Life Is A Beach (Mills & Boon Silhouette): Life Is A Beach / A Real-thing Fling (33 page)

He took his time exploring her, wanting to know every part of her body. But she was eager, urgent, trembling beneath his touch. When he felt her hands clasp possessively around him, he knew he couldn’t wait much longer. He caressed the soft cleft at the juncture of her thighs. “You’re ready,” he said, and she replied, the word a mere murmur, “Yes.”

He knew he would remember this moment all of his life. Slowly he raised himself over her, felt her rising gracefully to meet him as he readied himself. He closed his eyes, steeped in sensation, lost in longing, and knew the agony of holding himself back for one more excruciating moment before he plunged into her with an exaltation that knew no bounds.

He thought she cried out at that moment, but he could not think, could not speak, could not do anything but thrust himself repeatedly into her, wanting to be enclosed by her, swallowed up by her. He felt her greediness, her abandon as they welded together in a heated collusion of bodies, flesh against flesh, heat against heat, two become one. And then, when he was lost inside of her, lost to himself and to the world, she cried out for release until he imploded in
upon himself in a giant shock wave of heat and light, taking her along with him.

Together they spiraled gently down from that magnificent high, clinging to each other in moments of pure contentment and peace. Azure came to rest with her head upon his chest, listening to his heartbeat as it quieted beneath her cheek.

He traced her cheek with a finger. “My love,” he said, but she thought he couldn’t, didn’t mean it. She remained silent, overwhelmed by the depth of her feelings for him and knowing that the landscape of her life had been transformed by this, by him.

He thought sleepily that this was the time that he had intended to tell her his real name. His eyes refused to stay open, and as he closed them, breathing in the scent of Azure’s perfume, anticipating her surprise tomorrow when he took her to the
Samoa.
He smiled to himself, eager to see her reaction when she learned that he was the owner of it.

Azure, made stone-cold sober by the terrifying emotions called forth by his use of the L word, waited until Lee slept before pushing herself up against the headboard where she sat listening to the thrum of a steel drum band and the sound of traffic outside on the street.

Lee had called her his love, but how could she be? She had to go back to Boston, and the more she thought about it, the more her innate common sense told her that Lee Sanders with his hair bleached yellow by the sun and his red Mustang with the loose door handle wouldn’t fit in there. Could she imagine him driving down Newbury Street with her in the passenger seat? Could she picture him at the symphony, an art gallery, a theater? Riding with her on a swan boat in the Public Garden? No, she
definitely could not.

She had the sudden unsettling realization that she would have been better off to stick to her guns and not go out with Lee Sanders. Never mind that he was fun, he was considerate, he was a great dancer, and totally enamored of her. He was a boy toy for a night, and that’s all. Nothing more. A vacation fling.

But he was wonderful. She was crazy about him. And she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving him.

It wasn’t until the wee hours of the morning before she finally fell asleep in exhaustion, and when she did, it was with
a miserable feeling of impending doom.

W
HEN
L
EE WOKE THE NEXT
morning, Azure’s hair was spread across his face, a sweet-smelling flaxen curtain separating him from the rest of the world. That was the romantic version; the reality of it was that he had to pick strands of hair out of his eyelashes and spit them out of his mouth, all without waking her. Not that he minded! He didn’t. He had, ever since he first set eyes on her, wanted intimate knowledge of her hair. It—and the rest of her body as well—were as glorious as he had imagined.

She looked beautiful as she slept, her cheeks rosy with sleep and sun, the rest of her tanned body naked under the sheet. Last night she had been magnificent. He’d been right, he thought happily. She
was
a tigress in bed.

He didn’t have the heart to wake her, so he tiptoed into the living room and pulled on his pants. He slid the sliding glass door open and took the phone out on the balcony before dialing the
Samoa.

Fleck, summoned to the phone by Miguel, answered with a cautious, “Hi, Lee.”

“Fleck,” Lee said easily, pulling the glass slider closed to make sure there was no chance Azure would hear the conversation. “It’s me. Would you mind letting the cook know that I’m bringing a guest to dinner tonight, and
tell the stewards that she’ll be staying overnight.”

“Uh, Lee,” Fleck said, sounding wary. “Your father is here. He arrived late last night.”

“My father?” Lee was stunned. He hadn’t seen Joseph Santori in over a year.

“Yes. Don’t ask me why. And does he always look so annoyed?”

“Only with me,” Lee said.

“He’s already on Miguel’s case for not bringing him clean towels. You’d better get back here as soon as you can.”

Lee’s mind raced. He couldn’t take Azure to the
Samoa
until he’d calmed Joe down. He didn’t want his courtship of Azure to be subjected to any disastrous explosions. With any luck, perhaps he could convince his dad to leave.

“Look, Fleck, keep things as normal as you can until I get there.”

“All right,” Fleck said doubtfully. “You still want me to tell the cook you’re having company for dinner? And overnight?”

“Sure, go ahead.”

“Right-o,” Fleck said.

Lee quickly wrote a note and propped it on the bedside table only inches from where Azure lay. Then, resisting the temptation to kiss her goodbye, he dressed and left, thinking that maybe he could wind up this errand and be back in time to climb back in bed before she woke up.

The launch, with Mario at the helm, was waiting for him at the marina. “Your father you were not expecting?”

“Not at all,” Lee told him as he prepared to board the yacht.

“He’s in his usual stateroom,” was all Mario said.

Joe Santori had only visited the
Samoa
once before, but as soon as they reached the boat, Lee set his lips in a grim
line and went to see why his father had decided to honor him with his presence now.

A
ZURE, WAKING FROM A DEEP SLEEP
, groped on the other side of the bed, thinking she would encounter warm flesh and a willing participant in certain delights. Her hand encountered only empty space.

“Lee?” She opened her eyes, which seemed to have razor blades embedded in the eyelids this morning, and closed them again. The light from the window pierced through her brain like a red-hot dagger. She recalled drinking all those Mango Tango Surprises last night and realized that she had been overtaken by the Hangover from Hell.

“Lee?”

Still no answer, so she raised her heavy head along with the hammer that seemed to be pounding on it and looked around. He was gone. Or was he? He might be in the kitchen, making coffee, or he might be in the bathroom.

She hoped not. She needed to use it herself, and immediately. Her brain sloshed around inside her head as she carefully dragged herself in that direction, her stomach now getting into the act with its own queasy version of a wakeup call.

The bathroom door hung wide-open, and the only live thing in evidence was a spider that scampered down the sink drain when her shadow fell across the room.
(Pound, pound, pound.)
She took care of necessities, swallowed three aspirin tablets, splashed water on her hot face, and went back into the bedroom to grab the sheet off the bed. Hoping that the whole world wasn’t spinning like this apartment, she wrapped the sheet around her and tried not to stumble as she made her way into the living room.
(Pound, pound, pound.)
On the floor was her black dress,
shapelessly puddled near the couch. Lee’s clothes, which should have been close by, were gone.

Gone! Had he left?
(Pound, pound, pound.)

He certainly had. She stood indecisively in the middle of the living room for a long moment, wishing her head would stop hurting. She hadn’t had a hangover since she was a college student, and this one was ten times worse than any of those.

She tried to think past the pounding, but the only thought that seemed solid enough to contemplate was that Lee had taken what he wanted last night and then split. If what Paulette said was true, perhaps he had found her lacking in the fine points of making love. Maybe he hadn’t wanted to see her again today, as he’d suggested last night. Maybe once with her was enough.

Azure made her torturous way back into the bedroom and sat dejectedly on the side of the bed. After her experience with Paco, she hadn’t wanted to subject herself to any more jerks. She hadn’t wanted to kiss any more frogs, and she had tried not to like Lee at first. She had attempted to frost him from the very beginning. Now she was sorry that she had given in to his persuasions, which, she thought with a surge of longing, were quite extensive. She might not have measured up to his standards, but he had certainly measured up to hers.

She felt tears welling in her eyes. She didn’t want to cry over another dumb guy. She didn’t want to hate him.

The problem was, she thought with brilliant clarity, that she didn’t hate Lee nearly as much as she hated herself for being stupid, stupid, stupid.

Before she could break down and sob her heart out, she got up and turned on the shower. She’d wash all traces of him from her body, and she’d excise all pleasant thoughts
of him from her brain. Which was now not throbbing so hard, thanks to the aspirin, but had settled into an annoying reggae beat, which might not be her brain at all but music from the street below.

But still, there was enough noise inside her head so that she didn’t hear the faint rustle of paper as the corner of the sheet she wore caught on Lee’s note, which fell unheeded and unread to the floor.

“I
THINK,” SAID
J
OE
S
ANTORI
, “that this has gone on long enough.”

Lee leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, cradling a cup of coffee in his hands. “You want to clarify that?” he suggested cautiously.

His father, looking like an older, heavier version of himself, managed a tentative smile. “I want to bury the hatchet. I was wrong, son. I don’t care that you didn’t finish college. I don’t care that you went into a form of business that I don’t understand. What I care about is that you’re smart enough to have made a success out of yourself even though you didn’t do it the way I wanted you to.”

Slowly Lee straightened. He stared at his father. “Dad—”

His father interrupted. “I haven’t been much of a father to you, Lee. I hope you can forgive me and we can get past it.”

“Any reason why you’ve had this change of heart?” Lee’s own heart was in his mouth; he had never expected his father to make peace with him.

Joe Santori got up and walked to the rail of the deck. He stood staring at the greenery on Fisher Island, his eyes squinted against the sun. Lee looked more closely and saw that Joe’s
eyes were suspiciously damp.

“My friend Benny died last week, Lee. It happened suddenly, and he didn’t have a chance to say goodbye to anyone. It made me think how short our lives are and how silly it is to hold grudges.” He wheeled around and came to Lee, who stood up and smiled.

His father clapped a strong hand upon his shoulder, and then, before Lee could say anything, he was caught up in his father’s big bear hug. It was the first time he could remember being hugged by his father since he was a small child.

“Okay, Dad,” Lee said unsteadily. “I’m glad you’re here.”

His father grinned at him. “So am I. Now what do you say you and I sit down and you can tell me what you’ve been up to lately?”

Lee thought about Azure, realizing that he’d better call her and let her know he wouldn’t be back any time soon. As far as he was concerned, they were still on for tonight. He couldn’t wait to show her off to Joe, a businessman of the old school who would appreciate her career credentials, her beauty, and her charm.

But if he called Azure now, he might wake her up. And he’d left a note telling her that he’d talk to her later about tonight.

“Let’s go in the main salon,” he suggested to his father. “There’s a lot to tell.”

He’d check with Azure in a little while. He could hardly wait to let her know about this new development in his life.

“A.J.?”

Dorrie sounded entirely too pert when she picked up her extension
at Wixler Consultants.

“Yes, it’s me, and don’t talk too loudly or my head will split open like a ripe watermelon.”

There was a sound of a door closing, and then Dorrie said cautiously, “What’s wrong?”

“Hangover of the tenth magnitude. And it looks like I’ve been seduced and abandoned by this guy.”

“The one you liked so much?”

“The same. We went out, came home, made love like we were demented, and in the morning when I woke up, he was gone.”

“Oh, no, not another frog. What happened?”

Azure blinked back sudden tears. She might be talking about the situation as if it were of little importance, but the fact was that she was crushed. She was hurt. She couldn’t even think straight, which was why she had called Dorrie in hopes of solace.

“I don’t know what happened. I—I was beginning to really care about him. Oh, hell, I think I’ve fallen madly in love with him.” She swallowed, trying to keep this on track. “Anyway, I thought everything was fine. He pursued me until I caught him, and then—well, like I said, he was gone this morning when I woke up.”

“Are you going to call him? Considering that it’s love and everything?” Dorrie sounded slightly sarcastic.

“I don’t even know where he lives,” Azure said unhappily as she sank down onto a lounge chair on the balcony. She could see a sliver of ocean from here, and it was a deep sapphire blue this morning. As blue as she felt.

“I’m sorry, A.J.”

“Maybe it’s like Paulette said. Guys are interested until they get what they want, and then you never hear from them again. She says they disappear mostly because the sex
isn’t good enough. What makes sex good enough for a man? That’s what I want to know.”

“A.J.!” Dorrie sounded shocked.

“Well, it seemed fantastic to me. He’s good at it.”

“You make sex sound like a sport. Skiing or swimming or bowling or something.”

“Yes, and if it’s a sport, Lee is an Olympic champion. Besides, Dorrie, there
are
certain learned skills involved. Kissing, for instance. I thought we kissed perfectly. You know how sometimes the tongues don’t—”

Dorrie let out a scandalized gasp. “A.J., I’m at work. What if Harry Wixler happens to pick up the phone? I can’t wait to hear your expert critique of—what’s his name again?”

“Lee,” Azure said miserably.

“—your expert critique of Lee’s sexual skills, but not while I’m
here.
Call me at home later. Or I’ll call you.”

“No, I’m not answering the phone. I’m going to conclude my business here in Miami Beach right away and come home to Boston.”

“I wouldn’t come back without the Santori account, A.J., if I were you.”

Azure’s antennae went on alert. “Why? Is Harry pitching a fit?”

“Worse than that. He’s threatening to downsize, and you don’t want to get the boot.”

Things, Azure reflected, were going from bad to worse.

“When will you be here?”

Azure pinched the bridge of her nose between her thumb and forefinger, ignoring the pain in her head. “As soon as I can see Leonardo Santori, I’ll wrap things up with him and hop on a flight.”

“All right, A.J. I’m so sorry you’ve had a bad
time.”

“Well,” Azure said, blotting at her eyes, “I shouldn’t have been so stupid. He was a Lust Puppy, not my type. I didn’t want a fling. So what did I do? I went ahead and had the fling, and he’s still not my type.”

“Live and learn,” Dorrie replied.

“Yup. Maybe I’d better have my tarot read after all. At least then I’d know what to look out for.”

“Tarot? You never said anything about the tarot.”

“I’ll explain later. ’Bye, Dor.”

She hung up, and then, full of self-righteous anger, she snatched the yellow crochet bikini off the back of the lounge chair on the balcony where she had hung it to dry yesterday. Then she tossed it over the railing, scoring a bullseye on the Dumpster in the parking lot below.

The gesture didn’t help matters any, but it certainly made her feel better.

F
LECK, WHO WAS WAITING
nervously beside the phone in the media room on the
Samoa,
where he wasted a lot of his time viewing salacious music videos and waiting for girls to call, jumped when the phone actually rang. He dared to hope that the caller was Mandi, the chick from the juiceteria, who had been totally impressed when he told her he was Leonardo Santori.

But it wasn’t Mandi. He recognized the voice right away as that of Azure O’Connor, with whom, he was fairly certain, Lee had spent last night.

“Mr. Santori?” she said.

Uh-oh. It sounded like Lee hadn’t told her The Big Secret yet. Fleck looked around to see if Lee was in the corridor or anywhere nearby. He needed some direction here.

No Lee. No direction. As far as Fleck knew, Lee was
still huddled with his father in the main salon, and Fleck had no idea how
that
was going.