Page 19 of Gentle Persuasion

It was better than she’d imagined. His lips were cool and firm, softening and warming as she opened to him. His hands made tentative forays across her shoulders, then moved back up her neck and threaded the tangled curls around her face.

He shuddered and groaned as her arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him close…too close…not close enough.

Moonlight sliced a thin, silver path across the water, blinding in its intensity, but neither saw it. They were too lost in the feel of being in each other’s arms.

And then suddenly Cole couldn’t get close enough. He took them to their knees. His hands moved beneath her shirt and around behind her back.

The catch on her red bikini top came undone, and she spilled into his palms with a thrust, yearning to alleviate the pulsing pressure he’d created.

The soft tips went flat against his hands and then, as if they had a life of their own, hardened and pushed against him, reminding him that he’d started something that was aching to be finished.

With no thought of their proximity to the other guests, he laid her beneath him, stretched out above her, and then branded himself with her heat. She was soft. All movement and enticing depths that he wanted to explore. She would let him. Of that, he was certain. Could he let himself? Of that, he was unsure.

The sand made a place for her, generously shifting to allow her room—room for her body and the man above her. Below the surface, it was still warm from the heat of the day. Debbie sighed and lifted her arms, pulling Cole down until there was no room for breath between them. She heard his soft groan and felt his need as his mouth plundered past the neckline of the sweat shirt. His hands slid up, and then his hands slid down. And Debbie lifted herself to meet them.

“Jesus!” Whether he’d said it as a prayer or an oath, he was uncertain. But nevertheless, Cole rolled off Debbie and sat up, burying his face in his hands as he desperately tried to regain control of what he’d nearly lost. His sanity.

“My God!” he muttered, remembering that he’d left her behind, and scooped her from the sand. He sandwiched her between his knees, fitting her backside to his lap as he tried to get himself in order. “Debbie…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”

“For Pete’s sake,” she mumbled, as his chin nestled in the curls atop her head, “if you ever expect me to speak to you again, at least don’t apologize.”

He shuddered, wrapped her tightly in his arms, and wondered if he could ever let her go. He rocked them in the darkness.

The moon’s silver path on the water beckoned, enticing by its mere presence, promising something intangible if one were courageous enough to chance it.

Both stared, lost in the lure of the night, and knew that if they were only brave enough to walk on water, magic awaited. But neither moved.

***

The drive home was long; Debbie, strangely silent. It was so unlike her, Cole was uneasy. He couldn’t tell whether he’d angered her by initiating the kiss or by stopping just beyond. Either way, she was quiet and he was nervous.

But tonight, he’d realized something. For the first time in his entire life, he was considering the possibility of ending his life as a bachelor. For the first time, he let himself contemplate what it would be like to share his life with another. It would mean that his peace of mind, his sanity, his well-being would not depend entirely upon himself. It would revolve around another person and her happiness and her well-being and peace of mind. It would mean that Cole was not in control. It scared the hell out of him.

“We’re home,” Debbie said quietly.

It startled him.

She spoke again. “I’ll get the bag. You get the rest of the stuff. Just dump the entire mess in the back room, okay? I’ll go through it all tomorrow. I’m too tired to deal with it now.”

He parked, opened the door, and started around to help her out. But she beat him to it and let herself out of the car. He sighed with frustration, turned, and headed for the back door, key in hand.

She walked past him, into the shadowy depths of the house, homing in on the hall light shining through the kitchen, guiding the way toward their rooms.

“Debbie?”

His voice caught and held her in place. Finally she turned and answered. He was impossible to ignore. “What?”

“Are you all right?”

She shrugged in the darkness, but he still saw…or sensed the motion. “Of course.”

“Then…where are you going in such a hurry? I thought you might want something to drink…maybe unwind…”

“I’m going to take a shower,” she said quietly. “I need to wash the sand out of my hair.”

It left him speechless. Memories of her beneath him in the sand, and her body soft and inviting, made him instantly hard and aching. She walked away, and he let her.

It was only much later when Debbie lay sleepless, staring out at the moonlight teasing the folds of the curtain at her windows, that she remembered she hadn’t told Cole she’d seen the mugger’s face.

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