Tempted in the Tropics by Tracy March Page B

serious fashion faux pas. It could be a real train wreck if the press manages to crash the wedding. I might end up being the Fash-hole of the week on Fashion Police . Joan Rivers would show me no mercy based on the color of that dress alone.”
    “You must be Paige,” Marielle said.
    “Yes, ma’am.”
    “Our sanctuaries are named for the colors of the iridescent tiles in the infinity pools and bathrooms of each unique space. You two will be in the cerulean sanctuary together,” Marielle said.
    Paige’s heart bounced into her throat. Lane raised his eyebrows, looking both shocked and curious. Paige quickly glanced away from him, at least forty-seven questions ricocheting in her mind. Do I want to share a “sanctuary” with him? Is he okay bunking down with me? What will his parents think? How many ways will I kill Liza for putting me in this super-awkward position?
    “Are you sure?” she asked Marielle, who glanced at her computer, nodded, and smiled.
    “It’s one of our most luxurious sanctuaries, but if you’re not keen on blue…”
    “She prefers orange,” Lane teased.
    Paige shot him a look.
    “We have the coral sanctuary,” Marielle said.
    Paige could’ve sworn Lane was trying not to laugh. Wasn’t this uncomfortable for him, too? “Cerulean is cool,” she said. “I meant are you sure that the two of us”—she gestured at Lane and back at herself— “are booked in the same sanctuary? Do you have a reservation for Dr. Lane Anderson?”
    Marielle clicked several keys on her computer, her expression remaining pleasant, if not a little baffled.
    Lane leaned in and whispered, “You had to go and ruin it for me.”
    Paige grinned, thinking maybe he had wanted to stay with her. “Aw, bummer. Is your favorite color blue? Because whatever slice of the rainbow you’re assigned to would suit me fine…we can switch.”
    “I’m so sorry.” Marielle primly pressed her fingers to her lips for a moment. “I assumed you two were together. We do have the crimson sanctuary reserved for Dr. Lane Anderson.”
    “No worries,” Lane said to Marielle. He leveled his gaze on Paige, gently grasped her hand, and grazed his fingers across her palm. A flurry of tingles fluttered down her spine. “But I am a little disappointed.”
    “Only a little?” Paige teased, relieved everything was settled.
    Marielle glanced at their clutched hands. “You can certainly stay together if that’s what you prefer.”
    Dammit. Paige pressed her lips together. The awkwardness had returned with a vengeance, and she was trying to keep as straight a face as possible. What if she said yes and he said no, or the other way around? She wasn’t even sure which way she wanted this thing to go. Certainly staying with him would give them more opportunities for sexy moments like their kiss—and more. Their time together was limited, so why not make the best of it?
    But it wasn’t as if she wanted to spend every moment with him, and it wasn’t just the two of them she had to consider. This was Liza and Cole’s wedding celebration. Lane’s parents were going to show up, if they hadn’t already. Regardless of what was or wasn’t going on between her and Lane, she wanted to make a good impression on them. Plus, the Sutherlands would be here. Paige wasn’t sure if Sylvia would be pleased or freaked out about the success of her matchmaking operation if she found her and Lane already shacked up in St. Lucia. She was all for making free-spirited choices, but logic had to rule this one .
    She lifted one shoulder. “I don’t think so,” she said at the exact moment Lane shook his head and said, “Two rooms…”
    Heat crept up Paige’s neck and into her cheeks. He’d made the right choice too, but just for flattery alone, she wished he had voted for them to stay together. His reserved sanctuary might be crimson, but it couldn’t be nearly as red as her face.
    …
    Lane was thankful none of his friends had been around to see him