churned her insides. “If I remember correctly, man didn’t go by choice. He was banished.”
“For tasting the forbidden fruit.” At his words, a shiver of awareness took hold. She had to look.
And if he’d been sexy from afar, up close he was devastating. Without sunglasses, his eyes were a dynamic shade of blue, his features ruggedly handsome. Unlike her ex-fiancé’s fair, all-American looks, this man was a rogue—from his dark hair, tanned skin and razor stubble, down to his baggy yet still sexy swim trunks.
Her fantasy come to life. In her dreams, this was the kind of man who came to her in the dead of night. The one who’d sweep her off her feet and make her the center of his world. No other agenda in sight.
He extended his hand. “Doug. And you are?”
“Pleased to meet you,” she said with a hesitant smile. Being bold didn’t come easily. “I’m Juliette.” No last name attached, just as he hadn’t offered his.
She placed her hand in his warm palm. The flare of heat was instant and intense. From the flicker of awareness in his eyes, he felt it too.
Startled by the strength of the attraction, she tried to withdraw but he held on tight. “Nice to meet you, Juliette.”
His thumb brushed the pulse point on her wrist briefly before he let go. A rush of pleasure took hold, wrapping around her heart and warming her in ways she hadn’t experienced in too long, if ever.
But she liked what she was feeling. Each tingling sensation in her body, every shimmer of awareness in her brain, she enjoyed. After the pain and heartache of the last few weeks, she realized she desperately needed to feel sexy and desirable. She craved the lavish attention that would assure her she wasn’t second best. This man could provide that proof and be her much-needed diversion.
But one real and nagging fear remained. Although she’d escaped to this island, Juliette couldn’t be certain she’d left the press behind. The last thing she wanted was to bring more scandal down on her father now.
Senator’s Daughter’s Secret Fantasy would be even worse than the Runaway Bride headlines. Thanks to his stellar reputation, the senator had weathered that gossip well and denied he’d been publicly embarrassed or cared about anything more than his daughter’s well-being. But Juliette had no desire to shine more negative publicity on him during the last months of his tenure. The revelation about Stuart would be awful enough and she’d yet to figure out how to handle that.
But she was here, Juliette thought, and she deserved some private time. Looking into Doug’s eyes, she felt his sincerity. The attraction was real, his attention singular and genuine. Unless she wanted to lose this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, she had no choice but to put her fears aside and trust.
Unlike Stuart, Doug gazed at her as if she were special and, with everything inside her, Juliette wanted to grab onto what her sister had so generously given her. Juliette didn’t wonder how Gillian had known what she needed. As twins they shared a bond stronger than anything tangible or understood.
“Where are you off to?” Doug asked, startling her out of her private thoughts.
“I was thinking of hitting the beach.” She gestured towards the umbrellas dotting the sand below.
“And I was thinking of hitting on you.” His lips turned upward in a hesitant grin. “That is if you don’t mind the company.”
She met and held his gaze. When she’d decided to remain on Secret Fantasy, she’d decided to trust. She also had to let go of any inhibitions she normally felt. Upon unpacking, she’d discovered her sister had ransacked her suitcase and replaced the sensible items with impractical things and the conservative ones with sexy substitutes. Juliette was outwardly freed from constraint.
Her attitude had to follow. Easier said than done, and definitely easier to accomplish if she didn’t look down at the cleavage her skimpy bathing suit exposed.
She cleared her throat. “As a matter of fact, I’d love company.” She faltered, then reminded herself this man didn’t know her. She could be anyone she wanted to be, act in new and exciting ways.
She held out her hand. He slid his warmer, larger palm against hers, curling his fingers around her skin. His touch was hot and electric, and like two pieces of a puzzle, they fit together.
Juliette didn’t know if this was the man Merrilee had chosen for her fantasy, but after her lukewarm relationship with Stuart, she did know better than to ignore an attraction this strong and consuming. More than just sizzling chemistry differentiated him from her ex-fiancé. Where Stuart presented a civilized front, too civilized, she realized now, this man exuded a raw power and wilder persona. All of which tempted Juliette on a deeper, more sensual level.
She’d never felt like this before and probably never would again. Why wait for another man to approach her, one who couldn’t compete with Doug? Juliette didn’t want some man that Merrilee had chosen for her. She wanted this man and she intended to put in a specific request of her own. She shivered beneath his potent gaze. Whatever this week had in store, no doubt she was in for a treat.
Doug held Juliette’s hand as they walked toward the beach. Questions assailed him from all sides. Who was this woman who’d blindsided him on first sight? Research, photographs and even distant glimpses when she’d accompanied her fiancé to political functions hadn’t prepared him for reality. For the vibrant, seductive woman with just the right hint of naïveté to charm even a jaded reporter.
But he wasn’t yet free to begin his quest. He was still on probation in Merrilee’s eyes and knew she was concerned about his interest in her client. She’d given him twenty-four hours so she could observe and decide. He respected her reluctance and admired her business sense. If the situation were reversed, he might not be trusting himself right now.
In the meantime he had precious few hours to convince both women he was the only man for the job. Persuading them wouldn’t be a problem. Doug had had plenty of experience charming women to get what he needed.
“Where are you from?” Juliette asked.
The warmth and depth in her tone took him by surprise. He’d expected her voice to be more cultured and aloof, less gentle and kind. He suspected her personality would be soft to match. None of which boded well for Doug. Keeping an emotional distance would have been easier if she’d been like the icy politician’s wives and the women in his past he’d grown used to dealing with.
“I’m from Michigan,” he told her. Which he was, technically. Detroit born and raised until he was three months old. Then his father had split and his mother had moved them to Chicago.
But he couldn’t place himself in Chicago because she might become wary and back off. Nor could he give her details like a last name in case she recognized him from his articles in the Tribune. So he’d skirt the outer boundaries of truth as best he could. The more honest he was, less chance of slipping up. The less of that damned guilt he hoped to feel.