he could move from behind her. He got to his feet, dusted sand from his jeans and reached down for her hand.
Thinking he was ready to head back to their suite, she let him pull her up. But instead of walking toward the hotel, he took her closer to the water’s edge.
Moonlight splashed like silver across the surface of the water. The sky was filling rapidly with stars, scattered like fairy dust across the horizon.
How fanciful she was tonight. Wishes and fairy dust. It seemed appropriate for such a magical setting, though. Maybe she’d wake up in the morning and this would have all been a dream.
If that was the case, she was determined to exist in her dream world for as long as possible.
Without a word, Ryan took her in his arms and began to move to the distant strains of music. He gathered her close and she tucked her head beneath his chin, leaning into him as they swayed in time with the ocean and the soft melody lilting through the air.
Closer and closer they melted together until they were barely moving at all. She was tucked securely against his body, a perfect fit.
He laid his cheek atop her head and turned slowly, his feet guiding their rhythm.
Finally they stopped moving at all and stood locked together as night fell around them. He ran his fingers through her hair and kissed the top of her head.
She tilted back so that she looked into his eyes and she saw need and desire, but she also saw hope.
Her eyelids grew heavy as he slowly, ever so slowly, lowered his head until their mouths were so close but not yet touching. The moment stretched on, their breaths mingling, their gazes never breaking apart.
As the music drifted quietly away, he kissed her.
It was the most romantic, exquisite kiss she’d ever been given. It was a kiss that told her more than words ever could that this man cherished her. He wanted her. He would have her.
And when he finally pulled his mouth away, he tugged her into his arms and stood holding her tight as the moon bathed them in pale light.
Nine
Kelly pulled the nightgown over her head and warily glanced down her body. There was no doubt the garment was beautiful. A concoction of lace and satin that floated over her skin and molded to all the contours.
But she felt far too exposed. Her breasts looked too…big. Her belly looked enormous. Thank God she couldn’t see her feet.
She eyed her door, knowing she was supposed to go to Ryan’s room after she’d undressed for bed, but she couldn’t seem to make herself take those few steps.
It wasn’t that she didn’t trust Ryan. No, it was herself she didn’t trust. She’d already made a big enough fool of herself when it came to this man. Once back in his arms, snuggled up close to him, she’d probably lose what little common sense she had left.
She sighed and sank onto the edge of her bed. Her hesitation was just another sad indication of the rift in their relationship. She’d never been inhibited around Ryan before.
He’d often be propped up in bed with his laptop, his brow creased in concentration as he worked on who knew what. She’d crawl into bed with exactly nothing on and tease and taunt him until his laptop and work were forgotten.
He used to laughingly say that he knew better than to bring work home because she never let him get away with it.
And now she couldn’t even bring herself to walk into his bedroom.
A knock sounded at her door and then it opened a crack. Ryan stuck his head in. He stopped when he saw her sitting on the bed.
“Everything okay?”
She nodded.
He eased the door all the way open and walked in. He stood in front of her for a moment and then sat down on the bed next to her. He didn’t say anything. He simply laid his hand on her lap, palm up, and waited for her to take it.
After a moment, she slid her hand over his. He twined his fingers through hers and squeezed gently. Then he stood and pulled her to her feet.
“We’re both tired,” he said. “Let’s turn in and we’ll worry about tomorrow when it gets here.”
That didn’t sound like the Ryan she knew. He was a man who planned everything to the nth degree. He had schedules, lists, planners, calendars. He not only worried about tomorrow, but the next year