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An hour later, I've changed into jeans and a nice top, with spiffy sandals instead of my beach-appropriate ones. I've also availed myself of the huge breakfast buffet downstairs. Now, I'm back in my room on the second floor trying to figure out what to do for fun today. Sitting on the bed cross-legged, I flip through the mountain of brochures I grabbed from the racks in the lobby and try to decide where to start. Parasailing? I mentioned that to Richard, but the truth is that I have a problem with heights, so it's probably not a great idea. Snorkeling? Yeah, I can handle that. See the fishies, explore a coral reef…
Someone knocks on the door three times.
Maybe it's a maid coming to tidy up my room. I hope it's not the same maid who caught me sneaking out of that luxury suite.
I drop the brochure I've been perusing and climb off the bed. Some of the brochures slide off onto the floor, so I sweep them up in my hands and dump them on the bedspread with the others.
The impatient person outside my door knocks again, three more times.
"Coming," I holler as I race to the door and yank it open.
My heart skips a beat. Seriously, it does. I never thought anybody's heart really did that unless they had an arrhythmia, but mine does. A tingle of excitement sweeps over me from head to toe, awakening every hair on my body.
"Good morning," Richard Cornelius Hunter says.
I gape at him like an idiot. Why is he here? One night only, he said, but now he's standing at my door smiling in his hot British way. Last night, that same smile provoked me to strip naked and practically beg him to do me. Not that I feel like stripping right now. Well, maybe a little bit. He does look thoroughly lickable in khaki pants and a mint green polo shirt. When we met yesterday, he had a shadow beard. When I showed up at his suite, he'd shaved. Today, his morning stubble gives him that mysteriously sexy aura, so yeah, I absolutely do want to tear my clothes off and beg him to fuck me.
But I willnotdo that. No way. A pragmatic researcher does not do things like that.
The me who slept with this guy does not get a say in the matter.
"Are you all right?" he asks. He tugs at his shirt collar. "I shouldn't have come. You don't want to see me again, do you? Of course not. I told you it was a one-off, so—"
"Please stop babbling. It's cute, but you have no reason to be nervous." His nervousness is completely adorable and makes me want to throw my arms around him and kiss him, but statistically, there's no advantage to telling him so. "Why are you here, anyway? Not that I mind. I'm confused is all."
"I, ah…" He hunches his shoulders and gives me an almost shy smile. "I wanted to see you again. You're sweet and sexy, and the hours I spent with you were the best time I've had in years. I'm not ready for it to be over yet. I wondered if you might feel the same way."
"Yes, I do."
"Brilliant!" He almost shouts that word, grinning like a kid who won a giant bag of candy in a raffle. Though I know he's forty, thanks to my snooping, he's not acting like a mature man right now. "May I come in, then?"
"Oh sure, yeah." I move out of the way so he can walk inside the room. "I don't have a mega-suite like yours or the fantastic view you've got, but it's plenty comfy in here."
"I don't care what your room looks like." He glances around. "It's quite nice, actually."
"Thanks." Why am I thanking him like I own this room or something? I didn't decorate it. The niceness of my room is down to the resort owners and the staff who keep it clean and tidy. "Would you like to sit down?"
"Have you eaten breakfast yet?"
"Yeah, I have."
"Oh." He sighs, his shoulders flagging. "I think I will sit down, then."
We settle onto the small sofa—a love seat, really—with no more than six inches between us. He scratches his arm. I bite my lip. He opens his mouth like he wants to say something but shuts it. I tap my fingers on my leg.
"This is silly," I say. "We can talk to each other. We've done that before. It shouldn't be weird just because, um…"
"We had sex all night long?"
"Exactly."
He twists his lip to one side, then the other, while looking everywhere but at me. "Maybe sitting wasn't the right choice."
And he jumps up, shoving his hands in his pockets.
I get up too and set my hands on his chest. "Relax. I'm not about to declare I'm pregnant and demand you marry me. Let's go for a walk or something. If you haven't eaten, we could stop off at the buffet along the way. I wouldn't mind eating a little more papaya."
He aims his sapphire eyes at me. "I want more time with you, that's all. We don't need to have sex again unless you want that. I definitely want it, but I have no expectations."
