“Next time,” she hollered back, “I’ll opt for the ice cream.”
Her use of next time was good, but at heart she was still a play-it-safe girl, while he—well, he wanted to get this going. See where their attraction could take them.
“You’re sitting on the sidelines and thinking the water might be cold,” he called. “Maybe it is. Maybe it isn’t. But you’re never going to know until you’re all in. Testing the water won’t help, not really. That’s not enough to tell you anything at all.”
She made it to the sand and turned around, hands on hips. She didn’t seem happy, but she’d stopped muttering. And she was still talking to him. “You’re telling me to jump.”
“You got it.” He turned over onto his back, floating. “I am.”
“And when I’m in and it’s cold? What then?” she challenged.
“You won’t be cold, princess. I promise you that.”
* * *
THE SWEET MOON cabins were the perfect scene for a seduction.
Unfortunately, Dani was alone, when every honeymoon with hot, raunchy sex she’d ever fantasized had required two people. She flipped on all the lights when she reached her cabin because the hundred watts killed the romantic mood. To kill it even more, she shed the bikini, dropping the swimsuit on the floor and grabbed her thick, terry robe.
Feeling dry, finally, and a lot more comfortable, Dani had a serious look at the cabin’s main room. It was truly pretty, sporting an enormous four-poster bed draped in swathes of white tulle. White candles of all sizes had been artfully arranged by the bedside and over the mantel of the fireplace, giving the air an exotic scent.
She wanted to shove the candles into the closet, but she’d done that yesterday and housekeeping had simply replaced them. She couldn’t catch a break.
Grabbing the night’s complimentary bottle of champagne and the plate of chocolate-covered strawberries, she cracked the bottle open and settled in. Outside the sky was starting to cloud over again.
At least her appetite wasn’t shot. Sure, she was on her own, but at least she hadn’t gone through with the ceremony and married Rick. It would have been the biggest mistake of her life. Still, she couldn’t get Daeg’s face out of her mind. He’d changed, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. She had changed, too. No longer was she the naive girl who’d once chased him down that beach ten years ago.
Her thoughts returned to her hot navy man. Daeg seemed harder, more serious. He tried to act the part, but his carefree attitude had all but disappeared. Whatever he’d seen and done during his military career, he’d brought those experiences back with him.
He would have come back here with her.
She revisited their kiss on the beach, replayed the scene in her head.
The question was: Should she go for it? Followed by: Could she? A fling with Daeg Ross, of all men?
Hooking up with Daeg Ross would certainly prove to herself that her ex-fiancé’s claims were all hot air. In truth, she wasn’t going to have sex just to make a point. That was a bonus. No, if—when—she went to bed with Daeg Ross, it would be because she wanted to.
Because she really wondered what she’d missed out on all those years ago, and she liked how she felt around him. She was different. Somehow more. More alive, more real, more herself. Those were all good things. He made her want to take chances, which was also very different.
But she liked it.
A lot.
Too bad she was such a chicken. She refilled her champagne glass and snuggled deeper into the luxurious bed. What she actually needed was to get on with her life. But she’d start with Daeg. She needed to take the plunge. He was right about that.
Where to start?
Grabbing a pad of legal paper, she sketched columns rapidly and added headings. Action. Reaction. His action. Her reaction. For a moment she felt foolish, but she was alone and it wasn’t as if anyone would ever see her list of potential seduction setups. She eyed the fireplace. She could always burn the pad if it came to it.
That fireplace was a good start. She could easily imagine curling up in front of it with Daeg. What would she do if she had him here, down on the faux-fur throw in front of that heat? Would she strip off his shirt again, admire all that golden, bare skin? Would she tell him how and where she wanted to be touched?
Or maybe she’d just want a conversation. A little heart-to-heart in the dim light. Those could be good moments, too. Her pen flew. If he stretched out one long arm, pulled her in close for another hot kiss, what would she do then?