Her Perfect Getaway (3 page)

She pushed to her feet. “I’ll be
right back.”

Chapter Two

Elizabeth stared at her reflection
in the mirror. Maybe she should have given the bikini more thought
before she bought it. She’d been so excited that she could wear it,
she hadn’t considered being seen in public in it.

By a man she found extremely
attractive.

Who would be touching her. A
lot.

She hoped she didn’t run into any
of her friends on the way down to the beach. She grabbed her
crochet cover-up and hurried out.

He was back in the water. Uncanny
how she recognized him after knowing him less than twenty-four
hours. But no other surfer had his combination of grace and power.
Once again her thoughts drifted to what he’d do with those skills
in bed. And suddenly a week-long affair as more appealing than
anything she could think of.

As she watched, he carved his way
across water, then rode the wave to shore and trotted out of the
water. He bent down to release the strap around his ankle and
carried the board toward her as his gaze traveled the length of
her, lingering on the bare expanse of skin between the two pieces
of cloth.

“That’s some bathing
suit.”

“Um, thanks.”

“You need to lose the cover-up.
It’s going to get in the way.”

Her entire body heated as he
watched her slip the cover-up over her head and toss it in the
sand.

“I didn’t think to bring a
towel.”

“I have a couple in the
van.”

“So why are you
on the beach here? By our hotel?” she asked as they walked toward
the water.

“So I could surf until brunch and
not worry about being late again.”

“Ah. Good plan.”

He stopped near the water and
placed the surfboard flat on the sand.

“What are you doing?” she
asked.

“You have to get used to the feel
of the board. You need to figure out how to center yourself on it,
and how to get to your feet once you’re out there, wanting to catch
a wave.” He tapped the nose of the board with his toe. “See how the
nose is up, just a little bit? That’s what you want, for the nose
to be above the surface of the water. If it isn’t, you have to
slide back on the board a bit, adjust your weight.”

She nodded, wrapping her arms
around herself and focusing on the board.

“I want you to lay down the center
of the board.”

She looked up in surprise, then
glanced around. Not many people were on the beach, but she didn’t
want to look foolish. “On the sand?”

“Keeps the board stable while you
learn how to stand up.”

“Okay.” Self-consciously, she
knelt on the board, which was cool and wet from his last ride. Her
belly flinched when bare skin touched the fiberglass. “Don’t be
looking at my ass.”

“It’s a great ass,” he retorted
without missing a beat. “I’m just checking to make sure you’re
centered. Looks good. Okay, put your hands on the
rails.”

“There are rails?”

“The sides are called the rails.
Now, you’re going to brace your weight on your hands and bring your
feet up under you until you can stand. Your feet need to be in the
center of the board, your knees bent, like you’re at bat. Ever play
softball?”

“When I was a kid.”

“You feel that the board is a
little sticky?”

She turned her head to look up at
him. “I was going to ask you about that.”

“That’s the wax, to help you get a
grip. That’s where you want to stand.” He stepped back, arms folded
across his chest. “Show me what you can do.”

She took a deep breath, grabbed the
sides of the board, and heaved upward. Her toe hit the inside of
her arm, and she went down, one knee striking the board, the other
the sand.

“Like I said, you make it look
easy,” she said with a little laugh.

“You can do it. Try
again.”

She stretched out on the board
again, gripped the rails, and tried.

Again, and again.

Finally, she got to her feet and
wobbled a moment before catching herself by planting a foot in the
sand. He placed his hand on her waist and she sucked in her
breath.

“Almost there. Just remember, the
sand keeps the board steady. The water won’t.”

“Got it.” She lowered herself
again, and lifted. This time, she managed to keep both feet on the
board.

“Center and get your knees bent.
Try again.”

Already her thighs were protesting
the repeated exercise. “Are you a teacher or a drill
sergeant?”

He grinned. “You’re the one who
wanted lessons.”

She tried again and again until he
was satisfied and she was coated with a fine sheen of
sweat.

“Let’s take it out on the water,”
he said at last. “Wait. Shit. I almost forgot.” He motioned at the
sun, higher now. “Sunscreen.”

“I have some in the room,” she
said, though her legs protested the thought of walking that
far.

“I have some in
the van, and it’s waterproof. Not forever, you know, but should
last us a bit. Stay with the board.”

She moved deeper into the water to
cool off, hanging onto the board. She traced the hibiscus designed
on the board and wondered why such a manly man had flowers on his
surfboard. And on his chest.

He waved at her from the beach and
she waded out, suddenly wondering if it was one of those spray
bottles or if she’d have to rub it on with him watching, maybe ask
him to do her back.

Please let it be
the lotion,
her libido
whispered.

It was. Sullivan shook it up and
motioned for her to turn around. She lowered the board to the sand
and turned around. But if she expected a sensuous application, she
was disappointed. His movements were swift and businesslike as his
palms coasted over her bare skin. Did he not find her attractive?
Was he involved with someone?

Of course, he probably was. Silly
that she hadn’t even considered that.

His fingers brushed down her spine
and she quivered. He snatched his touch away.

“Ticklish?”

“Not exactly.” She turned and took
the bottle from his hand, keeping her lashes lowered to hide her
disappointment. “I can get the rest.”

“Right. It will last for a bit
then you’ll have to reapply.”

She turned her back as she rubbed
the lotion over her chest and arms, her stomach and legs. She
capped the lotion and tossed it in the direction of her cover-up.
“I’m ready.”

He grinned. “Get the
board.”

He stopped her when they were
waist-deep in the water.

“I’ll keep it steady. Get
on.”

She placed her palms on the board
across from him and hefted herself up. The board sank a bit, and
she lost her footing, then tried again. None too gracefully, she
flattened herself on the board. A small swell of water slapped her
in the face and she sputtered against the salty taste.

“Keep your nose up.” He pressed a
hand to the small of her back to adjust her, and she shifted
accordingly. He gripped the board along the rails, one hand near
her head, the other near her thigh. “Good. Whenever you’re
ready.”

She took a deep breath, took hold
of the board, and pushed herself up. For a moment, she had it, her
feet under her, her balance, and she rose. But the board shifted
back and she tumbled, her ass striking Sullivan’s shoulder as she
flipped past him to plunge under the water.

Strong hands closed around her ribs
and Sullivan lifted her out of the water. He pushed her hair back
from her face, chuckling.

“You okay?”

As much as she didn’t want to break
contact, she twisted to circle him and get back on the
board.

After a few more times, her arms
and legs felt like noodles, and she could barely find the strength
to lift herself onto the board anymore.

“We’re calling it for the day,” he
said. “You won’t enjoy yourself if you can’t walk. We’ll start over
again tomorrow.”

She hated giving up but he was
right. “Besides, I’ve been hogging all your surf time this
morning.”

He grinned. “Totally worth
it.”

She backed toward the beach. “See
you at brunch, then.”

“Wait.” He tucked the board under
his arm and headed in with her. “I should hit the showers before I
meet up with your friends.”

Her heart kicked against her ribs.
“You want to use mine?” The minute she said it, she wanted to bite
her tongue. Too late.

He lifted his eyebrows. “You don’t
mind? I have a change of clothes in the van.”

Did she mind? He would be naked in
the bathroom of her tiny hotel room. If she was smart, she’d stay
down here and just let him have her key card. Instead, she led the
way back to the hotel, stopping at the van long enough for him to
get his clothes and secure his surfboard.

No doubt the hotel staff was used
to people walking in from the beach in their suits. But she didn’t
imagine the second looks Sullivan got as he walked with her through
the lobby toward the elevator. The man was breathtaking, with those
broad shoulders and flat belly. And heaven help her, she’d never
noticed how sexy hips were before.

God, please keep her friends in
their rooms until brunch.

Right, because what was she going
to do with him? Tackle him to her bed? Seriously. She couldn’t get
past the memory of his brisk application of sunscreen. There was
someone in his life.

The elevator was crowded with
people heading the opposite direction, out to the beach. She and
Sullivan were the only ones going up.

“So what does the hibiscus mean?”
she asked, watching the numbers, though that didn’t stop her from
thinking about licking every inch of his skin.

“This?” He touched his tattoo.
“It’s for my mom. Her favorite flower.”

“That’s sweet.” And it deflated
her overactive sex drive.

He chuckled. “Most girls don’t
think so. I got drunk after she died and had it done.”

“She died?” And there went the
rest of her libido, like a sinking balloon. “A surfing
accident?”

“Ovarian cancer.”

“I’m sorry.”

He lifted a shoulder. “It was three
years ago. She’s at peace.”

The elevator doors binged and she
led the way down the hall to her room. Her hand was shaking with
nerves as she slipped the key card into the slot once, twice,
finally finding success the third time.

“The bathroom’s there,” she
pointed needlessly past the messy bed. She hadn’t even thought to
make it.

“Need anything out of there before
I go in?”

“A towel, I suppose.” She wouldn’t
be able to sit on any of the surfaces otherwise. “What were you
going to do before I offered to let you use my shower?”

“Just hose off in one of the beach
showers. But soap is better.” He winked as he handed her a towel,
then shut the door.

She would not stand out here
listening as he stripped, as he turned on the shower. She would not
imagine him naked under the spray, though, God help her, she could
imagine him perfectly, thanks to those low-riding board
shorts.

She pivoted from the door and
stalked to her carry-on. She pulled out her tablet to discover the
battery had died. So much for checking in on the sly. She plugged
the thing in, then went out to the safety of her balcony, where she
wouldn’t hear the water running, and Sullivan singing in her
shower.

A knock sounded on her door. With
her luck, it wouldn’t be housekeeping. For a moment, she considered
ignoring it—after all, answering it would invite her friends to ask
why Sullivan was in her bathroom. But another knock was more
insistent, at the same time the water in the shower turned off.
Elizabeth opened the door a crack to glare at Joslyn.

“Ready?”

“
Not quite,”
Elizabeth said, praying Sullivan stayed in the
bathroom.

“Aren’t you going to let me come
in and wait?”

“I’ll be down in a
minute.”

Joslyn narrowed her eyes. “Did you
steal your phone back from me?”

Elizabeth straightened, and grasped
onto that excuse. “Now how could I have done that?”

Joslyn rose on her toes and spotted
the tablet being charged on the desk. “I knew I should have checked
that bag.”

And just then, Sullivan opened the
bathroom door. “You might want to wash the salt out of your hair
before we head downstairs.”

Elizabeth saw Joslyn’s jaw drop and
her cheeks pinken before she closed her eyes in
resignation.

“I’ll meet you
downstairs,” Joslyn said, and hurried off.