To anyone watching, Kayla appeared cool and unaffected as she ate slowly, savoring every bite of the perfectly prepared prawns and seared vegetable medley. Inside, however, her mind whirled and her feminine parts tingled with possibility.

In addition to being handsome as sin, Spencer Dumas was also either very self-assured or exceptionally presumptuous. She supposed that having those good looks, wealth, and power might have something to do with it.

What he needed was someone to take him down a notch. It would serve him right if she ignored his blatant summons and spent her evening as she had originally planned—with a walk on the beach, and maybe a drink or two while listening to the live band she had seen setting up in the outdoor pavilion earlier.

The problem was, she really wanted to show up at midnight and find out exactly what the arrogant playboy had in mind.

She finished her dinner then walked out onto the beach. Slipping off her sandals, she let the gentle waves wash up to her ankles while a light sea breeze whispered over her skin. There was nothing quite as lovely as a tropical island at night, especially when it hummed with possibilities. Simply being there made her feel as if she was living a fantasy; that here, she could indulge in things not possible anywhere else.

That, she supposed, was exactly the point. Spencer Dumas was not only gorgeous and rich, he was also brilliant when it came to marketing.

And arrogant, she thought with a secret smile. That kind of confidence was damn sexy in a powerful man.

She had a choice to make: indulge her wild side or play it safe. Do something, or sit quietly on the sidelines and watch everyone else have fun.

As she walked along, the sound of steel drums and the rolling ocean providing background music to her musings, while the angel on one shoulder debated with the devil on the other. The demon was winning. She was on vacation, it reasoned, so why not?

Of course, there was nothing that said she had to indulge in her wild side with Spencer Dumas. There were other men around with whom she could scratch her itch. Chances were, if they had come to Sate to play, they also wielded the kind of power and influence she found particularly attractive.

But none of them had boldly propositioned her. And none of them had managed to get her wet with naught but a look.

Besides, she knew Spencer Dumas was the real deal. Anyone else could be a poser. Or worse, married.

If Spencer Dumas had propositioned her in Pine Ridge, that would be a completely different, and entirely implausible, situation. Here, though, no one knew her.

Another check in the “do it” column was that it had been a long time since she had done anything remotely exciting. Even longer since she’d had really good sex. She had a feeling Spencer Dumas knew his way around a woman’s body. He radiated the kind of power, the kind of control she craved.

It wasn’t as if anything would come of it; it would be a one-time deal. According to the gossip rags, Spencer Dumas didn’t do repeats, which meant no strings, no worries, no messy complications.

And it would make a memorable trip that much more so.

More importantly, when had playing it safe ever been her thing?

Decision made, Kayla turned back toward the resort. If she was really going to do this, she had some preparations to make.

At 11:59 p.m., she stood in front of the glass elevator. Her skin was soft and supple, smooth and glowing. The light silk of her dress, sans lingerie, made her feel especially wicked. She took a breath, and hit the Up button to call a car. The doors opened almost immediately.

With another deep breath, she stepped into the empty car and pressed the button for the 27^th floor. Her whole body tingled with anticipation.

Remembering his explicit instructions, she turned her back to the doors and grasped the brass rail with both hands. Her heart hammered as the car ascended, the central atrium visible through the glass. She held her breath when the soft ding sounded and the doors opened.

Would he be there? Or had he changed his mind?

Seconds felt like hours. She was just about to turn around and press the button to take her back to her floor when the air grew heavy and thick as his expensive, masculine scent filled the space.

“Don’t.”

A small sound followed his command, like that of a key fitting into a lock. Then the lights within the car went dim.

She remained fixed in place, her heart pounding and the area between her legs throbbing.

She could feel his heat at her back. What was he doing? She lifted her gaze, catching his semi-transparent reflection in the glass. Intense, hungry eyes met hers.

Then he disappeared, and she felt his hands at her knees. He pushed her legs farther apart, then drew his hands upward slowly, caressing her outer thighs.

Kayla sucked in a breath. They were in a glass elevator, suspended more than twenty stories in the hotel’s central atrium. If anyone looked up, would they be able to see her splayed against the glass with Spencer between her legs?

He continued his upward path. His touch was light, exploring, yet when he flexed his fingers, she could feel the strength in them.

He hummed approval when he reached her hips and found her bare. “So obedient,” he murmured, caressing her ass, dipping down, slipping seductively along her now soaked folds. “And so fucking wet.”

He guided her even farther apart, and then she felt him licking between her legs. She gripped the rail tighter until her knuckles were white. Holy hell, this man knows how to use his tongue!

He brought her to the edge, then promptly disappeared. Her mewl of protest was met with a seductive laugh and a whisper-soft rip of foil. Then his hands were on her hips, pulling her back toward him.

She felt the broad head of his sheathed cock kiss her entrance, and she shivered with anticipation.

“Don’t let go.”

He thrust upward, his thick cock sliding smoothly and deeply, filling and stretching her in the process. She gasped at the sudden, glorious intrusion. He moaned in pleasure.

He then paused, allowing her to catch her breath. If possible, he grew even thicker inside her. Then he withdrew and slammed back in. He repeated the process, fucking her hard and fast, exactly as she needed. She pushed back, meeting him stroke for stroke, delighting in the sound of the hard slaps of her ass against his hips; the hard, hot, heavy feel of him pushing every one of her buttons.

She lifted her hips, a blatant demand for more, only vaguely conscious of the fact that anyone could look up and catch a glimpse. The thought only made her burn hotter.

His strokes became harder and faster, rocketing her toward her peak. She bit her lip to avoid the cry that wanted to tear loose from her throat, clamping down on him hard in a brutal, exquisite climax.

Behind her, he cursed and shoved deeply, holding her in place while his cock throbbed out his release into the condom.

He leaned against her back, nuzzled her neck. “Such a naughty girl,” he murmured.

With that, he backed away, the doors opened, and then he was gone.