Page 63 of Mixing Temptation (Second Shot 3)

“Chad should be in a helicopter right about now.” Josh cocked his head and took another step. “Although I wouldn’t put it past him to keep calling just to annoy me.”

Ring! Ring!

“Katie?” she suggested.

“I talked to her when we landed. She’s fine and still pregnant.” He rose up his tiptoes and tried to peer over her shoulder. “Did you find a bikini? The hot tub on the patio is ready and waiting for us.”

She stepped back until her fingers brushed a row of bamboos stalks in a decorative vase by the villa’s front entrance. “No bikinis. But I might be willing to relax my rule about wearing swimsuits on our very private patio.”

Ring! Ring!

“Someone really wants to talk to us. It might be Noah or Dominic.”

“They can wait,” he said firmly. “I sent a text to the Big Buck’s group when we landed. They know you’re free and we’re taking a little vacation to celebrate. Noah will still have your job for you when you get back.”

“I owe him a month’s worth of shifts for covering the architect’s bill.” She twirled her present again. He’d slipped closer—­

Ring! Ring!

“Who else has this number?” she wondered aloud. “The front desk? Did they accidentally give us a bungalow reserved for someone else?”

He shook his head. “No. This one is all ours.” He glanced at the phone. In two long strides he was standing by the nightstand, bending over, and pulling the cables from the wall outlet.

“That’s better.”

She laughed. “But what if—­”

“It’s reporters, Caroline. The news about your release is spreading all over social media and TV.” He glanced down at his bare feet and placed his hands on his hips. “I talked to a lot of ­people after you turned yourself in. I couldn’t let them send you to prison. So I begged and I pleaded.”

“I know.” She closed the space between them and drew her hands around to her front. “That’s why I choose you.” She held out the single long-­stem red rose.

“I left the competition in the dust?” He placed his hands on her hips and held her right there in front of him.

She drew a deep breath and tried to hide her smile. “There was no competition.”

“Caroline,” he murmured, following her lead and abandoning playful.

And she fought the urge to laugh. Instead, she brushed the tip of the rose over his bare chest down to the top of his abs. The muscles contracted, showing off and inviting more contact. She drew the rose down, down, down . . .

“Caroline,” he growled.

“No competition,” she said, her words soft, gentle, and heartfelt. No more teasing. Apart from the wicked rose pressed against his towel, begging to slip below the covering . . .

“Because you were the only man willing to push past impossible,” she continued. “The one willing to wait until I trusted you.”

His chest rose and fell with quickening breath and his grip tightened on her hips. She drew the rose lower, over the white towel to the hard, thick ridge beneath.

“The only one,” she added, “willing to wait until I fell in love.”

DESIRE ROARED THROUGH him an

d Josh fought the urge to pull her down to the bed and get lost in the tangle of sheets. They had a week to tear up the sheets. Longer if the reporters kept hounding them. He would stay here as long as they needed. Now that he had her back, he wasn’t going to let her slip away again. If there were battles to fight, hurdles to cross, they would leap together.

And no more handcuffs. He released her hip and plucked the rose from her fingertips.

No more cuffs unless I put them on, he thought, amending his own edict.

But they could debate that rule—­and which date fit best for bondage—­later.

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