Page 17 of The Cottage on Pelican Bay

“At night clubs?”

“Night clubs weren’t allowed.”

“Not even during offseason?” she asked.

“For a college player on scholarship, offseason only meant there weren’t any scheduled games. We still had practice sessions without coaches and trainers. Then there is mandatory study time. However, there were a lot of parties on campus that we could attend.”

Zara found what he’d said interesting. “I took dancing while growing up and I loved it. That prepared me for cheerleading in high school.”

“I heard you were very popular in high school and in your senior year you were Miss Catalina Cove High.”

She wondered who’d told him that, so she asked.

“Vaughn. He is a proud brother who would mention you on occasion. Of course at the time I hadn’t known his sister Zara was my Angel.”

His Angel. The way he’d said it made her feel things she didn’t want to feel. Made her remember things she didn’t want to remember. At least not now. But then how could she not remember that night when the man she’d shared it with was here with her? And she was just as attracted to him now as she had been then. Not wanting to think such thoughts, she surveyed the room. Several people were still on the dance floor enjoying the live band.

“What college did you attend?” he asked, breaking into her thoughts.

“Boston College. Then I moved to Paris to attend a fashion design school for my graduate degree.”

He took another sip of beer, and she watched as he placed the beer bottle to his mouth. She recalled just how delicious his lips had been that night and how much pleasure she’d gotten from his kisses. And she couldn’t help but recall the number of times that night they had kissed.

“Did you always know you wanted to be a fashion designer, Zara?”

“Not until high school. I assumed I would be an artist like my mom since I did a few paintings that even she thought were good.”

“When did you decide being an artist wasn’t your calling?”

Zara thought about that time. “The summer before my senior year of high school, and I’d made captain of the cheerleading squad. I designed our uniforms. I would have made them as well, but my parents considered a seamstress job beneath me and hired one. They figured that would be their contribution to what they considered my interest at the time.”

Her features lit up in a mischievous grin. “Little did they know that Ms. Juanita and I had worked out a plan. She let me help her sew the uniforms. On a lot of days when my parents thought I had stayed after school for study hall, I was at Ms. Juanita’s house helping her with the uniforms. That was our secret.”

“Mrs. Juanita Beckett?”

“Yes.” Zara wasn’t surprised he knew who she was talking about. The older woman had been Catalina Cove’s seamstress for years.

Saint placed his beer bottle on the table and extended his hand to her. “Ready to hit the dance floor again?”

It was a slow number, and she recalled the last one they’d danced to had left her entire body tingling with desire. When she placed her hand in his, she instantly felt her stomach curl in sexual excitement. From the look in his eyes, she knew he’d felt it, too.

Standing, she said jokingly, “I’m glad it’s a slow song. Not sure I have the energy to shake my booty right now.”

He laughed and the sound awakened every single nerve in her body. When they reached the dance floor, he placed his arms around her waist and swayed her into the dance. Body to body. She felt his hands’ languid, swirling strokes up and down her back. He was doing so with such tenderness she almost groaned. The muscular power of him surrounded her, and all kinds of sensations were swamping her.

During all the other slow dances, she had rested her face against his chest. For this one, she hooked her arms around his neck, which meant looking up into his face. She was drowning in him. It was a vivid repeat of the last time they’d shared space, heat and each other.

There was something about Saint that made her think that he actually was a saint. Or possibly from another world or period in time. All she did know was that two years ago on a night she would never forget, he had brought calmness to her turbulent and troubled world. Tonight he was indulging her by doing something she loved. Dancing.

It hadn’t taken her long to decide she liked dancing with him. She loved the way he held her body close to his. She was literally being consumed by the scent and feel of him. She wanted to break eye contact with him but couldn’t. At that moment need began overtaking her. Although she wished otherwise, that same need was tearing away at her common sense.

To save her sanity she shifted her gaze from his, determined to look anywhere but at him. All kinds of thoughts were going through her head and all of them were way too naughty. She’d never engaged in what she considered casual sex until him. Now their paths had unexpectedly crossed a second time and she wanted to share a bed with him again. She needed to share a bed with him. What was there about him that would make her want to indulge in a hookup? It was so unlike her.

But then, what was like her? She had believed in forever-after only to fall in love with a man who had betrayed her. So why bother? There was no way she would risk giving her heart to another man again.

At least she knew her intuition hadn’t been wrong about Saint that night. He was someone who was kind, thoughtful and considerate. That hadn’t changed. For him to bring her here showed what a terrific guy he was. Too bad his ex-girlfriend hadn’t appreciated that about him.

Another thing she noticed was, just like before, he was easy to talk to and they still connected on a number of levels. Because he’d gone through his own heartbreak, he was able to relate to hers. Not only that, he understood how it was to love someone deeply and then for that person to show you that they truly didn’t love you back.

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