Riding the Waves

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.