Carly Phillips - Secret Fantasy

But he’d never lived Juliette’s existence, never realized living a sheltered life could cause a person to miss out on so much. To his surprise, he was grateful he was giving her good memories to replace the more recent painful ones. Ones he’d inadvertently caused. He just wished watching her wasn’t so difficult.

Arousingly difficult. She licked her fingers delicately before turning to the napkin in her lap and wiping her hands. She set the napkin aside and yawned, then said, “It’s not the company, I swear.”

“It’s the travel. I’m surprised you’ve made it this late. Did you want to watch the pathetic rendition of the Beach Boys or call it a night?” He didn’t know which he hoped she’d choose but a night to rethink his strategy wouldn’t be a bad thing.

She sighed. “Much as I hate to say this, I think turning in would be best.”

Disappointment warred with relief. “I understand.”

After they collected and deposited their paper goods and garbage, she turned toward him. “I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Me too. But until I walk you to your door, it’s not over.” He wasn’t ready to let her go yet and hoping for a glimmer of information wasn’t the only reason.

“You don’t need to do that. But I’d like it if you would.”

And he’d like to take a jump into the cool ocean water. Walking her to her secluded cottage door, he felt more like a kid on his first date than an experienced reporter out to get a story. But Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither would he get what he needed tonight.

“Well, we’re here.” She turned around, her back against the door, palms braced behind her.

From the gleam in her eye he wouldn’t get a fast escape and a quick good-night. From his body’s response to this woman, he didn’t want one.

Her fantasy, he reminded himself. He’d worked damned hard to discover it-for his own selfish purposes, he admitted to himself. But now when the time came to make her feel both desired and cherished, his reasons for doing so were no longer cut and dried. He enjoyed giving her the attention and reveled in knowing he put that sexy gleam in her eyes.

Doug stepped forward and stroked her cheek with his hand. She sighed and, on impulse, he twirled one long curl around his finger. Her hair was as silky smooth as he’d thought but her skin was softer.

He tugged gently, bringing her closer, her lips within kissing distance. Would they feel as supple and delicate as her flesh? Or would the brief good-night kiss he intended blaze out of control, treating him to a firmer, more powerful touch of her mouth against his? He’d promised himself to keep his distance and still swore sex would never come into play-not if he was using her as a means to uncover information.

But kissing her now had nothing to do with his story and everything to do with his need-for her. He leaned in until his mouth covered hers. And then he knew. Her lips were soft but determined. They carried a sweetness from their last shared Piña Colada and a gentleness he’d expected. But she greeted his overture with a lack of hesitancy and an eagerness which shouldn’t have taken him off guard. But it did.

She did. All his strength went into maintaining a seductive kiss that left her wanting more. Hell, he knew how badly he wanted more. As if she read his mind, her lips parted in invitation. His tongue slipped inside her warm, moist mouth, a sigh of pure pleasure reverberated in her throat and his body shook in reaction. He moved forward without thought, locking her between him and the cottage door. Her hands moved to cup his waist, her nails digging into him despite the barrier of clothing.

For a brief moment, he let her body mold to his. For a brief moment, he allowed her to feel what she did to him. And then, in what had to be the most difficult move of his life, he stepped back and broke the kiss first. But he wasn’t ready to break the connection between them. He rested his forehead against hers and listened to her labored breathing, a perfect match for his rapidly beating heart.

“You’re good,” she murmured.

Doug couldn’t help it-he laughed. “You’re not so bad yourself.” He raised his head and met her soft, hazy stare.

Reaching out, she swiped at his damp lips with one finger. A tremor of awareness lodged in his throat.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said.

“I meant it as one.” His lips tingled from her touch and his mind filled with conflicting thoughts. “You should get some sleep.” And he should back off and regroup.

He withdrew the room key from her hand and pushed open the door. But he remained outside as she passed by him and whispered a soft good-night in his ear.

Doug actually trembled as she shut the door behind her. “Damn.” He needed a new strategy and he needed one fast.

Otherwise he was in danger of losing himself in Juliette Stanton and ignoring the burning need for information. A need she too easily made him forget.

JULIETTE ROLLED OVER, surprised to realize it was morning already. One of the perks of this resort was the luxury of not sleeping in a typically uncomfortable hotel bed. The mattress was as firm as the one at home, the pillows ample and comfortable. She reached her arms out wide and stretched, waking her tired muscles. The bed was large enough for two and she’d lain awake last night wishing she weren’t alone. Wishing she’d had the courage to invite Doug inside.

But she hadn’t asked and he hadn’t suggested, by innuendo or otherwise. He was a gentleman-she liked that about him. He was taking things slow-she had mixed feelings about that.

She forced herself to rise and head for the bathroom. Intellectually, she understood it was Stuart’s betrayal that made her doubt herself and her desirability but she couldn’t deny the resulting need to have Doug prove he was as interested in her as she was in him.

When it came to this man, her desires were far from satisfied and she wasn’t just talking physically. She wanted to get to know him better, too. She wanted to know what his fantasy was and whether she was an integral part of its fulfillment. And since one-night stands weren’t her style, she appreciated the chance to get to know him better before jumping into intimacy she wasn’t emotionally ready for.

After splashing cold water on her face and brushing her teeth, she was awake if not ready to tackle the day. A knock sounded at her door and she jumped in surprise before remembering she’d hung the room service card on her door late last night.

“Coming!” On a full stomach and caffeine, she could better deal with the beach, the bikinis and Doug, not necessarily in that order.

She headed for the closet to search for something to put on over her short nightie. She already knew the long, terry robe she’d packed herself was gone, in its place a short, silk wrap courtesy of Gillian-an inappropriate garment to answer the door in. Juliette rifled through the clothes, hoping for sweats or something with more coverage, but her sister had made sure comfortable was replaced by sexy.

The knock came again, louder this time. “Coming,” she called once more.

She sighed and grabbed for the short robe. It was this or her nightie and there was no contest there. She wrapped the cool, satin-feeling garment around her, knotting the belt as she walked.

She opened the door quickly before the waiter left along with her food. But the man standing before her wasn’t a waiter.

It was Doug. Her heart leapt at the sight of him and Juliette knew she was in deep. He wore the sunglasses he’d had on the first time she noticed him, but, up close, with razor stubble on his face and a sensual grin on his lips, he gave new meaning to the word sexy.

And knowing she’d kissed those same lips…She shivered and, without thinking, pulled the lapels of her robe together-as if anything could protect her from his potent effect.

As if she even wanted protection, she thought wryly. He tipped his head forward, and despite the dark glasses, she knew he’d noted her attempt to cover herself, felt his heated gaze travel over her skin and brand her.

“You ordered room service?” he asked.

She’d been so entranced by seeing him, only now did she realize he not only carried a breakfast tray, but also a bouquet of exotic flowers beneath his arm. She’d worried whoever was at her door would lose patience and walk away, but by Doug’s intense expression he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

He extended the flowers and she accepted them, inhaling the fragrant scent. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He cleared his throat. “I can put the tray on the terrace and we can eat there, we can eat inside, or I can put it on the dresser and leave you in peace, but have pity on me because the darn thing’s getting heavy.” His lips turned upward in a slow grin that was part reluctant but completely sexy.

He had this fantasy thing down pat. She doubted he knew exactly what her fantasy was, but she couldn’t deny he was fulfilling her every whim. He knew just how to cater to her and make her feel special, knew exactly how to set her up as the center of his universe. And if Juliette had to guess, he wasn’t at all worried about her asking him to leave. After last night, why should he be? She wanted him here as much as he apparently wanted to stay.

She treated him to a smile of her own. “If I’m going to have breakfast beneath the warm sun overlooking an exotic garden of tropical plants, I’d hate to do it alone. The terrace door is open. Why don’t you set the tray there?” She let her hand fall to her side and her robe parted as if on command, exposing the lacy-edged nightgown and nothing more.

Although his eyes darkened with interest, Juliette knew she hadn’t revealed much.

Except her desire to have him around.

Doug let out a long breath. He’d thought a good night’s sleep would give him perspective, distance and a renewed vigilance to dig for information and dig deep. He was a professional and his father needed him home. He had plenty of reason to give his full attention to his goal. He’d even brushed aside the possibility that Merrilee might not allow him to stay on. He needed to be here too badly to think about that now.

But as he took in Juliette’s soft, sexy robe he knew remaining detached wasn’t something he could accomplish easily. His plan for the day would keep them busy and give him the opportunity for get-to-know-you conversation and hopefully some revelations in between. But he still had to deal with now. And one glance at how she looked first thing in the morning shifted his focus. He no longer wanted to talk because a different desire had taken hold.

He’d already acknowledged his weakness for soft, sexy women. And Juliette, fresh from her bed and achingly beautiful, tempted him to put his baser needs ahead of his more pressing ones. Before he could act on an impulse he’d regret, he headed inside and, ignoring the open bedroom door and the rumpled bed in which she’d slept, he went straight for the terrace and the welcoming breeze.

“I’ve fantasized about this.” Her husky voice sounded behind him.

“About rolls and butter?” He lifted the tray and revealed her breakfast selection. Better than delving into the subject of real fantasies with a half-dressed woman he desired.

“About eating breakfast on a tropical island with a gorgeous man by my side.” She held on to the slider door with one hand and swung around until she’d joined him on the courtyard overlooking the gardens. “And how can you call a continental breakfast just rolls and butter?”

She settled into a white wrought-iron chair, crossing her legs and revealing an expanse of skin that had him drooling for far more than the food on the tray.

“Because I prefer sweets,” he said. He couldn’t control his tone of voice, deepened by her effect on him.

She picked up a strawberry from the side dish of fresh fruit. “Sweet like this?” she asked, twirling the ripe, red berry between two fingers. “Or more like this?” She lifted a sugar-coated pastry from the basket.

“No.” He walked to where she sat. Bracing his hands on the arms of her chair, he leaned over her, close to her mussed hair and fresh skin. “More like this.” He brushed his lips over hers, meaning to keep things light.

And he did. Featherlight and teasingly soft, he managed to maintain control-until she sighed. A soft sigh that did him in. His knees nearly buckled. Hell, if not for his grip on the chair, he’d have fallen at her feet, and that was a first. But he held on to his dignity and allowed himself a long, lingering taste of her luscious mouth before forcing himself back.