HIGH TIDE (19 page)

That’s what she looked and acted like.

Shaking away the unsettling thought, Briana searched the vanity and smiled at the yellow sticky note that reminded Nick of a meeting next Tuesday.
Or was it last Tuesday?

The formica counter held no decor. There were only masculine necessities such as a razor, toothpaste, and a toothbrush next to a plastic
Jack In The Box
cup.

The bathroom was wood-paneled and brightly lit from the shell lamp above the mirror. Briana drew in a breath and smelled Nick’s scent. Her pupils widened in
the reflective glass.
Everything
—her hair—her body—it all smelled of his soap, of his shampoo.

Conjuring up an image of the man,
she wanted nothing more than to feel those strong arms around her. The turmoil of the night, and all the moments leading to this revelation faded. Unexpectedly desperate, she hoped that when she opened the door, he would be lying in bed waiting for her.

A flick of her wrist flipped off the light switch. She hesitated a second until her eyes acclimated,
and then she slid open the panel.

The room was empty.

Disappointed, but not surprised, she was still tempted by the queen-size bed. Fatigue stalled her efforts as she crawled and collapsed against a pillow that smelled of Nick. She drank in that scent and fantasized about the man.

Three long breaths and she fell asleep.

***   

With a scream muffled by the pillow, Briana shot out of her nightmare. Bewildered by her surroundings
— the huge oak dresser and enchanting seascapes on the walls—lucidity finally returned. Her heart dulled to a soft thump as she glanced at the bedside clock.
3:18am.
Straining to hear any sign of Nick, all she heard was the soft moan of the trade winds that invaded the bungalow.

Briana tossed aside the sheets that had knotted during her restless slumber. Her feet landed on the soft throw rug as she crept towards the bedroom door and inched it open. The house was quiet, with only the whispering hiss of a curtain that billowed inside an
open window. A brief inspection confirmed that she was alone.

Drawn towards the French doors, she stood with her hand against them and looked out at the moon illuminating the shore in diverse shades of blue. Midnight was the solid banyan trees, and cerulean was the sand. Azure was the ocean, and the
mysterious cobalt of night lined the dark horizon.

Everything dimmed into shades of gray when she located the lone silhouette standing beneath a coconut palm.

Solitude.

It was a cloak she often wore. Looking at this man, she felt his isolation and connected with it.

On bare feet, she descended from the lanai, drawn towards Nick. He wore no shirt, and the moon seemed to covet his skin with velvet fingers caressing muscles in a manner that she longed to do.

Even though desire emboldened her, she still hesitated beyond the fringe of shadows.

***   

Nick heard the door slide open. Briana’s tentative tread soon followed across the sand. He resisted the urge to turn around, and instead, focused on the sea.

Briana advanced with the diffidence of a wild animal approaching a child’s extended hand.  The tread halted and he knew that if he moved now, she would most likely bolt.

In seconds the muffled footfalls resumed. He thought he would go mad when he sensed Briana directly behind him, yet her silence persisted. Like the
feathery brush of a palm frond, he felt her tremulous touch on his arm.

Slowly, he turned.
  

B
riana raised her hands to his chest, sculpting him with her fingers—testing the resiliency, ensuring that he was real and not a conjured ghost of the sea.

“Nick.” It was a whisper. It was a sigh.

Nick reached out and touched her hips, gently coaxing her closer. Her breath hitched when they connected. Not hesitating, he slid his palm up her back and around her side to graze her breast. Briana arched into that caress, an innocent invitation for him to continue.

Beneath the thin tee shirt, Nick felt every curve of Briana’s body. The sensation was erotic, voyeuristic knowing he wasn’t actually seeing her naked. Gently, his thumb grazed her nipple, inciting a gasp as Briana watched him with wide eyes. He held that gaze as his other hand rose and captured her, massaging what fit so perfectly in his palm. He ached to toss the thin fabric aside
and taste what his hands now cherished.

“Briana,” he rasped
.

Seemingly emboldened,
she leaned forward and brushed her lips across his collarbone. Using his body for leverage, she tipped up and dusted the pulse in his throat with a timid flick of her tongue.

Nick was paralyzed. His hands froze directly atop her breasts, the moist stroke on his neck
a foreign sensation—and so intoxicating. He dipped his head and captured her mouth, making them both weak by the force of his kiss.

Sinking into that heat
, his hands dropped to Briana’s hips, where he hauled her against his hardness and heard the rumble of approval deep in her throat. That sexy sound turned him on so much he dragged the t-shirt off of her in one impatient move.

For a second they stood parted
by the motion. Briana’s body was a visual feast that he committed to memory. High breasts did injustice to his imagination. A long slim abdomen flared into the hips he was now kneading with his fingers.

And those legs.

God bless her, Briana had legs that made him dream of a variety of ways to wrap them around him.

“Come closer,” he issued a husky command.

She responded without hesitation.

His hands sculpted her, feeling the trail of goosebumps explode across her skin. She q
uivered under his touch and begged with a whimper, tugging at the top button of his jeans as his lips captured hers.

“Let’s go inside,” he said
against her mouth.

“No,” she mewled, kissing him back.

Briana was like lava in his grasp. Nick yanked the zipper down on his jeans and growled when he felt her fingers there, driving him to the brink.

“Baby,” he uttered hoarsely. “If you don’t stop, I’m going to make love to you right here in the sand, and without a blanket it’s going to hurt.”

“No,” She shook her head in between kisses. “Out there, Nick. Make love to me
out there.”

He jerked
back.

Setting Briana back
a step, he looked into eyes that had grown hazy and waited until she blinked and focused.

“The water? You want to go out in
the water
?”

Her shimmering glance lingered on the placid surf and then she turned to him.

“Yes.”

“Briana,” Nick caressed her face, pushing back silken hair. He needed a moment to regain control. Her assault of the senses was something he had no defense for.

The outcome was inevitable, though.

He was going to have her.

Every fevered beat of his pulse reminded him of that fact. But he wanted it to be right. He wanted it to be right for her. He wanted to take any shred of pain or indecision in those exotic eyes, and turn them into passion.

But could he ever make Briana feel as damned hot as he did right now? Blanketed in the moon’s blue veil, her body
, with its endless legs and high breasts made his head shake in wonder.

“No?” she asked bleakly, misinterpreting the gesture.

Eyes level with hers, he reached for the waistband of his jeans and yanked them and his boxers down, stepping out to stand naked before her. Briana’s eyes widened.

***

Shadowed contours revealed muscles that even now flexed with the effort not to touch her. Nick’s thighs were those of a swimmer, a hiker, a powerful man.

Briana
leaned forward and grazed his chest with the tips of her fingers. Her pointer spiraled down the dark trail of hair until she heard his satisfying intake of breath.

Without warning Nick bent and laced an arm behind
her knees, hoisting her into his arms. Her heart raced, but she clung to him and felt each thump echoed by his own.

“For the record, Ms. Holt, you are the hottest contractor I’ve ever laid my eyes on.”

She smiled and linked her arms around his neck. “Well, as you are the only geologist I know, I have no comparison, but—” her words were stolen by his mouth.

Aggressively, Nick dipped inside her, using his tongue to mate.

Progress was slow as he paused, either to kiss her or to acclimate her, and she reveled in each intermission.

The sound of water
cascading off his legs made her imagine a mist enveloping them. The tepid ocean clashed with the heat of his body and produced a vaporous cocoon. With the sea lapping gently at her dangling toes, she tensed.  Immediately, the arms around her constricted.

“Are you okay?” he whispered.

She nodded, and drew his head down so that their mouths could connect.

Nick took another step as the water rippled around his waist. The buoyancy made Briana feel weightless in his arms.

“I’m not going to let you go.”

“You’re not going to have a choice,” she murmured. “I’m going to be glued to you.”

When her probing tongue glanced the base of his ear she felt him tremble. It emboldened her.

“Actually,” she pointed out. “I’ll be so close you’ll practically be inside me.”

“
Practically?”

The banter was provocative and managed to release some of the tension.

“I mean it, Briana.” His voice was grave as he cradled her tighter. “You don’t have to do this,” he whispered. “I can tell you in all honesty I would want you anywhere. It doesn’t have to be in the ocean.”

***

Struggling to be freed, Briana shifted until Nick released her legs. The friction of them sliding down his thighs was torture.

With her arms still hooked around his neck, Briana
looked up and he jolted at what he saw.

Trust.

It was disarming, but more seductive than any physical act.

“Please,” she pleaded, the sound nearly stolen by the breeze.

Slowly, he dipped and touched her lips with his own. It was an airy brush that he repeated over and over—each time extending the contact. This kiss was not a physical outlet. It was a transfer of faith, a harbinger of emotions to come, and it was more delicious than anything he had ever experienced.

“
Nick”.

To hear his name wrenched so deeply from her, and to hear it repeated in an ardent mantra as she hooked her leg behind his—well, it was too much. He re
ached into the water and hoisted her other thigh, straddling her around his waist, cupping her in place with his hands. For just a breath he smiled before he branded her mouth.

Gone was gentility. Now they both craved a union as
he held tight when Briana ground her hips against him, her tongue matching the motion. He met her instinctive thrusts and before either knew it, he was inside of her, and all rational thought was gone.

There was no room for demons from the past here. No room for fiends from the present. All that existed were themselves and this
fusion.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

She slept.

Briana smelled fresh of the shower they had shared, and Nick was fascinated by the soft curve of her chin resting above a hand that even in slumber reached out to touch him. He dusted a kiss across those fingers before retreating from the bed to stand by the French doors.

Aglow in a rose gossamer shawl, the ocean breathed in the life of a new day. Seagulls soared in lazy circles over first one broad sail, then two in the distance. Palms bobbed languidly, and the Banyans rustled in the breeze, resonating like a cascade of crystals.

Nick glanced over his shoulder and held his breath.

Of course she was stunning, but that was by no means what terrified him. Briana was not a person to use her beauty as a tool. Last night he experienced emotions that were foreign, captivating, and alarming. A slight smile tugged at his lips as he watched her. Those emotions persisted until he fled to the safer view outside.

God, he’d had women before. He almost married one. How come his stomach didn’t ache the way it did now—where just the brief separation of several feet had him yearning to dive back into bed with her? Reaching a hand up to massage the back of his neck, Nick hung his head and contemplated where they would go from here.

***
  

The moment she felt his weight lift from the mattress, Briana woke. Her fingers fell on the empty spread as she watched Nick’s tapered back retreat to the lanai doors. Profiled against the rising sun, he was a formidable silhouette. Several intimate muscles throbbed at the recollection of his strength as she sat up.