Barefoot at Sunset (Barefoot Bay Timeless Book 1) (7 page)

“Nothing.”

He leaned back and raised his eyebrows. “Didn’t you just set rules for complete honesty? Something is wrong, I can see it.”

Nothing was wrong, but the reaction in her body when he pulled her closer was…unexpected. And powerful. And stimulating.

And the last thing she wanted or needed was a man who made her feel
stimulated
.

“I don’t know.” She glanced away, his gaze a little too intense for her. “This whole thing is…spontaneous. That’s not how I roll.”

“You jumped on a plane to go on your honeymoon alone,” he reminded her.

“And look how well that turned out.”

“It’s not too bad…” He brushed some hair off her cheek, the graze of his knuckles on her skin just making everything worse. “So far.”

Her eyes shuttered at the touch and his deep voice.

“But I promised platonic,” he added. “You have my word on that.”

Too bad, whispered a devil in her ear. “Still, the whole thing scares me a little,” she admitted.

“What part?” he asked.

“The part…” She looked up at him, almost immediately lost in the depths of crystal-blue eyes. “The part when it starts to feel like it’s not pretend.”

He looked into her eyes for the longest time, saying nothing. She could feel her pulse pound and her breath catch, hear the squawk of a distant gull and the splash of water, smell the spicy, woodsy scent of him and feel his warmth.

That would be
this
part, right now, she thought, as every sense was overloaded and time stood still.

“You know, I have a theory about fear,” he said. “Any fear can be conquered by facing it head on. Just staring it right down and doing what scares you most. Three times.”

“Three times?” she asked.

“That’s the magic fear-beating number,” he assured her. “I had to parachute out of planes three times before I could deal with the sheer terror of it. First time I went rock-climbing? Same thing. Anything that comes with inherent risks needs to be faced down three times.”

“So, how would that work here, exactly?”

“Depends on what you’re scared of. Telling people a lie? Being trapped in a villa with me? Wanting to—”

“Kiss you,” she whispered.

His eyebrows raised. “That’s what you’re afraid of?”

She swallowed and managed a nod. Afraid to do it…afraid that it might never happen. “I mean, out in public, if we’re going to get people to believe we’re really engaged, then we’ll probably…kiss.”

“You’re absolutely right,” he agreed. “So you know what we have to do.”

“Three times?”

He smiled slowly. “Fast learner. I like that.” He inched closer. “I like that a lot.”

“On the mouth?”

“That’s usually where I go first, but we can start with a peck on the cheek and build up, if you like.”

“Okay…but…wait.” She put a hand on his chest, wishing it weren’t so hard and that she didn’t want to press down so much. “How did you do this? How did you get me from ‘gee, is this the smartest move?’ to mouth-kissing?”

“I told you, face your fears.” He lowered his face and brought his mouth a slight centimeter from hers.

She leaned into him and kissed his mouth very softly, barely touching, just the slightest whisper of a kiss, just enough to…melt. And thank God there would be two more after this.

Chapter Five

Heat sparked at the mouth-to-mouth contact, shooting a lightning bolt of arousal through Mark, shocking him as if he’d stuck his finger in a live socket.

What the holy hell was
that
?

Besides…nice. He felt his eyes close and his head tip to feel a little more of her lips against his, enjoying the sudden rush of pleasure that rolled through him. He broke the kiss and instantly went for number two, a little deeper and a lot longer.

Kiss number three included a brush of their tongues, swirling against each other until he felt pressure on his chest.

That was her hand, slightly fisted, unintentionally grabbing some of the material of his shirt.

He finally broke the contact, cursing himself for not insisting on five or six, or a dozen, attempts to conquer her fear.

Emma stayed exactly as she was, in the classic pose of a well-kissed woman, head tilted back, eyes closed, lips slightly parted. All he wanted to do was kiss her again.

He put his finger on her lips instead of his mouth and went for casual. “Okay, got that out of the way.”

“Yeah.” When he lifted his finger, she replaced it with her own, lightly touching like a person checks a tender spot for pain. “Out of the way.”

“So, we’re good now?” he said.

“Good. Great. Just…” She eased back and looked at him as if her eyes were just focusing. “This is a really, really,
really
bad idea.”

“You think?”

“I know.” Stepping farther away, she shook her head a little. “I don’t want…I can’t…I’m not going to…I just got out of…”

He smiled. “I get the idea, Emma. I swear I’m not suggesting anything like that.”

“Like what? Like that kiss? ’Cause, come on. You felt it. I felt it. We both felt the little earthquakes of trouble in that kiss.”

Not so little, he mused.

She let out an exasperated breath. “I just wanted a place to stay and lick my
wounds
, not a
man
.”

He laughed softly.

“I just need to figure out the rest of my life, Mark, and you seemed so nice and like you were in a bind, and I wanted to stay here more than anything, and it all made some sense until…”

Until that kiss.

“Look, Emma, if you want to bag this whole idea, that’s fine. You can still stay here in the villa, and I’ll just have a fiancée in the background, or we’ll come clean with Lacey and go our separate ways.” It stank, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to force her into it if she was uncomfortable.

She nodded, sending a stab of disappointment into his belly. “I really think I should go home tomorrow.” Taking a few steps away, she managed a smile. “You’re really nice, Mark. Like, way too nice. The last thing I need is…kissing.” She started around the pool back into the house. “The
last
thing.”

“Mark! Mark Solomon!” A female voice floated up from the beach, a few feet away on the other side of the path. He turned to see a woman he didn’t recognize loping closer. She wore a bright pink beach cover-up, strapless, to the ground, her short dark hair spiking in multiple directions, which was probably not supposed to look like a cat that fell into hair gel, but did. “I missed the meeting today, but I heard you were here.”

He frowned as she came closer, no name coming to mind, vaguely aware of Emma slipping out of sight.

“It’s me! Margot Hutchinson!”

No recollection. None. “Hey, Margot.” He fought the urge to turn to the villa and call Emma back.

“You do remember me! I thought you might. We had social studies together, though I’m a few years younger than you.”

She flashed a pretty smile. Not as pretty as the mouth he just kissed, however.

“How are you?” he asked, hoping he hid the complete lack of interest in his question. Because the only thing he was interested in right now was the woman who disappeared into the villa. He had to convince her leaving was a bad idea.

“I’m better now that I heard you need a Dance of the Decades partner!” Margot came as close as she could get to the raised pool deck of the villa without actually climbing up to reach him. “You might remember I was the captain of the dance team, and I have my own studio in Tampa now. I’m a ballroom expert and…” She finally stopped and looked up, her smile turning to a serious look of intent. “We could win, Mark, I know we could. And I want to win.”

“Win,” he said, stealing a glance over his shoulder at the villa.
Why did you leave me now, Emma?
I need you.

“Hey, listen, Mark,” the woman continued. “I know it’s been a while, but I was so sorry when I heard about Julia all those years ago.”

And there it was. Exactly what he wanted to avoid.

“I think about Julia all the time,” the woman continued. “Every time I hear
Like a Virgin
. She and I used to have gym class together, and we made up a little dance to it.” She lifted her hands and did a little boogie. “Touched…for the very first time,” she sang. Off-key. “That line always made her blush, and I bet I know why.” She let her voice rise in a little singsong tease.

Really, Julia? You dropped that ring in my lap to get me here…for this?
So he could have inane conversations with Margot Whoevershewas?

“I figured you’d be at Lacey’s tonight,” Margot powered on. “But I didn’t want to wait to ask you, because you’ll be in huge demand. I heard Libby Chesterfield making noise about you, but she isn’t a dancer. I’m a professional!” She punctuated that with the widest, whitest smile and outstretched arms. “Mark and Margot, what a team, right? What do you say?”

“I say…” Shit. That’s what he’d say. Just…
shit
.

“Mark? Honey? Are you ready?” Emma’s voice came from inside the house, floating over the pool like a warm, welcome breeze. “Shouldn’t we leave soon?” She came outside, just as fresh and beautiful as the first time, only now, there was a truly conspiratorial spark in her eyes. “Who are you talking to, sweetheart?”

He turned to the woman on the path, noticing the smile had quickly faded.

“It’s Margot…from the committee.”

“Margot Hutchinson,” the woman supplied. “And you are…”

Emma breezed around the pool, her dark hair fluttering as she walked. “I’m Emma DeWitt, Mark’s fiancée. It’s nice to meet you, Margot.”

Margot’s jaw dropped a little. “Oh, hi. Emma. Mark’s…wow. I don’t think anyone knew you’d gotten engaged.”

“It’s a pretty recent development,” he said, sliding an arm around Emma as she got next to him.

“A month ago,” Emma said. “In Peru. At the Sacred Tigers…monastery…nest. Have you heard of it?”

Mark bit his lip to keep from laughing.

“No.” Margot’s gaze slipped over Emma, checking her out. “Um, congratulations,” she added, her bubbly enthusiasm waning.

He glanced at Emma again, a mix of admiration and sympathy. She didn’t have to do this for him, but every time someone got close to his tender spot, she jumped in for the save.

“You sure you still want to go tonight?” he asked Emma. “I thought you weren’t…feeling well.”

“And let you go alone?” She gave a playful nudge. “Not a chance. I just got too much sun. Will we see you at the dinner party, Margot?”

“Yes, definitely.” The woman took a few steps backward, obviously embarrassed and bewildered. “You’ll be Mark’s dance partner, I take it?”

Emma dropped her head on his shoulder, a move that felt ridiculously natural. “Of course.”

“Great. Then…see you in a bit. Bye!” She tried for bright as she walked off and Emma gave a little wave.

When she was out of earshot, he turned to her. “What changed your mind?”

“I don’t know, I just…”

“Truth, Emma.”

She looked back at the villa, a frown on her face, then back at him. “You’ll be shark bait if I don’t circle you in these waters. I can’t stand to see a grown man eaten alive.”

“You pity me? Is that the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the unvarnished truth?”

She hesitated, then shook her head. “I really liked that kiss,” she whispered, so soft he barely heard her.

Pulling her closer, he kept his voice just as soft. “I liked it, too.”

Chapter Six

“How did we meet?” Emma asked as they left the villa and turned onto the stone path that led to Lacey and Clay Walker’s home at the northern most edge of the resort.

“Good question,” he said, taking her hand as they walked. The gesture was perfectly harmless; the quiver in her belly that it caused was not. “We’ll get asked that a lot, and we should have the same answer.”

“We could say online through LoveInc.” She leaned into him. “Keep that stock price high.”

He gave a soft choke. “Not in a million years would I meet someone online.”

“Isn’t that like Mrs. Fields not eating carbs?”

“It’s like Mrs. Fields not eating poison cookies. There are some serious whack jobs out there.”

“Says the man who asked a perfect stranger to marry him twelve minutes after he found her lurking outside his front door.”

He laughed, pulling her hand to bring her closer. “You’re funny, you know that?”

“Don’t change the subject, George. How did we meet?”

“George? It’s Mark. If you can’t remember my name, we’ll never pull this off.”

“George, like Clooney. You remind me of him, except for the blue eyes. Hasn’t anyone ever told you that?”

He rolled those blue eyes, which she took as a yes. “Okay, how we met.” He thought for a moment, glancing at her as if he were trying to imagine where he’d meet a woman like her. “I met you on a plane. It’s where I spend half my life anyway.”

“But I don’t. A subway would be more appropriate.”