Tempted in the Tropics by Tracy March Page A

heavy northern US accent, “when they told us this was the Pool of Love, they weren’t lyin’.”
    Paige stared at Lane, wide-eyed, and said under her breath, “Please tell me those aren’t your parents.”

Chapter Eleven
    Paige was mesmerized by Caldera the moment she and Lane stepped into the grand, sweeping expanse of the open-air lobby. Its bold, organic architecture melded perfectly with the scenic beauty of the Caribbean. She stood with her mouth agape, captivated by the view of the Pitons—St. Lucia’s iconic twin mountain peaks—across the jewel-toned blue and green sea. Glancing at Lane, she was nearly too stunned to speak. He looked around appreciatively, but he’d managed to keep his jaw from dropping. He’d probably seen similarly stunning views before, but she certainly hadn’t. A few minutes ago, she never would’ve believed that anything could steal her thoughts away from kissing him in the Pool of Love, but this tropical mountainside resort—and its views—had managed to do just that. For an instant.
    Their kiss had been something straight out of a sexy fairy tale, and she’d lost herself in every sultry second of it. She was a little freaked out by just how much she’d been enjoying it before Speedo Man and his glow-in-the-dark wife had shown up and wrecked the mood. Awkwardness had settled between her and Lane, and they’d left pretty quickly after that. They’d avoided the subject with light conversation on the rest of the drive to Caldera, with Paige wondering what he thought about the kiss and what might happen now. She might’ve mustered the nerve to ask him, if she’d known how she felt herself. Could she handle a temporary romance? And did he even want one?
    “This is amazing,” Paige said, gesturing around Caldera. She’d seen pictures on the resort’s website, which were also incredible, but they couldn’t compare to experiencing it all in 3-D. No wonder Liza and Cole wanted to get married here. Paradise had absolutely nothing on this place.
    The bellman, a friendly native St. Lucian who’d introduced himself as Gerard, offered both of them a flute of chilled champagne and led them toward the massive reception desk made of knotty, rough-hewn wood.
    Paige raised her glass to Lane. “Here’s to island magic.”
    “You and your magic.” Lane clinked his glass to hers, and they drank.
    “You weren’t complaining about it in the Pool of Love.” She smirked and took another sip of the fizzy, fresh champagne. Maybe joking would make things a little less awkward.
    “Why would I complain?” He grinned mischievously, leaned in close, and said, “You were practically stripping for me.”
    Paige gasped. “You wish. That was totally unintentional, and you know it.”
    “So you say.” He shot her a sultry glance and licked a bead of champagne from his bottom lip. Paige’s heart quivered. Maybe he did want an island romance.
    “Welcome,” the woman behind the reception desk said with the same lilting island patois as Gerard and the attendant at the Black Water Pool. “I’m Marielle. Pleased to be at your service. Believe it or not, the views from your sanctuary will be just as lovely or even lovelier.”
    Paige shot Lane a curious glance, which he shared, then faced Marielle. “Sanctuary?” An image of vast open spaces with wild horses running free flashed in her mind.
    Marielle nodded. “That’s what we call our accommodations here at Caldera.”
    “Got it.” Paige hadn’t had time to devour Caldera’s website in detail or she would’ve known that. As it was, she’d just have to enjoy all the decadent surprises as they came her way.
    “Looking forward to the wedding?” Marielle asked.
    Paige grinned proudly. “I’m the maid of honor. Actually, the only bridesmaid.”
    As Marielle clicked the keys of her computer, Lane said quietly to Paige, “Who has to wear an Orioles orange dress.”
    “That’s nothing to tease about. Don’t tell Liza, but that’s a