scant inches of her ear. “Because I want to see why the stripes on your blouse dip and swell so beguilingly.” His voice dropped another decibel. “I want to look at your breasts and fantasize about the way they look and feel.”
The warm color that flooded her cheeks couldn't have been faked, and she stared at him speechlessly. After a brief trip into eternity, she regained the use of her vocal cords. “Then, I think it would be best if I left my jacket on.”
He sighed, smiling ruefully. “Considering the social restrictions of our surroundings, perhaps it would.”
But he continued to hold her hand. Even when several other passengers converged on them for a clamorous discussion of the long weekend ahead, he didn't release it. She looked down at their two hands clasped together on the armrest. His was dusted with dark hair, hers smooth. His was long and strong, hers frail by comparison. His connoted protectiveness; hers looked in need of protection. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a good reason to withdraw her hand from his.
Their descent and disembarkation were carried off without a hitch. A line of limousines waited in front of the Hilton Head Airport to whisk away Seascape's invited guests, who would be arriving throughout the day. Terry was there to greet them personally.
After shaking hands with Josh, he pecked Megan's cheek: “I want you to meet my wife,” he said hastily, and it was all Megan could do to keep from laughing at his anxious but endearing manner. Josh, too, if his cocked eyebrow was any indication, was constraining his laughter. Terry designated a limousine for them and said, “I'll ride with you, if that's all right,” before turning to greet another guest.
Josh handed the driver Megan's bags as well as his own, which he had picked up as they were shuttled from the plane to the terminal. No sooner had he ducked into the back seat, where she was already seated, than he took her in his arms and pulled her against him.
“Josh—” was the only startled word allowed past her lips before he trapped them with his mouth. His lips opened over hers in a kiss as erotic, as thorough, and as mind-stealing as its predecessors. Megan wasn't even aware of the driver's closing the trunk of the car and assuming his place behind the steering wheel. She couldn't think past the splendor of being held firmly against Josh's body or the exquisite texture of his tongue as it rubbed against hers in a mating rhythm.
Only when she heard Terry's shoes tapping on the concrete sidewalk did she murmur a protest. Josh, too, must have been aware that they were soon to have company. He pulled away, only to kiss her hard and quick again, saying under his breath, “There's a smudge of lipstick on your chin.”
She was still blotting at it when Terry opened the door and moved in beside her. “Whew, what a day.”
As the car glided through the avenues of the recently developed island, he recounted everything that had happened since he'd last seen them.
“Have you been to Hilton Head before, Megan?” he asked excitedly. She could see his pride not only in his own resort, but also in the beautiful island itself.
“Yes, once my—” She looked swiftly at Josh. “My husband, James, and I came here for a long weekend. I loved it.” She glanced through the tinted windows at the deep forest that had been saved from destruction. “I love the South in general, with its moss-draped live oaks and pine trees. I also love the coast and beach. Hilton Head is the one place I've seen that combines both.”
“Well put,” Josh exclaimed. If her mentioning James had bothered him, he didn't show it. “Maybe I should hire you to write copy for commercials and print ads.” They all laughed.
“The original developers were unique, in that they wanted to preserve as much of the natural flavor of the island as possible,” Terry explained. “Did you know that at one time a huge cotton plantation stood on the island,
The warm color that flooded her cheeks couldn't have been faked, and she stared at him speechlessly. After a brief trip into eternity, she regained the use of her vocal cords. “Then, I think it would be best if I left my jacket on.”
He sighed, smiling ruefully. “Considering the social restrictions of our surroundings, perhaps it would.”
But he continued to hold her hand. Even when several other passengers converged on them for a clamorous discussion of the long weekend ahead, he didn't release it. She looked down at their two hands clasped together on the armrest. His was dusted with dark hair, hers smooth. His was long and strong, hers frail by comparison. His connoted protectiveness; hers looked in need of protection. For the life of her, she couldn't think of a good reason to withdraw her hand from his.
Their descent and disembarkation were carried off without a hitch. A line of limousines waited in front of the Hilton Head Airport to whisk away Seascape's invited guests, who would be arriving throughout the day. Terry was there to greet them personally.
After shaking hands with Josh, he pecked Megan's cheek: “I want you to meet my wife,” he said hastily, and it was all Megan could do to keep from laughing at his anxious but endearing manner. Josh, too, if his cocked eyebrow was any indication, was constraining his laughter. Terry designated a limousine for them and said, “I'll ride with you, if that's all right,” before turning to greet another guest.
Josh handed the driver Megan's bags as well as his own, which he had picked up as they were shuttled from the plane to the terminal. No sooner had he ducked into the back seat, where she was already seated, than he took her in his arms and pulled her against him.
“Josh—” was the only startled word allowed past her lips before he trapped them with his mouth. His lips opened over hers in a kiss as erotic, as thorough, and as mind-stealing as its predecessors. Megan wasn't even aware of the driver's closing the trunk of the car and assuming his place behind the steering wheel. She couldn't think past the splendor of being held firmly against Josh's body or the exquisite texture of his tongue as it rubbed against hers in a mating rhythm.
Only when she heard Terry's shoes tapping on the concrete sidewalk did she murmur a protest. Josh, too, must have been aware that they were soon to have company. He pulled away, only to kiss her hard and quick again, saying under his breath, “There's a smudge of lipstick on your chin.”
She was still blotting at it when Terry opened the door and moved in beside her. “Whew, what a day.”
As the car glided through the avenues of the recently developed island, he recounted everything that had happened since he'd last seen them.
“Have you been to Hilton Head before, Megan?” he asked excitedly. She could see his pride not only in his own resort, but also in the beautiful island itself.
“Yes, once my—” She looked swiftly at Josh. “My husband, James, and I came here for a long weekend. I loved it.” She glanced through the tinted windows at the deep forest that had been saved from destruction. “I love the South in general, with its moss-draped live oaks and pine trees. I also love the coast and beach. Hilton Head is the one place I've seen that combines both.”
“Well put,” Josh exclaimed. If her mentioning James had bothered him, he didn't show it. “Maybe I should hire you to write copy for commercials and print ads.” They all laughed.
“The original developers were unique, in that they wanted to preserve as much of the natural flavor of the island as possible,” Terry explained. “Did you know that at one time a huge cotton plantation stood on the island,
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