Mac grinned. “Yep.”
“Sorry to point out the obvious, but we’re not going to see much because it’s dark,” Rory responded. “And you definitely can’t paddle with that arm.”
Mac scowled. “I know and I hate it. But that’s why you’re paddling and I’m riding shotgun.”
Rory looked at him, tall and built and strong. “Uh, Mac? I’m half your size.”
“It’s as flat as a mirror and it’s not far. You’ll be fine.”
“Okay...but why?”
Mac took her hand, lifted it to his mouth and placed a hot, openedmouthed kiss on her knuckles. It was an old-fashioned, sexy gesture and Rory felt her womb quiver. “Trust me,” he murmured, his eyes as deep a blue and as mysterious as the ocean beyond them. “It’ll be worth it.”
It was an intense moment, and Rory heard that sensible voice in her head. Whatever is between us is about sex, not romance. Don’t fall for it. Don’t expect hearts and flowers along with the heat. Disappointment always follows expectations.
She wouldn’t be seduced by the island and the sunset and the heat in Mac’s eyes. She would take this minute by minute, experience by experience, and she was not going to ruin it by letting her mind be seduced along with her body.
“Earth to Rory...?”
Rory saw Mac looking at her quizzically, waiting for a reply. What had he said?
“There are one or two other things I could think of that I’d rather do in the dark—” she gave Mac a mischievous look “—but what the hell. Okay.”
The corners of Mac’s lips kicked up and a laugh rumbled in the back of his throat.
“Funny girl,” he replied in his coated-with-sin voice as Marty pretended to ignore their banter. Dropping her hand, Mac took a step back and gestured to Marty. “Right. You’ll be here when we get back?”
“I’ll be here,” Marty promised. “You need life jackets but put on bug repellent first. And lots of it.”
Marty pulled out a container from his back pocket and handed it to Rory. “If you don’t slap it on everywhere, the mosquitoes will carry you away.”
Rory wrinkled her nose. Where on earth were they going? Knowing she would just have to wait and see, she rubbed the cream on her face, over her arms and down her legs. Then she pulled on a life jacket, tightened the clasps and went over to the double kayak.
She kicked off her shoes and pushed the kayak into the water before hopping into the seat. While she waited for Mac to get ready, she pulled her hair back from her face and secured it into a ponytail with the band she’d found in the back pocket of her cotton shorts. The stars were magnificent, she thought, a trillion fairy lights starting at the horizon and continuing ad infinitum.
She trailed her hand through the warm water, now impatient to get wherever they were going. Mac took the front seat after helping Marty push the kayak into deeper water, still looking irritated that he wasn’t paddling—the man hated relinquishing control. Within a couple of strokes Rory found her rhythm and she followed Mac’s directions across the small fisherman’s harbor to what seemed to be an entrance to a coastal reserve. Mac unerringly directed her toward a channel between huge mangrove trees. Only the light of his strong flashlight penetrated the darkness. It really was an easy paddle despite Mac’s bulk. She listened to the sounds coming from deep within the forest, birds and frogs, she presumed, as she navigated the low-hanging branches of a tree.
“Not far now.” Mac’s deep voice drifted past her ear as they leaned backward to skim under another branch. “Are you okay?”
“Sure.”
“Not scared?”
“Please.” She snorted her disdain. “I survived a life-threatening hurricane. Though I wouldn’t mind if I was the one lounging around while you did the work.”
“I wish I was. I feel like I’ve surrendered my man card,” Mac grumbled, but she heard the grin in his voice.
“I’ll reinstate it later,” Rory replied in her sultriest voice.
Mac laughed and she cursed as the bow of her kayak bounced off another branch. “Dammit. How far do we have left?”
“We’re almost there,” Mac replied as she moved backward and around the branch with the aid of the flashlight Mac held. Rory paddled for a minute more and then the channel opened and they entered a small bay. Mac told her to head for the middle of the bay.
When she stopped, she looked at the shadows of the mangrove forest that surrounded them. The moon hung heavy in the sky and the air caressed her skin. Gorgeous.
“Look at your oar, babe,” Mac softly told her. Rory glanced down and gasped with delight. Every paddle stroke left a starburst in the water, a bright streak of bioluminescence that was breathtakingly beautiful.