Losing Control
When they'd finished the last of that tasty pink nectar, out of nowhere one of the women who'd set up earlier appeared with a fresh batch. Taryn thought she'd make an inquiry.
"Can you tell me the best direction for a walk along the beach tonight?" She explained to Cole, "I want to take some night shots."
"A full moon will be out," the woman said, refilling their glasses. "Either stretch is free from outcrops. There are more turtle nests down that way." She slanted her head toward their right. "You might even see a batch hatching."
Taryn sat straighter. "Really?"
She'd seen a turtle nest hatching on YouTube. The sand had bubbled then a circle overflowed with tiny flippers and shells pushing themselves out into the world. A nest was supposed to contain from fifty to over two hundred eggs. Now that was a big family.
"Throw a blanket out high on the beach and you might get lucky," the woman said, setting down the carafe. "But don't use a torch or flashlight. That confuses hatchlings." Swinging back her heavy fall of brunette hair, she again gestured down the beach. "You'll see the nests. The children mark them off."
Cole seemed interested, too. "You really think we might see some hatch?"
"Female turtles like to return to the same nesting ground, and that section is popular." After the woman had replaced used plates for clean, she ended, "Don't forget a blanket. Sea breezes can be cool at night."
As the woman headed off, Taryn sized Cole up. "So you like turtles, huh?"
"Tate's grade is signed up in some conservation program about them."
"Hopefully we'll get lucky and snap some close-up shots he can take to class." She pushed back her chair. "Think I might take the opportunity to catch up with that woman and get her ideas on other spots to check out while we're here."
"You'll find me on hammock duty."
As he got to his feet, too, and stretched those magnificent arms at angles above his head, Taryn pressed her lips together then said it anyway. He looked so striking yet relaxed. So unlike his usual blustering self.
"Maybe you shouldn't take a real vacation. It might feel so good, you'd never want to come back."
"Leave someone else in charge permanently?" Intentional or not, his fingers brushed hers as he passed. "Dream on."
* * *
"I've got blankets."
Cole glanced over from where he lay, swaying, half-asleep. Taryn stood a few feet away on the verandah, a stack of blankets in her arms. Rousing himself, he rocked out of the hammock onto his feet.
"Was that an invitation?" he asked.
"I said Tate liked them." But, seriously, who didn't like turtles? He moved closer. "You won't be disappointed if nothing happens?"
"But something might happen."
Taking in the confident curve of her grin and - in that pink cotton slip of a dress - her other curves, too, he had to agree. Something might happen, and not just on the turtle front. But did he really want to put them both in that situation...alone on a secluded beach for an undefined amount of time, and with bedcoverings to boot?
Taking the blankets, Cole supposed the answer was an unconditional yes.
A few moments later, they were wandering down the beach with a full moon hanging high in its starry night sky.
"That woman was telling me how well this island does through visitors like us," she said. "They have a joint council and apparently invest the revenue wisely."
"Maybe they should spend some on decent public transportation and fixing up that welcome sign."
"Oh, Cole, it's all part of the charm. If you've stayed at one five-star, you've stayed at them all. But you'll never forget that taxi ride."
He winced. "Neither will my shoulder."
They came across a spot where a number of thigh-high stakes were erected and red tape wound around the wood. Protected areas for turtle nests.
Cole surveyed the surrounds - gently sloping dunes, soft sand, idyllic view. He laid out one of the blankets. "Looks like this is our base."
The blanket-covered dune made for one very comfortable backrest. Reclined side by side, he cast the other blanket over Taryn's bare legs. That woman was right. He found the breeze off the water refreshing, but Taryn might think it cool.
After several minutes of listening to water wash on the shore and foliage clattering behind them, he asked, "What do you think would be their favorite time to break out? Don't babies usually come around two in the morning?"
The breeze caught her soft laugh and carried it away. "Can you imagine them all asleep safe in their shells waiting for the right moment? And so many of them." She frowned. "Do you think mother turtles ever wonder how their babies make out?"
He grinned to assure her. "No, I don't."
Her gaze dropped and grew distant, then she said, "I wonder how Muffin and her big belly are holding up."
"She'll be okay." Remembering her philosophy on strays wanting a home, he asked, "Have you got families picked out for the litter?"
"Are you interested?" She gave a playful smirk. "Oh, that's right. Real men don't own cats."
"I do like the fact they can look after themselves. Independent characters."
"There's no better feeling than knowing you can make your own way in life."
"So you don't dream of marrying a rich man who'll shower you with every luxury for the rest of your decadent life?"
"Guess you've met a few women who want to settle down with a wealthy tycoon slash tyrant."
He pretended to preen a tie. "Gee, you make me sound like such a catch."
She surrendered to a smile. "To answer your question, no. I've never wanted to marry for money."
"Me, either," he quipped.
"If you ever had the time to marry."
"Perhaps I'd make time if the right person came along."
When her eyes widened and suddenly neither of them had anything to say, Cole wished he'd thought before he'd come out with something that had sounded like a bad pickup line. He didn't use pickup lines - good, bad or anything in-between.
She jerked upright and looked ahead. "Was that some movement?"
He glanced around. "Not that I saw."
She reclined back, pulling the blanket extra high on her neck.
Cole exhaled. He really had made her uncomfortable. Best to let that thread drop and talk about something else. Something nonpersonal. But, truth was, he wanted to get personal. Whether it was the moon or the water or maybe even that delicious pink nectar, another twenty-four-plus hours alone with Taryn didn't seem long enough.
He picked up grains of sand and, in their silence, let them fall.
"I've made you anxious."
Still looking dead ahead, she shrugged. "Why would I be anxious?"
"I'm not anxious," she went on. "I'm not...anything."
He mulled for a moment. Studied her profile.
"You're not."
She was winding her fingers deeper into the blanket, lifting the cover higher still around her neck. "Not in the least."
"And if I were to do this?"
He leaned toward her but stopped a heartbeat before his mouth met the sweep of her neck...when she'd be able to feel the warmth of his breath on her skin. "Are you anxious now?"
He heard her swallow. "That's not the word that springs to mind."
"Maybe we shouldn't worry about words." Giving in to the tide, he breathed in her intoxicating scent then brushed his lips over a pulse that beat erratically at the side of her throat. He felt her quiver, almost heard her questioning her own resolve. But she didn't bawl him out. Didn't move away.
Rather, still looking ahead, she lifted her chin and said, "I think we should go back."
"Anything you want." His lips brushed a line up to her lobe. Anything at all.
Her neck rocked slowly back. He imagined her eyes drifting shut...the hormones in her system heating and sparking just like his own.
Gently he turned her head until they were gazing into each other's eyes, noses touching. She quivered, but not from the cold.
"Would it surprise you to know," he said, "that I've always wanted to make love on a beach under a full moon with a batch of turtles ready to hatch?"
A smile touched her eyes. "What a coincidence."
He twirled his nose around hers, stole a featherlight kiss from one side of her mouth.
"Cole, when I said something might happen, I didn't mean this."
His hand on her arm, he brought her closer.
"I did."