Manhattan Holiday Page 10

  Then the moment was over, and he picked her up once again in his arms and dumped her onto the back of one of the jet skis. “Stop worrying. You can sit in front of me and I’ll help you,” he ordered, throwing a long hairy leg over the machine as he climbed on behind her, proceeding to nudge the machine forward until it was completely in the water.

  April felt him mold his large athletic body to hers as his strong arms came around to reach for the ignition. She jumped away from him and heard him chuckle behind her, his voice deep and husky sounding in her ear. “Will you relax and just enjoy it?” he demanded.

  “Do you say that to all your women?” she quipped, not able to help herself.

  He laughed outright, actually hugging her back against his vested chest as he did so. “Only to the ones that make me totally nuts.” He laughed deeply, and she finally gave in and relaxed back against him. “That’s much better, April,” he breathed into her ear, his voice now smoothly seductive, his slight accent more pronounced when he said her name. His warm breath on her ear was almost her undoing. It tickled her and sent more waves of heat through her. Her body hummed wickedly with the knowledge the most gorgeous man she’d ever seen was currently wrapped around her.

  He set the jet ski in motion, and they flew forward. She held on to the handles with his large tanned hands next to hers while he maneuvered them out into deeper water. With caution he turned them in circles, into the aqua-blue waves, making the machine bounce up and over the white-capped swells. Within minutes she found herself immersed in the experience. This was more fun than she’d had in a long time. It was pure exhilaration. Laugher bubbled up within her and was forced out by each turn they took, by each blue wave they rode together.

  She fully lost her inhibitions. Roman joined her in her laugher, obviously enjoying the fact he was showing her something new and she was completely loving it. She watched the coastline as they moved along, fascinated at the luxury homes lining the shore, each complete with its own dock and boat. The morning was sparkling fresh with large, cottony white clouds floating overhead, azure waters warm to the touch, the hot southern air sultry on her skin. With each turn a fine spray of warm water misted them, cooling them from the already sizzling sun above.

  The thing that really shocked her—besides how much fun she was having—was how much she liked having Roman Vasquez wrapped around her: his muscled arms brushing against hers, looking so dark and foreign against her pale skin, and his equally muscled brown legs, covered in dark hair, lined snuggly against hers where she sat poised between them. Now and then he would lean over her shoulder, placing his unshaven face against hers, pointing out something in particular along the shoreline. Within his embrace she felt safe and protected like she never had before in her life. For some crazy reason, she knew nothing would harm her as long as he had his strong arms around her. She couldn’t fathom being the woman who would be able to feel like this, with him, for a lifetime.

  Not that any woman would ever be able to hold on to a man like him. With that realization, a jolt of sudden sadness lingered in a part of her heart she hadn’t known existed.

  All too soon he returned them back to their portion of the beach, slowing as they neared. He cut the engine and let them drift the few feet into the shallow water until the jet ski bumped the sandy bottom. She dropped her hands from the handles and waited for him to do the same. Instead, he moved his hands to her arms, turning her gently until she was facing him, capturing her chin with a gentle touch to tilt her face upward while he lowered his mouth onto hers. His kiss was achingly slow and deliberate. He tasted her pink lips, teasingly nipping at her pouting lower lip until he’d had enough, before tenderly sliding his tongue against her own in a purely evocative move.

  To April his kiss was surprisingly sweet, intensely loving, and sensually erotic all at once…and without a doubt it truly caught her off guard.

  “Hey, you guys! You don’t have to put on an act when it’s only me,” Emily shouted, making her way down from the lawn unto the beach.

  April heard Roman groan low in his throat as he pulled away from her, along with a few Spanish swear words issued under his breath; obviously annoyed with the interruption from his little sister. For April, Emily’s intrusion was a godsend. It was like a wake-up call. A loud reminder that kissing Roman Vasquez wasn’t on the agenda for the weekend, with the exception of when it was absolutely necessary.

  Red faced, she scrambled off the jet ski and splashed through the warm water to the beach. Behind her Roman pushed the machine onto the sand.

  Emily joined them, smiling widely as she glanced from one to the other. “Looks like you two were having some fun,” she teased.

  April’s cheeks turned an even deeper shade of crimson. “Ah…Roman was nice enough to give me a ride on the jet ski,” she blathered, highly embarrassed at the sexy-sweet make-out scene.

  “Yeah, my brother is all heart,” Emily said, speaking over April’s shoulder toward her sibling.

  “Emily, did you want something?” Roman growled, sounding irritable while he unzipped his life jacket and tossed it onto the beach.

  Emily smiled to April. “It’s time to get ready to go to the spa,” she told her, ignoring her grumpy brother altogether. “Don’t bother showering. Just change into some jeans or something quick. Our appointments are scheduled in a half hour. We’ll also have lunch there.”

  April nodded. “Let me get this vest off and get my things by the pool. Should I meet you at the front door in ten minutes?”

  “Sounds like a plan,” Emily announced happily, turning to jog back across the white sand beach.

  April quickly tugged at the large metal zipper of her life vest. She gave it three tries, each time pulling harder, without success. Finally Roman moved forward, pushing her hands out of the way so he could have a go at it. On the first try it released with a jerk, with him once again moving it down, ever so slowly over the swells of her breasts. She didn’t know if he was doing it deliberately, but for some reason he seemed to be taking his sweet time. Her breath stalled completely in anticipation, his long brown fingers lightly skimming the white mounds of her breasts above her skimpy bikini top.

  She dared to glance up. He was gazing directly into her eyes, his own deep brown ones reflecting a smoldering fire, his strong jaw tight, his lips nothing but a firm, grim line, almost as if he were being tortured. She saw him swallow hard, his prominent Adam’s apple constricting with the motion, while he finished with the zipper. After which he achingly, inch by inch, pulled the vest back off her shoulders in order for her to remove her arms from it. In the process she leaned forward to wiggle out of its tight confines, her breasts barely contained now in her tiny bikini, straining abundantly against his chest, grazing his warm skin while she attempted to free herself. She heard his sharp intake of breath right before he swore again in Spanish. This time he did so loudly, as if he couldn’t help himself and didn’t care in the least who heard.

  “Thank you,” she murmured weakly, her voice shaky and devastatingly frail as she stepped away from him, finally free. She knew they were close to overstepping the boundaries they’d set. Dangerously close. But for some reason, it seemed neither of them wanted to stay behind the drawn line. “And thanks again for the ride.”

  He nodded, looking anything but happy with her. “You should get out of the sun,” he suggested, his voice strained. “Your skin is so fair you can burn even in the morning hours down here.”

  “I have sunscreen on, but I think I’ve had enough sun for one day,” she agreed, acknowledging a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn’t know if she felt ill from too much sun or if she was just terrified from what had happened between them. “I guess I’ll see you later tonight.”

  “Tonight,” he growled in response.

  She turned and made her way across the burning hot sand, producing a wincing reaction as the vulnerable soles of her feet made contact with the fine-grained beach. Without hesitation he came behind a
nd scooped her into his arms, holding her gently until they reached the grassy lawn.

  She was stunned. The sand had scorched the tender undersides of her feet, but she hadn’t said a thing, only wished she’d brought sandals with her until she felt Roman lifting her once again.

  He didn’t look down at her, only held her in his arms until he gallantly lowered her onto the soft, silky grass. The leftover morning dew bathed her parched soles with instant relief. She shivered involuntary, not sure if it was from the cool grass between her toes or what he’d done for her.

  Her body trembled again as he released her. “Uh…thanks…see you later,” she mumbled faintly, walking away from him in a daze, not waiting for a reply.

  She simply wanted—no, needed—time alone to figure out why she was suddenly, wildly, undeniably…falling for Roman Vasquez.

  Chapter Nine

  The sparkling Florida sun had already set as April got out of Emily’s sports car feeling new and improved, straight from The Spa at Sand Bay. Both women sauntered toward the front door of Lana Vasquez’s home with complimentary pink bags of pricy spa lotions and shampoos in hand. For April, each step closer made her breath heavier with tension, while at the same time her throat tightened and constricted with raw nerves. She was positive she was having another panic attack like the one she’d experienced on Roman’s plane the day before. Only this time, he wasn’t here to hold her hand.

  She also knew her jagged nerves had nothing to do with the wedding. Instead, her panicky state had everything to do with this morning on the beach.

  Something crazy and unplanned had occurred between the two of them. She’d seen it in his dark eyes: a look of complete shock, surprise, wariness and she’d been the same. It was similar to the way a person can walk through life thinking they know exactly what’s in store for them—only to have their life turn out completely different in an instant.

  In New York she knew exactly who and what he was. Down here in Miami, he was so unlike the man she’d met six months ago and seemed almost…almost as if he were experiencing feelings toward her. Oddly enough, he looked as baffled about it as she felt. There was also the way he looked at her with those arresting dark eyes, and the way he touched her so gently, kissing her this morning with a passionate, loving tenderness that spoke of deep-seated feelings. Not only that, but the man was continuing to disarm her with his attentiveness and old-fashioned charm. She’d pegged him as someone who never had a second thought of anything or anyone but himself. That was until he told her about his plans for the children’s hospital wing and showed her how sincere and loving he was to his family members.

  All that, combined with a repeated flash of how he’d gazed down at her breast spilling out of her bikini top while she pulled off her life jacket, made her wilt with explicit longing. She replayed for the hundredth time his fierce expression as he slowly released the zipper. He’d definitely been interested, if the wicked gleam in his eyes was any indication. Remembering made her die a little with her desire for a repeat.

  This whole situation is becoming seriously bizarre.

  On the verge of being overwhelmed, she told herself to calm down and act as if marrying Roman Vasquez was a part of any normal day. It was business. Not pleasure. If she remembered that, she could get through the evening intact.

  She groaned in false bravado and knew she had absolutely no ability to believe that stupid statement. Wimp.

  Lost in thought, Emily ushered her through the bustling house—now a flurry of activity with caterers and various delivery people—directly to her room, giggling that she didn’t want Roman to see the bride before the wedding. In response, April openly glared back at her friend.

  Having already showered at the spa, with her hair expertly fashioned in a sexy upswept hairstyle, only left her to complete her makeup and step into her dress. Emily promptly excused herself to find her husband Jake and to get ready for the night ahead. After the bedroom door closed, April noted the evening hour was fast approaching.

  With hurried movements, she carefully stripped off her pink tank, mindful of her hair, before tugging off her jeans, panties and bra. Next she slipped on a pair of lacy white barely there panties, sans a bra, only covering herself in a thin robe as she did her light makeup.

  In the adjacent bathroom, she studied her face in the mirror, deciding to forgo too much glitz. Instead she applied the barest of eye makeup along with a few coats of mascara, then a quick dusting of translucent face powder, with a soft luminizer to her cheekbones, followed by a light pink blush over the top. Finally she coated her lips with a sheer peachy coral gloss. The sun she’d gotten this morning added a warm glow to her skin. Outwardly she looked like a radiant bride—when in reality she felt like the worst fake.

  She put her makeup away and walked back into the bedroom, absolutely hating the mix of feelings inside her, like a sky full of butterflies were rumbling around in her stomach. She also felt a heavy dose of self-loathing from the way she was betraying Roman’s mother and all the others invited tonight. Most of all, she hated him for putting her in this position and for how easy he made it all seem—like it was no big deal, as if he signed marriage contracts every blasted day of the week.

  She took her dress off the hanger as a flash of what he’d told her this morning resonated in her mind…trust me. She released a slow moan and shook her head, holding her dress to her breast. Nothing about him made sense. How could the man be so sincere about helping others but not blink an eye about unmercifully manipulating her?

  She took her dress off the hanger and stepped into it, pulling it up and over her hips and adjusting the tiny straps over her shoulders before arranging the neckline to enhance her breasts. At the same time she wondered what in the world had possessed her to buy such a revealing dress. The silk gown was cut to skim her body and featured a daring bust line; the silk material purposely designed to drape low in a cowl-neck fashion, slightly over and under her full breasts. Next fitting snuggly in the bodice and hips, then falling elegantly down to the floor, flaring to a fluted hemline that flattered her soft curves. The back was equally daring, with a dramatic plunging style that showed off her toned, delicate torso.

  She stared at herself in the mirror and bit her lip in self-doubt. The plunging bust line left no room for any kind of bra whatsoever, which in turn made her feel sexy but vulnerable. Although, when she took another glance, she had to admit she did look good—that was the sole reason she’d impulsively chosen the dress in the first place. Her breasts were high and round and filled out the top portion beautifully.

  She smoothed the silk over her hips and slipped her feet into matching silver-white, jewel-encrusted open-toed heels. The only thing left was her earrings, which were a simple combination of drop pearl and diamonds her sister June had given her on her last birthday. She was putting the back on the second earring when a knock sounded at the door and opened a moment later.

  Emily stepped into the room, dressed in a full-length strapless gown of a bright fuchsia. The overly vivid material clung to her every curve, and April thought only a woman with such beautiful dark coloring could wear such a daring dress.

  “April!” Emily gushed, closing the door and coming to stand in front of her as April added a simple pearl bracelet to her wrist. “That dress—it’s amazing! Wow! Totally hot. I can’t wait to see Roman’s reaction when he sees you in this.”

  April immediately went on alert. “Do you think it’s too much? Too revealing?”

  Emily laughed. “For my brother? No way,” she declared. “He’ll love it.”

  She shook her head with uncertainty and spritzed herself with perfume, worrying all the more. “I guess. But then it doesn’t really matter if he likes it or not. I’m only marrying him so he can build the hospital wing. Nothing more.”

  Emily looked taken aback at her friend’s truthful, albeit cold admission. “I suppose you’re right. But think about it, April. Don’t you ever wonder why you and Roman hooked up? Why you�
�re standing here tonight instead of some other woman?” There was a peculiar tone to her friend’s voice, almost as if she knew some secret insider information.

  April quickly brushed her suspicions aside and looked at the situation logically, like any good attorney’s assistant would. “What are you talking about? It was a fluke. I was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Maybe you were in the right place at the right time,” Emily countered softly.

  “Very funny, Emily.” She wasn’t the least bit amused by her friend’s strange comment. At the same time, she found herself distracted by another matrimonial detail. “Oh, my gosh! I absolutely forgot…I need a maid of honor. Do you think—”

  Emily smiled. “Of course I will. I was going to mention it earlier, but I forgot.”

  “Who will be Roman’s best man? Jake?”

  “No, Rafael Quintero. He’s Roman’s best friend since childhood.”

  The swarm of butterflies revived themselves once again in her stomach, along with an added guilty queasiness. “This is really becoming a production. Family, childhood friends, a full moon…” she listed off, sounding and feeling completely overwhelmed as any bride would.

  “If you think that’s a lot to process, wait until you see what the wedding planner has done outside around the pool.” Emily’s eyes widened with concern at April’s sudden paleness. “No, I take that back! Forget everything I said and focus on Roman when you’re out there.”

  April’s stomach did another flop and landed hard. “Is that little piece of advice supposed to help—or make me bolt to the nearest airport?”