What was she doing here? Why was she bent on carrying out a childish scheme for revenge? When it came right down to it, what was she seeking to accomplish? Who would get hurt the most? She had the unpleasant intuition that it would be she.
She jumped, startled, when a low, rumbling voice asked directly in her ear. “Can anyone join this party?”
Flattening a hand against her chest to still her wildly beating heart, she whipped her head around and bumped noses with Josh. “Ouch,” he said before kissing her loudly. Instead of golf clothes, he was wearing a pair of maroon swim trunks. “Whatcha doin’?”
“Enjoying the peace and quiet.”
He dropped down beside her and hooked his arm around her neck, tilting her head back with his other fist. “If that's a veiled hint that I should leave you alone, you're out of luck. I ran their tails all over that golf course to get back to you as quickly as possible.” His lips formed an unbreakable adhesion with hers. He milked her mouth with gentle suction, as though to draw all her sweetness into himself.
“You didn't play well?” she asked with what little breath he left her.
“Hell, I won! I always play to win, or it's not worth the game.”
His words alarmed her, terrified her, but she had no chance to evaluate them as he drew her into another soul-splintering kiss. Gradually he lowered them to the blanket, until they were reclining, their arms and legs entwined.
“How's your back?” he whispered against her breast.
“A little pink, but it doesn't sting.” He certainly had no problem with sunburn. His body was toasted a dark bronze all over. His chest hair grew in a whorling pattern that intrigued her. She traced it tentatively with her fingers. The crinkly mat spread wide at the top of his chest and tapered down his torso to a darker, smoother line that disappeared into his trunks. His navel nested in that line, but when her exploring fingers reached it, she couldn't bring herself to touch him.
“It doesn't bite,” he murmured. Taking her hand under his, he guided it over the deep dimple on his abdomen. “You have an open invitation to touch me at any time, in any way, any place you want. I give you carte blanche of my body.”
The words made her dizzy with erotic thoughts, and she buried her face in the hollow of his shoulder. Her curious fingers threaded through his dark satiny hair and investigated the small indentation until his breath caught.
“Lie down,” he instructed.
She complied. Rampant desire had made her weak. Her eyes closed against it. She let her body relax. She preferred not to think of it as surrender.
Taking up the bottle of suntan lotion, Josh said, “I'd never forgive myself if I neglected to protect your front as well as your back.” The deep, rolling sound of his voice beckoned her into a deeper lassitude.
His hands were those of a gifted sculptor as they glided over her stomach and abdomen, applying a generous amount of lotion. Fingers that were strong and evocative massaged along the line of her bikini panties. She was disappointed when he didn't take the expedition farther—until she felt the drawstring of her top give way to his quick tug.
Her eyes flew wide as he moved aside the wisp of fabric and bared her to the sky. He was leaning close, gazing down into her eyes, “Shhh,” he said soothingly. Tenderly his mouth kissed hers before he rose. She closed her eyes again, in time to hear a blasphemous whisper that was somehow reverent.
“My God, Megan, you're beautiful. I've envisioned you a thousand times, but you … you're … exquisitely made.”
She felt the two pools of lotion he squeezed on the tops of her breasts. Working first one side, then the other, he smoothed the emulsion over her chest with languid motions. Occasionally he whispered a compliment, but his hands said more than words. He worshiped her through touch. His fingers conveyed the message that she was a masterpiece worthy of his admiration.
When all of her had been covered, except what she yearned most for him to touch, he withdrew his hands. Her eyes pleaded with him when she opened them. She needn't have worried. He was pouring lotion into his palms and rubbing them together. When they were thoroughly creamed, he lay them on her breasts. She gave a long, low moan, and her knees came up involuntarily.
His hands rotated slowly over her breasts. Her nipples, rubbing against his palms, flowered with desire. He raked his lubricated thumbs over them. “Josh,” she sobbed.
“So delicate. So pretty.”
Gently he gathered her lush breasts in his palms and molded her upward into cones cupped in his hands. Her fists knotted at her sides and, senselessly, she rocked her head back and forth. Low noises vibrated in her throat, and she heard herself repeating his name in a loving litany.
When he lowered his head and took one dusky nipple in his mouth, her back arched off the blanket and her hands tore at his hair. “Yes, yes,” she urged.
But he refused to hurry. His lips fanned back and forth across the distended peak until she thought her veins would burst. His tongue dipped repeatedly to bathe the tender, swollen crest with the nectar of his mouth, until it shone wetly.
Her hips writhed with the fundamental beat of a pagan rite. The tempo increased with each squeezing movement of Josh's mouth on her breast, with each flicking lash of his tongue. When she thought she could bear no more, he covered the center of throbbing desire between her legs with his palm, pressed deeply and rhythmically, and drew her nipple into the hot, liquid cavern of his mouth.
Her world exploded with a shower of light.
“Why did you do that?”
She lay curled against him, their damp bodies glistening. His hand combed lazily through her hair as her head was pillowed on his chest. “Because you've never been aware of, or at least sure of, yourself as a sexual creature. One's sexuality is nothing to be ashamed of, Megan. Misusing it, yes. But we were designed to seek and find sensual pleasure with each other.”
She nuzzled her face against him shyly, and he chuckled softly. “One lesson at a time is enough,” he said, retying her top. “Come on. I'd better get you inside before you're burned to a crisp.”
He helped her gather her belongings; and they walked back to the bungalow arm in arm. At her terrace door he turned her toward him. “I'll give you an hour. Unless you'd like me to come in and wash your back when you shower.”
She shook her head. After what she'd just experienced, she needed time to think, time to sort things out. What Laura Wray had told her about Josh's being in love with a married woman hadn't begun to make sense to her before he'd come back and tripled her confusion about her feelings for him. Everything was in a muddle.
Things were getting out of hand, and she didn't know how to regain control. She only knew that right now she couldn't stand naked beneath a shower's spray with Josh and not beg him to touch her and kiss her the way he had on the beach. Time, space, distance—all were essential for her at this point.
“I'll see you in an hour. I assume the cookout is casual.”
He nodded, but she could tell his mind wasn't on either the upcoming party or what he would wear. He cupped her face between his palms. “I've tasted you now, Megan, and it only whetted my appetite. I want all of you.”
Before she could utter a sound, he had gone into his own suite.
The cookout, held on one of the wide lawns,
was
casual, but in true Seascape fashion it was carried off with élan. Vast charcoal pits contained untold quantities of sizzling barbecued ribs and beef. Mounds of ice kept pink boiled shrimp ready to be peeled and dunked into spicy sauce. On long tables covered with red-and-white-checked tablecloths were platters of fried chicken, corn on the cob, steaming okra gumbo and seasoned rice, baked yams, juicy watermelon, relishes to appeal to every taste bud, biscuits, and corn bread. As if that weren't enough, hot peach cobbler and pecan pie were available to satisfy a sweet tooth.
After the meal, Josh suggested that they take a walk in Harbor Town. Megan agreed readily, and they set off in a car Josh borrowed from the resort.
Complete with its own lighthouse, Harbor Town was a commercially developed complex located on the harbor of Calibogue Sound. The man-made harbor had been designed as an imperfect circle, to preserve one of the island's massive oak trees. Acting as a sort of a mascot of the island, the tree was strung with tiny white lights. Entertainers performed nightly on a makeshift stage beneath its branches.
After window shopping along a row of exclusive boutiques, Josh and Megan paused to watch the show. A professional singer strummed his guitar in an attempt to keep time with two young boys he'd called up on stage. They were giggling and getting in about every third word of the ridiculous song, but the audience loved it. Adults and children alike shouted with laughter over the impromptu performance coaxed out of the two boys by the young singer.
“That one on the left is a real corker,” Josh said. “You can tell by the devilish glint in his eyes.” In unguarded moments like this one, he was a different man from the busy executive who was reputed to pull no punches in a business deal. His teeth shone in the dim light. His hair, stirred by the breeze when they had taken their walk along the marina, lay about his head in dark tousled strands that tempted Megan to touch them. The thought that came quietly to her rocked the very foundations of her soul, and she pushed it quickly aside.
“Takes one to know one,” she said, gouging him in the ribs. “I'll bet you were a regular hellion when you were seven.”
“When I had time to be,” he said pensively. He speared her with a look from his amber eyes that meant he demanded the truth about what he was about to ask. “Why didn't you and James have a baby?”
Startled, she floundered. “Well… there … there was hardly time. He … he died a Utile past our first anniversary.”
“Had you planned to have children?”
Why she didn't tell him it was none of his damned business she didn't know. She heard herself answer, “Yes, sometime in the future we planned to have a family.”
Josh's whole body seemed to sag with relief. Though he had draped an arm around her shoulders, she hadn't realized how tense he'd been until she felt the rigid muscles relax against her. “I wanted to have kids.” He wasn't looking at her now, but at the two youngsters hamming it up on the stage.
Speaking around the hard lump in her throat, Megan asked, “Why didn't you marry and have them?”
“I was close once, but”—he shrugged laconically—“things didn't work out.”
“With Laura.” He nodded tersely. “She's a lovely woman, Josh. I like her.”
“I didn't know you knew her.” He turned away from the stage and faced her. She had his total attention again.
“I don't really. We visited today while you were playing golf. She talked about you.”
“What did she say?” he asked quietly, though Megan could hear him even over thunderous applause as the boys returned to their beaming parents.
“That you were a kind man. That you regretted having to hurt her. That you were unselfish.”
“Did she tell you why I had to hurt and disappoint her?” She nodded, but couldn't speak. “Why was that, Megan? What did Laura tell you?”
“She said you were in love with a married woman.” The words scraped past her throat, pricking it like barbs.
“That's right.”
Oh, Lord, why was he doing this to her? It didn't matter, it didn't matter. The statement reverberated in her head, but it had no meaning. It mattered more than she could have imagined. The revelation brought more pain than she'd ever known.
“I'm still in love with her.”
“I see.”
“No, you don't, but you're getting close.” His enigmatic words brought her eyes up to his. His scarred brow was arched in what she could only interpret as mischievousness. There was a curl of suppressed laughter at the corner of his mouth. “She's no longer married.”
Suddenly rage roiled through her, taking with it every misplaced tender emotion that had been collecting for the past two days. Her back stiffened. “Then why have you put the big make on me? Why didn't you bring
her
with you this weekend and leave me in peace? You're loathsome, do you know that? A mean, sick—”
He gripped her arms tight and shook her slightly to stop her tirade. “Megan, stop it!” he commanded. She turned her head away and squeezed her eyes shut.
His grip became tighter. “Didn't Laura tell you when I broke our engagement?”
Still refusing to look at him, she said acidly, “No. I didn't want to know. I didn't care. I
don't
care.”
“The day after you buried James.”
A
s she brought her head slowly around to face him, her mouth formed a moue of incredulity. She opened her eyes wide as she stared up into his smiling face.
“You mean… I…?”
His eyes, sparkling like gems as his hands lightened the pressure on her upper arms, congratulated her on her brilliant deduction. “I meant what I said earlier today. I didn't take kindly to your marrying James. I had just found the woman I'd been looking for all my life. That you were about to become another man's wife didn't keep me from loving you, only having you.” He steered her away from the crowd, which was breaking up now that the singer was doing his finale for the evening. “Let's go home,” he suggested softly.
As they walked back to the car, he continued to explain. “About eight months after your wedding someone arranged a blind date for Laura and me. I wasn't enthusiastic about going. I wasn't enthusiastic about anything during that time.” He hugged her tighter. “But I liked Laura's pleasant disposition and the fact that she didn't make any demands on me.”
He unlocked the passenger door of the borrowed car, and Megan slid inside. In the brief seconds it took him to come around to his side, she drew in several deep breaths.
It couldn't be. It just couldn't be! Was Joshua Bennett actually telling her that he loved her?
He started the ignition and navigated the car out of Harbor Town before he spoke again. “I began seeing more of Laura. I wanted children. I wasn't getting any younger. She expressed a similar desire to settle down and have a home and family. Your marriage seemed to be solid. I thought you were lost to me forever. I asked Laura to marry me.”