Will Work For Love by Amie Denman

out of the tub knowing Chris was
watching her every move. She picked up a fluffy towel, forgetting
completely the dull ache in her shoulders and the blister on her
hand as she dried off in front of him.
    Whitney dropped her towel and stood naked before
Chris. She did not feel shy at all as his eyes roamed hungrily over
her entire body. She picked up a large towel and held it out to him
and then watched as he stood up, rivers of water running down his
broad chest, across the flat hard muscles of his stomach, and down
his thighs.
    Whitney summoned the last ounce of her self-control
as she felt a physical chain reaction exploding inside of her.
“C’mon,” she said, and then she turned and went through the door to
the adjoining bedroom.
    She stopped when she got to the bed and turned, the
back of her thighs brushing against the soft sheets. Chris, still
damp from the tub, wasted no time. He picked her up and laid her
gently on the bed then moved over top of her.
    Whitney was a take-charge kind of woman in her
business life, but right now she felt a thrill wash over her as
Chris’ muscular shoulders and forearms pinned her to the bed. His
mouth took hers and his kiss made her ache for his touch
everywhere.
    “I’ve wanted to do this from the first moment I saw
you,” he said when he finally drew back and took a breath.
    Whitney giggled. “When I was stuck in the revolving
door?”
    “Um-hmm,” he said, kissing her neck and moving
slowly downward.
    “Right,” she said skeptically.
    “Confession time,” he said, looking her in the eye
while toying with a lock of her long wet hair. “I actually watched
you for a minute before I decided to rescue you. I loved the part
where you pulled your sweatshirt over your head.”
    “It was hot in there.”
    “I could see that,” he said, smiling and returning
to his careful kissing of every inch of her exposed and flushed
skin. His lips didn’t stop until he had tasted everything she had
to give. Their bodies moved together slowly, rhythmically, like the
ocean waves washing the beach outside the open windows.
    Afterward, he sprawled half beside and half over her
and nuzzled her shoulder with his lips. Whitney had no idea how she
had gotten to this place in the short four days since she flew into
St. Thomas.
    And she had no idea how she was ever going to
leave.

Chapter Twelve
     
     
    She didn’t get the chance to serve him breakfast in
bed. The sunlight slanting across her face was the first thing
Whitney noticed the next morning. The empty bed next to her was the
next thing. Chris was gone, and her room felt very large and
hollow. She got up and went over to her window overlooking the
construction zone. She was afraid he was gone like some fantastic
figment of her imagination. She took a deep breath.
    But there he was. Already on a ladder with his
massive arms stretched over his head.
    Whitney watched Chris effortlessly climb up and down
the ladder, carrying boards on his shoulder, reaching for the loop
on his belt that cradled his hammer, fishing nails out of a pocket.
She couldn’t help but wonder, again, what was in it for him? Why
was he so interested in helping? She didn’t doubt that he was
attracted to her, they both felt the electric sizzle from the first
moment they’d met in the airport. And he was apparently alone for
the holidays. Still, it was hard to imagine anyone would sign on
voluntarily for the amount of work she needed. How did he manage to
make it look like he really wanted to do this and was even enjoying
it?
    Watching him confidently attack the project like a
one-man construction company bolstered her spirits. Calling the
East family with the wedding progress was something she couldn’t
even consider yesterday, but now she really believed she could
muster up the sound of optimism and reassurance in her voice
Taylor’s parents needed to hear. Not that she was going to explain
that her sexy island fling who just happened to be fantastic at
building