Author: Christine Bell

“Sounds like a trap,” Owen said.

Sarabeth gave him a patient smile, but didn’t respond. She made her way around the room handing out notes cards, pencils, and a sheet of questions to each couple. Once she finished, she set a timer on each table.

“You have five minutes to negotiate your best answer to four questions and write them down. I’ll read the first one aloud. Ready? Question one. If you could be any superhero you wanted, who would you be?”

Lindy turned over their timer and chatter filled the room. “Spider-Man,” she said without hesitation.

Owen’s brows rose high on his forehead. “Ridiculous. Batman is much cooler than Spider-Man.”

“Batman?” she scoffed. “I hate to break it to you, Irish, but Batman isn’t a real superhero. He’s just a rich guy with a lot of stuff. Even his muscles are made out of fiberglass.”

“Spider-Man is some prat who got bit by a radioactive spider. How does that make him any better?”

She rolled her eyes in disgust. “That’s how all the best superheroes are born. Toxic waste, hazardous chemicals, spider bites. I mean, I guess you could make an argument for Superman, but he’s actually more of an alien than a superhero.” She contemplated that for a moment and then shrugged. “Nope, I’m sticking with Spider-Man. Next question.”

“I’ll let you have that one, but only because I’m too dignified to argue over something so ludicrous. And because I get to answer number three.” He peered down at the card and read aloud. “If the world was about to end, and you had one day left, how would you spend it?” Owen gave her a silky smile then put pencil to paper.

She craned her neck to see the single word answer.

Shagging.

“All day? Seriously?” She eyed him incredulously.

“There would be food breaks, of course,” he said. “Would it make you feel better if I added that in?” he asked, pencil poised over his notebook.

She blew out a sigh. “No. Can’t we change that to half the day? Surely after twelve hours, we’d be bored…” She trailed off as his gaze dropped to her mouth and his nostrils flared.

“I’m certain that would not be the case.”

Heat bloomed between her thighs and she squirmed in her chair. “How could you possibly know that? We’ve never…”

“As I’ve said, I’m happy to remedy that sad state of affairs. Say the word, love.” His expression was teasing, but there was a note of longing that intensified the ache building in her stomach.

Had anyone ever expired from unrequited need? Maybe when she got back home she’d indulge in a one-night stand with a guy she didn’t like half as much as Owen. No chance of getting attached, but maybe she’d get what she so clearly needed.

Owen’s gaze burned into hers, and she returned it with a glare. “I already told you, not going to happen.”

“Roger that. But I want to go on record as saying, if it did?” The playfulness evaporated under the tension of a want so keen, it was etched on his face. “I would make it so good for you.”

The sensual promise reverberated through her, and she clenched her thighs together to ease the ache that grew sharper with each passing hour. She snatched the paper from his hand, silently cursing herself for not taking advantage of the removable showerhead in their bathroom, and read the next question.

“Question two, which you so conveniently skipped over. If you were stuck on a desert island for a year and you could bring three things with you, assuming there was already plenty of food and water available, what would they be?”

“—a cooler full of beer—”

“—my Kindle —”

He frowned. “Your Kindle? Why, so you could ignore me all day and night? I could keep you entertained.” The teasing note was back, and she nearly slumped with relief. The onslaught of his full, sexual attention was too much to bear.

“Or, you could keep yourself entertained and I could read my Kindle.”

“Nice. Well, you can have your Kindle if I can have my beer. What good is a desert island if you can’t kick back in the sun and have a pint?”

“Okay, agreed. Now that I think about it, maybe the third thing should be more practical. How about sunblock?”

“My, you’re a smart lass.” He nodded and wrote down their answers, and she tried not to dwell on the flutter of pleasure that danced through her at his praise.

“Last one. If your house was on fire, what is the first item you would grab above all else?” she asked.

“My laptop,” Owen said. “I’ve everything on it, and it’d be a bitch to replace.”

Lindy shook her head. “Seriously? That’s…a thing. A hunk of metal.”

“What would you take?”

“My pictures. The photos of my mom and dad with me, Mal and Nate.”

Owen pursed his lips and nodded grudgingly. “You’re right. Scratch the laptop.” He wrote in their answer, and her heart felt a little lighter.

A moment later, Sarabeth called, “Okay, time’s up!”

“We’re not done yet,” Calvin Cedarhurst said.

Jordan chimed in behind him. “Us either.”

“It’s fine. Most couples don’t finish the first time. It’s really neat to see, at the end of the three weeks, how many of you will be able to complete your task in the allotted time. It’s a great way to measure progress. Did anyone complete all four answers?”

Lindy raised her hand. “We did.”

Sarabeth beamed at her. “Great start, O’Neils. You get the gold star for the day.”

She shot Owen a look and he shrugged. It was a sad state of affairs when the only non-couple at the resort had fared better than all of their married counterparts.

Sarabeth collected their sheets and filled them in on the next day’s activities. “Today we got to see you interact as couples. Tomorrow we’ll be doing some one-on-one work. Dress for comfort, active-wear preferably, and we’ll meet here at eight o’clock a.m. for your morning itineraries.”

Lindy stood and gathered her purse.

“I’ll be right back,” Owen said. His gaze was trained on Stephanopoulos sitting alone at the corner table.

“So what did you think?” Jordan asked, sidling up to Lindy while Owen made a beeline for Nico. “I thought it was interesting. Marty and I only had one more to do. We got the answer, but didn’t have time to write it down,” she said with a satisfied smirk.

Lindy wasn’t surprised. It was likely a much easier game when one person had all the right answers, but she gave the other woman an encouraging smile. “Great job.”

“Thanks. Hey, did you guys want to go to the bar for drinks tonight? Marty and I were thinking we’d have a nightcap before bed.”

“I’ll ask Owen, but I’m beat. The time change and all, it’s been a bear of a day.”

A large, warm hand covered her low on her back and she startled, whipping around. Owen stood there wearing a stiff smile. “Hey, honey, everything all right?”

Her heart slowed to a more normal rhythm. “Yes. Yes, everything’s fine. The Wa— ah, Jordan was asking if we wanted to have drinks with them.”

Owen shook his head, but pulled off a regretful expression beautifully. “I think we’re going to stay in and catch up on our rest. Another night though, yeah?”

Jordan narrowed her eyes at him but nodded. “That’s fine.”

“I’m going to say goodnight to Marty and Calvin and we can go,” Owen told Lindy.

Jordan stared at his retreating form before turning to face Lindy. “Why do you flinch whenever he touches you?” she asked, her hard eyes filling with concern. “That’s the second time I noticed that. He doesn’t…hit you, does he? I don’t want to pry, but if he hit you once, he’ll hit you again. If Marty hit me, he would rue the day.”

“It’s nothing like that. Owen would never put a hand on me in anger. It’s me. I’ve been feeling weird about intimacy lately,” she said off the top of her head, regretting that she had to go there. Owen was going to be pissed, but on the spur of the moment, in light of her inadvertent actions, she couldn’t think of anything better. “That’s part of the reason we came here. We’re going through a rough patch.”

“Did he cheat?” Jordan whispered.

Did he? She paused for a stretch, trying to figure out if that was a good direction to take things. It was better than saying he hadn’t been amorous toward her. She knew where that would end up getting her. On the business end of Owen’s full-court press.

“Yep. He’s extremely virile. I couldn’t keep up so he found a woman—actually, it was more like three—who could.”

Jordan’s eyes widened, and she clapped a hand to her chest in surprise. “That bastard!”

“It’s okay. We’re working through it. It’s taking a while, though. I still have a hard time knowing where his hands have been, if you know what I mean.” She wagged her eyebrows and Jordan wrinkled her nose in disgust.

“I guess so. You seem to be taking it really well. I’d kill Marty.”

“The first few months were the worst. Once I made the decision to stay, I realized I had to forgive him. Now it’s time to repair what was broken.”

Jordan gave her a dubious look, but Lindy must have sounded convincing because she let the topic go. They had moved on to discussing tomorrow’s activities when Owen came back.

“All set, love?”

“More than. I’m exhausted. Jordan, we’ll see you tomorrow?”

Jordan leaned in and pulled Lindy into a fierce hug, which Lindy returned reluctantly. When she released her, she gave Owen a frosty “Good night,” before returning to her husband.

“What the hell was that about?” he asked.

“You don’t want to know.”

Chapter Eight

“That was a disaster,” Lindy groaned, laying her purse onto the granite countertop of their suite’s kitchen. “I’m really sorry.”

She’d filled him in on her discussion with Jordan on the way back to the room. He wasn’t exactly thrilled about her latest fabrication. There were few things he hated more than a cheat, but she looked so miserable, he couldn’t bring himself to kick her while she was down.

“Don’t be dramatic. It wasn’t perfect, but certainly not a disaster. We’ve got to be better prepared next time. Sarabeth is bound by her position not to mention what we discuss with her, but Jordan isn’t. I’m thinking if anyone asks, since it’s out there now, the cheating story is the one to stick with from this point forward. It’s as good a cover as any. The important thing is that we’re consistent. If we can manage that, we shouldn’t have a problem.”

“The problem is me. I’m not quick on my feet when it comes to lying, and when I try, it’s like I have no control over what comes out.” She toed off one stiletto and rubbed her bare foot absently against her calf. Her feet were adorable, like the rest of her, and he was hit with the inane desire to press a kiss to her instep, maybe slide higher to her slim ankle, the back of her knees, the crease—

“Don’t you think?”

He shot his gaze up to meet hers and she stared at him expectantly. What had he missed?

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously “Are you drunk or something?”

“I had one glass of wine.”

“Why are you acting so weird then?”

He wondered what she would say if he told her the truth. I was perfectly sane before I met you, but the need to lick you from head to toe is slowly driving me insane.

“It’s been a long day.”