"Oh yes, I want that too."
He feathers his lips over mine, not quite a kiss. "I'm not ready to say goodbye yet. Are you?"
"No, I'm not either."
"I have something I need to take care of first, but I'd love to spend the night with you. Would you come to Room 409 at eight o'clock?"
"Sure."
"Tonight, I'll do better than just a kiss," he murmurs while his lips graze mine. "I want to make love to you all night."
Holy heaven, that sounds amazing. I shouldn't want to do it, but like I discovered earlier when I'd first seen this man, he short-circuits all my common-sense pathways.
"I'd love to do that," I tell him. The rational side of my brain insists I should've told him no, but I don't want to do that. For the first time ever, I'll go for what feels good, no matter how irrational it is. "I'll see you at eight."
He takes my hand and leads me away. We say goodbye on the path that connects the main beach to the resort building, and I go to my room. To flop onto the bed. And stare at the ceiling. No one would believe Dr. Madeleine Solberg is about to have a one-night stand. That's what makes it so exciting.
A smile stretches my lips, then I break into a grin.
Maybe I've lost my mind, but it feels too fantastic to stop now.
Chapter Two
Richard
What am I doing? Not one person who knows me would believe I'd ever concoct an insane plan like the one I proposed to the woman on the beach. She's stunning, and apparently, the sight of her in that skimpy bikini vaporized every last thread of my sanity. Inviting a woman to my room for a night of anonymous sex? The word barmy doesn't even begin to describe my mental state today. But if this is madness, I like it.
That woman… her body… the flavor of her mouth…
Memories of her torment me just as I'm returning from that thing I'd needed to take care of, which turned out to be a fruitless effort. I'd hired a car to drive to a secluded beach where the most reclusive author on earth demanded I meet him. Well, his personal assistant told me to go there. I've talked to Sir Dexter Armstrong-Hill several times on the phone, and I flew to Elusion Island at his request. Now he keeps putting me off. His PA, Ilsa Weingartner, met me at the designated location and gave me the news that Dexter will not see me today.
I'd wanted to persuade a Nobel Prize-winning author to sign with my publishing company, but after a week of failed attempts, I'm done. To hell with the contract. I'm going home.
After I make love to that stunning American woman. I shouldn't be doing this, but I need to do it, for reasons I can't understand. So I rush out of the elevator the second the doors open and race down the hall to my suite. The clock on my mobile tells me I have four minutes until the sensual beauty I'd met this afternoon will knock on my door. If she turns up. If I don't lose my nerve. That would be preferable to going barmy, but I've already done that. Might as well see this through to the end.
When I shove my keycard into the lock, a light flashes red. I try it again. Red flashes again. My hand is shaking, which is ridiculous, so I have no choice but to stand here for a moment until I've calmed down.
My mobile says it's now seven fifty-eight.
Bollocks. I slide the keycard in more gently.
The light turns green.
I throw the door open, hurry inside, and kick the door shut without even slowing down. I need to change clothes. I've done that twice today already—once when I changed into my swimsuit, and again when I switched to the business suit I'm now wearing—but I don't want to look like a stuffy publisher when that sexy woman arrives.
What if she changed her mind?
Maybe the thought should ease the tension inside me, but it doesn't. I need to see her again, kiss her again, and do so much more than that.
I change into casual clothes and start pacing the width of the room. The sound of the surf reaches me in here, thanks to the open design of this suite, and all the suites at Elusion Island Resort. The regular rooms don't have this design, and I'd wanted the best view possible. One side of the spacious room not only overlooks the bay but is completely open to the outdoors. I stop midway through another circuit of the room and gaze out across the infinity pool, toward the waters of the bay and the horizon beyond it.
The sun has set, and I can barely make out the mountains or the ocean. The lights of the resort cast glistening pools of illumination on the bay.
A knock on the door pulls my attention away from the view.
She's here. The woman actually came.
I straighten my shirt, though it's already straight. Then I walk up to the door and swing it open.