“There’s more to my fantasy than just having an adventure.” She licked her lips, trying to find the words. “Or, I guess I should say, I’m not here just for adventures you might find on the ESPN.”
“So you’re telling me that at least part of your fantasy leans toward The Playboy Channel.”
Her cheeks warmed and she realized she’d twisted her hands up in the towel she held on her lap. “I’m not sure about that. But R-rated, at least.” She couldn’t quite meet his eyes. Somehow talking about…well,that…with a man like Tony made her insides flutter even while the rest of her felt foolishly guilty.
“OnlyR?” His voice was light and teasing, and not the least bit judgmental.
“Maybe a touch X-rated.” She tried to meet his eyes head on, couldn’t, and ended up looking at her hands again. “I mean, I did come here for a fantasy, after all.”
“Yes, you did.” He moved from his chair to hers and sat next to her. Her breath caught, his nearness disconcerting. But, again, that was just the product of her overactive libido.
“You probably think I’m some sort of loose woman just looking to have a wild time on a tropical island,” she said.
“No. I don’t think that. But even if that were your fantasy, would that be so bad?” He leaned closer, and she realized she was holding her breath. “I mean, hedonismis a highly underrated hobby,” he whispered conspiratorially.
She put her hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. The man had a marvelous way of relaxing her. “Don’t make me laugh. I’m trying to be serious here.” She gave him a look of mock firmness, and he saluted briskly as he sat up straight again.
“Roger, that.” He took her hand and moved it to his lap. His fingers curled around hers, warm and safe. “Seriously, you want to tell me about it?”
That was the tough question. And what made it even tougher was that she knew the answer so resolutely. “I haven’t really told anybody all of it, not even my best friend.”
He squeezed her hand, and she wished she could draw on his strength. “No pressure. You just looked like you might want to talk. But if you—”
“No.” She turned to look him in the eye. “I mean, yes. Iwantto tell you. I don’t know why, but I do.”
“Just my boyish charm, I guess.” Immediately, he cringed. It was a bad joke, but he’d needed to cover. Just the fact that she felt compelled to share something so personal made him feel special, and he didn’t want to do or say the wrong thing.
“I don’t know how to say this without sounding sappy,” she said, then frowned, her brow furrowing. “The thing is, I don’t have that many friends. I guess I’m sort of a loner. My mom died when I was really little, and my family life is pretty intense. My workschedule is even crazier, and that doesn’t leave a lot of time for socializing.”
“I know what you mean.”
“Do you?” She gnawed on her lower lip, then reached up to tentatively trace her fingertip along the edge of his scar. He held his breath, sure she was repulsed. “You said you got this in your job?”
He nodded, but she’d already continued, not waiting for his answer.
“Anyway, what I’m trying to say is that…well…the friends I do have—theclosefriends, I mean, like me and Mona—we just sort of met and hit it off right away. Blam! Instant friendship.”
“Like love at first sight.”
She blushed, the very tops of her ears turning red. “Well, yeah, I guess you could think of it that way.” She turned to face him more directly, tucking her leg under her. “The thing is, I feel that way about you—friendship-wise, I mean,” she added hurriedly, even as his insides swelled.
She shrugged, just the tiniest motion of her shoulder. “So, do you think I sound like a sentimental idiot?”
“Not at all.” What he thought was that he could fall in love with her, and those were dangerous thoughts, indeed. “I feel the same way.” He squeezed her hand, wanting her to realize how much he meant it. “An instant connection.”
“It’s not at all like me. I’m the most organized person you’ll ever meet. Mona calls me anal. I have lists for everything. It’s funny that I’ve made all my closestfriends in an instant. Everything else I analyze down to the smallest little detail.” She laughed. “It’s pretty pathetic, but it’s worked for me so far.”
“And what is it that you analyze so carefully, Ms. Cartwright?” he asked, leaning back to get a better look at the way the afternoon sun glinted on her sweat-slick skin. His fingers itched to touch her, and he fought the urge. “What do you do when you’re not making friends on remote Florida islands?”
“My family owns a chain of radio stations in Texas. We have a syndicated show.” She told him a bit about the program and about the day-to-day aspects of her job.
“I know that program. An excellent show.”
“Thanks.” She looked around, almost distracted, then stood up. “Do you want to walk down to the water?”
“Sure.” He got up, resisting the urge to reach for her hand, and followed her to the surf. “Do you still want to tell me about your fantasy?”
“I’m getting there. I guess I just wanted you to realize…” She shrugged. “I mean, I know we hardly know each other, but—”
