.

And that was even more tempting than the confidence he showed facing the surf’s wild challenge.

Suddenly determined to somehow capture both Alex’s confidence and his admiration, she drew her shoulders back and lifted her chin for the last three steps through the sand.

When they reached the water’s edge, he indicated that she should attach the leg leash to her left foot. Then she lifted the board again and followed him into the sea.

Dru gasped at the chill of the water compared to the warmth of the beach. Alongside Alex, she waded out until the water reached her hips, then, trying to mimic his easy movement, pulled herself onto the surfboard.

“Let’s paddle out past the first break,” he told her, his voice just under a shout to be heard over the crashing of the waves. “Remember how I told you to cup your hands? Like you’re swimming.”

Swimming was a lot easier, Dru decided after a couple of minutes. Belly flat on the board, she struggled against the waves pushing her one way while the undertow tugged her another. She eyed the round, rock-hard muscles of Alex’s biceps as he paddled, and realized that he probably didn’t have to use weights for his fantastic physique.

Her arms burning, Dru kept her eyes on him, squinting against the spray of salt water peppering her face. Like the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, he was her reward for the suffering her body was now experiencing. Maybe she should have spent more time talking to him before going along with this mad surfing idea. They had to have some area of common interest.

A wave slapped her in the face, making her gasp at the sting. Breathing and walking upright were better common ground than this, she decided with a low growl.

“Here’s good,” Alex called to her over his shoulder. He shifted, pushing up into a sitting position to straddle the board. “C’mon up.”

Abandoning any semblance of grace or even strength, Dru wiggled until she was straddling her board, too.

“You’re like those people who run marathons for entertainment, aren’t you?” she accused.

His grin flashed, but Alex shook his head. “Nah. I’ve never been much into group events. The idea of someone slapping a number on my chest and telling me what direction to aim my feet holds no appeal.”

Now that she wasn’t paddling her ass off, Dru was able to catch her breath and look around. Her chest was still heaving from the exertion, but she was blown away at the beauty of the view. Water, everywhere. Brilliant blue, fading to pale white where it washed up on the deep gold sand of the beach. All around, the water seemed to blend into the sky. It felt as if she were being held on the edge of heaven. Despite her labored breath and screaming muscles, a sense of peace washed over her.

“It’s amazing out here,” she said softly.

“You get it,” he said, his tone low but delighted. As if talking too loudly would desecrate the serenity of the moment. “No matter what is going on in my life, when I come out here, I know I can deal with it.”

Dru tilted her head, blinking against the sun reflecting off the water. “The sea gives you strength?”

“In a way.” His tone was contemplative, and he looked out at the water as he might a lover. “More like I realize out here that so much is beyond my control. It lets me see how unimportant some things are, and how vital others might be.”

Then, as if he were shaking the water out of his hair, he tossed off the philosophical mantle that was starting to fascinate Dru and glanced over his shoulder.

“And then there’s the whole man versus nature thing, too,” he said with a grin, nodding to indicate the wave building behind them. “Once you get the hang of being one with the ocean, you know how strong you are.”

Dru followed his gaze, her eyes going huge and her stomach diving down to Davy Jones’s locker. She gulped, wondering if she could ride the wave belly down. It was bound to hurt less.

“Remember what I taught you,” Alex said, already flattening his body on the board. His toes were tucked under, his hands gripping the sides of the board. “Paddle with the wave until you feel it build, then push up to your feet and squat. Keep your knees loose, focus on your core.”

Ever the good student, Dru followed his directions. As if her biceps and shoulders weren’t still aching from her earlier abuse, she paddled like hell, feeling the water swell beneath the board.

Half terrified, half numb, she watched Alex and mimicked his moves. As the wave built, she grabbed the sides of her board. Her heart pounding, she pushed up and tugged her feet beneath her as if she was doing a jumping-jack push-up. She pried her fingers from the board and stood, knees bent, arms outstretched for balance.

Already riding the wave, Alex glanced over to make sure she was okay. He shot her a huge smile and a thumbs-up.

A satisfied kind of lust settled in Dru’s churning stomach. Yes. She’d done it. In that moment, for one brief second, she knew she could handle anything life threw her way.

Thirty minutes later, Dru followed Alex’s directions and headed for the beach. She reached the shore and unhooked the tether from her ankle before rolling off the board.

The most incredible energy coursed through her body, filling her with an excitement and freedom like she’d never felt before. Unable to lift the board in her quivering arms, she dragged it out of the water with her. Breathless, she clambered up the beach. She only made it about ten steps toward the Surf Shack and couldn’t resist any longer. She plunged the board into the sand. Then she threw her arms out as if to embrace the magic of the experience and turned in a circle with a laugh.

“Oh, my God,” she breathed. “That’s like heaven.”

Talk about exhilarating. It was the best sex she’d ever had, a chocolate binge and the view from the top of the Grand Canyon all rolled into one fabulous surge of delight. She watched Alex stride out of the sea, looking once again like a modern-day water god.

The laughter still dancing on her lips, her breath hitched at the intensity in his eyes. He wasn’t laughing with her. He was staring at her as if she was the most incredible sight he’d ever seen. The edible kind, as if he was starving and had to take a bite. Her smile fell away, her chest rising and falling with her quick breaths.

He didn’t even bother to stick his board in the sand. He just tossed it aside and strode forward. Dru’s heart tumbled over itself, it was racing so fast. Heat flared deep in her belly, so hot she wondered why her wet swimsuit wasn’t steaming.

He stopped a few inches away. Close enough for her to smell the sea overlaying his own rich, masculine scent. His hair hung in wet curls around his face, droplets of water trailing down his throat. Over his collarbone. Onto his chest. Her mouth watered. She wanted to trace that water with her tongue. Would it taste salty like the sea? Or would she taste him?

She had to know.

Just as she took a step forward, Alex reached out and cupped his hands on either side of her head. Dru’s body melted at the powerful move, her nipples beading in supplication against the tight, wet fabric of her swimsuit. He tilted her head back. His body pressed into hers, his arousal hard and obvious behind the wet cotton of his trunks as it pushed against her belly.

Before she could do more than register a surprised oh of pleasure at how hard and long he felt, his mouth took hers.

It was like surfing. Exhilarating, dangerous, addictive. His lips slid, soft and sweet, over hers. He molded her mouth gently before his tongue traced her bottom lip. She gave a sigh at how perfect it all felt.

Then he shifted. She had no idea how, but the kiss went from mellow to incendiary with just the brush of his tongue. Everything changed. She felt her world tilt, a sideways slide into a dark, intense well of pleasure. Her arms hung useless at her sides, her head dropping back in his hands, giving over total control. Helpless to do anything but enjoy, she let the passion engulf her.

ALEX HAD NEVER BELIEVED he’d find anything that enthralled him as much as the sea. Until Drucilla. Sexy, sweet and oh, God, he thought as he deepened the kiss, so freaking delicious.

Fingers tunneled through her hair, all loose and wet where it escaped its tidy braid, he held her head captive for his mouth. Teeth, tongue and breath tangled together in a wild dance of passion. His heart beat as if he was riding the highest wave; his body responded as if the touch of her mouth had flipped his switch, turning him on at full power.

Her lips tasted like salt, sun and something indefinable. Something that reached into his heart and tugged. A lesser man might have hesitated, worried that a woman he’d known less than twenty-four hours could capture him so tightly, so quickly. But Alex knew better—there was no such thing as love. Appreciation, enjoyment, respect, definitely. And sexual connection? His body’s reaction to Drucilla proved how intense those could be. But love? Pretty words was all.

Positive his heart was safe, Alex gave over to the delight he was discovering in this fascinating woman.

Her arms twined around his neck, a low purr of pleasure husky in her throat. She moved tight against his body, her smooth thighs sliding along his. Alex hummed in appreciation. Drucilla hadn’t lied when she’d said she wasn’t into games. No, this woman went for what she wanted. And from the way her hands were skimming over his arms, gripping his biceps, she wanted him.

Their mouths moved together, each slide of their lips sending him into a deeper chasm of gratification. He shifted his weight, sinking to the sand and bringing Dru with him.

She made a sound of approval, then scraped her nails lightly over his chest. Alex groaned, pleasure shooting through his body, sending his senses to high alert. Propping himself on one elbow, he deepened the kiss as he used the other hand to trace her swimsuit strap. His fingers trailed down the silken skin of her shoulder, across the delicate curve of her collarbone. Unable to resist the temptation, he cupped his palm over the swell of her breast, which was straining against the slick, wet nylon of her swimsuit.

She gasped, her back arching to press herself tighter into his hand. Alex moaned, the feel of her nipple swelling beneath making him crazy.

Dimly, the far-off voice of reason reminded him that for all their seeming seclusion, they were on a public beach. And from the feel of the sun against his shoulder blades, siesta was probably over. Which meant this beach was about to get even more public.

Definitely not how or where he wanted to enjoy his first sight of Drucilla’s naked body. Oh, no, when he got her naked he wanted all the time in the world to enjoy every nuance of her body, to revel in the colors and textures and tastes of her.

A part of him wanted to haul her to her feet and drag her off to the nearest private spot and give in to his body’s demands. But he couldn’t. Well, he acknowledged as his erection throbbed in painful protest, he could. But he wouldn’t.

Forcing himself to be patient was about the hardest thing Alex had ever done. Almost as hard as his dick, pressing in supplication against Drucilla’s thigh. But he wanted more than a hot dance in the sand with her. He wanted as much as he could get.

“How about we clean up, go to dinner?” he asked, his words husky and rough. “Maybe some dancing later?”

She blinked up at him, her indigo eyes shifting from blurry to contemplative. She was shaded from the glare of the late-afternoon sun by his shadow, but the light still glinted off the water sparkling on her lush eyelashes.

She opened her mouth to respond, then pursed her lips, scanning his face as if looking for the answer to the mysteries of the universe. Then she gave a deep sigh. Alex almost groaned as the move pressed her breasts, with their rock-hard nipples, against his chest.

“How about we skip the dinner and dancing and just go back to my bungalow?” she invited softly. Her words were breathless, nervous. But the assurance in her eyes told him she meant what she said.

Alex’s mind exploded with the image of the two of them, naked beneath a shower’s spray, sliding their soapy hands over each other’s bodies to wash away the salt and sand.

His dick, already straining and impatient, jumped a little at the mental picture. His mind, already formulating an acceptance, thrilled at the invitation.

But his mouth, dammit, was operating on its own.

“Let’s do both,” he said before he could stop the words. His mind immediately scrambled to find a way to retract the words.

Drucilla’s eyes went soft, something sweet and humbling flashing in their depths. It was that look that instantly put an end to any attempted retraction.

Alex gave a soft laugh and rested his forehead against hers, briefly closing his eyes and sucking in a deep, fortifying breath. God, he was known for his mental acuity, his brilliance, some even said. And here he was turning his back on loose-and-wild sex in exchange for a more meaningful connection. Insane.

“Let’s do dinner,” he suggested, reluctantly pulling away from her warmth. Instantly chilled now that his still-wet body was exposed to the air, he shivered a little as he pushed himself to his feet. Reaching down, he took her hand to help her up.

The momentum of the move had the exact effect he’d hoped. She landed against him. Alex’s arms wrapped around her, his erection tight against her belly. He grinned down into her inquiring face.

“We’ll save the dancing for private.”

4

DRU WATCHED HERSELF in the mirror as she tied the satin strings of her halter behind her neck. The teal-and-amethyst-patterned fabric made her skin glow. Or maybe that was the sun she’d gotten that afternoon. The smooth material cupped her breasts, making it clear she wasn’t wearing a bra.

She stepped back to get a full-length view, turning this way and that to see if her panty line showed. Barely. That was good, wasn’t it? She knew the underwear rules at home. Wear it. Simple enough. But vacation-underwear rules? And what about the wanting-to-have-sex-tonight rule modification?

She expected the lack of a bra would clearly indicate her interest in sex. But she wasn’t quite brave enough to go commando, so she hoped her barely there panty line wouldn’t be a turnoff.

This, she realized, was why she sucked at the flirtation thing. She obsessed over trivial details. She didn’t know the rules, the right way to play the game. She smoothed her hand over her hip and gave a ragged sigh. What she wouldn’t give to discuss interstellar gases and dust clouds at this point.

It wasn’t until she went to twist her hair into a knot that she noticed her hands were shaking. Dru looked at her reflection, noting the dilated eyes beneath her smoky shadow, the bare lower lip where she’d already chewed off her lipstick and the rapid pulse fluttering at her throat.

She dropped her hands, letting her hair fall like a pale curtain over her shoulders. She’d leave it down. The better to hide behind, she hoped.

She glanced at the clock: 5:55. Alex would be here in five minutes. Resorting to her test-anxiety cure, she picked up her brush and started running it through her hair. She closed her eyes and focused on the sensation of the bristles, on her breath moving gently in and out. She let her mind empty. Drew in relaxation and a sense of peace.

The tension seeped out of her shoulders. The butterflies in her stomach landed. Ahhh, there it was. That sweet sense of tranquillity. Perfect.

There was a knock at the door. Dru gave a loud gasp. The brush flew out of her hands, ricocheted off the mirror and slid across the bureau with a loud bang.

Apparently she couldn’t have both inner peace and a wild vacation fling. She sucked in a shaky breath before quickly slicking color back over her lower lip with a quivering hand. With a smacking motion, she blew her reflection a kiss for luck and headed for the door.

She pressed a hand to her stomach. Then, with a deep breath, she pasted a smile on her face and pulled open the door.

“Hi,” she said breathlessly.

“Hi back.”

Oh, baby. Alex was gorgeous. So far she’d only seen his hair in wet curls or casual waves falling around his face. Tonight it was swept back in a way that accented his cheekbones and emphasized his melt-her-insides midnight-dark eyes.

His white shirt was open at the collar and buttoned at the cuffs, paired with black slacks and dress shoes. Typical date attire, evening casual. The look should have been staid, maybe a little cookie-cutter.

Maybe it was the intense, edgy lust clawing at her belly that had her wondering how the crisp white cotton would feel under her hands if she stroked his chest. How the zipper would feel as she tugged it down. If his clothes carried the same delicious scent she’d smelled on his skin when they’d kissed that afternoon.

Whether he wore boxers or briefs.

Her anxiety melted away in the heat of pure lust.

“Wow,” he said, his tone husky as he leaned his shoulder against the door frame and gave her a slow, seductive smile. The kind of smile that promised that he could deliver on her every fantasy. “You look gorgeous.”

“Come in,” she invited, her mind racing with possibilities. Her brain was disengaged, all her earlier concerns over common ground disintegrated. Who needed similar interests to talk about? All she could think about now was sex. With Alex. To have that, she just needed a simple plan. Entice him, entertain him, engage him.

In other words, get him naked as quickly as possible.

He stepped into the room, shutting the door behind him. As he did, he handed her a single bloom. Brilliant red, it was huge and fragrant. And so, so sweet.

“Thank you,” she murmured softly.

Dru took the lily, her hands brushing Alex’s as her eyes met his. Her heart stuttered. No guy had ever brought her flowers. Once in a while one would bring her a science journal, but only if they had an article featured in it.

“I love flowers,” she blurted out as she held the fragrant blossom to her nose with a smile. “My mom does a lot of container gardening, but she’s always grown herbs and vegetables, never flowers.”

Alex followed her to the small living room and, at her gesture, sat on the cushioned rattan settee while Dru found a glass at the wet bar and filled it with water for the flower.

“Wine?” she asked, lifting the bottle she’d put on ice. Just in case.

“Sure.”

She pulled the cork and poured them both a glass, and was proud to see her hand was steady.

“Does your mom live in an apartment?” he asked with a friendly smile.

Dru almost dropped her wine. Olympia Robichoux, in an apartment? With all those other people around, sharing walls and noise? Hardly. Olympia had always insisted on a house, no matter what their financial situation. A house was more regal, she said. That they were easier to sneak out of went without saying. Shrugging off the tension that thoughts of her mother always induced, Dru handed Alex his wine before taking a fortifying sip of her own.

“No. My parents just moved a lot,” she told him as she settled next to him on the settee. It sounded better than sharing her family’s eviction records. As always, she stuffed the childhood anger, resentment and dregs of loneliness away in a tidy little box in her mind labeled “off-limits.” “My mother kept everything she needed portable. But my dad wanted his fresh tomatoes, so he had to lug those huge clay pots with them from house to house.”

“Is he still lugging them?”

“My dad’s gone,” she said with a smile to acknowledge the sympathetic way he rubbed her knee. “Mom bought a house three years ago, so her gypsy days are over.”

Well, technically, she’d helped her mom buy the house. It’d been crazy, given that she’d just bought her own condo. But her mom had needed a home. One she could actually settle in and trust would never be torn out from under her. The choice had been to buy one or move Olympia into the condo.

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