Paradise Revival Part 2

She nodded. "Good to know. I'd hate to be misquoted."

It took her a few seconds of admiring the rugged beauty of his face to recall that he'd asked her a question. "I bought Paradise Resort because I felt there was a need for a place like this."

"Why?"

Typical reporter-one word question. She thought about answering because and leaving it at that, but that wasn't how she'd been raised. She might have thought about being a smarta.s.s once in awhile, but she'd never actually acted upon it.

"There aren't many places where people can feel free to indulge s.e.xual fantasies to their fullest extent."

"Can't people have whatever s.e.x they want in the privacy of their own bedrooms?"

"Some can. Some can't, or choose not to."

"You have personal experience there?" he asked, his chocolate eyes narrowing.

She smiled at him. "No comment."

He sighed and rolled his shoulders, turning his neck to the side.

"Long day?" she asked.

"Yeah. Got a crick in my neck and I'm sweating. Mind if I make use of your pool while we talk?"

Where were her manners? Tony's arrival and her obvious instant attraction to him had thrown her off kilter, making her forget the basics of detachment and cool civility.

"Of course. I'll start dinner. Go ahead and take a dip in the pool."

Morgan tried to ignore the sounds of running water and that of drawers opening and closing from the guest bedroom. She busied herself with preparing the fish and vegetables, making every attempt to block the vision of the man in the other room, and how he'd look naked. His body would be muscular, she could already tell by his biceps, broad shoulders and the well-sculpted thighs encased in denim. She'd spied a mat of dark hair peeking out the top of his polo s.h.i.+rt, and she imagined it would lead lower to a vee of soft, dark down, ending with curling black hair between his legs.

And in between his legs would be that magnificent p.e.n.i.s she'd seen outlined against his jeans. Thick and long, the kind that took a woman's breath away. She licked her lips, imagining his groan of pleasure when a woman wrapped her mouth around the head and licked the moisture off the tip.

Using her forearm, she swiped at the perspiration on her forehead, and chose to ignore the dampness forming between her legs. She'd take care of her arousal tonight.

Alone. With her own hand, as she had for the past three years.

But this time, when she slid under the cool sheets of her bed and her hand found that aching spot between her legs, she wouldn't imagine a faceless stranger whose kindness and patience would somehow awaken her desire to be touched by a man again.

This time, she'd imagine Tony Marino.

Morgan laid the foil-enshrouded fish on the grill, then sat at the table, watching Tony swim. His face buried underwater, he used long, fluid strokes to make his way from one end to the other. Without breaking stride he dove underneath and pushed off, coming up halfway to the other side before continuing his measured stroking toward the opposite end of the pool.

She longed to jump in and join him, but she never wore her bikini when others were around. As it was, she was uncomfortable in the short sundress she'd thrown on. Typically she wandered around naked at night, loving the freedom of having her body revealed and knowing no one could see it.

But not for the next week, because she had stupidly invited Tony to stay here while he conducted his interview.

What had possessed her to invite a stranger, and a man at that, to stay in her home? She never had guests over. Other than an annual summer party for the resort staff, she lived entirely alone.

For three years she'd been satisfied with the status quo. She had enough contact with people at the resort. Typically, by the time the workday ended, she was tired of talking and craved the solitude of her private place.

So why had she invited him to stay with her? Because they'd overbooked the resort and he really had no place to stay? Or was there another reason?

"Why don't you join me?"

She s.h.i.+vered at his voice, that old, familiar fear resurfacing. For a moment there he'd sounded like. . .no, he wasn't David.

"No thanks," she replied.

"Why not?" He'd swum to the side and laid his chin on his forearms. His wet hair curled and with one hand he swept it back, revealing a face Michelangelo would want to paint. Rugged angles, a square jaw, deep set dark eyes with full brows, and a beautifully sculpted nose.

"I'll just watch you swim. I'm keeping an eye on the grill."

He shrugged and dove down again, and Morgan relaxed.

She hadn't thought of David in years. Why now? Simple enough. Because Tony was the first man she'd been attracted to since David. That alone shocked her, because she hadn't thought of s.e.x for over three years. Hadn't wanted it, hadn't desired it, and other than the physical relief she gave herself, the thought of coupling with a man produced only revulsion.

So why now? Because she had one-on-one time with a very attractive man? A man who clearly desired her? Reasonable enough to a.s.sume an attraction to any man at all would dredge up the memories.

Memories weren't so bad. She shouldn't forget what happened back then. If she didn't forget, she couldn't get hurt again. If she was careful, very careful, she wouldn't make another mistake.

Mistakes had almost cost her life. Falling in love had nearly killed her and made it abundantly clear she had no clue whom to trust. Easier not to trust anyone than make a mistake again. Next time it might kill her.

The easiest way to avoid that happening was to crush the stirrings of desire she felt bubbling to life as she watched Tony. She'd already made one huge error in judgment by inviting him into her home for the week. But she was stronger than she used to be. She could withstand the temptation of a desirable man.

She had no other choice.

"Dinner will be ready shortly," she announced as he surfaced near the edge of the pool.

Despite her intent, she couldn't help but admire his body. He jumped out and grabbed for a towel on the nearby chaise. She sighed at his taut, six-pack abdomen, admired his deep tan, and enjoyed the view of his legs. Too bad his long swim trunks hid his thighs. She'd already sampled a tasty view of his fine rear end in his jeans. In the baggy shorts he wore now, most of his upper legs were covered.

"Can I help you with something?"

Oh h.e.l.l, he'd caught her gawking. "Excuse me?"

He approached her, stopping a respectable distance away. But his grin reached out and touched her heart. His damp, curling hair fell across his forehead, and she pressed her fingers into her palm to keep from reaching out to push it back.

The warning bells sounded in her head. She had to remember that appearances could be deceiving. Good looking men who exuded boyish charm could also hide a heart of evil.

"With dinner. Can I help you with it?"

Oh that. She turned away. "I've got it covered. Go change. I'll have everything set out here when you get back. It's much too nice to eat inside tonight."

He tilted his head to the side, then paused as if he would speak. Instead, he shrugged and stepped into the house.

Morgan exhaled. With shaky hands she placed the fish on the table, then went inside to grab the rest of the meal.

Too close. That was just too close. She had to stop looking at him like she was starving for male companions.h.i.+p. He was way too sharp, she didn't need to give him any more ammunition.

She'd all but drooled all over him and had done a really lousy job of disguising her interest in him. By now, he probably thought she was some kind of nymphomaniac, out to screw every guy she could get her hands on.

She grabbed a bottle of wine. It was most definitely time for a drink.

By the time Tony changed into shorts and a tank top, Morgan had their meal set on the patio table. She busied herself with arranging the fish and vegetables onto the plates, trying her best to ignore how good he looked.

She took a long sip of wine and stared into the gla.s.s. Not that long ago she'd have been bold enough to let a man know when she was attracted to him. She'd been so b.a.l.l.sy back then-David had told her that was what attracted him the most. The fact she'd had guts enough to ask him out, to proposition him. How could she have known her daring nature would be her downfall?

"You seem so far away."

Morgan looked up to find Tony staring at her. "Sorry. Thinking."

"About?"

"About the resort," she lied.

He seemed satisfied with her answer and resumed eating, even complimenting her cooking skills. She beamed. How long had it been since a man had something nice to say to her?

Well, nice in the way that didn't include a s.e.xual proposition. She expected those in her position, and easily fended off the most persistent of resort guests with a smile and a compliment so they wouldn't feel insulted.

They finished the meal in silence, then carried the dishes to the kitchen. Surprise of all surprises, Tony filled the sink and washed everything himself despite her protestations.

A man who helped in the kitchen? She could almost fall in a heap on the floor in shock. She let out a soft laugh at the thought.

"What's so funny?" Tony turned around, wiping his hands on a towel nearby.

"You did the dishes." She leaned against the center island with her arms crossed, mindful of how much wine she'd consumed so far tonight. She still had control, though. She knew her limits.

He grinned and filled their gla.s.ses with more wine. "In a big Italian family, everyone pitches in."

They stepped back outside and sat in the chairs by the pool. Morgan settled in, still a bit wary and waiting for the inquisition, but considerably more relaxed than she'd been earlier. He hadn't exactly pounced on her or propositioned her for s.e.x. In fact, he'd all but ignored her.

"s.h.i.+t!" he yelled suddenly, jumping when Phoebe leaped into his lap.

Morgan bit back the low chuckle that threatened to spill from her lips.

"Did you train this thing to pounce without warning?" he asked, leaning back in his chair as if a lion sat in his lap instead of a ten-pound cat. The cat turned around and stared at him.

"Hardly. Phoebe likes to think she's a thousand pound tiger." She leaned forward and whispered, "Don't tell her she's not, okay?"

He laughed. A deep, rich, baritone. The kind of laugh that rumbled through her body and settled between her legs. "I'll try to keep it a secret."

Once Phoebe settled in on Tony's lap and went to sleep, he shrugged and stroked his hand over her back. Morgan bit her lip and tried not to imagine his hand stroking her body in the same way.

Time to occupy her mind with something that didn't have to do with Tony's hands on her body.

"How large is your family?" she asked.

"Four brothers, two sisters and probably eight hundred cousins."

"You're joking, right?" Being an only child, she couldn't imagine that many siblings

and cousins. Neither of her parents had brothers or sisters. She'd always wondered what it might have been like to have a large, extended family. As it was, her parents could hardly stand having her around, let alone anyone else. It had seemed that their universe had been the two of them, and anyone else was an interference. Like her. Morgan had always felt unwanted, as if creating her had been something her parents had felt obligated to do.

"Maybe I exaggerated a bit on the cousins. But at least thirty of them, plus their own kids. Holidays are always chaotically interesting."

From the sparkle in his eyes Morgan knew he was remembering good times. When was the last time she had a good memory? Did she even have any?

"Thinking about work again?" he asked, taking a swallow of wine.

"Yes." Eventually she'd have to come up with a better lie. Or quit zoning out on him.

"You're probably tired. I should let you get some sleep."

Morgan waved her hand in the air. "Not really. I don't sleep much." And just exactly

why had she revealed that to him? She glared at her empty wine gla.s.s.

He arched a brow. "Why?"

"Always a lot on my mind, I suppose."

"Resort things, or personal things?"

Wonderful. It hadn't taken long for that line of questioning to start. "Mostly resort

things, and my personal life is none of your business."

He leaned back in the chair, a smile curving his lips. "The article will focus on both you and the resort."

"I know that, I agreed to the terms. But there's personal, and then there's personal."

"And how am I supposed to distinguish between the two?"

"I'll let you know if your questions are out of bounds."