Hawaiian Holiday: Destination Desire, Book 2 (6 page)

He’d been with women who would have been seriously pissed that he’d passed out on them. Twice, if he counted the post-sex pass out the night before. He hoped Julie had been sincere when she’d said not to worry about it. He liked her—maybe a little more than he should—and didn’t relish the idea of awkwardness between them. Then again, he didn’t enjoy hurting women’s feelings in general. One more reason to avoid serious entanglements with them—the longer he was around them, the more likely it was that things would blow up in his face.

He scrubbed a hand over his hair, pushing those thoughts away. There was only one certain way to find out if Julie was as nonchalant as she seemed. He threw back the covers and rolled to his feet. Caffeine was the first order of business. He set the coffeemaker in the room on to perk, brushed his teeth, and then went to the desk to find Julie’s number. After picking up his cell phone, he sent her a text.

I’m coherent now. Where would you like to meet for that swim?

Her response came back within ten seconds.
I’m lounging by the main pool
.

Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be there.
After he sent the final text, he set his phone aside and went into the bathroom.

Anticipation warmed his chest. The thought of Julie’s curves showcased by the thin material of a bathing suit was enough to have his body stirring with interest. He grabbed his swim trunks from where he’d left them hanging to dry over the shower rod the morning before. It took a few minutes to suck down the hot coffee, and then he was out the door in search of Julie.

When he found her, she was lying face down on a lounger with a towel draped around her. She had a Kindle in her hands and was so engrossed in what she was reading she didn’t notice his approach. Her knees bent and her feet lifted in the air, her toes curling and she grinned at something in her book. The bare length of her legs caught his attention and he vividly remembered them wrapped around his waist the night before. The memory was enough to have him salivating, and he had to swallow before he could speak.

“What are you reading?” There, that was a safe enough question, with nothing sexual to it. He’d rather not embarrass himself by walking around with an enormous erection. His shorts wouldn’t hide anything.

She jerked a bit, obviously startled, but then turned her head and grinned at him. “A filthy romance novel. It’s awesome.”

So much for a non-sexual question. Now he was wondering how many fantasies such a novel could give her, and how many of them he could help her fulfill in the next week.

Down boy
.

She licked her lower lip. “I bought it just before I left because it got a great review on
Smart Bitches, Trashy Books
.”

“
Smart
…uh, never mind. Don’t tell me.” He held up his hands, dropping onto the empty lounger next to her. “I’m glad you’re enjoying your book.”

Her eyebrows arched. “Well, what do
you
read for fun?”

“For this trip, I brought along the latest Wallander mystery from Henning Mankell. In German.” Definitely not the kind of book to fuel sexual fantasies, but it was his favorite genre. A nice release from the more technical reading for his research.

She pursed her lips. “Mystery, huh?”

“Yes.” He shrugged. “It’s an amazing series with themes that really speak to some of the problems in Europe. Immigration from former colonies, and a resulting increase in crime, but also intolerance and racism.”

“Sounds pretty dark.”

“But realistic. I like that about the books.”

She waved her Kindle in the air. “I like my books with happy endings. It’s a nice break from reality, which I can get a nasty dose of by turning on the news.”

Nodding, he conceded the point. “I can see the appeal in that. I like my mysteries, even if they are less rosy.”

“The bad guys still get caught,” she pointed out. “So that’s still kind of a happy ending.”

“
Happy
is a bit of a stretch.” He propped his foot on his lounger and draped his forearm over his bent knee. “But I enjoy it anyway.”

“Where is the series set in Germany?” She tilted a shoulder forward, and the towel covering slipped down to reveal a bit of her smooth back. “I imagine it gives you a nice dose of home.”

“It’s set in Sweden, actually. I just read the German translations.”

“Oh, like those
Girl with the Dragon Tattoo
books. They’re Swedish too.” She turned on her side to face him, and he regretted that the towel moved with her and he didn’t get to see what kind of bathing suit she was wearing.

He forced his focus to her face. Books. They were having a very pleasant discussion about books, not the fact that he liked to have sex in the morning. Or what her favorite position was. Or whether her room was closer than his and how quickly they could get to one of them. He cleared his throat. “Yes, I read that series. Sweden has produced some great crime novelists. Denmark too, actually.”

Making a mock-concerned face, she said, “Scandinavians suddenly sound like a creepier and more sinister bunch than I thought.”

He laughed. “Not really. Most Scandinavian countries I’ve visited are very safe.”

Her brow scrunched. “So they make up crime fiction since they don’t have any in real life?”

“Something like that.” He let his foot drop to the floor. “So, what do you have planned for your week here? Other than a sea swim with me.”

He shouldn’t ask. That kind of question invited someone to think he might be interested joining in on those plans, which he shouldn’t be. But he was. He didn’t bother lying to himself about it. He blew out a breath. Okay, so this island affair might be a little more involved than the occasional dinner and mindless sex whenever they weren’t otherwise occupied. Not what he’d thought at first, but he could adjust. He didn’t want this interlude to end. Being around her was too sweet to give it up just yet.

Her mouth formed a thoughtful moue. “Well, I wanted to take it easy the first twenty-four hours. I don’t have anything solid on the agenda until tomorrow.”

“What’s tomorrow?”

She propped her head in her palm. “Pearl Harbor.”

“Ah, the classic.” If it was her first trip, it was an obvious choice. He’d made that pilgrimage his first time too.

“Exactly.” She wagged a finger at him.

He thought twice before he opened his mouth, but then he said, “If it sounds appealing, you could join me today. I was thinking about catching a bus to go downtown. The Iolani Palace is there and I’ve never been.”

“Oooh, so you’d be a virginal tourist like me, huh?” She waggled her eyebrows.

He chuckled. “Care to lose your virginity with me?”

She widened her eyes. “It has to be better than the ping pong table in my neighbor’s basement where I really lost my virginity.”

A loud guffaw broke from him and he shook his head. “Any response I can think of to that is just highly inappropriate. Want to go for that swim now?”

“I would, actually.” She winked. Tossing the towel aside, she stood.

When he got a good look at what she was wearing, his jaw sagged. He gave her a more thorough and appreciative examination. Her hair was pulled into two short ponytails behind each ear, which made her look like a teenager. But that wasn’t what caught his attention. He waved a hand at her swimsuit. “What is this?”

 
“A crochet bikini.” She ran a finger along the tie at one hip. “I designed the pattern for it over a year ago, but didn’t have a reason to wear it until now.”

Slender crisscrossing strands formed tantalizing patterns that shaped around her breasts on top and over her ass and between her legs on the bottom. The whole thing was held together by braded cords that fastened at each hip and behind her neck. The cut wasn’t immodest, but it fit her every curve to perfection, and there was something about the material—as if it was so delicate it might tear away at any moment. He couldn’t take his eyes off it, hoping for that fateful moment.

He licked his lips. “You
made
this?”

“Well, yeah.” She shrugged. “What did you think a fiber artist did?”

“I had no idea.” He reached out to slide his thumb along the same tie, dropping his voice to a low timbre. “But I’m in favor of any profession that creates something this sinful.”

She flushed. “Thank you. I think.”

“So tell me what a fiber artist does.” He slipped an arm around her waist and guided her toward the water’s edge.

“Well, first and foremost, I run a fiber arts store.” She tucked a lock of escaped hair behind her ear. “Actually, since Aunt Eloise died, I guess I own
and
run a fiber arts store. It’s a business, like any other.”

“A successful business, I’m guessing.” Especially if she sold confections like the one she was wearing. Every woman on the planet should have one.

She shrugged modestly. “Purl Moon has done pretty well, even in the crappy economy. I took the business online in the last year, so we get orders from all over the world now. That’s helped boost our profit margin.”

“You still haven’t answered my question. What exactly does a fiber artist do?” He kissed the side of her neck, just above the tie, and a shiver coursed through her.

“Okay, the simplest explanation is: I get raw fibers from different kinds of sheep, goats, and even rabbits.” She lifted a finger. “Oh, and some plants too, like bamboo. I dye them by hand and spin them into yarn that I can sell or use to knit, crochet, felt or tat into products I can wear, give as gifts, display as samples, or sell to customers. That’s generally what a fiber artist does.” She tipped her head, eyebrows scrunching. “But I also buy and sell a lot of yarns that I don’t make myself. And I teach classes on how to do all of those things—spin, knit, crochet, etcetera.”

He blinked. “Impressive.”

“Thanks.” She dimpled. “This bikini is made of cotton, so it doesn’t get as waterlogged or stretchy as other fibers, which means you can actually swim in it, rather than just sunbathe.” She gave him a look. “Or pose for a gentleman’s viewing pleasure.”

“It is a pleasure, indeed. You’re right about that.” If he didn’t stop staring at her soon, his cock would be straining the confines of his trunks in very visible ways. “Let’s test the swimability of your creation.”

Maybe by the time they got out of the water, he’d have calmed down a bit. It was a pretty futile hope with this woman nearby, but he didn’t have much choice. The water closed around him, feeling far too cold against his heated skin. It would only take a few minutes to adjust, fortunately, because he shuddered at the first submersion.

It wasn’t until he was waist-deep that he realized any fear he’d had about her being uptight over the passing-out-on-her incidents had dissipated. Being around her was…easy. Fun. He couldn’t remember the last time he could say that about any woman he had a romantic interest in. His past experiences had left him jaded and wary, but Julie was
nice
, for lack of a better word. She made him laugh. He didn’t know what that would mean, in the end, but if things kept going the way they were, it was going to be an unforgettable holiday.

“Brr.” Julie shivered as she waded into the water next to Lukas, crossing her arms over her chest. Which covered her puckered nipples, thank God. The moment he’d looked at her bikini, fire had licked through her veins. She was honest enough to know she’d chosen to wear this suit because she’d hoped he’d have exactly that kind of reaction. A woman liked to be appreciated, but she’d underestimated her body’s response to the lust that had molded his sensuous features. The shock of ocean water was probably the best thing for her, or she might have jumped him right there on the lounger. The hotel probably looked unfavorably on that kind of public indecency. She rubbed her hands up and down her biceps, battling the goose bumps. “Okay, definitely warmer than California waters, but still chilly.”

“Moving helps.” He kicked off, heading toward a pier made of piled volcanic rocks. He glanced back with a little grin. “Coming?”

The low growl to the word made it sound far more like a sexual invitation than it should have, but that might just be her own lascivious thoughts giving it the prurient twist. “Right behind you.”

The waves lapped around her shoulders and face, but the exercise dispelled the cold. Julie kept pace with him until they drew up at a reef that curved past the end of the pier. It seemed to be more volcanic rock than reef, but there were definitely plants growing in it and she could see a few small fish whipping through the clear water below her. She wished she had a snorkel and mask so she could see more.

She pressed her hands to the top of the reef, steadying herself as a wave washed over it.

“At low tide, the reef is barely covered by water and people can walk on top of it. They usually just hop down from there.” Lukas gestured to the pier. “I’ve never tried it since it looks rough on the feet, but the kids who come out seem to love it.”

“The water is so clear, even this far away from shore. It’s almost gray in Half Moon Bay.” Julie swept her arm through the waves to demonstrate her point.

 
“And much nicer to swim in than the Baltic, which is where we vacationed when I was a child.”

The next wave came in a little rougher than the last, and pushed her toward the shore. He caught her around the waist and towed her into his embrace. A little hum of pleasure escaped her and she hooked an arm behind his neck, pressing her front to his chest. This was where she’d wanted to be since the moment she’d woken beside him this morning. Back in his arms. He glanced down, and she was betting he got an eyeful of her cleavage. The heat in his gaze made it clear he liked what he saw.