Deep Focus (7 page)

Without warning she tried to push him in, but he had anticipated the move, and she wasn’t strong enough to budge him more than an inch. He quickly regained his balance and flashed her a smile. “Seriously? That’s your best?”

She was pursing her lips. “Damn it. I had visions of you tumbling in face-first and me laughing.”

“I can take a dive if it will make you happy.”

Melanie laughed. “No. That’s not the same thing.”

“You sure?” He made as if he was going to fall in. “Whoa. Whoa. Uh-oh.” The water he’d splashed on her had given her goose bumps and tight nipples. Her skin brushed against his, cool and smooth. “I’m going to fall. Help.”

She shook her head and rolled her eyes. But then she placed her hand on his back and shoved. He arched his back and fell in, enjoying the cold water and the soundlessness of being completely submerged. When he came up, she was smiling at him. He went back under and yanked her feet, not hard enough to pull her in, which might scrape her skin or knock her unconscious, but enough to startle her.

He shifted her feet apart so when he reemerged, he was between her legs and very close to both her belly and the tiny triangle of fabric covering her lady parts. Lady parts he wanted to explore quite thoroughly.

Her laughter died, and she looked down at him with censure, her hands dropping onto his shoulders. “This is not right, Hunter.” But she didn’t push him away.

“What? I’m cold. Your legs are warming me up.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“I have to be close to you to protect you.” He gave her a wink.

“Now you’re just being a tool.”

But she still didn’t shove him away.

Someone bumped into Melanie’s shoulder as he was walking past. He glanced down at Melanie, then Hunter, then back to Melanie. “Do I know you?” he asked, tilting his head.

“She’s a famous porn star,” Hunter told him with a straight face. “You’ve probably seen her online.”

The guy’s expression lit up. “That’s it!” He grinned and nodded. “All right, cool, nice to see you in person. Love your work, if you know what I mean.” He waved and kept going.

Melanie glanced down at Hunter and said, “Seriously?” But she burst out laughing.

“You’re famous. What can I say? Don’t hide your light under a bush.” He wasn’t sure that was how the expression went, but he rolled with it.

“Why do I feel as though you’re always saying something perverted without actually saying something perverted?”

“Because I have mad skills.” He stared at her belly button and the droplet of water that was rolling down over her flesh. He wanted to lick her, taste her. Slide his tongue into her belly button and right on down, taking a nip at the front of her bikini bottoms. “Why are you so gorgeous?” he murmured. “You’re making this really difficult.”

He looked up to find she was staring down at him, eyes wide, mouth open. She looked as if she wanted exactly what he wanted. For him to peel down her panties and use his tongue until she came hard, begging for more. Her legs had clamped onto his sides, her fingernails digging into his shoulders.

“I’m not trying to be difficult. I’m trying to avoid making a mistake.”

“I respect that. Doesn’t make me any less turned on. But I won’t push you.”

Even though it gave his arm a serious twinge, he lifted her down carefully into the water, onto his hips. She protested with a squawk but didn’t resist beyond that. For a brief moment, he lowered them both and enjoyed the torturous feeling of her body all up on top of his, her ass nestled on his thighs and cock, her breasts pushing against his chest.

Then he tossed her fully into the water.

6

M
ELANIE
SURFACED
,
HAIR
in her face, water up her nose, snuffling and gasping and blind. Swiping at her eyes, she tried to open them so she could find Hunter and kill him. But it burned, so she wiped again and said, “That was mean!”

Especially since she had been seriously entertaining the idea of kissing him. He was so sexy and hard. And sexy. And hard. She had felt his erection nudging her in the most dangerous of places. Everything in her had felt hot and melting, despite her lower half being submerged in the water.

She no longer felt hot. She felt drowned.

Treading water, she finally pried her eyes open and glared at him. “What was that for?”

“I was distracting us both.” He bobbed in the water and looked all kinds of nonchalant and gorgeous. “So I don’t do something you’ll regret.”

“And you wouldn’t regret it?” Damn it, why did she say that? Dipping her head back so she could slick her hair off her face, she floated up onto her back for a minute. When she straightened again she realized he was staring at her chest.

“No. I am one hundred percent certain I wouldn’t regret a damn thing.”

She felt her cheeks flush.

His gaze lifted, and he met her eyes with his. “But then again, I live my life forward, not backward. If I’m not hurting anyone, what’s to regret?”

“Why did you and your girlfriend break up?” she asked. Sure, he’d said it was because he didn’t express emotion, but what did that mean exactly? There had to be more to it than that.

He put his arms up in an X. “Nope. Not talking about that.”

How annoying. He was throwing her veto rights back in her face. “Why? What do you have to hide?”

He shook his head. “Uh-uh. I’m not falling for that female manipulation. I have nothing to hide. I just don’t see why we need to talk about my ex when what I really want to talk about is you.”

That sounded just as manipulative as her question. “Maybe we should talk about the weather. It’s a beautiful day.”

“It is.” He swam a little circle around her, as if he had a hard time standing still. “So how do you like your job?”

Her job made her think of Ian, of course. Without meaning to, she made a face.

He looked chagrined. “I’m sorry. That’s probably a bad subject right now.”

But she shook her head. “No, I have to think about it, deal with it. Everyone says don’t get involved with your boss, and it turns out they’re right.” It made her feel glum. “I’m not ready to face being at work.”

“You don’t have to for another week.”

“On the plus side, no one knew we were dating.”

“Okay, this whole secret thing?” He held his palms out. “Bullshit. Complete and total bullshit.”

“He didn’t want it to compromise his work.” It sounded lame even as she said it out loud. It was lame. “Plus he didn’t want to incite his stalker.”

“I don’t get it. I can see wanting to keep you safe, but it’s almost impossible to keep a stalker from ferreting out every detail of your life, and in the end all it did was insult you.”

She had nothing to say to that. It just made her feel stupid. She had been stupid. Plain and simple.

When she didn’t respond, he swore. “Shit. I’m sorry. I’m being insensitive. I’m just pissed on your behalf, Melly, that’s all.”

“I know.” She did. Hunter wouldn’t hide a relationship. He would think it was dishonest and disrespectful. She could already tell that about him. “And my name isn’t Melly, you know.” Melly was more fun than she was.

“You’re Melly to me.”

“A porn star?” She wasn’t sure what would give him that impression of her since she’d turned down his overtures.

“No. Sexy but sweet. A good time but fiercely loyal. That’s Melly. That’s you.”

Somehow it was exactly what she needed to hear. “Thanks, Hunter.” But she still felt melancholy. “I’m sorry.”

“Are you going to start apologizing for shit you don’t have to apologize for? Because if you are, I’m heading to the hot tub instead.”

“But...”

“But nothing.”

He was right. She had nothing to be sorry about. So she’d made a poor choice in hanging in there with Ian. What of it? It wasn’t the end of the world. It wasn’t cancer or poverty or war. It wasn’t even a waste of time necessarily because she had Learned Things. So really, why was she boo-hooing and taking on blame she shouldn’t own?

So she just smiled at him. “You’re right. I’m in Mexico, and back home there is three feet of snow on the ground. There is nothing to be sorry about.”

“Damn straight.” Hunter gestured to the swim-up bar. “Join me for a drink? It’s on me.”

She laughed. “It’s all inclusive.”

“Damn. I can’t even look generous and dashing.”

He had this ability to deliver lines with a completely straight face and a dry tone that if she didn’t know him would have her wondering if he was kidding or not. But she saw through it. Forced circumstances allowed a quick assessment of someone else’s character. He may look big and fierce and capable of snarling, but he was a softie at heart.

“You’ve been nothing but generous and dashing,” she said, swimming next to him to the pool bar. “This is the oddest thing. I feel like a mermaid.” She perched on a partially submerged concrete stool, most of her body still in the water, and leaned on the bar. “It must be really weird to be the bartender.”

“Agreed. Do you care if I have a beer?”

“Why would I care?”

“Because I’m your bodyguard.”

“Whatever.” That was utter nonsense, and they both knew it. “Have a beer.”

He sat on the stool next to hers, and for a while they sipped in companionable silence. Melanie wasn’t always comfortable with conversational lulls, but this was different. It was a moment for just relaxing in the sun and having a fruity drink with a cocktail umbrella.

When she yawned and said she wanted to take a nap, Hunter readily went with her back to the lounge chairs. Melanie lay on her stomach on her towel with her head resting on her crossed arms. She closed her eyes. It was peaceful, soothing.

Until suddenly she felt Hunter’s hand on her back.

“What are you doing?” She had almost been asleep.

“You’re already starting to burn. I’m putting sunscreen on you.”

She eyed him over her shoulder, trying to see if he had an ulterior motive, but he was just squirting sunscreen into his hands and working it into her flesh. Even with her sunglasses she could see he was right—her skin was pink. “Thanks.”

It felt insanely good to have him massaging the lotion into her skin. He started from her shoulders and worked his way down, going under the string of her bikini top. She let out an involuntary groan. “God, that feels good.”

“Your shoulders are really tense.” He was squatting down next to her, so she could feel his body brushing against hers here and there. His voice was low, soothing.

Why didn’t all men have voices like that? She felt safe, well cared for, when Hunter spoke. As if he could beat the crap out of someone who threatened her safety, yet could still touch her with care and tenderness. Not that he was being tender. He was being thoughtful, though. Or maybe it was just an excuse to arouse her and wiggle under her defenses. If that was the case, it was working. She felt relaxed and very much aware of how close his palms were to her backside. How easy it would be for him to slip his hands under the fabric and stroke her teasingly...

Clearing her throat, she clamped her thighs together. They were in public. She needed to get a grip. Plus she’d already told him she wasn’t going to sleep with him. What kind of a flake would she look like if she changed her mind three hours later? Three days maybe wouldn’t look so bad. Maybe by then she would feel a little more settled and confident.

She made eye contact with the woman a few feet to her right. The woman smiled, looking at her enviously.

“I wish my husband would massage me like that,” the woman said. “You’re very lucky.”

“Oh, well,” Melanie said for lack of anything better to say.

“Frank, see that?” The woman turned to her husband, who had an explosion of chest hair rising above a protruding belly. “Her husband is giving her a back rub.”

Frank’s eyebrows went up as he glanced over at them. “That’s because his wife is hot.”

The wife smacked Frank with her book, and justifiably so. Melanie gave an awkward laugh. “Oh, dear,” she said, unsure what else to say. While Frank’s wife was not twenty-five and a size two, she was an attractive sixty-year-old with a cute pixie haircut and a good figure.

“For what it’s worth,” Hunter said to the wife as Frank heaved himself off his chair and lumbered to the pool, “I think Frank got the better end of the deal.”

She smiled. “Thanks, that’s sweet of you.” Pointing her finger at Melanie, she said, “Hold on to this one.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Hunter said mildly.

The melancholy she’d felt earlier came rushing back. She had been anticipating romance on this trip, and now she just felt...lonely. Hunter was better company than she could have imagined, and he was saving the vacation from being a complete disaster. But he wasn’t hers. They weren’t a couple. She wanted to be part of a couple with a guy like him, a man who was protective and attentive, but all she had was a breakup note and a bodyguard who might want to sleep with her, but nothing more.

It sucked. Just flat-out sucked.

But Hunter had magic hands, and between his touch and the sun’s warmth she managed to doze off despite her sudden wistfulness.

She dreamed Hunter was making love to her while Ian stood in the background taking pictures. Even in her sleep it killed her arousal. They did not belong in the same dream. Period. Ian was her lackluster former reality. Hunter was her current fantasy.

* * *

H
UNTER
DEBATED
LETTING
Melanie sleep any longer. She probably needed the rest, but at the same time, she’d been out cold for forty-five minutes in the sun, and despite the sunscreen she was slowly baking to the color of watermelon innards. She hadn’t reached lobster status, but she would if he didn’t haul her Northern butt inside for the night. So he leaned over from his own chair and touched her shoulder.

“Melly, wake up, sweetheart.” He wasn’t sure when he had started thinking of her by her nickname or when exactly he’d earned the right to use a term of endearment, but it felt good to say it. Maybe he was craving female companionship more than he’d realized, and he didn’t just mean the naked kind.

Her eyes opened slowly, and she looked disoriented. “Hmm?”

God, she looked sleepy and sexy, and he had an instaboner. “You’re cooking like an egg out here. We should go inside for a bit.”

“Oh.” She lifted her head and tried to glance at her back, but just went cross-eyed in the process. “Okay. What time is it?”

“It’s five. Actually, I guess the sun will be setting soon. I forget it’s still winter when we’re here in this kind of weather.”

“Do they have bugs here?”

That seemed off topic. “There are bugs everywhere.”

“I forgot the sun sets early, too. I didn’t bring bug spray.” She yawned and sat up. “I wonder if the gift shop has any.”

“Let’s wait and see if there are any mosquitos first.” Though he didn’t like how she worried all the time, he had to admit he liked that she was organized. Prepared. Being in the military had made him think in terms of readiness, and he appreciated that she was of a similar ilk. “You ready for dinner?”

“Can we get room service? I’m still really tired. I’m going to go to bed early tonight.”

“Sure. No problem.” Because what he needed was to be holed up in the room with blue balls. There wasn’t even a table in their room, so it would be dinner in bed. Only what he wanted wasn’t on the menu.

He helped her gather up her giant beach bag, though he was disappointed when she pulled her tent of a cover-up back on. Why women wore those things was beyond him. They were at a resort. It wasn’t as though she was going to get bounced from the gift shop if she was in a bikini.

Back in the room, she pored over the room service menu for approximately a thousand years, asking frequent rhetorical questions.

“I wonder if the risotto is any good?”

“Do you think I can get the mushrooms separate or would it be premixed?”

“There’s a soup of the day. I wonder if it will be vegetable based.”

Finally, he couldn’t take it anymore. “Why don’t you call and ask?”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother them.”

He held his hand out for the book so that she no longer could abuse her viewing time. “Let me see.” When she gave it to him, he glanced at it and said, “I want the sirloin.”

“You didn’t even look at anything!”

“I’ve seen all I need to.” Beef, his mouth, they were good to go. “Make a decision, please. I’m hungry.”

She took the book back and said, “I worry if I get a salad the lettuce might be wilty.”

For hell’s sake. There was absolutely no way to know any of the things she was pondering. There were greater risks in life than ordering a Cobb salad. “Then, don’t get a salad.”

Melanie was lounging on top of the bed in her bikini. The cover-up was off again because she’d said she was going to shower after they ordered room service. “Do you get grumpy when you’re hungry? I’m sorry. I’ll hurry up.”

Being hungry wasn’t helping, but his stomach wasn’t the major issue. “No,” he said shortly. “Now pick up the phone and order something.”

“Okay. Jeez.” She gave him a look as if she’d been chastised and picked up the phone.

Hunter went out onto the patio and got into the hammock. He didn’t really want to be out here, but it was away from Melanie and all her sexiness. All he wanted to do was smack that sweet little ass of hers and get her moving. Then toss her down and make her forget about the goddamn risotto.

The dolphins were noisy, squeaking and splashing and slapping around. He wasn’t sure if the pair was engaged in foreplay or having a marital spat. Or maybe it was two guys, and they were busy trying to show each other up. Whatever the situation, it wasn’t exactly relaxing on top of his empty gut and his throbbing dick.