His touch is warm and gentle, and my stupid head runs on with the sentence.Unless of course, it’s me. A tingle idles down my spine, and my skin pops a spread of goosebumps.Oh mygawd. He’s sitting so close, I can feel his body’s warmth. I can smell his intoxicating male scent, the same from that night so long ago, but breathing him in makes it feel like it happened yesterday.
“You’re cold?” Tristan asks, but he must know better because his gaze travels over my face where a heady blush blooms at the thought of his lips and teeth on my skin. His hand on my breast. His thumb grazing my nipple.
“No.” I suck on my lip, forcing my mind back to neutral.
“Good.” He finishes his coffee and lets the mug dangle from his fingers. “Here’s what we’re going to do. See if you can get an extra mosquito net from housekeeping. I’ll make a plan to put it up somehow. I’ll dig in the maintenance area for tools.”
“Okay.”
He stands and holds out his hand to pull me up. I place my hand in his, the ultimate gesture of trust. As I rise, his gaze, which for one long second holds my own, dips down to my breasts in this stupid tank top that leaves little to the imagination. I’m not exactly in a wet T-shirt contest, but you’ll have a hard time missing my nipples, which seem to play a dirty game of treason here.
My mind is trying its best to find a way out of this Don’t Perve Over Tristan escape room, but my body just wants to stay put and play.With him.
Chapter Fifteen
TRISTAN
It’s just after seven now, and Lexi has left to meet with Miriam. I didn’t mean to be curt to her earlier, but I’m not sure she was even aware of my mood this morning. I’m still exhausted. Long-haul flights, jet lag, and the crowning glory of feeding every last fucking bug on this island last night got the better of me. I might have to work in a nap at some point today to get back to my usual even keel—a nap that preferably happens on the bed and not on an uncomfortable sofa that gives a boat bunkbed a run for its money.
Poor Lexi. She had a hard time hiding her chagrin—it was almost comical. If she thinks I’ll serve her up to the mosquitoes, she doesn’t really know me. And that thought itches more than all the bug bites combined.
The thought of her and those innocent—my ass—girly PJs she slept in only makes me groan. When I came home last night, she was fast asleep. I couldn’t stop my gaze from running over every part of her as I got ready for bed, mapping out the parts I touched once. I won’t fuck it up like that again. My temper’s short for more than one reason, but today of all days, I can’t letit show. There’s only one way I’m going to survive these three months—by not looking at her at all, which is impossible. I’m going to figure out a plan B here.
All showered, I’m digging through every last long-lost emergency kit squished in my general diving bag, but the best I have are some antihistamines. They should take the edge off. Dressed in board shorts and a T-shirt, I heave my diving bag over my shoulder and it digs in, rubbing the bite that’s been driving me nuts since four this morning. Ugh…ahhh. The relief!
I walk over to the general guest area, but there’s no sign of Lexi. Only some waiters are milling about, setting up the breakfast buffet. I recognize our waiter from last night, and he smiles at me.
“Don said to point you to the staff canteen first so you can have breakfast,” he says, and I follow him to the kitchen and around the back. Quiet chatter comes from a dining area where several uniformed staff are either eating or finishing up their coffees. I spot Don and walk over to him.
“Wow. What happened to you?” he asks as his gaze plots the constellation of bites on my face.
“Fell asleep on the sofa.”
“Whoa-whoa-whoa.” Don shakes his head. “And Lexi didn’t come wake you up to call you to bed?”
“She was out stone cold before me. With the jet lag, it sort of happened before we noticed.” At least on a boat if you’re grumpy as fuck everybody else is delighted that you’re leaving them alone. Here there seems to be no escape.
“You should be careful,” he warns. “We don’t officially have any malaria or dengue fever on the island…” He lowers his voice. “But that’s because everybody who comes here travels via the mainland and can pick it up there. We’ve never had guests report that they got sick after a stay with us, but don’t do somethingirresponsible like that again, okay? Get under the net at night and stay there.”
Right. Between Don’s age and word choice, I feel as if I’ve been reprimanded by the school principal. “I hear you.”
“Do you have anything for the bites? Ointment?”
“No, it’ll be okay. Nothing like seawater to cure an itch or two.”
Don harrumphs. “That fiancée of yours should take better care of you.”
Irritation grates through me—to imply that a woman shouldmotherme when I’ve functioned without one since I wasten. Fuck. Lexi would spit fire at Don’s suggestion.
I hold back an acerbic retort, and luckily, Don is quick to move on with a rush of staff introductions. I nod at everybody. Roger and Mike are here too, and although Mike smiles at me while chewing, Roger gives me that glare. They’ve listened in on Don’s reprimand, and Roger’s eyes tell me everything I don’t need to know. He thinks I’m an idiot.
I grab a fresh roll and some cold cuts and cheese, stack it all together, down a glass of orange juice, and nod to Don. “Let’s go.”
“That’s all you’re eating?” Don asks as I heave my bag over my shoulder again.
“I don’t dive on a full stomach.”
With a nod, he leads the way to the dive center.
