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Chapter 8

Author: Desiree Holt

Kyle leaned back in his seat in the sporty little roadster and studied the woman driving the car. The more he was with her, the more he wanted her. The last thing he'd expected when he'd been forced into what he thought of as social purgatory was to be met so enthusiastically by a woman so desirable, so hot he was instantly aroused. When she'd jumped into his arms, plastered herself against his body, and kissed him like she meant serious business, he'd responded without his brain even being engaged. He'd almost forgotten his first assumption that his parents, especially his mother, had set the whole thing up.

She was, in fact, delightful. If he could forget his irritation at being set up, playing along with her little game was going to be fun, unexpected spice for a trip he'd been dreading and a business situation he wanted nothing to do with. He anticipated long days and longer nights with Pepper, until he had to leave. Despite the fact that they were supposed to be engaged, she understood when he left, the charade was over. It would be up to her to figure out what story to tell people.

When it came time for him to leave, he'd go along with whatever story she chose to tell, head back to Dallas as fast as he could, and tell his father the bed-and-breakfast business was a dead end. Meanwhile, he'd enjoy a nice, uncomplicated situation with a woman who had made his groin tighten and his blood heat with just one hot kiss. All in all, he was feeling a lot better about losing so much time out of his schedule. Engrossed in his introspection, he totally missed the fact that Pepper was talking to him.

"Kyle? Are you with me? What do you think?"

"What?" Okay, she'd been talking to him and he'd been wondering how soon they could move beyond the hot kiss. He raked his fingers through his hair. "Sorry. I was enjoying the scenery, and I guess I got lost in it."

Which, he had to admit with some reluctance would be easy to do. Again he had the thought that Bayview could easily have doubled as a movie set, a tourist town that had been created by set designers. The main drag was lined with shops of every type, painted in the bright pastels people associated with the South, especially Florida. The gaily decorated touristy ones were mixed in with things like a pharmacy, a shoe repair place, and a cleaners. The businesses on the right were definitely water oriented: surfboard shops, water skis, fishing equipment, and, at the end of the street, a large marina. The boats not bobbing in the water in their slips were out on the bay, skimming the surface, propelled by their sails or powerful engines.

But nothing captured his attention as much as the woman next to him. The cotton slacks she wore stretched across her thighs as she drove, tempting him with the firm flesh beneath them he'd felt when she'd wrapped them around him earlier. The navy-blue polo shirt with the Hibiscus House logo fell softly against her firm breasts, mounds his hands itched to cup and mold and knead. Even through the layers of shirt and bra, the hard points of her nipples made themselves known. Was she as turned on as he was?

Damn! Not since he was a horny teenager had he been so tempted to take a woman to some secluded place, undress her bit by bit, and make love to every inch of her gorgeous body. He wanted to run his tongue over her skin, knowing it would taste so sweet. To pull those nipples into his mouth and graze them with his teeth. To bury his face between her thighs and lick the silken flesh cradled there, lapping at it and tracing his tongue over every pink wet inch.

Damn!

As surreptitiously as he could, he shifted position on the seat and tugged at his jeans, suddenly tight against his growing arousal. He wondered what people would think if he had to walk around like this the entire time he was here? He was pretty sure Pepper hadn't been offering him unrestricted access to her charms when she cooked up this plot, but, of course, anything could happen.

He realized with a start the car had stopped. When he glanced through the windshield, he discovered, shocked, they were parked in a small public lot where the street curved to the left. Beyond the lot was what he presumed was a public beach and an open view of Hibiscus Bay.

"I can only assume you are struck dumb by the quaint beauty of our little village," Pepper said, her words edged with laughter. "That's why you haven't said a thing for the past ten minutes, right? Not even to answer my questions?"

Kyle hoped his face wasn't red. He'd been unforgivably rude, but how could he tell her he was mesmerized by her sensual beauty and couldn't think of anything except getting her naked and being inside her wet heat? He climbed out of the car, adjusting his jeans again before turning to her with what he hoped was a natural grin on his face.

"Actually, it was your beauty I was admiring." He winked at her.

"Flattery is not required." A faint blush crept up her cheeks.

Didn't people pay her compliments? Were all the men in this town blind?

"It's not flattery," he assured her. "It's the truth." He took her hand as if it was the most natural thing in the world to do. "Let's take a walk along here and you can tell me all about Bayview. And give all the folks who I'm sure have heard about your fiancé a chance to gawk at me."

She laughed, and the tension he'd seen in her body eased a fraction.

"Okay. Good. You're right." She tugged him along. "Come on. Let's wander until lunchtime. Be forewarned. You may run screaming from here before the tour is over. I love it, but Bayview isn't for everyone."

Some perverse urge inside him had him holding onto her hand as they strolled along the wooden walkway from the beach back to the sidewalk. Even when they stopped in each of the little shops, he never let go except when he had to shake someone else's hand in greeting. He couldn't begin to say why. Holding hands signified an attachment that usually sent him screaming into the night. It smacked of attachment, the word that gave him chills.

He was so out of his element, but he tried to take careful note of everything as they wandered from store to store. His experience with small towns was very limited. He'd always been addicted to a metropolitan environment. That was why he'd been so successful developing sites for Montgomery Hotels.

But if his parents were dead set on buying this place, he wanted to see what it had to recommend itself as a destination stop. Tourists wanted kitschy places to shop, restaurants with good food and atmosphere, activities to entertain them. Everywhere he walked, every place he looked, that seemed to be the case. In his mind, he was already laying out the marketing tools and drawing up a plan. This might not be his cup of tea, but there were definite possibilities to consider.

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