Still, his go-go-go attitude soon had her calling him “Action Man,” and teasingly asking whether he ever slept.
His response was to quirk a brow and joke, “According to your column, I spend most of my time in bed.”
In response, she’d flushed and resolved not to give him another opening that led into dangerous territory.
Yet, despite having fun, she did find herself thinking back at a point or two during the day to what Ed had said about an illicit offshore company in the Cayman Islands possibly connected to Noah.
Of course, she’d come across no evidence of a connection, and the more she knew Noah, the more she believed a connection to be unlikely. Still, her mind skittered to the fact that she was in the Caymans, and if such a connection were to be found, now was the time to try to find it.
At the same time, she knew that finding out anything wouldn’t be easy. Given how much secrecy was permitted to companies incorporated in the Caymans, she doubted she could get much information—at least without going down to the government records office herself and attempting to bribe, cajole or lie her way toward gaining access to information. And that would also entail lying to Noah so she could sneak away for a while.
No, she didn’t have much of a shot. And, then again, there didn’t seem much reason to try: Noah had given her a fantastic news story about Whittaker Enterprises. He’d lived up to his end of the bargain. With any luck, that story alone would shoot her career to a whole new level.
She should be relaxing and letting herself bask in the attention of a good-looking guy—just as Samantha had suggested. And, if she were honest with herself, she’d admit Noah was the most fascinating man she’d ever met. She was, in fact, having trouble keeping her hands off him, particularly since, for most of the day, he was dressed in nothing more than his swim trunks.
In the afternoon, they went scuba diving, jumping into the water from the back of a diving boat. They swam together and Noah waved to her, pointing out dazzlingly colored local fish, some swimming in schools. He’d brought along an underwater camera and snapped her picture.
Posing for a photo, she realized with some surprise that, over the past weeks, she’d become immersed in Noah’s world and she kind of liked it. It really wasn’t as bad as she’d built it up to be.
As their scuba boat approached shore, Noah glanced down at Kayla again. Even in a wet suit, with her hair plastered to her head, she looked great.
He’d done his best to keep his hands off her during their time in the Caymans so far, not wanting to pressure her. Still, he was experiencing an odd, stir-crazy sensation that was increasing as evening approached.
Yet, while he was going mad with lust, she’d given him no sign that she was feeling similarly…pent up.
When they got back to shore, he asked, “What would you like to do with the rest of the day?”
He prayed she would say something energetic like parasailing, anything to take the edge off his mounting sexual frustration.
“What?” she asked in mock surprise. “No plans for windsurfing or waterskiing? There’ve got to be plenty of sports that we haven’t tried yet.”
Yeah, and he could name one that involved a bed, no clothing and plenty of sweaty exertion. Aloud, he said, “Nope. What do you want to do?”
He figured there was practically no chance she’d read his mind and exclaim, Excellent! Just what I was thinking. Off to bed we go.
She seemed to consider him, and he wondered for a second whether he’d spoken out loud or she’d picked up something in his expression.
She glanced away. “Hmm.”
Was it his fevered imagination or did she seem uncomfortable?
She looked up at him. “Let’s go into George Town and take in the shops.”
“Great.” He figured he did a passable job of looking enthusiastic about window shopping.
When they got into the convertible that he’d rented at the airport on their arrival, he took the wheel for the short drive to George Town.
Stopped at an intersection, he glanced over at Kayla. She’d been quiet—subdued even—yet tense during the drive so far and, actually, since they’d gotten back from their scuba dive.
Puzzled, and because he was short on patience, he asked bluntly, “What?”
“I want to make love with you,” she blurted, then clamped her mouth shut. She looked horrified at the words that had just come tumbling out of her mouth.
Noah felt as if he’d been hit over the head with a sledgehammer. Still, he struggled to appear casual…as if he hadn’t been thirsting for this moment…as if, with parched throat, he hadn’t just arrived at an oasis in the desert.
Then another thought intruded, and he groaned as he leaned forward and rested his forehead against the steering wheel.
“What?” she asked, sounding startled by his reaction.
“You just realized?” he said, his voice coming muffled to his own ears. “What about five minutes ago? When we were at the hotel and three steps away from a private room?”
She said nothing, and he sat up and hit the gas, turning right.
“What are you doing?”
“Making an illegal U-turn,” he said. “Keep an eye out for the police.”
A laugh escaped her.
Well, he thought, at least the tension between them had been broken. Now, if only he could get to the hotel room before the last of his self-control dissolved: her admission that she wanted him had already sent it plunging like a runaway elevator.
Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed she was tugging at the neckline of her top and the bikini beneath.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, then he tossed her a wicked smile. “You know, I’d love for you to start stripping, but the island has a public-decency ordinance.”
She gave an exasperated sigh. “Be serious! I’m just adjusting my bikini. The cups on this one sometimes shift out of place.”
“That’s right, talk dirty to me.”
She laughed. “Hurry.”
“What do you think I’m doing?” he asked with mock impatience.
Kayla was amazed at how aware she was of him. If she weren’t feeling so desperate, she would have laughed.
Noah had looked thunderstruck at her blurted words. His unguarded reaction had erased any doubts about the response that her declaration would get.
Since their arrival in the Caymans, she’d been waiting for him to make a move, at moments so needy for him that she wanted to scream. Could she be blamed for coming out and saying what she wanted?