Summer Escape with the Tycoon

“Yeah, except at Christmas you’re pretty sure Santa’s going to come at some point.”

She burst out laughing, the sound echoing down the beach as she slapped her hand over her mouth. Eric was watching her with an amused expression, though he seemed a bit sheepish.

“We should get back,” she said, though she was disappointed at having to say it. “It’s getting late and tomorrow’s another early morning.”

“Are you going to sleep all right? You did much better today.”

She nodded. “I still had some anxiety, but not the all-out panic. I kept reminding myself that I wasn’t alone, and that my biggest enemy was my own fear and not any actual threat. It helped.”

He nodded. “Well, tomorrow it’s safe and sound in the boat. And then back to the hotel.”

His gaze met hers. The hotel meant hotel rooms. Amenities. Opportunities to pick up contraception.

“Back to the hotel,” she echoed.

The thought seemed to spur them both into action, and they hopped down from the boulder and made their way back up the beach. But Eric reached down and held her hand.

It was the best feeling in the world.

CHAPTER EIGHT

ERIC STEPPED OUT of the hot shower and grabbed a thick, fluffy towel from the warming rack. It was so good to be back in the hotel, with a real mattress and electricity and hot running water on demand.

Though he could honestly say he’d enjoyed the kayaking trip immensely. After all, he’d seen orcas. Humpbacks. Sea lions, seals, eagles and grizzlies on the final day during a fun boat ride. And he’d kissed Molly. That part left him happy and yet unsatisfied. It had been tamer than 90 percent of his make-out sessions as a teenager, but it had been amazing, too.

And now they were back in Campbell River, in the lap of luxury, in a hotel with a small gift shop that carried condoms. If it didn’t happen, it wouldn’t be because neither of them were prepared.

And he wanted it to happen. Her flip into the water and subsequent nightmare had awakened all his protective instincts. He frowned a little as he looked in the bathroom mirror. Molly was an independent, successful woman. She didn’t really need him in a material sense, but he got the feeling she did in an emotional and physical sense. His stomach plummeted. Was that what Murielle had been saying all along, and he was too stubborn to see it? Had she really wanted him and not the financial security he could provide? He’d spent so many years ensuring those he cared about had enough—a place to live, food on the table. What if he’d got that wrong?

He didn’t dare dwell on that tonight, so after he’d shaved, he pulled on a pair of jeans and a soft cotton shirt, doing up the buttons while thinking about the night ahead. Molly had said that she was going to get a massage and then have a hot bath before dinner, and he’d asked her to join him for the meal. Not with the group, but just the two of them, at their own table. There’d been a moment of hesitation, and then she’d smiled and said yes. The tour group already assumed they had coupled up; it was evident in the assessing yet friendly looks and the way they were often paired together in conversation. And who gave a damn about appearances, anyway?

He had, for a long time. But not now. At least not at this moment.

At the appointed hour he went to her room and knocked on her door. She opened it and for a moment he was speechless. She looked...amazing. Her dress was deep red and wrapped around her body with a tie at her left hip, so that the vee of the neckline hinted at her cleavage and the fabric draped over the curve of her hips. She wore heels, which put her only an inch or so shorter than him, and her hair... She’d done something with it to make it all curly, and then twisted it up somehow in the back, reveal

ing the elegant column of her neck. And she wore makeup tonight, more than he’d seen her wear before. Her eyes glowed and her lips were plump and shiny...and he had the thought that maybe they could skip dinner altogether. He’d loved her figure in her go-to yoga pants and tops on the kayak trip, but right now she was a flat-out bombshell.

“Wow,” he said, swallowing hard, thinking he sounded like an idiot. All those thoughts and all he could get out of his mouth was “wow”?

“I wanted to dress up,” she said softly, reaching for her purse. “You don’t mind?”

“Are you kidding? Except I feel incredibly underdressed.” He should have at least put on a tie.

“Not at all. You look...”

She hesitated, and despite the makeup, her cheeks colored.

“I look what?” he asked, wanting to hear her say it. He didn’t know if tonight was going to be foreplay or torture but he was willing to go along with it and find out.

“You look nice,” she said, stepping out of the room and shutting the door.

But he touched her arm and stood in front of her, so that his body partially blocked her from skirting around him. “Nice is too bland a word for a woman with a vocabulary like yours,” he murmured. Their bodies brushed and he felt her inhale with a shiver. Oh, the attraction was still there. Still simmering.

“If I tell you what I thought, we won’t leave my hotel room. And as good as that sounds, I’m actually very hungry.”

He stepped aside as he laughed. “That I’ll believe. It’s been a long time since lunch.”

Molly looked a little surprised at how he moved aside, so he gave a shrug. “There’s no rush. We have all night. If we want it.”