Seaside Seduction (4 page)

“Selena, I can tell you’re exhausted. Do you want to lie down here on the couch? I can get you a blanket and a pillow.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m a little drowsy, but I’m enjoying our conversation.”

“Felicita should have the room ready in no time and then you can take a good long rest. In the meantime, let me check your head again. You’re not supposed to sleep if you have a concussion.”

I kneeled in front of her and shifted her thick, dark hair to check her scalp for signs of head injury. I enjoyed the task way too much. As I wove my hand through her hair, my arm brushed against hers. Electric tingles jumped like lightning bolts from her body to mine. Her skin felt so soft and she emitted an aroma of salty sea and coconut. I wanted to close my eyes and breathe her in.

“You’re spending a lot of time looking for a wound that’s not there.” She turned her head toward me and wetted her lips with her tongue.

Holy hell.
Her slightly parted lips were so close, and I ached to devour them like the ripe fruit I’d eaten earlier. “I just wanted to make sure I didn’t miss anything—I can’t have a beautiful woman falling sleep and never waking up on my watch.” I stood up and seated myself beside her on the couch.

She leaned back on the sofa and placed her hands behind her head, her eyes gazing off in the distance. “It’s comforting to have someone worry about me—you make me feel very safe. I’ve had to fend for myself a lot over the years.” She pulled her hands loose, waved them in the air and let them drop in her lap. “I’m really rambling here.”

The dreamy look left her eyes. “So what got you interested in weapon systems?”

I tried to meet her gaze, but she glanced away. “I’m glad you feel safe with me. That’s how I want you to feel. To answer your question, my parents lived near the University of Arizona, so I spent most of my weekend hours in the science library when I was growing up. I devoured magazines about weapons systems and studied them for hours. When missiles don’t hit their targets, many innocent lives are lost. Ideas on how to improve their accuracy kept popping into my head, so I started sketching out designs.”

“Why did you decide to work for yourself?”

“I’m a natural leader. I enjoy implementing ideas. My way.”

Selena tipped her head and gave me a one-sided smile. “Oh, I get it.”

I could tell by the lines on her forehead and her smirk that my answer disappointed her. Taken off guard, insecurity tugged at my insides. This wasn’t an emotion I experienced often. I tried to mask my discomfort behind a serious expression. “I don’t think you understand my point.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Oh, I think I do. You’re one of independent types who thinks he knows everything.”

Great—she thinks I’m a self-centered know-it-all.
Eager to defend myself, I spoke the instant she finished speaking. “No, you’re wrong about that. I’ll never stop trying to learn—our company’s future depends on maintaining the leading edge of technology so I’m always searching for answers. But when I finished school, my head was full of innovative ideas. Whenever I interviewed with defense system companies, it seemed clear they wanted me to follow orders, not contribute new ideas. It wasn’t a matter of ego at all; pursuing that path would have been a waste of my talent. Are you seeing my point?”

She reached for me, but before our hands met, she jerked her hand back and dropped it in her lap. “Yes, Nick. It makes perfect sense, but something you said reminded me of my younger brother.” She slouched forward, clasping her hands together. “Tomas always acted like a know-it-all and like we were all so boring and stupid. His involvement in the drug business led to his death and Jose and I becoming orphans.” She gazed off into the distance and lines marred her tanned forehead.

I knew she had more to say, so I waited for her to continue.

She raised her hands from her lap, extending them in one direction and the opposite one as she made her comparison. “Jose has that same drive and determination that you have.” Her forehead muscles relaxed, her brows pulled apart and a teeth-revealing smile lit up her face. “My teaching methods are far from conventional. You and I aren’t really all that different.”

“Well, I’m glad I convinced you I wasn’t an arrogant jerk without having to call references. So what do you do different in your classes?”

She met my gaze for a second before glancing away. “The principal at Costa Verde Elementary never forces us to teach what’s on standardized tests. He agrees with my philosophy that kids need to learn from experience as well as books. I took my third-graders out of the classroom often. One morning, after a student said she was scared to walk to school, we spent almost two hours at a nearby crosswalk. We reviewed street crossing safety, practiced watching for drivers and bicyclists, and making eye contact to make sure we were seen. We walked by driveways and looked at walls and shrubbery that could obscure drivers’ views. I always asked for their input, too, so they learned critical thinking.”

When I leaned in closer to her, she mirrored my movement and our heads nearly collided. “You’re the kind of teacher today’s kids need. Whenever I told most of my teachers I wanted to build innovative weaponry when I grew up, they told me I should consider a less destructive career. When I explained improved weapon accuracy could minimize civilian casualties, they shook their heads as if I were a naughty kid who couldn’t be changed. My seventh grade teacher, Mr. Golden, was the first teacher who understood my vision. He was like a mentor to me back then.”

“How did he find out you were interested in weaponry?”

I grinned, remembering the man’s enthusiasm. “One time he asked us to do an oral report on any science topic we found interesting. Naturally, I chose weapon system development. After my presentation, he went on and on about how well I had presented the subject. He’d taken some structural engineering courses in college and found any kind of design work fascinating. One time when we were talking about a design I had in mind for aircraft weaponry, he said I had an amazing mind and that if I worked hard enough, I could accomplish anything.”

Selena reached out and skimmed her smooth fingertips over my arm. “He sounds like an amazing teacher. That’s what I always wanted—to teach my students to recognize their talents and gain confidence in their abilities. So many of the children at our school come from impoverished families. What teachers do for them can change their lives.”

Impulse led me to reach for her hand and squeeze it. “I’m sure you are a wonderful teacher.”

Felicita stepped into the room. “I wanted to let you know I finished making up Miss Selena’s room.”

Still holding Selena’s hand, I rose to my feet, pulling her up from the couch as well. “I’ll show you the guest room.”

She gazed at our woven hands before slipping her fingers free and taking a step back. “That won’t be necessary.”

“Have a good rest, Selena.”

“Thank you, Nick.” Selena tossed me one last irresistible brown-eyed gaze before disappearing down the hallway.

My oak desk sits in front of a picture window that presents a stunning view of the Sea of Cortez. My mother had once remarked on the oddity of having placed my work area on the far side of my two thousand square foot living room, but I loved the high ceilings, views and natural light the room provided. And I always keep the antique oak desk tidy and free of clutter so it looks almost decorative, as if I don’t spend most of my hours there. I never tire of watching the sunlight dancing across the sapphire blue water, the brilliance of the sky or the shape of the shifting clouds.

But for some reason, ever since I’d met Selena, my senses felt more alive than ever before. I watched the billowing storm clouds roll over the choppy gray sea, noticing how the thunderheads ranged from bleached-shirt white to the dark shade of grey I preferred for suit jackets. I glanced away from the clouds and angry waves to flip on my study lamp and focus on the computer screen.

I scrolled through my email messages, searching for one from Michael.
There it is.
I opened the document, copied the figures and plugged them into a spreadsheet. Within minutes, I’d established profit margins and prices and checked for errors.
I’ll email it to accounting now.

Engrossed in my work, I didn’t hear Selena walk in. But as I attached the spreadsheet, I sensed her presence. Her nearness sent a jolt of sexual excitement through my body and sucked every coherent thought from my brain. The aroma of the coconut lotion she’d smoothed onto her skin tinged my nostrils. I imagined massaging the lotion into her smooth skin, moving my hands in a circular motion over her back, between her shoulder blades, down the ridges of her spine until I reached her buttocks.
What was I doing?
Oh, yes.
I clicked
send
and spun around in my chair.

Her eyes looked swollen from sleep, and her hair was a mass of tangles. I imagined her tousled appearance after a long night of athletic lovemaking.

“It looks like you’re really busy. I’ll just step out onto the patio for a little fresh air.”

A surge of blood raced to my cock, and I fidgeted in my chair. “I wouldn’t go out there if I were you—you’d blow away in that wind. And don’t worry—I’m finished here anyway. Did you rest well?” I glanced at my watch. She’d slept for almost two hours.

“I did thanks. The bed was so comfortable, and I was so beat, I slept like a rock.” She raised her arms in the air and yawned. When she dropped her arms back to her sides, her breasts bounced underneath the blue cotton.

Using every ounce of will, I veered my eyes upward. “Why don’t you sit down here for a moment? Felicita will have lunch ready for us in the dining room in a few minutes.”

“I thought I’d overslept. When I woke up, it was so dark, I thought it was already night—then I peeked outside and saw those storm clouds.”

“Yes, it will be pouring here soon. You can see the rain coming across the water.”

Still standing, Selena peered out the window, focusing her gaze on the sheets of rain that blocked out larger and larger chunks of the gray, turbulent sea. She shivered and rubbed her hands over her bare arms. “Storms scare me for some reason. If there’s time, I’d like to clean up. I rushed out here without even brushing my hair.” Her fingers trembled as she tugged at the locks of tangled hair that nestled around her neck and shoulders.

Seeing her so vulnerable, I felt a painful tug inside my chest—a little like a strained muscle, a little like something else. I wanted to wrap a shawl around her shoulders, hold her hand, and assure her she’d be safe. But at the same time, I wanted to peel that turquoise dress off and devour every delicious inch of her body.
Holy hell.

I clenched my jaw, willing my emotions back into check. Lightning flashed, quickly followed by a crash of thunder. “Sure, go ahead. Everything you need should be in your room. There are even some unopened toothbrushes in the drawer to the right of the sink in the bathroom.”

“Yes, I noticed right away you’ve bought all the essentials your female visitors would need—eye lash curler, bath salts, spermicidal gel.” She said the last word in the list as casually as the ones preceding it, but a mischievous smile turned up the corners of her lips. “I’ll be back in a minute.”

By the time I opened my mouth to protest, Selena had retreated down the hallway. I rubbed at the sides of my lips and paced the floor. I didn’t know what ate at me more, Selena’s persistent belief I was a womanizer or thinking about what use my seventy-five-year-old widowed mother had for spermicidal gels.

I stared at the computer screen, feeling its luring pull. Work was safe, having Selena in my house made me feel like cross between a horny teenager and a protective mother. I’d never felt more like I needed therapy.

I dropped into the chair, telling myself it would be rude to get absorbed in work again.
But it would just take a minute to see if Michael answered my email.
I reached for the keyboard and then lifted my hands, pushing the chair back. Selena already worried she was a bother. I wanted her to feel at home, not like a nuisance. She clearly had a lot of pride; she wasn’t used to people protecting her or giving her handouts.

It had to be tough to lose parents at such a young age, particularly under such tragic circumstances. I tried to think of a way she could link back to her life. Calling her brother seemed like a good idea. I wondered why she hadn’t been in a rush to call him. It seemed odd. If she couldn’t reach him, she could try the elementary school.
They’d have to know when she left town.

I rose from my chair when Selena returned. Instead of following my instincts, which urged me to entangle my fingers in her dark soft hair, I clasped my hands and spoke. “Would you like to call your brother?”

She let out a long sigh and frowned. “Yes, I suppose I should.”

She took the phone from my hand and held it, looking at me with teary eyes.

”What’s the matter?”

“I’m so afraid something bad has happened to him. I wanted to ask you if I could call the minute I walked in here, but then I changed my mind because I didn’t want to hear…” Her voice caught in her throat, and tears streamed down her cheeks. “He’s the only one I have left.”

I massaged the smooth tanned skin on her shoulders before pulling her into my chest. “I’m sure your brother’s safe, but you don’t have to call him right now if you don’t want to.”

Her tears dripped onto my shirt. “No, I want to try.” She took a step back, offering me a weak smile and then dialed the number.

I held my breath, silently hoping he’d answer.

She pulled the phone away from her ear and let her hand drop to her side. “The number’s been disconnected. I hope he’s all right. The work he does is so dangerous.”

“What kind of work does he do?”

“He’s some kind of detective or agent—he really won’t tell me much about it. But he changes addresses and phone numbers every few months.”

“In that case, he’s probably fine. He’s done this before, right?”