Page 84 of Revenge Honeymoon

Wait.

Wait, wait, wait.

Back up the train and return to the station.

What did he say? What in the goddamn hell did this beautiful man say?

“—and I...and you...and what?” Emily’s face heated as if she’d been sitting too close to the high school bonfire on Homecoming Weekend. Like Kiki the Cheerleader who’d shown up for the big game on Saturday night with a red face and a warning from her mother to never sit that close to a bonfire ever again.

Max kept his gaze down. “I was taking pictures of the pool deck like Sylvia asked me to do, and then my lens moved a little too far to the right. I saw a close-up of you in that swimsuit and my finger might’ve pressed down on the shutter button a little too long, and I took a bunch of pictures all at once. I mean, wow, Emily. What did you expect?” He shifted his gaze to her face. “I’ve never seen a woman look sexier in a swimsuit.”

Emily’s mind blanked as an explosion of epic proportions went off in every square inch of her gray matter. Maybe she wasn’t just some girl he could screw. Could he possibly have meant what he said earlier?

“God, you hate me, don’t you?” He took a deep breath. “It’s embarrassing I wanted to keep these photos. What kind of weirdo does that? I should’ve deleted them because why in the hell would I keep them?”

Emily couldn’t put two words together. For the first time in her life she had zero words in her head, zero ideas for how to respond, zero, zero, zero. All she could do was sit and stare.

He shook his head briefly. “I’ll delete the photos—the ones of you, the ones of Ruby. It was wrong. I knew it was then, but—” He climbed out of bed, leaned over her, and focused on the screen.

The smell of him was almost too much to bear. “Well, what?” Words had formed and come out of her mouth. Hallelujah, the Lord had healed her. Her nerve endings tingled. She was more aware of her body than ever in her life. The sensation of the T-shirt fabric against her breasts as her chest rose and fell with her breathing. The warmth between her thighs. The closeness of the naked male body next to her.

“There. Gone. They’re deleted.”

But somehow instead of feeling relief, a pain hit the back of her throat. Her plan had worked better than she’d imagined, yet she couldn’t look at him.

“I—I’ve got to go.”

“What?”

She grabbed her dress off the floor and tied it around her lower half like a skirt. “Thanks for last night. It was—” Perfect? The hottest night of her life? “—nice.”

“Nice?” Max’s brow wrinkled.

All in a rush, she grabbed her purse, opened the door, and dashed out into the hall. It was two in the morning, so not a honeymooning soul was in sight. As she waved her key card in front of her cabin door, hot tears flowed down her cheeks.

She’d made a mess of everything.

* * *

“Wake up, Emily!” Ruby shook her.

After she’d returned to her cabin, Emily had tossed and turned for an hour. Her body remembered everything in fine detail. Every touch, every kiss, every lick. Which made sleeping impossible. She’d had sex—incredible, mind-blowing sex—with Max, and it had all fallen apart in a matter of seconds.

Had she really told him it was ‘nice’?

Cringe.

Her eyelids were glued together, probably from the seven layers of mascara she’d piled on before her date last night. “What time is it?” she mumbled. Way too early. Horrifically early. So early only roosters and race walking retirees should be awake.

“It’s seven-thirty.” The mattress dipped as Ruby sat next to her. “You have to meet at eight for the ATV jungle adventure, so I thought you might like some time to get ready, maybe eat something?”

“Seven-thirty?” Emily sat up in bed and pried her eyes open. “Why did you let me sleep so late?”

“Your alarm went off an hour ago, but you didn’t move. I thought maybe you’d gotten home pretty late—” Ruby chewed a Mexican Coral fingernail. “Should I have made you get up? I was thinking about it.”

Emily threw back the covers, grabbed a pair of shorts and a shirt, and rushed into the teeny tiny bathroom to shower. “Give me five minutes.” She turned on the shower and took off the T-shirt she’d stolen from Max’s cabin. It smelled heavenly. Like man sweat and hibiscus-scented soap.

But that had been a mistake. The whole night had been a set up, and she’d achieved what she wanted: making the photos disappear.

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