“French,” she murmured aloud.
She fingered the sheer black floral lined in nude fabric. With a high neck and equally high cut-outs up the thighs, the suit was the paradigm of modesty—and yet it was the sexiest garment Mallory had ever seen.
The note came next and she slit open the sealed envelope and pulled out the white paper with stark male writing. Suit up and meet me at the beach after dark. I dare you.
He didn’t mention where on the beach but deep in her soul, she knew he meant the place they’d walked earlier. A shudder shook her, one having nothing to do with the cool air-conditioning in the room. Her nipples puckered and her knees buckled. God the man was good.
Instead of just an invitation, he issued a challenge. A subtle one to be sure, but without the I dare you line, Mallory would have felt free to ignore the request. The desire to show up in this magnificent suit would have been overwhelming, but common sense could have won out. Common sense was nowhere to be found now. Thanks to the phrasing of the note.
And he knew it.
Obviously Jack had given thought to this evening and to the exact words that would both intrigue her and dare her to resist. Even if his motives were selfish or a bit egotistical—and she didn’t doubt he wanted to prove she could succumb to his charms the same way he’d succumbed to hers—he’d given thought to what made Mallory Sinclair tick.
Who else in her life had ever done such a thing? Not her parents, who knew one another inside and out but barely knew their own child, and not the occasional men she’d dated who wanted a good time or an introduction into the W
aldorf, Haynes’s world. For this brief interlude of time, Jack’s motives didn’t matter.
His actions did.
She walked over to the mirrored closet and shrugged out of the terry hotel-styled robe, leaving herself dressed in nothing but lace panties and a sheer bra. She held the sexy bathing suit in front of her. The black suit picked up the inky coloring of her hair and thanks to the contrast, her pale skin took on a porcelain glow.
Or was it the excitement of the challenge that lit her eyes, and the sheen of anticipation and sexual awareness that shimmered in her face?
So he wanted to one-up her, did he? Issue an invitation of his own? Mallory slipped out of her bra and panties, replacing the sheer garments with the seductive suit.
She’d accept his challenge and beat him at his own game.
AS THE SUN BEGAN TO SET, an orange haze settled where the water met the sky. Jack watched the sunset with anticipation and as darkness fell he glanced back toward the wooden stairs leading from the hotel to the beach and was struck by the incredible beauty of the woman walking toward him.
He’d chosen the stretch of beach they’d walked on this morning, knowing she’d innately return to find him here based on his note. He’d also walked this area at night and knew it was rarely traveled by guests. Then he’d chosen her bathing suit on a whim, having no idea how it would look on Mallory’s supple curves. His only criteria had been sleek, sexy and enough coverage to make her comfortable yet still make him hot.
He’d more than accomplished his goal.
She came toward him with long-legged strides, confident in both her appearance as well as her effect on him. He could tell by the sultry swing of her hips and the smile on her face—it might be his invitation but she planned to take control. How very surprised she’d be.
“Glad you could make it.” He rose from his seat on a large beach blanket he’d bought for the occasion.
“Did you doubt I’d come?” Her sexy smile grew wider.
“Not for a minute.” His words of challenge had been phrased to ensure her arrival. But he realized now he wanted her here willingly and not under duress. Not because she couldn’t resist a dare, but because she couldn’t resist him.
She shook her head. That gorgeous mane of hair she hid during the day fell over her shoulders in windblown disarray. “Am I really that predictable?”
He reached out and lifted a strand of hair, curling it around his finger. “You’re lots of things, but predictable isn’t one of them.”
He met and held her gaze for an intense instant, then he unwound his finger from her hair and glanced back toward the ocean, trying to assimilate the feelings rioting through him that had begun to cross the boundary beyond sexual.
When he glanced back, she’d bent to pull a pair of delicate sandals off her feet and he caught an enticing view of cleavage inside the so-called modest bathing suit he’d chosen.
She tilted her head and met his gaze. “Hey, put those eyes back in your head. I’m here to swim only.” Rising, she tossed her shoes onto the sand beside the blanket.
“That’s too bad. And here I thought you were going to give skinny-dipping a try.” He shoved his hands into the back pockets of his shorts to prevent himself from reaching for her, stripping her of that bathing suit and living out the fantasy. Just the two of them with miles of ocean and no clothes in sight.
She laughed. “Very funny.”
He didn’t think so, and at this moment, neither did his groin, which was straining uncomfortably against his shorts.
She wiggled her toes. He watched as she dug those coral-painted toenails into the cool sand and stifled a groan. He had no doubt she was torturing him on purpose.