The group surged, eager to see whatever it was she’d glimpsed in the ravine. Marin was crowded away from the walled edge of the ravine; she came perilously close to the edge of the narrow sidewalk. Her attention still on the animal, she took another step, missed the curb and stumbled. Jason caught her by the upper arms before she fell into the street. He drew her back against his chest. “Whoa,” he said, his heart in his throat. “Watch where you’re going, Marin,” he snapped.
“Thanks,” she said, her tone short. “I’ll be sure to do that.” She moved away from him.
He hadn’t meant to sound so harsh, but she could’ve fallen right into the heavy traffic. He took a deep breath to calm his nerves. Her scent still filled his nose, and the way her curves had pressed against him had sent heat unfurling below his belt.
Marintha Allen was a walking danger zone. Why did he find himself so drawn to her? He caught up with her. “You gave me a scare.” He kept himself between her and the street. “You OK?”
“I’m fine.” She cast him a disgruntled look. “Thanks for your help.”
He didn’t like the hurt he caught in her blue eyes, but he didn’t know what to say to make it better. Did he want to make it better? Something to think about.
How embarrassing. She didn’t need another reminder of her clumsiness, especially not from the man whose nose she’d broken. Marin glanced at Jason, who walked beside her down the lane to Tulum. He had stuck pretty close since she’d
almost
taken a tumble in Playa del Carmen. He probably thought she needed a keeper. Not exactly the impression she wanted to project.
His nearness made it difficult to concentrate. He must take his workouts pretty seriously, because his chest, shoulders and biceps were finely tuned. In fact, Jason Doherty looked as if he didn’t own a single inch of wasted skin.
What d
oes he look like naked?
Do
lawyerly types get tattoos?
Gulp.
She used her hat to fan her overheated face.
The curtness of his tone when he’d grabbed her had been jarring, while being pressed up against him had caused a reaction of an entirely different nature. What did he think of her? Why on earth should she care? She’d made it through twenty-eight years without his help—thank you very much—and she’d survive the next twenty-eight just fine without him.
Sure, she got distracted now and then, but didn’t everybody? An image flashed through her mind—Jason, his nose bleeding all over his sweater. That image was followed by another—Jason, covered in her coffee. Groaning inwardly, she put a little more distance between them. He closed the gap.
Great.
He
r own personal
hover-ready
caretaker
.
Their guide pointed out the almond trees growing wild, and he shared some history about the Mayan civilization. Marin tried really hard to listen to what Raul had to say, but it was no use. Jason’s presence dominated her space and robbed her of coherency.
She and her tour mates entered the walled city through an arched stone passageway so narrow they had to go single file. Once through, the site laid out before her stole her breath. A large field—five acres at least, with rocky formations jutting from the ground—held several ancient pyramid-like stone structures, some with the decorative carvings above the windows still visible. The settlement was arranged in a circle, and an ancient wall of stone surrounded the perimeter all the way to the very edge of the cliffs overlooking the ocean. “Oh… wow.”
“Wow is right.” Jason came to stand beside her again. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? People lived here as far back as 564 AD. That’s close to fifteen hundred years ago. Hard to imagine.”
She nodded and reached into her purse for her camera. Their tour guide led them along a path, explaining how the Mayans lived back then.
“Look, Marin.” Jason nudged her and pointed. A large iguana rested under a tree, unconcerned with the human traffic invading its space.
“There’s another one.” She took a picture of the smaller lizard perched on the top corner of one of the Mayan buildings.
“Do you want me to take your picture in front of the ruins?” he asked.
“That would be great. Thanks.” She handed him her camera.
“Hey, how about letting me take a picture of you two together while you’re at it?” Aidan said. “It’ll be great for the website and social media.”
“Sure.” Jason handed their cameras to Aidan. “What do you say, Marin?”
“OK.” She couldn’t very well say no, could she? Why would Jason want a picture of the two of them together, anyway? He led her to the center of the rocky field, so the largest pyramid rose up behind them. He slung his arm casually around her shoulders and smiled into the camera. Puzzled, and her insides quivering, she stared up at him. Click. Pause. Click, click. “Wait.” Her gaze flew to Aidan. “I wasn’t ready.”
Jason chuckled and strolled beside her back to the rest of their group. “I’m sure the pictures will be great.”
Aidan handed them their cameras, and Jason studied the image on his screen. “Perfect.”
She studied her own screen. Aidan had caught her staring up at Jason like a lovesick thirteen-year-old in the throes of her first crush.
This
would be the image plastered on SLS’s website, Facebook page, Twitter and who knew where else? Anne would see it for sure, along with thousands of others.
Wonderful.
Would anyone notice if she spent the rest of the cruise in her stateroom? She had a book, a balcony… room service.
Their tour guide set them all free to go off on their own. “You can explore the ruins or head down the bluff for a swim, but you must be on the bus by two o’clock, or you’ll have to find jobs in the surrounding malls,” the guide exhorted. “And they don’t pay much.”
“Want to go see the view from the bluffs?” Jason took a few more pictures of the stone structure they stood beside.
“Sure.” She eyed Jason, wondering what to make of him. They climbed the stairs and followed the path leading to the edge of the cliffs. A scenic overlook veered off the main path, where more fat iguanas sunbathed on the rocks, perilously close to the cliff’s edge. The view was absolutely breathtaking, with lush tropical vegetation and the bluffs stretching for miles along the coastline.
She caught a flash of color in the distance. Someone was parasailing, and the red of the parachute provided a vivid contrast to the bluer-than-blue horizon and the aquamarine of the ocean. She stopped, breathed in the fresh air and brought up her camera. “This is so gorgeous.”
Grinning, she turned to Jason. “Raul said the Mayans were really class-conscious, and the commoners had to live outside of the walled city, but you know what? They all shared the same surroundings. The common folks had the same amazing vista as the royals.”
“A million-dollar view.” Jason gazed at her, his sunglasses reflecting her image on the lenses.
The feeling that something good waited for her right around the corner tickled at her awareness—like a promise on the verge of being whispered into her ear. She shook it off, blaming it on the magic of being on a cruise. Pampered, surrounded by luxury under starry skies while floating on the ocean—who wouldn’t go all romantic under circumstances like that?
“Don’t forget,” Aidan said, as he and Kelly strode up hand in hand, “tonight we’re all meeting at Club Fusion at eight. There’s a DJ and dance music.”
Marin’s insides clenched. She had never enjoyed clubbing. Too awkward. Too loud.
“We’re going for lunch and a beer or two in the village at that place our guide recommended,” Kelly added. “Want to join us?”
“Do you want to take a few more pictures first, Marin?” Jason asked.
She nodded.
“We’ll catch up,” Jason told them.
Again she was thrown off balance, and as nice as Jason seemed right now, she still had a few reservations about him. He’d wanted to blame the coffee shop for her mishap, and he’d been curt when preventing her from tumbling over the curb. Come to think of it, he must have been watching her pretty closely in order to see her misstep in time to catch her.
Hmm.
That shouldn’t make her go all tingly inside. Should it?
“I’m not crazy about the club scene,” he said, starting down the main path again. “How about you?”
She aimed her camera one last time at the iguanas lazing on the other side of the fence, one of them in the low branches of a tree growing out from the cliff. “Me either.”
“Do you like Italian food?” he asked, his tone casual.
“Sure.” Butterflies kicked up a ruckus in her midriff. “Who doesn’t?”
“Would you like to join me at Sabatini’s for dinner tonight? I’ve heard really good things about the food there from some of the other passengers.”
“Oh, I’d like that,” she said, her voice coming out way too breathy.
“Good. I’ll meet you at seven right outside the entrance. And maybe after dinner we can take a walk on the promenade deck.”
“All right. Sounds like a plan.” She took another picture. The local lizards obviously believed they now owned the valuable Mayan real estate. Jason leaned close, sending shivers down her spine.
“I heard our guide tell a few people that the locals eat iguanas.”
She gasped. “No!”
He nodded, his brow raised. “Said they taste just like chicken.”
The
b
lack
h
owler
m
onkeys native to Belize live in troops of four to eight
members
, with a territory of three to five acres. The
b
lack
h
owlers defend
their territory through the us
e of their voice
s
.
T
he sound the
male howler monkey makes can be heard from as far as a mile away.
Sometimes, the bark really is worse than the bite.
Jason’s palms were sweating. He shoved them into the pockets of his slacks and studied the menu posted on the wall outside of Sabatini’s. He hadn’t been this nervous about a date since he’d been a teen. What would he and Marin talk about? Did they have anything in common, other than their obvious mutual physical attraction? She was… disconcerting, but at the same time she was so damned appealing.
“Jason.”
He turned and his heart leapt at the sight of her. Her floral sundress and strappy sandals showed off her sexy legs. He’d always been a leg man. She’d put her hair up again, and a few soft curls had escaped to frame her face. Her blue eyes sparkled when they met his. The stupid, goofy smile he had absolutely no control over made his cheeks ache.
“You look nice.”
Beyond nice.
Good enough to eat.
“I hope you’re hungry.” Her answering smile sent his pulse racing.
“I am.”
Jason led her to the host, gave his name, and the two of them were escorted to a table by the bank of windows overlooking the ocean.
Marin’s gaze roamed around the restaurant. “This is lovely,” she said, as the host held out her chair for her.
A waiter in a crisp white jacket and black slacks appeared immediately. He placed their cloth napkins in their laps, opened their menus and placed them in their hands. “My name is Ransom, and I will be taking care of you this evening. Here is the wine and cocktail menu,” he said, tapping the thick folder at the center of the table. “I’ll give you a few moments to take a look before I return.”
“Thanks.” Jason picked up the thick leather-bound menu.
“Real flowers,” Marin murmured, touching the bud vase with the blue and yellow lilies inside. “Nice touch.”
“Do you like Chianti, Marin, or would you prefer something else?”
“Chianti is perfect.”
He glanced at her. Her attention was fully on their surroundings, and her expression was filled with delight. “Shall we share a bottle?” he asked.
“That would be great.” She continued to survey their surroundings, an enchanting smile gracing her lovely face. “This is such a gorgeous place. I love how the columns and white fences separate the seating, so the table groupings are more intimate. And the peach and blue tones in the carpet along with the frescoes painted on the walls give the place a warm and welcoming feel. It’s like we really are at an Italian bistro.”
“Is that the interior designer talking?”
A small smile blossomed, and she brought her attention back to him. “I guess.”
“Tell me about your store. I saw on your website you just opened this past September.”
Her brow rose. “You checked out my website?”
“Uh… sure.” He shrugged. “I have a new condo, and you’re an interior designer. I figured I’d check out your portfolio, maybe get some ideas.”
“Ah.” She nodded. “Yes, I’ve recently opened my own studio, but I grew up in the business. My mother is an interior designer, and she and my dad own three design centers. One in Rochester, which is where I grew up, one in Wayzata, and another in Edina. They cater to upper-echelon clients, while I provide services to those who want a professional touch but have budget constraints. I like the challenge.” She shrugged.