I splashed him. He splashed back.

“So how old were you?” I asked again.

“I think around ten or so,” he said simply, with no attempt at bragging. Still, that answer blew me away. He responded to my obvious shock. “But I had little else to do. I missed a lot of school in those days because—well, because of the home situation. I had hours and hours to work on it. And I was pretty determined.”

“Ah, so it started young, then.”

“What was that?”

“Your incessant need to always be working.”

He made a face. “It’s not that bad.”

I watched him with open skepticism. “Really? So your family never complains that they don’t see you—that the two times I’ve been with you to family dinner were the first times they’d seen you in months even though you live nearby. Your hundred-hour workweeks all come at a price. You just don’t see it.”

He sobered. “I’ve been better lately. Last few weeks I’ve only clocked in around sixty or so.”

I shook my head in mock wonder. “Only sixty. Such a slacker.” My words were serious but I wanted to lighten the mood so I splashed him again. He sputtered in surprise and then grinned, ducking under the water, shooting straight for my legs. I tried to dart to the side but he grabbed one of them and jerked me back toward him. When we came up for air, we were both laughing and he pressed me to his chest.

When we stopped laughing, he kept me there and my heart slammed against my sternum. No matter how much time we spent together, no matter how much we fooled around, he still had the same effect on me as that first day we’d met. A surge of excitement glided through me, washing over me like a warm tropical rain. Something sparked in his dark eyes and he pulled me to him, bending his head. His mouth met mine in a steamy kiss and I laced my fingers around the back of his neck, returning the passion.

We kissed for long minutes and my hands slipped down his wet chest. He held my upper arms and his body hardened under his trunks. I pulled away. “So we can’t skip dinner, right?”

He shook his head, but he did look regretful.

“Well then, we should probably get ready.”

He smiled. “Good call.”

***

The reception was a quiet but glamorous event, with select hotel guests, staff and other owners present. It was a black-tie affair, so I got to see Adam in a tuxedo for the first time ever. And he was stunning. I wanted to grab him by his thin satin lapels and pull his mouth to mine.

We had this night and the next two nights together. And I intended to enjoy them. If I could manage to pry him away from work as easily as I had this afternoon, I might just be able to.

Earlier, I’d come out with my updo—a hairstylist had come in to help me with that—along with my makeup, my glamorous high heels and that gorgeous backless black dress. His appreciative eyes had taken me in and it made me tingle from head to toe.

“Emilia, you take my breath away.”

We spent a few hours at the reception. Adam introduced me to many people I would never see again so I didn’t bother trying to remember their names.

Then he left me, to talk business with several of the other owners. Other men tried to approach me but I was good at rebuffing them. If the years of social self-exile on a hip college campus had taught me nothing else, they’d taught me the cool art of the brush-off.

When we returned to the suite, candles were lit, the mosquito netting around the bed had been let down and the covers had been turned back. We gave each other an awkward look. The unresolved sexual tension hung heavy about us and stuck to our skin like the balmy tropical air. Fortunately, we were both exhausted. But what about the days to come? I doubted either one of us had considered the consequences of sharing a bed when it couldn’t lead to anything more.

For bed, I changed into a T-shirt and my underwear and he peeled off everything but his boxer briefs. There were fans in our suite, going night and day, and a slight breeze coming up from the bay, but it was a warm night and we would be sleeping without covers.

Uneasily, we settled on the bed—strangely—on the same sides we had taken that one night we had spent together in his bed. We stayed apart for a long time, but despite our exhaustion, it took awhile to fall asleep.

Hours later, I woke up in his arms and he was kissing my neck. I rolled over and in the dim light saw his eyes widen. “Hi.”

“Hi. I didn’t mean to wake you up. I just couldn’t resist a little taste.”

I smiled. “A little taste sounds nice,” I said as I lowered my head and kissed his bare chest. He kissed my hair and I turned my head, looking out over the bay. The light was a steel gray—maybe an hour or two before dawn and everything was still and quiet.