“I’ll get it later. Come on.” He palmed her back, helping her balance as finally, she wriggled her way upright.
She bobbled. Stifled a squeal. Then realized what was the worst that could happen? She would be in the water. Big deal. And suddenly the surfboard steadied a little, still rocking but not out of control. The waters lapped around her legs, cool, exciting.
“I did it.” She laughed, sending her voice out into that endlessness.
“Perfect. Now hold still,” he said and somehow slid effortlessly behind her.
Her balance went haywire again for a second, the horizon tilting until she was sure they would both topple over.
“Relax,” he said against her ear. “Out here, it’s not about fighting, it’s the one place you can totally let go.”
The one place he could let go? And suddenly she realized this was about more than getting her to relax. He was sharing something about himself with her. Even a man as driven and successful as himself needed a break from the demands of everyday life. Perhaps because of moments like these he kept it all together rather than letting the tension tighten until it snapped.
She fit herself against him, his legs behind hers as they drifted. Her muscles slowly melted until she leaned into him. The waves curled underneath, his chest wet and bristly against her skin. A new tension coiled inside her, deep in her belly. Her swimsuit suddenly felt too tight against her br**sts that swelled and yearned for the brush of the air and Tony’s mouth.
His palms rested on her thighs. His thumbs circled a light massage, close, so close. Water ebbed and flowed over her heated core, waves sweeping tantalizing caresses on her aching flesh. Her head sagged onto his shoulder.
With each undulation of the board, he rocked against her, stirring, growing harder until he pressed fully erect along her spine. Every roll of the board rubbing their bodies against each other had to be as torturous for him as it was for her. His hands moved higher on her legs, nearer to what she needed. Silently. Just as in tune with each other as when they’d been paddling out.
She worried at first that someone might see, but with their backs to the shore and water…she could lose herself in the moment. Already his breaths grew heavier against her ear, nearly as fast as her own.
They could both let go and find completion right here without ever moving. Simply feeling his arousal against her stirred Shannon to a bittersweet edge. And good God, that scared the hell out of her.
The wind chilled, and she recognized the sting of fear all too well. She’d thought she could ride the wave, so to speak, and just have an affair with Tony.
But this utter abandon, the loss of control, the way they were together, it was anything but simple, something she wasn’t sure she was ready to risk.
Scavenging every bit of her quickly dwindling willpower, she grabbed his wrists, moved his hands away…
And dived off the side of the board.
Nine
Tony propped his surfboard against a tree and turned to take Shannon’s. The wariness in her eyes frustrated the hell out of him. He could have sworn she was just as into the moment out there as he was—an amazing moment that had been seconds away from getting even better.
And then she’d vaulted off the board and into the water.Staying well clear of him, she’d said she was ready to return to shore. She hadn’t spoken another word since. Had he blown a whole week’s worth of working past her boundaries only to wreck it in one afternoon? Problem was, he still didn’t know what had set her off.
She stroked a smudge of sand from his faded yellow board. “Is it all right to leave them here so far from where we started?”
They’d drifted at least a mile from the SUV. “I’ll buy new ones. I’m a filthy rich prince, remember?”
Yeah, sexual frustration was making him a little cranky, and he suspected no amount of walking would take the edge off. Worse yet, she didn’t even rise to the bait of his crabby words full of reminders of why they’d broken up in the first place.
Fine. Who the hell knew what she needed?
He started west and she glided alongside him. The wind picked up, rustling the trees and sweeping a layer of sand around his ankles.
Shannon gasped.
“What?” Tony looked fast. “Did you step on something? Are you getting chilly?”
Shaking her head, she pointed toward the trees, branches and leaves sweeping apart to reveal the small stone chapel. “Why didn’t I notice that when we drove here?”
“We approached the beach from a different angle.”
“It’s gorgeous.” Her eyes were wide and curious.
“No need to look so surprised. I told you that we lived here 24/7. My father outfitted the island with everything we would need, from a small medical clinic to that church.” He took in the white stone church, mission bell over the front doors. It wasn’t large, but big enough to accommodate everyone here. His older brother had told him once it was the only thing on the island built to resemble a part of their old life.
“Were you an altar server?”
Her voice pulled him back to the present.
“With a short-lived tenure.” He glanced down at her, so damn glad she was talking to him again. “I couldn’t sit still and the priest frowned on an altar server bringing a bag of books and Legos to keep himself entertained during the service.”
“Legos?” She started walking again. “Really?”
“Every Sunday as I sat out in the congregation. I would have brought more, but the nanny confiscated my squirt gun.”
“Don’t be giving Kolby any ideas.” She elbowed him lightly, then as if realizing what she’d done, picked up her pace.
Hell no, he wasn’t losing ground that fast. “The nanny didn’t find my knife though.”
Her mouth dropped open. “You brought a knife to church?”
“I carved my initials under the pew. Wanna go see if they’re still there?”
She eyed the church, then shook her head. “What’s all this about today? The surfing and then stories about Legos?”
Why? He hadn’t stopped to consider the reasons, just acting on instinct to keep up with the crazy, out-of-control relationship with Shannon. But he didn’t do things without a reason.
His gut had pointed him in this direction because… “So that you remember there’s a man in here.” He thumped his chest. “As well as a filthy rich prince.”
But no matter what he said or how far he got from this place, the Medina heritage coursed through his veins. Regardless of how many times he changed his name or started over, he was still Antonio Medina. And Shannon had made it clear time and time again, she didn’t want that kind of life. Finally, he heard her.