THE LANDLINE IN the private beachfront villa rang and rang. Caroline held her hands behind her back, twirling her final surprise between her fingers. The ringing stopped and she smiled, counted to five and . . .
Ring! Ring!
“Don’t answer that,” Josh advised from the bathroom’s arched doorway. He rested his forearm against the entryway and offered a wicked, too-tempting grin. One day in Hawaii and this man’s mouth was already driving her crazy.
Her gaze headed south. She followed the trail of red-gold hair down his taut abdomen, past the hard lines she’d explored with her mouth, tracing her way down until she’d slipped below the towel slung low around his hips.
Ring! Ring!
“What if it’s Brody? He might be calling to tell you that their adoption was approved.”
“It’s not. I spoke to my big brother earlier. No news about their little girl. But they’re confident it will come through soon.”
He lowered his arm and stepped into the room. A wooden platform bed with an elaborately carved headboard filled the space to his left. The white sheet formed a tangled mess in the center. Beyond the bed French doors led to a secluded patio.
And one very big, very private hot tub.
Ring! Ring!
“Maybe it’s Chad?” she murmured.
Josh shook his head and took another step, like a big, beautiful, red-haired lion stalking his prey. Her pulse sped up and she tightened her hold on her surprise.
“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 and 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.
“Thank you.” He raised the rose to his nose and pretended to take a long inhale. Peering over the top of the bud, he added, “You know what this means, don’t you?”
“A one-on-one date?” she teased.
He nodded and tried to look serious. But hell, he hadn’t been the solemn one in his family for a long damn time. And the woman who’d just handed him a rose knew it.
“Not just any date,” he said. “A hot tub date.”
He stepped back and took her hand. Then, still holding the rose in one hand, he grasped tight to hers and headed for the French doors.
“Time for some serious conversation,” she added.
“Very,” he agreed as he paused to toss the rose on the bed behind them. With his free hand, he pulled at the only thing covering his naked, eager body. His towel hit the floor and he opened the door. “How about I start while you undress?”
She let go of him and followed him out on the patio, pulling her shirt over her head as she walked.
“First, I’m going to start with your breasts. And I have a big decision to make. Should I press your tits together and dip my tongue between your breasts? Or—”
Her laughter drowned out his words and filled his heart.
“Save that conundrum for later? How about this.” He held out his hand. “Come here, Caroline, and let me love you.”