Slippery When Wet Read online

  He took a step and was at her side. “Don’t go. Have dinner with me.”

  She blinked at him.

  “Just dinner. I’m not going to give you a bad time. I swear,” he said, holding up his hands, palms toward her. “Baltimore never happened. Pffffttt.” At her suspicious look, he went back to his seat. “Look, I’ve been down here for three weeks. I’ve gotten certified for scuba and dived half a dozen reefs, some of them twice. I’ve parasailed. I’ve been to see the ruins. I’ve taken a catamaran around the island. I’ve made friends with all the staff. It would be nice for a change to talk to someone who wasn’t paid to be friendly to me.”

  A quick frisson of sympathy whisked through her. Taylor sat down slowly. “Somehow, I have a feeling that the only time you dine alone is when you want to.”

  “I haven’t exactly been in the mood for company, at least I wasn’t at first. I’ve been…mellowing over the past week,” he decided.

  Somehow, mellow wouldn’t have been the word she would have chosen. True, he lounged in the chair across from her, but it was with the watchful indolence of some beast that could spring on its prey without warning. And she had the uneasy feeling that despite his assurances, his prey just might be her.

  The waiter stopped by to take their drink orders. Dev eyed her as she asked for a beer. “You’re in Mexico,” he said. “Why not a shot of tequila?”

  She looked at him for a moment. Six-pack abs, the voice whispered. “Why not? A shot please,” she asked the waiter.

  “Herradura, por favor,” Dev added, “y dos cervezas.”

  “What’s Herradura?” Taylor asked suspiciously as the waiter left.

  “Top quality tequila, the kind that you don’t need salt and a lime to get down. You can sip this stuff,” he added, nodding at the bottle that the waiter was bringing their way.

  “A connoisseur?” she asked, raising a brow.

  He shrugged. “Three weeks in Mexico will teach you a thing or two if you’re prepared to listen instead of talk.”

  Somehow she could see that about him, a certain quiet watchfulness that absorbed the world around him. The waiter set the shot glasses on the table and poured the amber liquid, then nodded and left.

  Dev picked up his glass. “Here’s to vacations.”

  “To vacations,” she echoed and took a sip of the tequila. To her surprise, it flowed down smooth and warm, though with a fiendish little kick at the end. Savoring the flavor, she glanced up to see Dev watching her.

  “Like it?”

  She nodded, taking another sip. “I’m surprised. In college we always did the whole salt and lime routine. I thought you had to.”

  “Only with cheap rotgut tequila. The salt and lime is just to cover up the taste. The good stuff like this is made for sipping,” he said, demonstrating.

  “Mmm. Could be dangerous. A sip here, a sip there, and the next thing you know you’re hammered and dancing on the tables.”

  His eyes lit with interest. “Now that I’d like to see.”

  “Don’t hold your breath,” she laughed.

  “So what if you dance on the tables? Isn’t that what vacations are for? No one knows you here.”

  “Except you.”

  “I’ll never tell. This is time-out from the real world, you can do whatever you like. And, you know, if what you’d like is to dance on the tables, I’m all in support of that.”

  “You’re so generous.”

  “Aren’t I, though,” he said modestly. “So if you’re not going to dance on the tables, what are you going to do?”

  She moved her glass meditatively in a little circle on the table. “I don’t know, probably as little as possible. I haven’t had a break in almost five years. I keep catching myself starting to think about work and I have to remind myself to let it go.”

  “It takes a couple of days, at least it did for me. Especially if you’re down here with no distractions.”

  “When was the last time you had a vacation?”

  “I’m not sure I’ve ever really had one,” he said thoughtfully. “Not like this, anyway.”

  “Relaxation makes you live longer.”

  “So does being able to afford groceries.” He shrugged. “I’ve mostly been running my own business for the past ten years. It takes over your life. I’m sure you can relate.”

  “What do you do?”

  “Ah, ah, ah.” He shook his finger at her. “Baltimore doesn’t exist, remember? No talking about the real world and definitely no talking about work.” His eyes lingered on her as the waiter set their beers on the table. Dev reached out to take his glass, held it up. “Here’s to being off the clock.”

  The clink of glass rang in the warm evening air.

  “So you said you’re going to do as little as possible. What does that mean?”

  She shrugged. “Lie on the beach, sleep in, read books.” She didn’t figure adding wild sex to that list would be wise, although she was suddenly certain he’d be happy to volunteer. And as the tequila flowed through her veins, she was beginning to think it wouldn’t be such a bad idea. In fact, if his current mood held, Dev Carson might be just what the doctor ordered. “I figure I’ll just relax for a week. Maybe dance a little, flirt a little. I’m on vacation, after all.”

  “So you are. Well, it is an all-inclusive resort. I think flirtations are part of the list of services. Did I mention,” he asked casually, “that Raoul considers me an honorary local?”

  She looked at him consideringly. “Can I take that to mean you’re offering to be of service?”

  He sat up and leaned forward. “Oh, service is the name of my game, Ms. DeWitt. Satisfaction guaranteed.”

  It was ridiculous to start a flirtation with someone from home, she thought. Baltimore doesn’t exist, the words played through her head. Isn’t that what vacations are for? Maybe. And maybe it was time to let the old Taylor come out to play.

  HE’D NEVER SEEN A WOMAN GO into ecstasy over mango cheesecake before, Dev reflected as he watched Taylor eat her dessert. Her tongue flicked out to catch a crumb of crust, and his pulse bumped for a moment.

  It had been doing that a lot in the past couple of hours.Dev Carson considered himself smart, tough, ambitious and focused. When he decided to go after something—or someone—he was usually successful. What he wanted, he got.

  And he wanted Taylor DeWitt in the worst way. At first, it had been a game: embarrass her a little, have some fun flirting. Somehow over the course of the day and evening, she’d become an unendurable temptation, a prospect of pleasure that drummed through his mind.

  Watching her eat had been a revelation. Unlike most women, she didn’t pick at her food but dug in with enthusiasm and little hums of satisfaction. She sampled every exotic dish offered at the show-cooking buffet, experiencing it with an exquisite pleasure that had him imagining what she would look like in the throes of orgasm. After he’d taken her there.

  Taylor pushed her plate away. “That was fabulous.”

  “You looked like you were enjoying it.”

  “Especially since someone else is doing the cooking and cleaning. But I’m stuffed. If I don’t move soon, you’re going to have to carry me to my room.”

  Now that was a prospect with some possibilities, he thought. “Just say the word.”

  Taylor laughed. “I think I can walk for now, I just need to be encouraged a bit.”

  Dev rose and held out his hand. “I can help with that.”

  The sultry strains of Latin music floated into the night sky as they approached the open-air theater area. Soft light filtered down onto the dance floor, where couples swayed to the slow, hypnotic beat from the band.

  Dev took her hand. “Dance with me?”

  Taylor lifted a brow. “Fred, I thought you’d never ask.”

  “You laugh, but prepare to be amazed and humbled.”

  “Another one of the things you’ve picked up since you’ve been here?”

  “I like to consider myself a multifa
ceted individual.”

  He led her down the steps and onto the polished wood floor. Taylor looked at the couples nestled together. Anticipation sent a sharp thrill through her, then he swept her in toward him, unexpectedly close.

  She’d expected the classic clinch and shuffle of the high school slow dance, but he surprised her, capturing one of her hands in his and pressing his other against the small of her back. The heat spread through the thin silk of her dress, making her catch her breath.

  Making her melt against him.

  “I don’t know how to dance like this,” she said unsteadily, clutching at his shoulder with her free hand. His hard, rounded shoulder. “I only ever learned to shuffle around.”

  “It’s a rumba,” he murmured in her ear, “a standard box step. Just hold on and follow me.”

  The guitar moaned low and soft over the clicking tropical rhythm of a hollow woodblock. An exotic woman dressed in fiery red stepped up to the microphone and began to croon in Spanish, a passionate tale of what Taylor figured was no doubt doomed lovers.

  Moving in time with Dev’s body was immensely seductive. She felt the muscles of his thighs flex against hers. She looked up and found her gaze snared by his, the green shadowed in the dim lighting. He brought their clasped hands in close to their bodies, pressing her against him. The call of the guitar drifted up into the sky.

  THEY STROLLED DOWN the shadowed path that wound through the jungle toward the beach. Dev tangled his fingers with Taylor’s. “I couldn’t believe it when I first got down here,” he murmured. “I thought I’d walked into another world. Home was gone.” It hadn’t been quite as easy as that, if he was honest. It had taken days in the hot sun, hours of swimming with the schools of bright fish in the tranquil blue depths of the reefs to erase the memory of finding his fiancée with another man. No matter that he’d known deep down they were a bad match, the betrayal had scored his pride. To smooth it over, he’d flirted with a couple of the beach babes but something had felt wrong each time. Each time, he’d ducked out with a simple kiss good-night.

  Somehow, he didn’t see himself doing that with Taylor.They followed the trail out of the lush plantings to circle around the edge of the pool, now glowing pale turquoise. At this hour, the area was deserted, the guests all up at the theater area dancing and watching the show. They had the beach to themselves.

  A vivid red hibiscus blossom, fallen from its bush, lay on the pavement. Dev stopped to pick it up. Turning to Taylor, he tucked it behind her ear. “Now you look like an island girl.”

  “You’re the one who looks like an islander, with that tan and the batik and the shells…”

  He fingered them. “The clerk at the hotel store threw them in when I bought my trunks.”

  “I don’t have to ask if she was a she,” Taylor said dryly.

  “She was indeed, and also about sixteen. Not my style.”

  “You’re not into giggling Mark Anthony fans?”

  “I’m not into girls.” His eyes darkened. “I’m more interested in women.”

  Taylor swallowed and the silence stretched out for a beat, then two. In the darkness, the crude stone heads of the showers had a brooding, almost menacing cast, like vengeful gods come down to earth. Beyond, Dev could hear the hiss of the waves. He reached out and caught her hand again. “Let’s go out by the water.”

  The moonlit beach was dotted with the shadowed bulk of palms. They slipped off their shoes and stepped onto the sand. Away from people and noise, Taylor could hear the small rustles of the night creatures going about their business. To one side, a crab scuttled into a stand of mangrove. And the waves grew louder.

  Dev led her past the palm trees and onto the dock. Their feet made hollow thumps as they walked along the creosote coated planks. Thick ropes swung from squat posts, making only a passing pretense at security. It didn’t matter, really; in such shallow, warm water, a person falling in could hardly get hurt. Out on the end of the dock, a red light atop a tall post winked out to sea.

  The water stretched away from them black and fathomless. Far in the distance, on the coast of the mainland, a few lights glimmered. Above them, stars painted their patterns on a midnight velvet sky.

  Dev looked up at them. “The stars are different down here, have you noticed?” Somehow, that had been the thing that had finally allowed him to let go the frustration and betrayal, that sense of being somewhere different. He’d come out to the dock at night a lot those first weeks. Gradually, the peace had seeped into his soul. “That was the first thing I looked for down here, the Southern Cross.” He pointed. “You can barely see it on the horizon.”

  Taylor stepped close to him and he felt the soft swell of her breasts brush against his arm. “Where?”

  He moved so that she was in front of him and pointed over one of her shoulders so she could sight along his finger. “There, there, and…there.”

  “Do you know any other constellations?”

  “I was pretty into it when I was a kid.” It had been a good excuse to get out of the house and away from the fighting. “There’s Sagittarius and Scorpio,” he said, pointing them out. Taylor’s hair brushed against his arm, silky and light.

  “How come all of the constellations are always critters?”

  “They’re not. You’ve got Perseus and Orion, they were warriors, and Cassiopiea, she was a seer.”

  “Always alone, though. Don’t you think all those lonely shepherds that named the original constellations would have seen lovers somewhere?”

  “Sure. They just didn’t make it into the astronomy books.”

  She leaned back against him and he wrapped his arms around her. “I like the idea of lovers painted on the sky.”

  “How about earthbound lovers?” He nuzzled her hair, breathing in her scent.

  Taylor turned in his arms. In her eyes, he read promise, challenge and mischief. Then she pressed her mouth to his. It jolted through him down to his toes. He made himself concentrate on the soft, nibbling temptation, holding back from letting his hands rove over her body, that sleek, alluring frame. He could taste the faint sweetness of the margarita she’d had at the theater.

  Then she stepped away. “How about lovers in the water?” she asked, dropping her shoes.

  Exhilaration tore through him. “You don’t have a suit,” he pointed out.

  “Mmm, you’re right, and I’d hate to ruin this nice dress.” She reached down and pulled the pink silk up, sliding it off over her head.

  Underneath, she wore nothing.

  His mouth went dry. Her skin glowed pale and lovely in the moonlight, rounded breasts tipped with the darker shadows of her aureole. Before he could look his fill, she turned and walked to the edge of the dock.

  “I think you’re running behind, Mr. Carson. You’d better catch up,” she said, flashing a look at him over her shoulder.

  And dove into the water.

  3

  THE SALTWATER CLOSED AROUND her body and slid against her skin, warm as an embrace. Like a sea creature, she arrowed through the water, feeling a rush of illicit arousal at the brush of liquid against her bare nipples, her bare behind. She burst up through the surface laughing at her own audacity.

  And blinked. The dock was empty in the moonlight. Taylor gave a quick glance around, raking her fingers through her wet hair. He was here somewhere, she knew. A man like Dev Carson didn’t walk away from a challenge. She felt the thrill of expectation.Then the water next to her exploded and she jumped and whirled to see him rearing out of the water.

  She put a hand to her chest, suddenly intensely aware of her bare breasts above the waterline. “You just took ten years off my life, you know.”

  “Did you think I was a sea monster?”

  Actually, with the water streaming from his shoulders and his hair soaked and disheveled, she thought he looked more like some kind of a sea god. A surge of anticipation ran through her as he moved nearer. “You can never tell what’s swimming around,” she said, then blinked as he
disappeared. Seconds ticked by, then she jumped at the feeling of a slippery hand sliding down her back.

  He surfaced a few feet away. “Well, you know, you’re taking your chances, swimming at night. You never know what’s going to decide to take a bite out of you.” He stepped closer and a little shiver of anticipation ran through her.

  “I know. Something just fondled me,” she said.

  “Those damned fish are getting more forward all the time.”

  “Maybe it wasn’t a fish. Maybe it was some other kind of critter.”

  “All the more reason you should stay close so I can protect you. I’ll keep an eye out for the bad guys.”

  “You must have good night vision.” She swayed lightly in the soft pressure of a swell.

  “I eat lots of carrots.”

  “Planning ahead?”

  “It never hurts to be prepared.”

  “Were you a Boy Scout?”

  He laughed, a low, rough sound in the dark. “No, I hung with a more disreputable crowd.”

  It had her pulse thumping. “Maybe I should go in, then. A young lady’s known by the company she keeps.”

  His teeth gleamed in the dim lighting. “Did you learn that from your mama?”

  “From cotillion, thank you very much.”

  “Somehow you don’t seem like the type to get too caught up in rules. After all, the signs say no skinny dipping.”

  “I wanted to go swimming,” she said with dignity.

  “Without a suit?”

  “I’m impatient.” Somehow, she was breathless, even though she hadn’t moved.

  “So am I.” His eyes were shadowed. The moonlight had leached the color out so that they just seemed to glow silver.

  “What are you impatient for?”

  He skimmed a hand across the water between them and stepped a bit closer. “You.”

  Taylor stared at him, watched him come near. Then she whipped out of the way, swimming past him so that she brushed his legs. His fingers started to close around her ankle, but she whisked past. When she felt him stroking after her, she abruptly reversed direction in a flip turn and surfaced, breathing hard.