“Yes,” she said. “The article will be appearing in Thursday’s paper. I want to thank you for your cooperation.”
The way she said that last part had him focusing on her mouth. He wanted to kiss it. Now. He’d been patient, but his self-control had started to ebb.
“No problem,” he murmured.
She shifted, seeming suddenly nervous. “Yes, everyone’s been very helpful.”
“Yeah.” He strove to stay focused. “I hope you got enough about nanotechnology and its application to quantum computing.”
She nodded. “I’ve got enough to know you’re on the verge of some real breakthroughs here.”
He nodded. “Yeah, it’ll be great when we finally succeed in making a portable supercomputer.”
He realized their conversation was becoming inane, but neither of them seemed able to stop talking. Suddenly struck with an idea, he said, “You know, the development team that just launched that new B-Smart PDA product on the market is going down to the Cayman Islands this coming weekend for a few days to celebrate at the firm’s expense.” At her raised eyebrows, he grinned. “Yeah, we treat our employees well. We have to. They’re highly skilled, and our competition is stiff.”
“Right,” she said, looking like she was wondering where he was going with this.
“You should come down with us. It’ll be a good postscript to the story you’re writing and—who knows?—you may even get another story out of it.”
He didn’t have to add what they were both thinking: now that her story was about to be written and filed, her time was up and the gloves were off. If she came down to the Caymans, there was a good chance they’d wind up sleeping together. Pushing his luck where she was concerned had served him well so far, so he figured the tactic had a decent chance of working now.
“I don’t know—”
“If it makes your journalistic soul feel better,” he cajoled, “we’ve overbooked plane tickets. It’d be no different than journalists riding along on Air Force One when writing about the President.”
She looked like she doubted it, so he changed tactics. “I’ve booked a hotel suite. It’s got two bedrooms and two baths.” He didn’t have to state the obvious: he wouldn’t pressure her to sleep with him, but if the opportunity arose…
“Traveling in style, huh?” she quipped.
He shrugged and said unapologetically, “One of the perks of the job.”
She paused, then said, “Okay.”
As he looked into her upturned face, her golden-brown eyes wide and limpid, he knew, as she did, that there was a wealth of meaning behind that “okay,” and he planned to explore every nuance of it.
Eight
The Cayman Islands. They’d arrived at the airport on Grand Cayman just after lunchtime, having taken an early morning flight. From the moment Kayla had stepped off the plane, it had been warmth, sunshine and fun wherever she looked. Fun in the sun with Noah Whittaker. She still couldn’t believe she’d agreed to come.
Noah had booked the penthouse hotel suite in one of the best island resorts, located right along the well-known Seven Mile Beach. The view from their hotel balcony was of endless ocean, which was bright and inviting in the daylight sun, and, Kayla supposed, dark and mysterious under the moon at night.
Looking down now at the bikini that she was wearing, she wondered whether it had seemed so small when she’d packed it—or whether it had just lost inches while airborne.
She spun in front of the mirror on the bathroom door. As she turned to the side, her gaze came to rest again on the king-size bed that dominated the hotel bedroom.
She’d known from the moment she’d accepted Noah’s invitation that they’d wind up there together.
Yet, he hadn’t pressured her. Instead, he’d taken over the other bedroom in the suite. But she knew, as surely as the sun rose in the morning, they would end up making love.
“Ready?” Noah called from the living room, causing her to jump a little.
She took a deep breath. “Just a minute.”
She put on a sarong-like wrap that matched the tropical colors of her bikini, then grabbed her beach bag off the bed.
As soon as she exited the bedroom, any insecurities she had were erased.
“Wow,” Noah said, taking her in with one glance.
Her laugh came out sounding nervous to her own ears. He was dressed only in swim trunks, and her pulse picked up.
His hands went to the sides of his head and moved it from side to side.
“What are you doing?”
He gave her a lopsided smile. “Wondering whether I’d come unglued.”
She giggled, relaxing a little, and, realizing that was probably what he intended, relaxed even more.
“Let’s go,” he said, holding out his hand.
She took it—felt her hand encompassed by his bigger, sturdier one—and let herself be tugged out the door.
That afternoon they strolled the beach, taking in the disappearing rays of the sun before eating at one of the finer restaurants on the island.
She loved the local Caribbean cuisine with its emphasis on vibrant seasonings and regional staples such as coconut, plantain and yam. She had mahi-mahi encrusted with herbs and spices and also sampled some of Noah’s beef tenderloin stuffed with lobster.
That night, exhausted from a long travel day, she fell onto her bed and was asleep before her head hit the pillow, saving her from making any awkward decision about sleeping with Noah.
The next morning, they woke early and Noah teased her about being out like a light the night before.
“What are we doing today?” she asked, dodging a direct reply to his comment as they ate breakfast at one of the resort’s outdoor restaurants.
“Whatever you want. I’m all yours.”
And that was what she was afraid of, she thought.
Still, she found herself having fun. In the morning, they went snorkeling in nearby reefs. Afterward, they took out a Wave Runner: she clung to his waist as the wind whipped her hair and they raced over the bluest water she’d ever seen.
She supposed she shouldn’t have been surprised Noah enjoyed being active: he had the toned and well-muscled body of an athlete. The only surprise was that he combined physical pursuits with the career of a computer geek and the social life of a playboy.
As the day progressed, she found herself dwelling again and again on the contradiction at the heart of Noah Whittaker. Certainly, she’d done him a disservice by focusing on one aspect of his life in her column. She was coming to realize he was a complex, multifaceted man with layers beneath his easygoing facade.