Slippery When Wet

THEY STROLLED DOWN the shadowed path that wound through the jungle toward the beach. Dev tangled his fingers with Taylor’s. “I couldn’t believe it when I first got down here,” he murmured. “I thought I’d walked into another world. Home was gone.” It hadn’t been quite as easy as that, if he was honest. It had taken days in the hot sun, hours of swimming with the schools of bright fish in the tranquil blue depths of the reefs to erase the memory of finding his fiancée with another man. No matter that he’d known deep down they were a bad match, the betrayal had scored his pride. To smooth it over, he’d flirted with a couple of the beach babes but something had felt wrong each time. Each time, he’d ducked out with a simple kiss good-night.

Somehow, he didn’t see himself doing that with Taylor.

They followed the trail out of the lush plantings to circle around the edge of the pool, now glowing pale turquoise. At this hour, the area was deserted, the guests all up at the theater area dancing and watching the show. They had the beach to themselves.

A vivid red hibiscus blossom, fallen from its bush, lay on the pavement. Dev stopped to pick it up. Turning to Taylor, he tucked it behind her ear. “Now you look like an island girl.”

“You’re the one who looks like an islander, with that tan and the batik and the shells…”

He fingered them. “The clerk at the hotel store threw them in when I bought my trunks.”

“I don’t have to ask if she was a she,” Taylor said dryly.

“She was indeed, and also about sixteen. Not my style.”

“You’re not into giggling Mark Anthony fans?”

“I’m not into girls.” His eyes darkened. “I’m more interested in women.”

Taylor swallowed and the silence stretched out for a beat, then two. In the darkness, the crude stone heads of the showers had a brooding, almost menacing cast, like vengeful gods come down to earth. Beyond, Dev could hear the hiss of the waves. He reached out and caught her hand again. “Let’s go out by the water.”

The moonlit beach was dotted with the shadowed bulk of palms. They slipped off their shoes and stepped onto the sand. Away from people and noise, Taylor could hear the small rustles of the night creatures going about their business. To one side, a crab scuttled into a stand of mangrove. And the waves grew louder.

Dev led her past the palm trees and onto the dock. Their feet made hollow thumps as they walked along the creosote coated planks. Thick ropes swung from squat posts, making only a passing pretense at security. It didn’t matter, really; in such shallow, warm water, a person falling in could hardly get hurt. Out on the end of the dock, a red light atop a tall post winked out to sea.

The water stretched away from them black and fathomless. Far in the distance, on the coast of the mainland, a few lights glimmered. Above them, stars painted their patterns on a midnight velvet sky.

Dev looked up at them. “The stars are different down here, have you noticed?” Somehow, that had been the thing that had finally allowed him to let go the frustration and betrayal, that sense of being somewhere different. He’d come out to the dock at night a lot those first weeks. Gradually, the peace had seeped into his soul. “That was the first thing I looked for down here, the Southern Cross.” He pointed. “You can barely see it on the horizon.”

Taylor stepped close to him and he felt the soft swell of her breasts brush against his arm. “Where?”

He moved so that she was in front of him and pointed over one of her shoulders so she could sight along his finger. “There, there, and…there.”

“Do you know any other constellations?”

“I was pretty into it when I was a kid.” It had been a good excuse to get out of the house and away from the fighting. “There’s Sagittarius and Scorpio,” he said, pointing them out. Taylor’s hair brushed against his arm, silky and light.

“How come all of the constellations are always critters?”

“They’re not. You’ve got Perseus and Orion, they were warriors, and Cassiopiea, she was a seer.”

“Always alone, though. Don’t you think all those lonely shepherds that named the original constellations would have seen lovers somewhere?”

“Sure. They just didn’t make it into the astronomy books.”

She leaned back against him and he wrapped his arms around her. “I like the idea of lovers painted on the sky.”

“How about earthbound lovers?” He nuzzled her hair, breathing in her scent.

Taylor turned in his arms. In her eyes, he read promise, challenge and mischief. Then she pressed her mouth to his. It jolted through him down to his toes. He made himself concentrate on the soft, nibbling temptation, holding back from letting his hands rove over her body, that sleek, alluring frame. He could taste the faint sweetness of the margarita she’d had at the theater.

Then she stepped away. “How about lovers in the water?” she asked, dropping her shoes.

Exhilaration tore through him. “You don’t have a suit,” he pointed out.

“Mmm, you’re right, and I’d hate to ruin this nice dress.” She reached down and pulled the pink silk up, sliding it off over her head.

Underneath, she wore nothing.

His mouth went dry. Her skin glowed pale and lovely in the moonlight, rounded breasts tipped with the darker shadows of her aureole. Before he could look his fill, she turned and walked to the edge of the dock.

“I think you’re running behind, Mr. Carson. You’d better catch up,” she said, flashing a look at him over her shoulder.

And dove into the water.

3

THE SALTWATER CLOSED AROUND her body and slid against her skin, warm as an embrace. Like a sea creature, she arrowed through the water, feeling a rush of illicit arousal at the brush of liquid against her bare nipples, her bare behind. She burst up through the surface laughing at her own audacity.

And blinked. The dock was empty in the moonlight. Taylor gave a quick glance around, raking her fingers through her wet hair. He was here somewhere, she knew. A man like Dev Carson didn’t walk away from a challenge. She felt the thrill of expectation.

Then the water next to her exploded and she jumped and whirled to see him rearing out of the water.

She put a hand to her chest, suddenly intensely aware of her bare breasts above the waterline. “You just took ten years off my life, you know.”

“Did you think I was a sea monster?”

Actually, with the water streaming from his shoulders and his hair soaked and disheveled, she thought he looked more like some kind of a sea god. A surge of anticipation ran through her as he moved nearer. “You can never tell what’s swimming around,” she said, then blinked as he disappeared. Seconds ticked by, then she jumped at the feeling of a slippery hand sliding down her back.

He surfaced a few feet away. “Well, you know, you’re taking your chances, swimming at night. You never know what’s going to decide to take a bite out of you.” He stepped closer and a little shiver of anticipation ran through her.

“I know. Something just fondled me,” she said.

“Those damned fish are getting more forward all the time.”

“Maybe it wasn’t a fish. Maybe it was some other kind of critter.”

“All the more reason you should stay close so I can protect you. I’ll keep an eye out for the bad guys.”

“You must have good night vision.” She swayed lightly in the soft pressure of a swell.

“I eat lots of carrots.”

“Planning ahead?”

“It never hurts to be prepared.”

“Were you a Boy Scout?”