The Secretary's Seduction

"It's lovely," she whispered, pressing her hands against the sand, feeling the warm soft grains against her skin.

Morgan nodded. "I feel good here. I feel calm here. And I like having you here with me."

She leaned forward and propped her chin on her forearm, not knowing what to say. She was still rather intimidated by him, still felt some awe that she was here, in the Bahamas, on Morgan's island. It was surreal. Intimate. Exclusive. It was almost as if she'd gone on the honeymoon even though she'd missed the wedding.

Morgan stretched out an a

rm, pointed to the water.

"Look, the sun's going quickly now."

He was right. Once the round red sun hit the horizon, it sank fast, disappearing into ocean as if it were a heavy fireball, and for one exquisite moment the ocean lit up and the surface shone ruby and gold.

Winnie held her breath the last few seconds, feeling almost bereft when the sun disappeared altogether, leaving the horizon a quiet, sullen, blue.

"That was beautiful," she said, wrapping her arms more tightly around her knees. It was still warm out but the contrast between the intense red sky and the now gray night made her shiver.

Morgan must have noted her shiver because he reached over, touched the middle of her back. "Cold?"

"No." But she shivered yet again, not from cold as much as desire. When he touched her she felt so much, it was almost too much. She'd never known such pleasure.

For seven months now she'd battled her feelings. For seven months she'd tried to dismantle the desire, deny the need, ignore the want. She'd told herself her feelings would fade. She'd forced herself to go elsewhere, look for another job just to put distance between her and heartbreak but here she was at the end of July and she was still hoping, wanting, needing, dreaming.

Would it be so awful to stop fighting herself, to stop fighting for the higher, moral ground and to just let herself enjoy him? To just enjoy this?

Would it be so bad to be with him just for the moment and to take what she could ... even if it was only sex?

"Winnie, we don't have to make any big decisions today."

She turned her head, looked at him, wondered how he could know exactly what she was thinking. "I used to believe I was really old-fashioned," she said, her throat so dry it felt as if she'd swallowed a bucket of sand. "But I'm beginning to think I'm not so very conservative.'

"Winnie-'

"I don't want to marry you. If a marriage is to last it must be built on love, but there are things I'm curious about, and there are things I don't know."

He waited and she clenched her hands together, praying for courage. "I'd like if it you ..." She drew a deep breath, finding these words almost impossible to say. "If you could teach me these things ... show me how it works ... what to do."

"You make it sound like rocket science."

"It is if you don't know how."

"Well, I don't think you need to worry. You're a natural." His lips slowly curved but the smile didn't reach his eyes. "It'll be easier than you think."

She loved it when he looked at her like that. When his eyes were serious, but she could feel the heat. He tried to check the emotion yet she felt it anyway. "That's what you said about kissing," she said a bit breathlessly.

Grooves formed next to his mouth. "And was I wrong about that?"

He was doing it again. Making her hot, making her want. Winnie exhaled slowly in the semidarkness, her skin so warm that she wanted to peel her camisole top off, push her skirt down and throw herself into the ocean.

And Winnie realized that's exactly what she wanted to do. Strip down. Get naked. Skinny-dip. She'd never done anything half so daring but this was the time, this was the night. If she didn't do something risky now, she never would.

"Want to swim?" she asked, blushing a little.

"You mean get our suits and head to the pool?"

"No." Her blush deepened, her face felt sensitive, and she thought that she'd do just about anything to make him kiss her soon. "Let's swim here." Winnie swallowed hard. "Naked."

Morgan scooped up a handful of sand and held it in his closed fist. He wasn't sure that stripping to skin and swimming was the thing he needed right now.

Winnie was having a really potent effect on him. He could feel her, smell her, still taste her. He'd been battling his desire all evening. Dinner had been a lesson in discipline. During the meal when she'd leaned forward and placed a hand on his forearm, he'd hardened instantly. Ardently.

It was one thing to hide an erection seated at the dinner table. It was another naked on the beach.

"Come on, Morgan," she entreated, leaning forward, her breasts brushing his bicep. Waves crashed not far from their feet, the salty spray coating their skin. "Swim with me."

He searched her face. She looked so eager, her face very alive, eyes wide, lips parted, her expression completely unguarded. He loved that about her-her openness, her freshness.

Beautiful women were always interested in protecting power, jostling for position. Annika had always kept her guard up. Hannah wouldn't ever compromise. Brigit played coy. But not Winnie, and he thought she was just as beautiful, if not more beautiful, than the others.

He glanced behind him at his low house with the steeply pitched roof. It glowed like a mysterious Japanese lantern on a hill. The tiki torches lining the dirt path from the beach to the bungalow shimmered, yellow flames dancing and licking at the night. It was a warm night, warm enough to sleep outside, and definitely warm enough for a swim.

He opened his fingers and let the powdery sand slide through. "You really want to do this?"

"Yes," she answered, voice quavering.

"All right, but you go first."

CHAPTER NINE

"Go FIRST?" She'd risen and now stood above him, feet slightly apart and planted in the sand.

Her hands were on her hips and her shoulders were bare. She looked very sexy and he couldn't forget the softness of her mouth, the delicate shape of her lips, or the smoothness of her skin. Just thinking about the kiss, remembering the way she'd felt in his arms, made Morgan hard again.

He craved the feel of her. He longed to put his mouth against her collarbone, feel her gasp as his tongue traced the delicate skin at her throat and the hollow beneath her ear.

"Skinny-dipping was your idea," he reminded, wondering now how he could have ever thought her big or solid. She was barely five five, maybe five four.

Without a word Winnie reached behind her, unzipped her skirt and peeled the beige linen fabric over her hips, down her legs to fall at her feet. Morgan inhaled sharply as Winnie stepped out of the skirt, leaving her in just the beige camisole and the nude-colored panties.

Winnie had legs. Amazing legs that were smooth and silky and very bare.

She looked over her shoulder, at the water, giving him a glimpse of firm thighs and a rounded bottom. Morgan was turned on all over again. "I've never done this before," she said in a small, breathy voice.

Winnie, his Winnie, the Winnie he'd worked with for the past seven months was driving him absolutely crazy. "You're doing just fine."

Her lips curved briefly and grasping the edge of her linen camisole she pulled up, lifting it over her head.

As Winnie tugged the camisole up, Morgan caught the sway of full, firm breasts. The top came off and the rising moon flooded her with light, illuminating her pale soft skin. She wasn't wearing a bra. Her breasts swayed as she dropped the camisole onto the sand.

Blood surged through him. Blood pounded in his ears, in his limbs, in his groin and Morgan felt as if he'd been taken over, hit by a wave of hunger so strong he was a sixteen-year-old kid again, looking at a centerfold.

She was lushly made-full breasts, hips, thighs-the body of a woman as a woman was meant to be.

His desire stunned him. His body actually hurt.

This was Winnie. This was the woman he'd worked so closely with for seven and a half months and he'd never known how sexy, how seductive, how sensual she was.

"You're going to join me?" she asked, hesitating slightly, as if starting to doubt the wisdom of an evening swim.

"Yes." Morgan remained where he was but slowly began unbuttoning his white Egyptian cotton shirt. His fingers weren't quite steady. In fact, he could hardly concentrate on the task at hand, still too enthralled by the vision of Winnie.

If he hadn't promised to take things slow ...

"You're having trouble with that last button," Winnie said, head tilted, watching him.

He looked down at his shirt. It was true. It w

as all unbuttoned but the last and his fingers couldn't seem to get it undone.

Winnie crouched in front of him. "Let me help," she said, crisply, impossibly matter-of-fact.

He stared at her breasts. They swayed just inches from his face. If he bent his head he could capture one of her pale pink nipples in his mouth. Her nipple in his mouth. His tongue against the tiny round peak. His body surged. He ached. He ground his teeth together to keep from touching her now. But oh, he wanted to taste her skin, wanted to feel her firm nipple in his mouth and he'd suck it, warm it, make her cry his name.