Chapter Two

“Um,

no,

you’re

welcome

to

sit

anywhere

you’d

like.

It’s

a

rather

large

beach,

plenty

of

room

for

everyone.”

Great,

she

scolded

herself

again. If

he

wasn’t

already

amused

at

her

inept

attempt

of

verbal

communication,

now

he

undoubtedly

would

be.

She

sounded

like

a

babbling

idiot.

“American?”

he

asked,

his

smile was dazzling, and it made her heart leap in her chest.

“Yeah,

that’s

right.

Is

there

a

problem

with

that?”

Sandra

frowned

under

her

Ray-Bans, knowing she sounded insulted, but couldn’t prevent the irritation from trickling through her words.

“No,

not

at

all. So,

what

brings

you

so

far

from

home?”

“Why

does

anyone

visit

France? You

know,

vacation,

sun,

relaxation,

that

sort

of

thing.”

“Many

visit

for

other

reasons

as

well. Business,

romantic

holidays,

honeymoons.”

“Well

I’m

not

here

for

any

of

that.”

She

tried not to sound as nervous as she felt as the

heat

rose

all

the way

up

to

her

hair

clip.

He

smiled,

handing

her

the

drink

that

sat

on

the

table

and

reached

for

his own glass

of

something

pink,

icy

and

with

a

tiny

rainbow-colored

umbrella.

“Then

may

I

make

a

toast?

Here’s

to

new

friendships,

Miss…”

he

began

and

for

a

moment

she was transfixed and frozen in her seat by his dazzling smile. Her breath catching, her pulse thrumming in her ears.

He

cleared

his

throat

softly,

her

cue

to

finish

his

sentence.

“Oh,

Dennis…I’m

Sandra

Dennis,”

she

answered,

touching

glasses

briefly

before

tipping

her

now

warm

iced tea to

her

lips.

She

swallowed

such

a

large

gulp

of

the

amber

liquid,

that

it

felt

like

a

rock

sliding

down

her

esophagus.

She

grimaced

at

the

sensation

and

pain

as

the

liquid

slowly

filtered

past

her

heart

and

into

her

stomach.

“Are

you

all

right?”

His intoxicating smile was replaced with a concerned frown as he watched her.

All

she

could

do

was

nod,

unable

to

speak

at

that

exact

moment.

“Fine,”

she

whispered a few moments later, then cleared her throat.

“Well, it’s

been

nice

meeting

you,

but

I

have

to

leave

now.”

Go

quickly,

she

thought, remembering

her

Kindle

and

bending

over

the

edge

of

the

chair

to

retrieve

it.  She stood up on legs that suddenly felt like rubber bands, retrieving

her

towel

from

the

lounge

chair and

tossing

it

across

her

shoulder. She kept her eyes diverted as she worked, knowing she couldn’t afford to chance another look at him, certain she would combust in flames if she did. She took her

iPod

and

Kindle

in

one

hand,

her

tea

in

the

other and walked between the chairs in an attempt to leave.

“Are

you

staying

here

at

the

hotel?”

She

turned when he

stood

up

from

the

lounge

chair, her mouth falling slightly open, her

breath

catching

in

her

throat

at

the

sight

of

him. His

midnight

blue

and

white

swim

trunks

hugged

his

hips snuggly, his

arms

thick

and

muscular,

his

chest

broad

with

a

thin

layer

of

dark

hair

that

trailed

down

his

abdomen

in

a

thin

line,

disappearing

beneath

his

swim

trunks.

It

was

obvious

he

worked

out,

though

he

was

far

from

being

Arnold

Schwarzenegger.

He

was

much

taller

than

she

would

have

expected,

seeing

him

reclined

on

the

lounge

chair. In

fact,

he

was

a

good

half

foot

above

her

five

feet

six

inches,

and

she

found

herself

having

to

look

up

to

see

his

face.

“Yes,

yes,

I

am,

right

there.”

Shut

up,

Sandra, she

shouted

to

herself, feeling like a babbling child as a strange chill traveled down her spine, gripping her lower abdomen again.

“Maybe

we’ll

see

each

other

again,”

he

suggested

with

another

smile

that

seemed

to

melt

her

like butter

in

the

Mediterranean

sun.

“Um,

sure,”

she

said absently as

a

very

attractive

waitress

stepped

up

beside

him.

“Perhaps

this

afternoon?”

he

asked,

glancing

briefly

to

the

server

as

she

set

another

drink

on

the

table.

Sandra looked at the waitress, feeling a strange sense of irritation at her intrusion, her eyes traveling across the string

bikini that

barely

hid the woman’s engorged

breasts

from

sight. Her

short blonde hair, spiked around her head, seemed

to

glimmer

in

the

sunlight

as

she

placed the empty

glasses

on

the

small

round

tray

she

held. Sandra watched her absently as

she

straightened

up

waiting

for

Creighton

to

acknowledge

her. The

look

in

her

bright

blue

eyes

told

Sandra

she

was

eager

to

have

the

man’s

full

attention and

was

waiting

for

her

to

leave.

“I’m

sorry,” Sandra said at last, realizing he was still speaking to her. “I

have

plans. Some

other

time

perhaps.”

She

turned

and

walked

away,

thankful

for

the

increased

exercising

that

made

her

bottom

firm

and

tight.

She

added

a

slight

wiggle

to

her

walk

as

she

left,

knowing

he

was

watching

her

departure,

hoping

the

waitress

knew where his attention was as well.

Four

o’clock

arrived

to

find

Sandra

sitting

with

a

small

group

of

tourists

on

the

docks,

all

getting

the

same

lecture

about

scuba

diving

safety

and

protocol.

Over

the

past

two

hours,

they

had

watched

an

instructional

video,

tried

out

masks

and

tanks,

practiced

diving in

the

hotel’s

swimming

pool,

signed

waivers

and

had

been

fitted

for

flippers and masks.

The

butterflies

in

her

stomach

began

to

turn

into

fruit

bats

as

their

instructor

finished

speaking,

then

led

them

down

the

peer,

their

flipper-feet

flapping

against

the

wooden

planks

as

they

made

their

way

toward

the

waiting

boat.

She

always

wanted

to

try

scuba

diving,

but

until

that

morning,

she

never

had

the

courage

to

do

it.

If

it

wasn’t

for

the

insistence

of

the

young

man

who

played

the

role

of

entertainment

director

of

the

hotel,

she

would

not

have

considered

signing

up

for

the

lesson at all,

but

then

again,

wasn’t

that

the

whole

idea

of

this

trip…adventure?