DONNA HILL

began writing novels in 1990. Since that time she has had more than forty titles published, including full-length novels and novellas. Two of her novels and one novella were adapted for television. She has won numerous awards for her body of work. She is also the editor of five novels, two of which were nominated for awards. She easily moves from romance to erotica, horror, comedy and women’s fiction. She was the first recipient of the Trailblazer Award and currently teaches writing at the Frederick Douglass Creative Arts Center.

Donna lives in Brooklyn with her family. Visit her Web site at www.donnahill.com.

Private Lessons
Donna Hill

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Books by Donna Hill

Kimani Romance

Love Becomes HerIf I Were Your WomanAfter DarkSex and LiesSeduction and LiesTemptation and LiesLonging and LiesPrivate Lessons

This book is dedicated to the countless men and women who have devoted their lives to education.

Dear Reader,

Thank you for once again entrusting me to take you on a romantic journey. I do hope you will be intrigued by my brainy, beautiful heroine, Naomi Clarke, a tenured professor, and Brice Lawrence, the man who makes her forget her lesson plans!

When these two meet for the first time on the balmy beaches of the Bahamas, neither suspects that their little vacation fling will not only put them together in bed, but…well, you’ll have to find out for yourself.

Do let me know what you think. I’d love to hear from you. Drop me a line at dhassistant@gmail.com.

Until next time,

Donna

Chapter One

“Come on, Naomi, live a little,” Alexis said as they browsed the swimsuit selections in the Neiman Marcus department store. “Go for a bikini.” She held up a fire-engine-red two-piece that was really no more than a few strings knotted together.

“You have got to be kidding!” Naomi sputtered, shoving the strings back at Alexis.

Alexis couldn’t contain her laughter. “Girl, relax. I know that’s not your style, but we’re going on vacation. We won’t know a soul. It wouldn’t hurt for you to let that bun down and flaunt yourself a little bit. Maybe catch the eye of some fine island man.” She winked. “‘Cause that’s what I plan to do.” She rifled through the swimsuit rack.

“So I guess it’s over between you and Gary.”

Alexis waved her hand in dismissal. “Gary was much too boring. All he ever wanted to do was watch CNN. Can you imagine?”

“What’s wrong with that? At least you know where he is and what he’s doing,” she said, her tone dipping down to that place she didn’t want to go.

Alexis sighed and turned to her friend. She knew all too well where the bitterness stemmed from. “Nay, what Trevor did to you was despicable. And I hope he rots in hell for hurting you the way what he did. But it’s been two years.” She paused and took Naomi by the shoulders. “You need to let it go so that you can be okay, sweetie. All you do is work and you need more than that. Your life can be more than your students and grading papers and going to meetings.”

Naomi pressed her lips together and looked at her friend. Alexis’s soft features and inviting brown eyes were the pictures of concern. She knew Alexis was right. But she wasn’t like Alexis. She couldn’t bounce from one man to the next. She’d always been reserved and shy when it came to relationships. Sure, she’d enjoyed the attention of men just like any other heterosexual woman, but her conservative nature never really allowed her to “let go.” Although she’d always been a workaholic and driven, and not the party type, when she’d met Trevor, a professor at Morehouse University during an educator’s conference in D.C., a lot of that changed. He wooed her into opening that door that she’d always kept shut. She’d stepped out from behind her books and research papers to become a partner in a relationship. What a mistake. So when it was over she did what was familiar and comfortable: she buried herself in her work, only deeper this time.

Naomi’s expression eased. She shook off the images of the past with a toss of her head. “I let you talk me into this trip, didn’t I?” she teased, moving out of Alexis’s hold as she reached for a swimsuit. She held up a one-piece lemon yellow suit with cutouts on the sides. She smiled triumphantly.

Alexis angled her head left then right. “Hmm. Okay. Not bad. Kinda cute.”

“Gee thanks.” She laughed lightly. Two years is a long time to be alone, she silently admitted as they continued shopping. But she’d rather be alone than to be hurt like that again. She was going on this trip because Alexis had all but twisted her arm and her relentless badgering finally broke her down. Hmm, two weeks on a sunny island was probably what she needed.

By the time Naomi returned home from their all-out shopping spree, her feet were on fire. She kicked off her shoes and her feet sighed in contentment. She flexed her toes. Alexis must have dragged her to every outlet in the mall—twice. She laughed lightly thinking about her friend. Alexis Montgomery was a piece of work, but she wouldn’t trade her in for anything.

Naomi went upstairs to her bedroom. She loved her bedroom. It was her haven and she’d taken special care in decorating it. When she walked into her bedroom all the rest of the world disappeared.

The walls were a soft cream color and in opposite corners were floor to ceiling curios lined with first edition books. The bay window opened onto her backyard below and the garden that she tended with care. The cool walls held several pieces of African art that she’d purchased from a small gallery in Sag Harbor. The inlaid wood floors were only partially covered by an antique rug in cream and bronze.

But her bed was her centerpiece. Queen-size, four-poster with sheer draping that hung dramatically from the tops of the posts. She’d spent a fortune on her mattress that was like lying down in heaven. A matching six-dresser drawer, a double door armoire and a cozy club chair rounded out the furnishings. Small speakers were tucked into strategic spots to pipe in her music when the mood hit her. Recessed lighting offered the perfect ambiance for any time of the day or night. Plants, rather than drapes, hung in abundance in her windows, giving the room a sometimes tropical, but calming feel.

Naomi drew in a long breath of satisfaction and began to feel the aura of her room begin to work its magic. She dumped the bags on the bed and started unpacking them. As she viewed the brightly colored outfits, the strappy sandals and glittery jewelry and even a few purchases from Victoria’s Secret, she grew more and more pleased and excited. A bubble of anticipation fluttered in her stomach, and she knew that with Alexis she was going to have a great time, like it or not!

She began taking tags off and sorting through the clothing when she noticed the flashing light on her phone. She walked around the queen-size bed to the end table and pressed the flashing message light.

The first call was obviously a wrong number as the caller was talking in a completely different language. The next was from her mortgage company reminding her that she was eligible for refinancing. The next call stopped her cold.

“Naomi. It’s Trevor. I—”

She pressed Erase before she could hear another word. This was the third call from him in the past month and she’d erased all the other calls as well. How dare he, she fumed. She should have changed her number when they broke up but she never expected to hear from him again. She hadn’t said anything to Alexis about the calls. But she definitely planned to talk with her about it while they were away—get her perspective.

She pressed the heel of her palm to her forehead and turned in a slow circle of frustration. She felt violated in a way, as crazy as that might sound. But his call invaded her one sanctuary.

“Aggggh!” She stomped over to her walk-in closet, pulled out her suitcase and began packing her clothes. At that moment she wished she was on her way to the airport, instead of the coming weekend. She shoved the clothes in the bag.

Yes, a trip with her best friend for two carefree weeks in Antigua was exactly what she needed.

Trevor Lloyd was more than a little disappointed that he’d been, once again, unable to reach Naomi. He’d tried several times by phone, left messages and she hadn’t returned any of his calls.

He got up from the brown second-hand couch and walked to the window. The sun was beginning to set and in this muted light the blight on this urban neighbourhood was dulled. A far cry from the five bedroom, two-story Tudor he once owned.

Trevor shoved his hands into the pockets of his hand-tailored slacks—one of the few things he hadn’t given up from his old life. He drew in a long breath.

How had he gotten here—two steps above bottom? He’d been a respected professor, an upstanding member of his community, a sought-out lecturer, financially secure and he’d had someone who’d loved him.

He turned away from the telltale reflection in the window. It was all gone now and he had no one to blame but himself. But he was back and determined to reclaim his place on all fronts and in Naomi Clarke’s heart.

“Can I refill your drink, ma’am?”

Naomi peered above her dark sunglasses. A waiter stood above her balancing a silver-toned tray on his palm, his dark, shiny face in sharp contrast to his brilliant white jacket. She glanced to her right side. Her daiquiri glass was empty. She lifted it and pushed it toward the waiter. “Thank you, yes.”

“Virgin again, ma’am?” he asked with a smile that Naomi translated as condescending.

Her gaze faltered. Her full, glossy lips pinched ever so slightly. “Yes,” she murmured, and pushed her sunglasses back up along the bridge of her pert nose.

She adjusted her sheer tangerine-colored wrap across her lap and folded her long fingers on top. Did he have to say “virgin” so loud?

She shifted her body on the blue-and-white-striped lounge chair and crossed her ankles. She glanced toward the pool—and when she drew in a breath of sheer shock and pleasure, all the air stuck in the center of her chest. He emerged from the pool and pushed up onto the deck, the muscles in his arms bulging and glistening. The water clung to him as if it didn’t want to let him go, even as he took a towel and wiped the droplets from his face and broad shoulders.

Naomi commanded herself to breathe before her head started to spin from lack of oxygen.

Brice couldn’t believe his luck. It was her. Stretched out like a Nubian goddess. He’d noticed her when she’d arrived at the hotel the prior afternoon. Then, she was disguised in a two-piece skirt suit. Her dark black hair was pulled back into a bun at the nape of her neck, forcing her cheekbones to stand out against her warm brown complexion, and giving her expression an exotic appearance.

She’d crossed the lobby with the assurance of someone used to exerting her authority, and walked directly to the check-in desk. Alone. He’d looked for her later that evening in the lobby, the bar, the restaurant and even out on the beach. It was almost as if he’d imagined her. Until now.

He draped his towel around his neck. This time he wasn’t going to let her get away. He started off in her direction, but slowed when he watched the exchange between her and the waiter. She practically shoved the glass at him, and the tight purse of her lips didn’t invite conversation. Maybe he needed to set his sights elsewhere, after all. He walked toward the bar instead.

Naomi watched him change directions and her heart sunk. She was sure that the gorgeous man that she’d noticed since yesterday was actually heading in her way. Wishful thinking. Even if he did decide to introduce himself, she’d probably make a mess of it. Relationships weren’t her strong suit. She was an academic, a nerd, a brainiac, a one-time child prodigy turned genius, with a doctorate and two master’s degrees. Whose favorite pastime was reading a good book. Her intellect generally put most men off, which effectively limited her dating prospects.

Getting away and taking a vacation far from her normal life was her best friend Alexis’s idea. They were supposed to travel together, but at the last minute Alexis had to cancel, due to her mother’s illness. So here she was, alone, like a fish out of water and not a clue what to do next. If she wasn’t as passionate about money as she was about books, she would have cancelled the trip. But the “no refund” policy stopped her cold.

“Your drink, ma’am.”

The condescending waiter was back. “Thank you,” she murmured.

He gave a slight nod of his bald, shiny head and walked away.

Naomi took off her sunglasses and set them on the table next to her and picked up her drink and sipped from the straw. She took a long, slow look around her.

Everywhere that she turned people were having a ball. Couples toyed with and teased each other, small groups held impromptu parties and stray singles seemed to quickly find a partner.

Her brows pulled together. Why was this so difficult for her? Why was it always so hard for her to loosen up, relax and enjoy herself?

The truth was, she’d never had time. From the time her parents realized that they had a baby genius, they scraped and saved to put her in every kind of class they could afford: piano, violin, dance, math, science. But then her father had a heart attack when she was fifteen, and he was totally incapacitated. Naomi’s classes came to a grinding halt. She took on a job after school, took care of her younger brother, Paul, and helped her mother around the house. Her entertainment became the world of books.

When it was time for college, Naomi put that out of her head. It wasn’t an option for her. Her parents had exhausted their savings taking care of her father, and she was vehement about not leaving them, even when her parents insisted that she go. It was her guidance counselor, Ms. Adams, who convinced Naomi that to waste her intelligence would be a crying shame. Throughout her high school years, she’d been more than a stellar student and was slated to be valedictorian, graduating a year early.

She would be the first in her family to go to college, Ms. Adams had insisted. Don’t waste your gift, she’d urged. After much cajoling and insistence from her parents, Naomi let go of the reins on her dreams and with Ms. Adams’s help began filling out applications. By the time she was halfway through her senior year, she had her pick of universities and the scholarship money she’d needed.

Naomi chose Spelman so that she could stay close to home. Then she was admitted to Columbia University in New York for her two graduate degrees in English and Contemporary Literature and her doctorate in African-American Studies.

Now, at thirty-four, she was a tenured professor at Atlanta College, on track to become dean. She had a house, a car, a fulfilling career—but, as Billy Dee William said in Mahogany, it’s nothing without someone to share it with.

“Are the drinks that bad?”

Naomi blinked and looked up, shielding her eyes from the glare of the sun with the curve of her hand. It was him!

She nearly spilled her drink.

She ran her tongue across her lips. Brice tracked the sensual movement and wondered if it was as sweet as it looked.

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” she finally managed to say.

“You’re frowning. Is the drink that bad,” he repeated.

The sun blazed behind him, casting him in a magnificent glow that created an almost surreal image.

“Oh.” Her light laugh fluttered and stumbled in her throat. “Just thinking.”

“Antigua isn’t the place for deep thoughts. Mind if I sit down?” He indicated the empty chair beside her with a lift of his chin.

“I’m sure it’s fine.” Don’t act too eager. Play it cool.

He lowered his long, lean body onto the chair and stretched out. Naomi tried to swallow over the hard, dry knot that rose in her throat as she glanced down at the bulge in his swim trunks and the tight muscular thighs. A line of perspiration broke out along her hairline. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs. Breathe.

“As I was saying, Antigua isn’t a place for deep thought. You’re supposed to be having fun.” He turned his head to look at her and immediately had to order his body to back down and stay under control. He dropped his towel across his lap.

Up close, she was more tantalizing than he’d first thought. The warm brown of her skin, tinted by the rays of the sun, was as appealing as an appetizer before the main course. Her face looked as if it had been carved by a sculptor’s expert hand: wide, dark eyes, prominent cheekbones reminiscent of the ancestors, and silky black hair. Her long neck led down to the rise of heaven. Her breasts were perfect, full and round, not too much, and not too little, her chest tapering down to tight abs, all balanced on dancer’s legs. Her body could put the Sports Illustrated swimsuit cover model to shame. That dowdy outfit she had on the day before definitely hid her assets. This was one hot sister, from the top of her beautiful head down to the tips of her pink-polished toes.

Naomi was amazed at the length of his lashes and how they framed his dark eyes, the smoothness of his milk chocolate skin and full lips that seemed eager to offer a smile or a sensual kiss. She forced her mind away from his mouth and what he hid beneath the towel.

“What makes you think I’m not having fun?” she asked, bringing them both crashing back to reality.

His eyes glided slowly across her face. A hint of a smile curved his mouth. “Are you?”

Her gaze was glued to his lips when he spoke, tracing the outline of them, their fullness and the way they matched perfectly with the hard lines of his face.

The raucous laughter of a group of partygoers passing in front of them snapped her back to attention.

“I’m having a ball.” She put the straw between her lips and sucked deeply.

He chuckled. “My name is Brice.”

His voice was like a gentle rumble before a storm, she thought.

“Naomi.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Naomi.”

Her heart was pounding so furiously at this point, that she was certain he could hear it.

“Are you here with friends?”

If she said no, would that paint her as desperate, she worried. But if she said yes, where would she drum up these “friends?”

“I’m on vacation,” she managed to finally shoot out.

Brice knew a cold shoulder when he felt one. It was obviously a mistake. He should have listened to his gut in the first place and stayed away. He pushed up from his seat. “Well, enjoy your vacation, Naomi.”

Before she could think of anything to say to stop him, he was walking away. Naomi slumped back against the chair and sighed. That went swimmingly, she thought, her spirits sinking. She may as well paint a note on her forehead saying “stay away.”

She reached for her sunglasses and put them back on to hide the disappointment in her eyes. This was only her first day and she was turning men away already. She had nine more to go. Would the rest of her time in paradise be just as miserable?

Brice stole a parting glance at Naomi from across his left shoulder. That was a mistake, he thought, while he watched her return to her haughty pose, throwing up the barrier and her dark glasses. He shook his head and strode toward the hotel lobby, then took the elevator to his room. He had no one but himself to blame for the annoyance he felt. But he could certainly blame Naomi for the uncomfortable tightness in his groin. He should have paid attention to his gut instinct and kept his distance from the ice queen. There were plenty of lovely, available women on the island who would welcome his company. But the truth was, he’d been on the island for a week and not one of these bathing beauties had caught his eye. Until Naomi. He wasn’t the type of guy to be so easily dissuaded. His philosophy had always been “only take no for an answer when you have exhausted all possibilities.” He hadn’t even put up the good fight yet. He smiled to himself. Ms. Naomi, I’m going turn that ice into liquid fire.

Chapter Two

“So tell me, tell me. How was your first day?” Alexis asked.

“Before we get to me, how is your mom?”

Alexis blew out a sigh. “She’s doing better. But she really put a scare into me this time. COPD is no joke but she refuses to stop smoking. Just makes me crazy. They had to intubate her this time to get her lungs working. Girl, it was crazy. She should be coming home by the end of the week. I’m getting a home attendant for her. Hopefully, they can keep an eye on her.”

Naomi harrumphed. Alexis’s mother, Sylvia, was a chronic smoker and over the past few years it had begun to really take its toll. This wasn’t her first trip to the hospital and if she didn’t do something about her habit, it wouldn’t be the last. She worried about Sylvia, and particularly about Alexis. As much as Alexis may fuss about her mother, she adored her. Sylvia had been a single mom who sacrificed to make sure that Alexis had whatever she needed and Alexis never forgot that.

“Well, you just tell her to behave herself and that I’m thinking of her.”

“I will. So, now back to you. How is it going?”

Naomi hugged the phone between her cheek and shoulder while she took off her sandals and put them in the closet. “Could be worse, I suppose.”

“Oh, Nay, what happened? You didn’t introduce yourself as doctor and act like your usual self did you?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” She smoothed the bedcovering and sat down.

“You know exactly what I mean. Distant and above it all.”

“You’re wrong for that, Lexi,” she said, feigning hurt.

“Did you at least try to meet anyone?”

She thought about the gorgeous man named Brice who kept invading her thoughts and then her space, and what a disaster that turned out to be. Finally, she spilled it all to Alexis. She could almost see her friend shaking her head with disappointment.

“Girl, what am I going to do with you? Don’t you remember anything that I told you?”

Naomi sighed. “Lexi it’s useless. I’m not like you. I’m not a party girl. I’d just as soon teach my class naked than flirt with a perfect stranger.”

Alexis moaned. Naomi Clarke was clearly the African-American version of Dr. Brennan on the television show Bones. They were both unbelievably brilliant, beautiful and totally naive about the ways of the regular world. Rather than give in to feelings, they would prefer to rationalize everything away. It was both endearing and frustrating.

She’d lost count of the number of times that she set Naomi up with a date that Nay turned into an inquisition or a telethon about the state of the world, people, politics, religion, education. You name it and Naomi Clarke could talk to you about it. On and on and on. Besides her bedazzling the men with her sheer volume of knowledge, Naomi had this standoffish air about her.

The sad part was, she was the complete opposite once you got to know her. But she rarely gave anyone the chance. The only man who could even come close to holding a conversation with her were some of the other professors on campus. But that relationship choice was a definite no-no to the college administration.

“Nay, do me one favor?”

“What?” she asked halfheartedly.

“Why don’t you spend the rest of the week pretending to be someone completely different?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Alexis groaned. “Playacting. Role playing. Didn’t you ever play ‘pretend’ when you were a kid?”

Naomi frowned in concentration. “No. I don’t think so.”

If this was anyone other than Naomi, Alexis would swear that she was lying. “Listen, this is what I want you to do…”

Naomi took her time dressing for dinner. She’d spent most of the afternoon sitting on the balcony of her room, rereading Invisible Man by Ralph Ellison, and watching with envy the lighthearted frivolity on the beach below. Why she couldn’t unwind she wondered for the umpteenth time. She didn’t “party” as Alexis would say, although that girl made it a point to hook her up with every eligible bachelor she could find, and drag her to every night spot in Atlanta that played music, served drinks and had men. Those were Alexis’s only criteria.

But Naomi wanted more than a good-time man. She wanted someone with a brain, ambition. Someone who didn’t care that she didn’t know the latest hit on the radio or that she loved movies with subtitles—and spent Saturday afternoons following new Thai, Japanese or African recipes or rereading books that she loved. And he wouldn’t care that she was probably the only black woman in Atlanta with no rhythm. None of those things would matter, because he would simply adore her for who she was, quirks and all.

She peered into the mirror of the dressing table and applied a light covering of lip gloss. Maybe she should take Alexis’s advice, she briefly mused. Sighing, she placed the tube on the dresser top and stared at her reflection. She could almost see Alexis sitting on her shoulder, and she could hear her whispering, “live a little.”

Naomi drew in a long breath of resolve, squared her shoulders and unbuttoned the top two buttons of her sleeveless cotton blouse, exposing a lush hint of cleavage. Frowning, she quickly fastened one button, picked up her purse and headed out for the evening, intent on enjoying herself, one way or the other. And if Brice should just so happen to give her another chance, she was going to take it!

Brice was seated at the outdoor bar adjacent to the beachfront restaurant when he caught a flash of something soft and flowing in his peripheral vision. He turned in the direction of the movement and a knot formed and released in his belly.

He watched Naomi move like a heavenly body toward the front of the restaurant.

Was she dining alone? With friends? A man? He finished off his rum punch, hopped down off the three-legged stool and told the bartender to add the drink to his room tab. He left a tip and hurried toward the restaurant before he totally lost sight of her.

The spacious restaurant was set on the beach, enclosed on all sides with netting, with a thatched roof that had hurricane lamps hanging from its rafters. Circular tables covered in white linen dotted the planked floors in a horseshoe, leaving the center for dancing. The waiters all wore stiff white jackets and black slacks. The waitresses wore all black, with white aprons. Calypso music, mixed with a little R & B, played against the sound of the waves that rolled against the shore and the seagulls that cawed in the distance.

When he got to the restaurant’s hostess and the check-in podium he saw that Naomi was being taken to her seat. He peered over heads and shoulders to see if anyone was joining her. The waitress gave her one menu. He smiled.

“How many tonight, sir?”

Brice blinked at the much-too-young-looking hostess. “Oh, uh, just one.”

“Someone will seat you in a moment,” she said with a musical lilt to her voice.

“Thank you.” He stepped to the side and let the couple behind him move up while he kept an eye on Naomi.

“Right this way, sir,” another young woman said, coming up to his side.

He followed her to the opposite side of the room from where Naomi sat. She handed him a menu and asked if she could get him a drink.

“Thanks. Yes. A rum punch.”

“Right away.”

Brice settled back against the rattan chair and surreptitiously studied Naomi from behind the protection of his menu.

A waiter approached Naomi’s table and placed a pitcher of water in front of her. He filled her glass while he spoke. When Brice saw her soft smile and the way her lips moved in thanks, heard the sound of her laughter at something that was said to her, he instantly knew that he’d been silly to have cast such a harsh judgment on her. It was his ego talking.

The waitress returned with his drink. “Are you ready to order, sir?”

He looked up at the round, pleasant face. He crooked his finger to draw her closer.

“See that young lady over there in the yellow?” He raised his chin in Naomi’s direction.

“Yes, sir.”

He went into his wallet, and took out a twenty-dollar bill. “That’s for you.” He stuck it in her apron pocket. “I need you to go over there and gently ask her if she would be interested in having a guest at her table for dinner.”

The young lady smiled. “Of course.” She walked across the room and approached Naomi. They talked briefly for a moment and then Naomi glanced around the room and her gaze landed on Brice.

Her eyes widened in surprise and excitement. She smiled and he could see her nodding her head. He was halfway across the room before the waitress could reach him.

He stood above her, feeling like a pimple-faced teen at his first high school dance. “Can we start again?”

His voice moved through her like a wave of heat. She inhaled deeply to try to still the rapid beating of her heart.

“I’d like that,” she said softly.

He pulled out a chair and sat down. “Brice Lawrence.”

“Naomi Clarke.”

The waitress returned and took Brice’s and Naomi’s dinner order. They both selected seared salmon and began with the house salad.

“So, you already told me that you were here on vacation.”

She lowered her eyes in embarrassment and tugged on her bottom lip with her teeth. “Sometimes I can sound a little curt. It’s not my intention.”

He waved off her apology. “Forget it. I was being oversensitive. Must be too much sun.” He chuckled and was rewarded with her smile. “How long will you be staying?”

“Two weeks. What about you?”

“That works out perfectly. So am I, or close to it. But I plan on enjoying my entire summer. After I leave here I’m off to Cancún, then I’m meeting friends in San Francisco.”

Naomi thought about Alexis’s counsel, what she’d said about just throwing caution to the wind and relaxing. She was on vacation. She would never have to see him again if things didn’t work out.

The waitress approached and asked if she could refill any drinks. Naomi asked what Brice was drinking.

“I’ll have one of those,” she said. Her heart hammered in her chest.

“One rum punch coming right up.”

“Where are you from?” Naomi asked, trying to get herself together.

“I live in New York. What about you?”

“Uh, Florida.” Where did that come from?

“Really?”

Did he know she was lying? “Yes. Is that strange?”

“No,” he shrugged it off. “I just don’t think Florida when I see a beautiful woman like yourself. And no, that’s not a line. I just think retirement capital when Florida comes to mind.” He leaned a bit forward. “Obviously I have to readjust my thinking.”

Her cheeks heated with pleasure. Being a woman of many, many words, she was at a total loss.

The music changed from calypso to something soft and slow. Several couples moved onto the dance floor.

“Would you like to dance?”

“Oh…I…couldn’t…”

“Sure you could.” He stood up and took her hand and gently pulled her to her feet. He rested his palm at that low dip in her back and led her onto the floor. When he found a good spot he turned her into his arms, and she nearly gasped when the full length of her body pressed up against his. For a moment her head grew light and the room seemed to shift, until he steadied her in his embrace. She felt as if she’d lost total control of her limbs. They wouldn’t move.

“Relax,” he whispered, holding her tenderly, not too close but close enough for him to feel her warmth, the beat of her heart and the slight tremors that ran up and down her body and tingled his fingertips.

He smelled so incredibly good, Naomi thought, and felt herself drifting easily into his embrace, miraculously following his lead without stepping on his feet.

“So, Ms. Naomi,” he said, breathing into her hair. “How about if, in the time we have left on the island, we get to know each other?”

She titled her head back and looked up into his eyes. “I’d like that very much.”

After all, she was a woman from Florida and after this island jaunt she’d never see him again.

Chapter Three

He was so easy to be with, Naomi realized as they ate and talked and laughed. He was funny, handsome, sexy and intelligent. She was surprised to learn that he was a high school math teacher after leaving a six-figure job in corporate America and had aspirations of opening his own school for young men.

“That’s a monumental task,” Naomi said. “But so desperately needed.”

Brice nodded. “Our young black men are under siege. They need so much, and the system is set up to have them fail. When I was working on Wall Street, I was one of barely a half dozen men of color in my giant corporate building, and those other guys were working in the mail room or were on the cleaning crews. I’d go into meetings and be “the only one.” And it’s like that all over corporate America. Young black men are not in decision-making positions or making the money.” He shook his head. “They need to be prepared and not prepared to work for someone else but to be entrepreneurs, inventors, thinkers. But that won’t happen in educational institutions that don’t have young black boys interests at heart. I can’t change the world, but maybe I can start with one young man, one school at a time.”

His voice and the fierce look in his dark eyes radiate the passion that he felt and the mission he believed himself to be on. You couldn’t listen to him and not get swept up in his dream for a better future for young black men. “How far away are you from opening your school?”

His smile was only halfway there. “Not as near as I need to be. It will take some time, but I’m focused. I’ve been working on putting several things into place over the past year and a half. I’m getting closer.” He turned his glass around in a slow circle on the table. “Funny, I haven’t told anyone besides my best friend, Carl, about ‘my school.’” He looked into her eyes.

Her heart pounded. “Oh. I’m…honored that you…told me.”

“You’re easy to talk to.”

Was it the way he was looking at her or the rum punch that was making her head spin?

“I’ve been so busy talking about me, what about you? What do you do in sunny Florida?”

She swallowed through her suddenly dry throat. She’d already started this off on a lie. How could she say something different now? This was crazy. She should have never listened to Alexis. “I work at a bookstore and take classes at night,” she blurted out, surprising herself with the ease of the flow. Must come from years of reading fiction, she thought in the back of her head.

“You keep surprising me,” he said. “Which bookstore?”

“Uh, Greenlight Books. It’s one of the small independent stores.”

“And you said you were going to school. What courses are you taking?”

“African-American studies.” At least that was something she could talk about with some confidence.

“That was my major in college.”

“Really?” She leaned forward, ready to immerse herself in her favorite subject.

Before they realized it, several hours, along with a couple of drinks, had passed, the crowd had thinned and the waiter was bringing the bill.

Brice looked around. “Wow, where’d everybody go?” he joked.

Naomi became instantly flustered. She reached for her purse and knocked it onto the floor. They both reached for it at the same time and bumped heads. Jerking back and holding their foreheads, they looked at each other and burst out laughing.

Brice handed Naomi her purse. “Sorry about that,” he chuckled. “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfectly fine. Nothing that a little brain surgery won’t cure.”

“Ahhh, the lady has jokes.” He stood and extended his hand to her. “How about we walk off this food and those drinks.”

“Sure.” She took his hand, and when his long, strong fingers wrapped around hers something warm, then hot, then electrifying scurried up her arm and shot through her body.

“You okay?”

Brice was peering down into her face, his brow wrinkled with concern.

Naomi blinked and took a breath. “Yes. I’m fine.”

“Oh, I thought I heard you moan. I want to be ready if I need to sweep you off your feet and carry you to your room.” He grinned devilishly and pretended to flex his muscles.

For a moment she saw herself nestled in his arms, her head pressed into the curve of his neck, inhaling that alluring scent of his as he strode across the beach, up to her room, where he would kick down the door and the music would play and it would all go black.

She’d obviously lost her mind. No more rum punch.

She gave her head a little shake. “I don’t think that will be necessary,” she said, forcing her head to clear. “Ready?”

“After you.”

Naomi led the way out, with Brice no less than a step behind her. His gaze trailed up and down her body, envisioning the curves, appreciating the understated but mesmerizing sway of her hips and the way the silk of her hair fell in soft wisps around the back of her neck, tempting him to touch them, run them through his fingers. It was a good thing he wasn’t going to be in Antigua for long. He could easily see himself wanting to get seriously involved with a woman like Naomi Clarke. But they lived worlds apart, and if things worked out for him the way he hoped and planned, he wouldn’t have the time needed to devote to a relationship. He took in her profile, set against the purple night sky, sprinkled with the white light of the stars and quarter moon, and he wished that things could be different.

They strolled along the beach, away from the hotel, and walked closer to the water. Naomi took off her shoes and felt oddly liberated and daring as she let the water and sand wash over her feet and seep between her toes. She giggled at the sensation, and Brice became intrigued by her joy at something so simple. Most of the women he knew would look at the experience as an annoyance, something to mess up their pedicure. A halo of a smile curved his mouth.

“How is it teaching high school kids?” Naomi asked, turning to look at him with a wide-eyed expression.

“It has its moments.” He chuckled lightly. “It’s not so much the subject matter, it’s more about seeing that bulb go off over their heads when they ‘get it.’ I teach in a really tough neighborhood in Harlem. Most of those kids are from broken homes, belong to gangs, have all kinds of havoc going on at home. A couple of my female students already have children. For most of them, their lives are on probation before they even get a chance.”

Naomi heard the pain and the passion in his voice. He really cared. He wasn’t just saying words to impress her. She knew exactly what he meant about that light bulb going off. And she so wanted to share with him her own experiences, give him some encouragement, but it was too late now. She’d already set off on a path of no return.

Instinctively, she took his hand and squeezed it. He turned to look at her. A hot jolt of electric current shot between them, shocking them both.

Brice stopped walking. His eyes grazed her face in a tender caress. Naomi felt a pulse begin to beat between her thighs. Her heart felt as if it was tumbling around in her chest as she watched his face come closer to hers, until his image blurred and his warm lips brushed against hers.

She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t think. The instant was so perfect as to be surreal.

Brice pressed a tiny bit closer. The overwhelming craving to taste the full sweetness of her mouth had his arm snaking around her waist, pulling her closer. That only made this sudden, driving desire more urgent when he felt her body glide against his and his erection bloom hard and full.

He groaned deep in his throat as her lips parted ever so slightly and she allowed him to run the very tip of his tongue over the inside of their wet softness.

Brice held her and drowned himself in the lushness of her, let her essence seep through his skin and awaken sensations inside him that he’d put on the back burner. Now, with Naomi, all the jets were on full blast. What he wouldn’t give to spend real time with her. Get to know her and get to make love to her the way he was imagining.

This was so unlike him. Women were a dime a dozen in New York. He could have his hands full if he wanted. The women he knew and had run across didn’t rock his world, make him lose perspective and think about all the things he wanted to do to them. But this woman…this Naomi Clarke was not like all the others. It was as if she had woven some kind of spell over him from the moment he set eyes on her. She stirred up a burning thirst in him, and he wasn’t going to ever be satisfied until his thirst was quenched.

Naomi felt weak all over, and her body was on fire. From deep inside she trembled. This wasn’t her. This isn’t what she did with a virtual stranger. But she couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t stop and she didn’t want to. His mouth was like an irresistible gem that had to be captured and held. When his fingers pressed into her back and brought her closer, her own sighs floated into the night sky when she felt the bulge of his sex press against her.

It had been so long since she’d felt desire, and, more importantly, desired by a man. It emboldened her. And the fictitious life that she’d created was her shield. She could hide behind it. She could be a bookseller from the panhandle of Florida, who took classes at night and who was on a vacation in Antigua.

It didn’t matter. This was a fantasy being played out in real life. For once, she was going to take a risk. She was going to give in to her feelings and not try to make sense of them.

If she would only have one night with Brice Lawrence, she was going to take it.

With great reluctance and pure willpower, Brice eased away from the simple kiss that had shaken him to the depths of his soul. He knew that if he didn’t stop this spontaneous act, they would go much further than either of them were prepared for.

Naomi felt like Christmas morning. Brice’s arms were the red ribbons that laced around her, holding her like a prized possession. She was lost in his arms, transported to a place of pure sensual pleasure with his kisses. She’d tossed aside her inhibitions, her nonos, and simply went with the moment. When he pulled away, she’d instantly had a moment of doubt, of panic. What had she done wrong? But that wasn’t it, she quickly realized. She understood when she looked up into his eyes that he had been in that same special place, and his words confirmed it.

He held her face in his palms and looked into the soft sparkle of her eyes, the questions that were reflected in them. “I…really didn’t mean for that to happen,” he said. “Yes, I did,” he confessed. “But I don’t want you to think that I’m just another guy on the make.” He tried to collect his thoughts so that what stumbled out of his mouth made sense. “I can’t explain it. There’s something about you that…damn, I don’t know.” He shook his head in confusion and chuckled in spite of himself.

Naomi brushed his chin with her thumb. “You don’t have to explain. For some things there are no words,” she said, surprising herself. She’d always been one who lived by rationale. Everything had a reason and an explanation. But on this beautiful tropical island with this handsome, desirable, sexy man, under the moon and the stars…there were no words.

“Then I’m not losing it,” he said.

“If you are, then so am I.”

Brice drew in a long breath of relief and pulled her tight against him. He kissed the top of her head. “I probably should get you back to your room before I do something really crazy and strip you out of that sexy outfit right here on the beach.” He took her hand and they walked back toward the hotel.

Naomi’s heart pounded and her spirit smiled.

Chapter Four

Naomi felt like a small earthquake was going off inside of her by the time they reached the front door to her room. What happens next? Should she ask him in? Would that be too aggressive? A little late to be thinking of being aggressive. Her mind ran in circles.

“So…” he said on a long breath. He stood in front of her with her back to the door. “See you in the morning?”

“Sure. Yes.”

“How about breakfast down on the beach?”

She smiled. “Sounds great.”

“And what if I knock on your door at say, seven?”

“I’ll be ready.”

He stepped an inch closer. “And what if I knocked on your door…before then?”

Oh God, what was he saying? “Umm…”

He lifted her chin and smiled. “Don’t worry. I won’t put you on the spot. But I do want to make it clear that if I had my way, I’d be on the other side of your door making love to you.”

Her insides jumped up the Richter scale. She couldn’t breathe. She tried to speak, but no words came out. He leaned down and kissed her lightly on the lips. “See you in the morning.”

“O-kay.”

He turned and walked down the hall to the elevator.

Naomi’s knees wobbled so badly she could barely stand up. It took her several tries before she could get her key card to slide through the slot and open the door.

Once on the other side of safety, she all but collapsed onto the first available club chair. Her pulse raced, her chest was damp and her clit was throbbing like a tiny heartbeat.

“Oh, lawd. What have I gotten myself into?” She took several deep breaths, then checked her watch. It was nearly two a.m. Alexis might still be up. She dug in her purse for her cell phone and tapped in Alexis’s number.

She listened to the phone ring on the other end until Alexis’s voice mail came on. Naomi babbled out a message and disconnected the phone. She pushed up from the chair, went to the bathroom and began getting undressed.

The evening with Brice played over and over in her mind while she stood under the pulse of the shower, as she ran the soapy loofah over her body. The water washed away the suds but not the heat that sat in her center and spread down the inside of her thighs. She relived his smile, his laughter, his scent, the feel of his hands around her waist, his lips on hers. She closed her eyes and allowed the sensations to take over and flow through her veins.

She imagined that the pulsing water was Brice’s fingertips playing a concerto along the surface of her skin. Her eyelids fluttered. A soft moan slipped through her lips.

In the distance she heard knocking. She blinked, turned off the water and listened. There it was again. Her heart thumped. Brice? Did he really come back? She grabbed the thick robe from the hook on the door slipped it on and tugged the belt. She darted for the door then stopped a split second before pulling it open. She took a calming breath. “Yes?”

“Room service, ma’am,” came the clearly Bahamian accent.

Whatever wild imaginings she may have had about Brice being on the other side of her door sputtered away like a pin-pricked balloon. She opened the door. Her eyes widened.

“Where would you like these, ma’am?”

The young man carried in a vase filled with blooming, brilliant tropical flowers.

“Uh, you can put them on the table by the balcony.”

She stood at the open doorway thrilled down to her toes, and she couldn’t wait for the young man to leave so that she could squeal in delight.

Moments later he was walking toward the door. He bobbed his head and waited. Naomi’s brow arched in question. “Oh.” Realization struck. She hurried across the room and dug through her wallet for a tip. He left with a big, bright smile. Probably gave him too much, she thought as she shut the door and darted to the other side of the room.

She gently parted the aromatic folds of the leaves and found a card pinned to a slender green stem.

“Just in case I messed up in any way tonight, accept this as my apology. If not then just enjoy them! See you at seven.”

Naomi drew the embossed card to her chest and smiled. Then leaning forward, she inhaled the heady scent of the arrangement.

She could easily see herself with someone like Brice. If she had to write up a list of what she wanted in a man, everything about Brice would be on it. But none of that mattered. Their time together was limited and she had lied. Not to mention that they lived thousands of miles apart.

She took off her robe, tossed it on the side chair and slid naked under the cool white sheets. She turned on her side and gazed out upon the dark horizon that stretched into forever, and decided that it was too late to turn back now. She was determined to make their time together as bright and memorable as possible. It had been a while since she’d allowed herself to succumb to the charms of a man, let a man fill all those empty spaces inside of her. She hugged herself beneath the covers. What she was planning to do was deliciously dangerous.

It went against every iota of her being, and that’s what made it so tempting. For the next two weeks Dr. Naomi Clarke was going to be tucked away between the pages of a book. And Naomi Clarke, woman on vacation, was going to take her place.

Naomi read the words on the card until she committed them to memory. With reluctance she turned off the bedside lamp and wished away the hours.

Brice arrived at the hotel’s beachfront restaurant by 6:30 a.m. to make sure that the breakfast order that he’d placed before he went to sleep the prior evening was prepared and their table secure.

When he’d been on the phone with the hotel, ordering the flowers and arranging for breakfast, in the back of his mind he kept asking himself what are you doing? Better yet, why? He barely knew this woman, and yet he did. All the wooing and wining and dining wasn’t his usual M.O., especially with someone he’d probably never see again. Although the Internet, Skype and cell phones kept the world well connected, he wasn’t one for long-distance relationships. Maybe that was it, he concluded, while he was being shown to his table. The fact that it was temporary released him, and apparently Naomi, from any inhibitions.

But deep inside he knew that was only part of it. It was Naomi. Plain and simple. He couldn’t explain it, but she’d totally thrown him off balance. Never before had he allowed himself to be seduced by no more than a beautiful smile. He’d seen plenty. Great body…but he’d had his share. It was something intangible. That spark that Carl always talked about feeling when he met his wife, Theresa. Wife! He chuckled to himself. He was definitely trotting down the wrong path.

He drew in long breath of salt-drenched air, leaned back in his seat and gazed out into the horizon. The rising sun splashed orange and gold across the crystal blue waters. He would make the most of every minute that remained.

“Good morning.”

Her voice, low and rippling like the morning tide, raised the fine hairs on his arms. Get it together, brother, he cautioned himself before he dared to look at her fully. He raised his eyes and, like a dream come true, she stood in front of him. The honey color of her sundress matched the smooth tones of her skin, almost giving the illusion that she was naked. But of course that was simply his heated imagination.

He stood, and her smile competed with the sun. Without thought, he leaned toward her and kissed her softly on the lips. The sensation of her moist mouth and soft lips, combined with the slightest whiff of her scent, was like a jolt of java. It shot to his head and spread through his veins. He eased back until her image came into focus. ”‘Morning.”

Naomi’s stomach was in the middle of a backflip. “Hi,” she said on a breath that floated to him like a caress. “You weren’t waiting long, were you?”

“No, not at all.” He came closer and pulled out her chair. The weight of her breast grazed his arm as she sat down.

Naomi’s breath rushed out in a soft gasp of pleasure at the contact. Her nipples hardened with anticipation.

“Sleep well?” he asked, settling down in his seat.

“Yes, I did. Once I got the thermostat adjusted, I slept straight through.” She wouldn’t tell him that her dreams were filled with him—dreams so potent that when she awoke she fully expected him to be right there next to her in the queen-size bed. She ran her tongue across her lips. “What about you?”

Brice watched her lips move, but even for a winning lottery ticket he couldn’t tell anyone what she’d just said.

“Are you okay?”

He reached for his glass of water. “Yeah.” He chuckled lightly. “Sorry, I was…thinking about what we could do today.”

“Oh.” She smiled brightly, then reached across the table and touched his hand. “Thank you for the beautiful flowers. They are absolutely gorgeous.”

His eyes crinkled in the corners. “So, did you accept them for pure enjoyment, or restitution?”

She looked directly into his eyes. “Enjoyment.”

“That’s what I was hoping you would say.”

She propped her chin on her palm. “Why did you think you may owe me an apology?”

His eyes moved slowly over her face. “For maybe coming on a little too strong.”

“Do you honestly think that you did?” she gently probed.

“I’m going to be real honest with you. When I’m with you, for whatever reason, my good sense seems to escape me.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh and slowly shook his head. “And that’s all the confession I intend to make,” he added, shifting the serious tone to a lighter one.

Naomi lowered her gaze, unable to withstand the intensity of his eyes. She fumbled with her fork, just as the waitress approached their table with two bowls of fresh fruit, much to her relief.

“Coffee or tea?” the waitress asked.

“Tea,” they said in unison, then looked at each other and laughed.

“Coming right up.”

“If nothing else, we have tea in common,” Naomi said.

“Do you really think that’s all we have in common?” he asked, his words taking on a probing, teasing tone.

“Time will tell.”

He lifted his glass and tipped it partially in her direction. “Touché’

“You were saying that you’d been thinking of what we could do today.”

“I thought you might like to go into town and look around at some of the shops. We could have lunch there, and then I thought we could take the tour up into the mountains and see some of the mansions. The nightlife is pretty great, parties all over. I mean…I may be jumping ahead of myself. I’m sure you came here with some plans of your own, so—”

“No.” She held up her hand. “Sounds wonderful. I really didn’t have a clue about what to do with myself for a whole two weeks. I looked at a few of the brochures, but…” She shrugged her right shoulder.

“I totally understand. So we’ll squeeze in everything that we can.”

And then it would be over, she thought. But she wouldn’t worry about that now. She’d have plenty of time for that.

The waitress returned with their tea and brought a platter of codfish cakes and callaloo. The spicy aroma was mouthwatering, and before they realized it, they’d tossed aside all propriety and dug in.

“Oh, my goodness,” Naomi muttered, finishing off her third fish cake. “These are incredible.”

“Hmm,” Brice murmured with his mouth full. “It’s my favorite.”

“Now it’s mine, too.”

The restaurant began to slowly fill up with hotel guests, just as Brice and Naomi finished up their meal.

“I’m going to go to my room and get a few things,” Naomi said. “What time did you want to leave?”

“I have some calls to make.” He checked his watch. “How about we meet in the lobby about ten?”

“See you then.” She started to move away.

Brice caught her wrist. She stopped and turned, her eyes widened in question.

He kissed her. “See you soon.”

Her heart tumbled around in her chest. “Can’t wait.”

He let her go and she walked off, keenly aware of his eyes on her until she turned the corner toward her the side of the elevator banks. It was only then that she dared to breathe. She pressed the button and tugged on her lip with her teeth, removing the last of her lip gloss.

A trill of excitement, like a high note on a sax, rippled through her as the elevator ascended. She got off on her floor and walked down the corridor to her room.

She slid the key card through the slot and pushed the door open, just as her cell phone buzzed in her purse. While stepping inside, she pulled out her phone and saw that the call was from Alexis. She pressed Talk.

“Hey, Lexi.”

“Hi, I got your message. You called pretty late. Is everything all right? You were rambling.”

“I know, I know.” She walked fully into the room and kicked off her sandals, then plopped down on the club chair. She put her feet up on the matching ottoman. “Where do I begin? I guess I should tell you that I took your advice.”

“What! Now that’s what I’m talking about. And it worked, didn’t it?”

Naomi blew out a breath that preceded her smile. “Better than I could have imagined.”

“Let me hear it, and don’t leave anything out.”

Naomi brought Alexis up to date, including her afternoon and evening plans with Brice.

“Whoa. I don’t know what to say, Naomi. Other than you are a damned good student. I knew all those smarts you had would come in handy outside of a classroom.”

They laughed.

“But I do hate lying. He seems like the kind of man I would want to be with. But now…”

“Listen, this is all about now. Not tomorrow or the day after. Enjoy yourself. Get loose. Get some old-fashioned loving with a fine, intelligent man. Then you pack your bags at the end of next week and come back to the real world.”

Naomi sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. I may as well enjoy it while I can.”

“And girl, I know I don’t have to tell you to use your own protection. I mean of course, if it gets that far.”

Naomi flushed. She could barely imagine what it might be like to make love with Brice Lawrence. Her heart started racing just thinking about it. “I will, but I doubt it will go that far.”

“Why? You said he told you that if he had his way he would be curling your toes. Well, not in those exact words, but you know what I mean. Sounds like he’s hot for you.” She paused. “Look, men do it all the time. Remember Stella in Terry McMillan’s How Stella Got Her Groove Back?

“No.”

Alexis shook her head. “Anyway, you need to get your groove back. I mean, come on Nay, there hasn’t been anyone of note in your life since Trevor, and that was almost two years ago. If you don’t use it, it might just dry up.”

“Oh, stop,” she chided, mildly embarrassed. She hadn’t thought about Trevor in a long time, and that took some doing. They’d been seeing each other for nearly a year. She’d thought that he was the one. He was a professor at Morehouse, intelligent, fun, sexy—but a liar. He’d lied to her for the entire time they were together. All along he’d been seeing someone else, and she didn’t find out until she got a call from his fiancée! That nearly broke her. She’d never been so hurt and humiliated in her life.

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