to apologize for. I wasn’t exactly an innocent bystander. Besides, I’m not asking for safe.”
He shook his head, regarding her warily. “You’ve had an incredible shock, with the bombing and all. I think it would be wise for you to take a little time to recover from it before taking a step you might regret. Why don’t we pretend that kiss didn’t happen?”
Brianna wasn’t convinced sweeping the scorching encounter to the far recesses of her memory bank would be as easy as he made it sound, but she went along with it. “Why don’t we walk some more?” she suggested. She needed an immediate distraction to keep from saying—or doing—something she’d regret later. “I have mega calories to burn off after that amazing lunch.”
They strolled companionably along the pounding surf until the sun dipped low on the horizon. She was aware, the entire time, of every breath he took, every accidental brush of that hard male body against hers.
All too soon, it was time to resume their drive.
“I can take chauffeur duty for the rest of the trip if you’d like to enjoy the scenery,” Luke offered when she emerged from the changing area.
The sunshine, fresh air, and her full stomach had made her deliciously relaxed, so she readily agreed. Suffused by a comfortable languidness, she was content to sink into the buttery-soft leather of the passenger seat and let him take the wheel. Before long, dusk began to transform the car’s interior to a cozy cocoon, and her eyes grew heavy.
“Go ahead and nap if you’d like,” Luke told her. “You can trust my driving.”
She hadn’t intended to take him up on his offer, but her eyes gradually drifted shut.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Later, Brianna woke to the rhythmic slapping of the wipers laboring to keep the windshield clear of a pelting downpour.
“Where did this storm come from? I thought the forecast called for clear skies.”
“It did. Apparently the meteorologists forgot to mention the monsoon,” he deadpanned. “The latest weather report says a tropical storm veered off its expected track. We’re headed right for the center of it. Do you want to keep going, or would you prefer to stop somewhere for the night?”
Luke had rolled the cuffs of his crisp white dress shirt up to his elbows, revealing strongly muscled forearms. The shirt molded to the hard contours of his muscular frame, caressing his sinuous torso. The man was temptation personified.
“Brianna?”
“Oh, sorry. Option two sounds good to me.”
“That works for me, too. The roads are getting treacherous. We’d probably be safer flying at this point.”
“I’ll take my chances on the ground, thanks.”
“Trevor mentioned you never fly on company business. Did you have a bad experience?”
“Not exactly.” Though she seldom spoke about it, Brianna felt strangely compelled to share the reason behind her aversion to flying with him. “When I was a little girl, my mother told me my father died in a plane crash while he was traveling on business. I’ve been terrified of flying ever since, even though I know it’s totally irrational. And, as it turns out, my fear isn’t even founded on fact. My mother fabricated the story about my father’s accident so I wouldn’t know he was alive. She kept his existence hidden from me, and mine from him.”
“I’m sorry. That has to be rough. Have you met him yet?”
“No. I think I want to, but I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“You’ll know when the time is right. And speaking of timing—look,” he said as he nodded toward a road sign indicating a turnoff to a hotel.
Signaling for the turn, Luke followed the route to a lovely resort tucked at the edge of the ocean. The moment he pulled up under the portico, a valet ran over to collect the car.
“Tonight’s your lucky night,” the harried young man at the front desk relayed with a tired smile. “We have one room left. We normally don’t sell out this time of year, but the bad weather
He shook his head, regarding her warily. “You’ve had an incredible shock, with the bombing and all. I think it would be wise for you to take a little time to recover from it before taking a step you might regret. Why don’t we pretend that kiss didn’t happen?”
Brianna wasn’t convinced sweeping the scorching encounter to the far recesses of her memory bank would be as easy as he made it sound, but she went along with it. “Why don’t we walk some more?” she suggested. She needed an immediate distraction to keep from saying—or doing—something she’d regret later. “I have mega calories to burn off after that amazing lunch.”
They strolled companionably along the pounding surf until the sun dipped low on the horizon. She was aware, the entire time, of every breath he took, every accidental brush of that hard male body against hers.
All too soon, it was time to resume their drive.
“I can take chauffeur duty for the rest of the trip if you’d like to enjoy the scenery,” Luke offered when she emerged from the changing area.
The sunshine, fresh air, and her full stomach had made her deliciously relaxed, so she readily agreed. Suffused by a comfortable languidness, she was content to sink into the buttery-soft leather of the passenger seat and let him take the wheel. Before long, dusk began to transform the car’s interior to a cozy cocoon, and her eyes grew heavy.
“Go ahead and nap if you’d like,” Luke told her. “You can trust my driving.”
She hadn’t intended to take him up on his offer, but her eyes gradually drifted shut.
∞∞∞∞∞∞∞
Later, Brianna woke to the rhythmic slapping of the wipers laboring to keep the windshield clear of a pelting downpour.
“Where did this storm come from? I thought the forecast called for clear skies.”
“It did. Apparently the meteorologists forgot to mention the monsoon,” he deadpanned. “The latest weather report says a tropical storm veered off its expected track. We’re headed right for the center of it. Do you want to keep going, or would you prefer to stop somewhere for the night?”
Luke had rolled the cuffs of his crisp white dress shirt up to his elbows, revealing strongly muscled forearms. The shirt molded to the hard contours of his muscular frame, caressing his sinuous torso. The man was temptation personified.
“Brianna?”
“Oh, sorry. Option two sounds good to me.”
“That works for me, too. The roads are getting treacherous. We’d probably be safer flying at this point.”
“I’ll take my chances on the ground, thanks.”
“Trevor mentioned you never fly on company business. Did you have a bad experience?”
“Not exactly.” Though she seldom spoke about it, Brianna felt strangely compelled to share the reason behind her aversion to flying with him. “When I was a little girl, my mother told me my father died in a plane crash while he was traveling on business. I’ve been terrified of flying ever since, even though I know it’s totally irrational. And, as it turns out, my fear isn’t even founded on fact. My mother fabricated the story about my father’s accident so I wouldn’t know he was alive. She kept his existence hidden from me, and mine from him.”
“I’m sorry. That has to be rough. Have you met him yet?”
“No. I think I want to, but I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“You’ll know when the time is right. And speaking of timing—look,” he said as he nodded toward a road sign indicating a turnoff to a hotel.
Signaling for the turn, Luke followed the route to a lovely resort tucked at the edge of the ocean. The moment he pulled up under the portico, a valet ran over to collect the car.
“Tonight’s your lucky night,” the harried young man at the front desk relayed with a tired smile. “We have one room left. We normally don’t sell out this time of year, but the bad weather
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