Losing Control - By Robyn Grady Page 0,35

those pecs were pure power. Dark crisp hair covered his chest, disappearing where the definition of his abs began and starting again where a trail snaked from below his navel. As he moved past with that bucket, she imagined sliding a hand from his taut belly all the way up to the beating hollow of his throat and quietly sighed.

She had indeed meant to tease him with her bikini show earlier. She'd wanted to leave him gobsmacked and sorry that he'd ever thought to provoke her. But where her state of half undress had been calculated, Cole's current condition was not. He was perfectly comfortable in his body, even if the sight was making her mouth water.

Finished filling the tray, he straightened and faced her, gifting her a glorious square-on chest view. Wetting suddenly dry lips, she shrugged and made light.

"You didn't have to do that."

He was running a hand back through hair flopped over his brow. She couldn't resist drinking in the way that biceps hardened and bulged before his arm lowered again.

"Couldn't disappoint our friend, now, could I?" He headed for the steps. "I'm off to check out the drink situation."

"Liqueurs are in the cabinet," she said. "Mixers and wine in the fridge." But she'd spoken before she'd thought. After their passionate embrace earlier, she probably shouldn't be offering alcohol.

But he only said, "A beer'll hit the spot. Can I get you anything?"

When he stopped at the top of the landing and glanced back, looking like a bronzed god from on high, her insides tightened and that pleasant tingling burn began to filter through her veins again. Feeling light-headed, she waved him on.

"I'll grab something with dinner."

Before she'd finished her sentence, his focus shifted and he nudged his chin toward the clearing. "Which, if I'm not mistaken, seems to have arrived."

Three men and two women appeared, carrying in with them enough supplies to feed a king and his court. Good news because Cole was famished. He never found lunch on aircraft particularly satisfying.

While the guys set up a table close to the shoreline, the ladies covered a separate serving table with chowder, shellfish and juicy fingers of papaya. Around thatched food containers sat cracked coconuts filled with salads, tomato flowerets and frangipani leis.

He sauntered down to where Taryn stood watching, too, as their ultraprivate and - dare he say - romantic dinner was arranged.

The sun had begun to slip behind the island's western dome. Shadows cast by the surrounding palm trees had grown a little darker and longer. As a lone petrel flew low over the water, the tip of its wing slicing the glassy surface, the men wedged torches into the sand and, a moment later, mellow flames licked at the coming dusk. After a glass carafe filled with a pale pink drink was set at the center of the meals table, with customary wide smiles, the wait team bowed off.

Stomach growling, Cole rubbed a hand over his chest. "Well, this is special."

"I was emailed images and menus but, yeah..." Taryn moved forward. "This is pretty amazing."

Alone again, Cole retracted the chair placed on her side of the table and Taryn took her seat.

"This kind of scene will make for amazing footage," she said, sweeping a gaze over the tables, the bay and a sapphire sky pinpricked with the earliest awakening of stars.

"I wonder if the natives eat like this every night." Cole pulled in his chair, too. "On our way back from that spring today, our little friend showed me his village. Not a cell phone or laptop anywhere to be seen."

"It's good to turn off the outside world." She flicked out her napkin. "When was your last vacation?"

"I don't have time for vacations."

"You never take time off?"

"Not since my father semiretired." He filled her glass from the carafe then took care of his own. "Can't let the ship go under, remember?"

"You can delegate. Roman could take care of some things."

Cole conceded. "He's come on board, for as long as a week at a time when I've needed him to."

"Then why not take a break? Refill your well?"

"I'm here now, aren't I?" He raised his glass. Cheers.

"This isn't supposed to be a vacation." She sipped and sighed at the cool fruity blend he'd already tasted and fallen in love with. "Besides - " she set down her glass " - it's only a couple of days."

"Which I'm rather enjoying." Despite their spat earlier.

"Only goes to show. You should do it more often."

"Guess we should."

Midway through setting