CHAPTER SIX
SWEET HEAVEN. And that’s where he was. Losing himself in her warm, wet, willing mouth once more. Warning bells were ringing hard, but he couldn’t bring himself to heed them. Doug didn’t break the kiss as his hands slid from her shoulders and around her back, settling on her waist. Barriers, even silken ones, were no longer acceptable and he lifted the flowing material so he could caress her soft skin.
She stopped him with a firm grip on his wrists. “Your turn, remember?”
Her voice broke through the haze of desire, bringing him back to reality. He didn’t want anything from her.
He swallowed a curse. He might lie to her but he wouldn’t lie to himself. He wanted anything and everything she had to give. He just couldn’t let himself take. “I told you I didn’t expect anything in return.” His voice sounded rough to his own ears.
“I know that. You gave because you wanted to, even if you were proving a point to yourself. Now I want to give back.” She drew a deep breath, one Doug knew for certain was for courage, and then placed her hand on the front placket of his jeans.
He gritted his teeth. She must have sensed his aching need because she cupped him more firmly and slid her palm down then up again in an excruciatingly slow but tantalizing movement. Certainty combined with endearing hesitancy showed in her face as she felt, tested and learned his shape and contours. His body came alive beneath her touch and he barely held himself in check.
“Are you going to deny you like that?” she asked.
He couldn’t admit or deny. Need and arousal collided inside him, fast and intense. “I think the hard evidence speaks for itself.”
She laughed, the sound light and easy, despite their serious conversation and the fact that they were both on the edge. But when she reached for the button on his jeans, Doug knew he had to call a stop. Now, before things went too far. But he also knew he’d be hurting her if he turned her away.
Although he’d explained his fantasy, she was still vulnerable and she’d never completely understand why he stopped so soon. Considering how badly he wanted her, he was having a hard time understanding it himself—and he was in possession of the facts.
Holding back, not taking what she offered and losing himself inside her willing body—Doug didn’t recognize the man making the sacrifice. He hadn’t done many things in his life to be proud of, Doug thought. Obtaining and printing facts by any means possible, even if they revealed others’ failings, hardly qualified him for sainthood.
Yet here he was, denying himself what he wanted most, what he wanted even more than the information she possessed, because it was best for Juliette.
She was new and special and brought something good into his life. In an ironic way, he owed her for that, Doug thought. And this was the only way he could repay her.
She flipped open the button on his jeans and her fingers grabbed the zipper next. He inhaled, wondering how to stop her.
“Remember I told you I was engaged?” Her voice and the topic she chose took him by surprise, but he managed a nod.
“What I didn’t tell you was there were no sparks.” She released his fly and the rasping sound echoed in his ears.
He clenched his fists at his sides.
“No excitement.” Her hands went to the waistband on his jeans. “No real desire.”
She paused—thank God—because he needed to hear everything she said, words as well as inflection, and he couldn’t do that if she was undressing him. And he couldn’t stop her or the topic of conversation would turn and he’d never get this insight into Juliette.
Insight he wanted for personal, not professional, reasons. No agenda involved. He wanted to hear what she had to say because he needed to know the source of her pain. And he wanted to make it go away. Not because it was his so-called fantasy, but because he was on the verge himself.
On the verge of falling for her, hard, deep and fast. A first he had no clue how to handle. “I can’t imagine any man not wanting you.” He spoke, Doug realized, with his heart. And that particular organ began to pound harder inside his chest.
She bit down on her lower lip. “Then don’t imagine it, just trust me. He didn’t want me. And I thought it was my fault,” she said softly. “I’d been through something similar once before and it just reinforced the feelings. A man couldn’t want me, just what I could give him or do for him.”
Doug’s journalistic instincts kicked in, telling him he was seconds away from the truth. She could very well admit her secrets, yet the adrenaline flowing through his system had nothing to do with his ultimate goal and everything to do with her distant, hurt expression.
He touched her cheek. “You have to know I want you.”
“I do.” A smile lifted her lips and lightened her eyes. An honest, grateful, trusting kind of smile. “And since we’re admitting fantasies, you have to know you’ve been fulfilling mine. And it’s been an incredible gift.”
“How’s that?”
“You’ve given me back my faith in myself,” she said simply. Without warning, she refocused on her original task and grabbed onto the waistband of his jeans.
He had seconds to make a choice. Doug wasn’t an indecisive man. He went after his goals, consequences be damned. Hell, the newspaper article and his busted career were proof of that. But when it came to Juliette Stanton, all his intentions and resolutions to go no further were constantly shot to hell the minute she came within touching distance. Kissing distance. Any distance.
He grasped her wrists, stilling their determined movements and giving himself something to do with his restless hands—hands that would rather be roaming her supple curves. “If I’ve restored your faith in yourself, does that mean you believe in me?”
“Of course.”
That simple, he thought. And that complicated. “And you believe I want you.”
She nodded. A light blush stained her cheeks as she gestured with a tip of her head. “Hard evidence, like you said.”
Twining their hands together, he eased himself closer, so he could cradle her in his arms and resist temptation at the same time. “Then can you believe that I want to know you better more than I…” he cleared his throat, “want you to reciprocate. Right now, anyway.”
“I can believe in you enough to trust what you say.” Juliette rested her head against his chest.
Closing her eyes, she could see his face behind her shut lids. If she’d thought him handsome earlier this evening, after a run in the rain and her fingers in his hair, he was devastating and her pulse rate increased rapidly.
“You should. Remember I’m not the one with the fear of storms. If I didn’t want to be here, I could walk out the door.”
What he said made sense. Of course he could walk away. And unlike the past men in her life he didn’t know who she was, therefore he couldn’t want anything from her except sex or her company. Phrased that way, she ought to be grateful he’d opted to get to know her better first, she realized, and she let herself relax against him, trusting him even more.
After all, no man had ever shown interest in her. Doug did. And her interest wasn’t just reciprocated, it ran high. But he was holding himself in check and Juliette had no doubt his restraint was related to his fantasy. He wanted to prove he could put a woman’s needs first, before his own. Unfortunately, that put his fantasy at odds with her desire.
She’d already experienced the luxury of being catered to and doted upon by a very special man. With Doug, she felt desirable and the center of his universe. At times she even forgot the hurt of her broken engagement. And now that Doug had completed her basic fantasy—one she hadn’t known she’d possessed before coming down to this island—she wanted more.
But first she had to prove to him they could share more intimacy and make love without one or the other of them being used for selfish gain.
He said he wanted to get to know her better. It was a start toward her goal and she had no problem complying. “So what is it you want to know about me?”
“How about we begin with your fear of storms.”
She curled into his waiting strength. His arms cocooned her in safety and heat but she couldn’t ignore the tingling awareness rioting through her. “Dad built us a tree house when we were eight. It was so cool and Gillian and I spent so much time there. Too much time, so Mom and Dad had to restrict the hours. But we were kids, you know? We just had to play there no matter what.”
“And here I thought you were the perfect child.”
She shook her head. “Gillian was the wild child, which made me the more perfect daughter, but that came later, as I got older. At eight I just wanted to have fun.”
“Nothing wrong with having fun.” He rested his chin on her head and Juliette sighed.
The comfort and ease of the situation wasn’t lost on her. Not only did he understand, he was interested. He cared. “I liked fun too. We were playing at Stuart’s house…”
“Stuart?” he asked.
“My…neighbor. Fiancé,” she admitted, not wanting to bring the word into her private time with Doug but wanting honesty between them just the same. He let out a low growl but before he could question her about Stuart the man, she continued her childhood story. “And it was getting late. When it started to drizzle, his parents sent us home.”
Doug groaned. “Let me guess. You detoured.”
“Right. And then it started to pour.”
“Aha.” His drawn-out word rumbled deep in his chest.
“Exactly. By the time Gillian and I heard the rain, it was so late we were afraid to go back. At eight years old, punishment is scary. We spent too long arguing over what to do and, before you know it, thunder, lightning and major windswept rain was coming down. We were soaked, scared and wanted to go home.” She shook her head, remembering. “Dad found us first.”
“Of course he did. You guys were in the most obvious place to look.”
She laughed. “I said we were eight years old. I didn’t say we were smart. But he found us after lightning hit a branch on a neighboring tree. I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared. I was holding on to Gillian and crying, while she was having the adventure of a lifetime.” She shrugged. “And that’s why I’m afraid of storms. I guess I should have known then I wasn’t cut out for too much excitement.”
“Oh, I think you handle excitement extremely well.”
There was that deep rumble again, Juliette thought. The sexy sound that reverberated inside her, turning her inside out and making her want him even more than she already did. “Depends on who’s sharing the excitement with me.”
“Right now that would be me.”
She rested her head against his shoulder. “You won’t get any argument from me.” She stretched her feet out on the couch and he followed suit. Though cramped, she’d never felt more at ease.
Perhaps because he’d freed them from jumping into anything immediately sexual, he’d taken the pressure off. Thanks to Stuart, she possessed this driving need to entice a man and prove he could be interested. Thanks to Doug there wasn’t another man who interested her except for him. He’d just shown her a nonphysical but still intimate way of expressing that interest. And she was grateful. Enough to let herself go and relax in his arms, the rain outside distant and so far away.
* * *
SHE WAS BEING shifted, lifted and carried. She hadn’t realized she’d fallen asleep but Juliette awoke with a start to find herself held in Doug’s arms. “What are you doing?”
“Moving before I wake up permanently twisted like a pretzel.”
She laughed. “You could have just woken me.”
“And miss the opportunity to hold you in my arms? Not a chance.”
He carried her into the bedroom and deposited her on the bed, going so far as to pull down the covers and tuck her in, then lower himself onto the mattress beside her. Such a parental gesture, yet there was nothing familial about the heat in Doug’s eyes or the sizzling awareness he ignited inside her. Her pulse rate kicked into overtime as she waited for whatever he had to say.
He picked up a lock of her hair, twisting a long strand around his fingertip, seemingly distracted, but Juliette knew better. He was savoring every touch, every feel, just as she did whenever he was near. She curled into the downy softness of the pillows beneath her.
“Rain’s stopped,” he murmured.
“You’re leaving.” Unexpected, unreasonable disappointment filled her.
“I don’t have a choice.” His gaze fell from her face to the low neckline on her shirt. His fingers followed the movement, tracing the straight edging from her collarbone downward, brushing her chest and lingering in the deep vee nestled between her breasts.
His tanned skin contrasted with her paler flesh and though his touch was gentle, his intent was sexual. And Juliette experienced an instant flare of heat. Suddenly the silk top, which had been so soft seconds earlier, rasped against her hardened nipples. Nothing would ease the tension inside her except his touch, and from the determined look in his eyes, that wouldn’t be happening now.
Let loose. Be yourself. What other way to break past his stubborn convictions? “Of course you have a choice. You can stay.”
His jaw clenched tight. “Not yet.”
She wanted to question him further, find out what kind of hurt he believed he’d inflicted in the past or why he felt the need to atone now. “Why…”
Before she could finish, he dipped his head and lowered his lips to hers for another one of his long, drugging kisses. The kind that sapped her energy and stopped all rational thought. And the kind that told her whatever reason he wasn’t staying the night had nothing to do with his feelings for her.
While he worked magic with his mouth, his fingertips eased inside her shirt and though he encountered the barrier of her flimsy bra, he wasn’t deterred. With a light touch, he held her nipple between two fingers, rolling and flicking with enough pressure to first ease the ache and then increase it.
She raised her arms, seeking to touch him, too, but he gripped her hands and held them against the mattress, keeping himself in charge. And her at his mercy. She sighed into him, letting him know with her mouth, the only way she could, how much she enjoyed his ministrations and how badly she wanted more.
“I don’t want to go.” He leaned his forehead against hers.
His admission sent talons of hope soaring through her veins. “Then don’t.”
“You’ve been hurt recently.”
She stiffened at the reminder. “I never said that.”
“Your ex-fiancé wanted what you could do for him and not you. I’d call that hurt.”
“And you ought to know?” She deliberately pressed harder.
“Something like that.”
Accepting his vague answer for now, she stored further questions away for another time.
He lifted her chin in his hand. “If I stay, we both know where this is headed.”
She nodded, her heart filling with heated warmth.
“But for your sake you need to be sure.”
“I think I know what my body is telling me.” And right now it was screaming for his touch.
He laughed but didn’t sound at all amused. “I want your mind to know it, too. And that takes time.”
More like he needed time, Juliette thought. As difficult as it was, she heeded his boundaries but Juliette didn’t plan on leaving the island without breaking past his barriers and experiencing complete intimacy—his body, deep inside hers. She trembled at the thought of making love with Doug, knowing she’d never be the same afterward.
He lifted the covers and tucked them around her, then leaned forward for another brief kiss. “Night.”
She sighed. Knowing what was right and necessary didn’t make saying goodbye any easier.
* * *
WHEN THE TELEPHONE rang, Juliette was in another world. Alone with Doug on a deserted island, surrounded by bright sun and tropical flowers with the softest petals—for which Doug found the most inventive, arousing uses. She didn’t want to be disturbed, but the persistent ringing wouldn’t abate.
Reaching over, she grabbed the receiver. “Hello.” If she had to be awakened, she hoped it would be by Doug.
“When I sent you on this trip I didn’t think you’d forget to check in. How are you?” Gillian’s concerned voice came through loud and clear.
“There aren’t supposed to be phones in paradise,” Juliette wailed. But she couldn’t deny she was happy to hear from her sister even if the feminine voice wasn’t her first choice.
She closed her eyes, but her dream slipped further and further from her grasp, replaced by reality: a too-cold room courtesy of the air conditioner, a too-cold bed thanks to Doug’s late-night departure and a humming, lingering emptiness because her dream had stopped short of satisfaction.
“If you’re in paradise, why do you sound so miserable?” Gillian asked.
“Not miserable.” Lonely for the man who’d left too quickly last evening. Juliette sat up in bed, letting the morning sun stream through the blinds and bathe her in warmth. “And I recall leaving a message on your answering machine the day I got down here.”
Gillian cleared her throat. “Yes, well, would you believe I was out and too busy to get back to you?”
“Too afraid is more like it. I know you, Gillian Stanton. You were afraid to hear what I had to say about you arranging a fantasy vacation without telling me—oh, and switching my wardrobe. You knew I’d have a few choice words on that subject, too.”
“When I didn’t hear back from you again I got worried.”
She wasn’t surprised her sister had all but ignored the issue at hand. “You should be worried,” Juliette muttered. “It would serve you right.”
“That bad an idea?”
She didn’t miss the hesitancy in Gillian’s voice and decided she’d tortured her sister enough. Besides, she needed her twin and best friend’s advice. “It was probably the best idea you’ve had in this lifetime,” she admitted.
“Wow! That good. Well, I read about Fantasies, Inc. in a magazine. Would you believe couples actually end up married thanks to that resort and its owner?”
Married. Before Juliette could either process the word or speak, Gillian continued. “And speaking of married—or more accurately, not married—you should know Stuart’s been suspiciously silent since you’ve been gone.”
Juliette let out a stream of breath. “Silent in what way? I haven’t been in contact with him since we came to that so-called understanding to keep quiet.”
“He called the day you left.”
“He called me?” Gillian was staying in Juliette’s house to throw the reporters off the trail. “Why would Stuart want to deal with me now?”
“Most likely he was checking up on you and, believe me, he wasn’t buying my ‘this is Juliette’ act.”
Despite the circumstances, Juliette laughed. “He’s known us too long.”
“Well, don’t worry. I wasn’t talking or giving away secrets. He tried a few more times and gave up. It’s the giving up part I don’t like or trust.”
Juliette played with the covers, pushing the comforter into a large hump and smashing it down again. Making mountains out of molehills, she thought wryly. “How about Dad? How’re he and Mom doing?”
“Fine. And don’t worry on that front either. Dad’s not giving away your whereabouts. Much as he respects Stuart, at least for now, he loves you more.”
Juliette swallowed over the lump in her throat. “He’ll be so disillusioned when he learns the truth.”
“Better disillusioned with the snake than confused and worried about you.”
Juliette groaned. She knew her parents were concerned she’d called off the wedding without notice or prior suspicious behavior on her part. She’d given no one a clue things were about to unravel with Stuart, mostly because she hadn’t had any warning herself. And her sudden vacation wasn’t Juliette-like either. She wondered what her entire family would think if they knew she’d taken up with a stranger? A man she wanted to know intimately.
“Have you come up with any ideas on how to reveal this mess with minimal fallout or are you too involved with your fantasy man? My guess and hope is number two—it’s why I sent you down there.”
Despite her preoccupation with Doug, Juliette had thought plenty about the problems back home. She just hadn’t come up with a solution yet. “Actually I met someone who may be able to offer some advice. An impartial third party.”
Gillian laughed. “An impartial he or an impartial she?”
“As if you don’t know. After all, you set up my fantasy.”
“The fantasy, not the man,” Gillian said. “So what’s he like?”
“Incredibly special.” And Juliette had her sister to thank. “What is it you wrote?” Juliette lunged for the night table drawer and retrieved her copy of Merrilee’s paperwork, delivered to the cottage upon request. Juliette had been curious what her sister thought she needed in a fantasy.
“Aha. Here it is.” She read aloud. “To experience the luxury of being catered to and doted upon by a very special man. To feel desirable, be the center of his universe and forget the hurt of a broken engagement.” Her voice trailed off. “How did you know?”
“Because you’re part of me. When you hurt, I hurt. And if I’d been through what you just suffered, that fantasy is what I would need.”
As twins, they weren’t as different as Doug thought, Juliette realized. Which brought another realization to mind. “This trip you sent me on? It’s because you feel guilty, isn’t it? Because I got involved with Stuart, not you.”
She heard her sister’s deep sigh. “If I weren’t the wilder teenager, the one constantly grounded and in trouble, you wouldn’t have gone overboard to compensate. To make sure the reporters had someone else to focus on the times they were out for blood. You took one look at Dad’s face when you saw Stuart was interested in you and you saw a way to please him, and you reacted without even asking your heart if it wanted to follow. I feel responsible for that.”
“I make my own decisions, even if they’re sometimes the wrong ones. You never had to feel guilty.” Anymore than she had to overcompensate for her sister’s personality. “Oh, the tangled web of our lives.” Juliette laughed. “But things always work out for the best. I met Doug.”
“Whoever he is, you sound happy. That’s all I wanted.”
Juliette hugged her knees to her chest. “It’s a vacation,” she told her sister. “It’s temporary.” If she said it out loud, she hoped she’d prevent any foolish notions of seeing Doug beyond this week from taking hold. “He’s from Michigan.”
“Worry about the logistics later and just enjoy for now.”
“Oh, I intend to.”
“I take it this Doug is the disinterested third party you think can help you formulate a plan to help Dad. You trust him?”
Juliette didn’t hesitate. “Yes. I know my history doesn’t back me up, but this man’s different. And he doesn’t know me or my background. He can’t possibly want anything except…well, me.” She laughed.
“You don’t need to convince me. The happiness in your voice speaks for itself. You have fun and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
Juliette rolled her eyes. “That leaves a lot of leeway.”
“Exactly,” Gillian said, sounding all too pleased with herself.
Juliette hung up the phone filled with restless energy. After washing up, she pulled her hair into a loose ponytail, slipped on the most relaxed outfit she could find, a light-green tank dress and sandals, and headed out the door. Maybe a tour of the island and its lush beauty would ease her spirit. Besides, she needed to kill an hour before any of the resort restaurants opened for breakfast.
The hot, humid outdoors was quiet except for the wildlife, the chirping of birds and slight rustle of trees, making her feel as though she had the island to herself. Half an hour later, her mind was clear, her body relaxed. And then a noisy stirring sounded in the bushes behind her, too heavy and loud to be a lizard or other small animal. Startled, Juliette turned fast, but she didn’t see anything or anyone behind her.
“That’s strange.” She rolled her shoulders, easing the sudden tension. Although she knew the island was private and safe, suddenly she no longer wanted to be so isolated and began a quick walk toward the main building. The entire way the uncomfortable feeling she was no longer alone remained with her.
But when she came upon the pool, her fear dissipated. Doug was alone in the huge pool swimming laps. Pleasure at seeing him replaced every other emotion and she chose a chair at the far end where she could settle in and watch.
He swam with grace and ease, but not with the lazy stroke of a man doing routine morning laps. Instead he hit the water with hard, determined movements, barely coming up for air at one end before diving back under and starting again. Almost as if he were working off frustration rather than swimming for pleasure or exercise.
She curled her legs beneath her and narrowed her gaze, wondering if she were imagining things. But when he finally lifted his head long enough to notice her, instead of a wave, a nod or other greeting, he jerked his head back around and began the harsh routine once more.