Barefoot in Pearls (Barefoot Bay Brides Book 3) (16 page)

“Does that happen a lot?” he asked.

“Enough. Not constantly. I don’t hear voices,” she said with a laugh. “But, like, when we met Ken today, I felt this inner sense that he’s a good guy. Almost like a voice, but not quite. I trust that judgment.”

“And what did that inner sense tell you when you met me?”

She breathed in a little sharply, not expecting to get so
personal
so soon. She was ready to tell him about her dreams or how she avoided negative people and how there was another plane of spirituality right in front of them.

But he wanted to talk about…him.

“Did you hear a voice that said I’m a good guy?”

“I told you I don’t…” She looked up at him, stunned for a second by how close he was. How real and beautiful he was to her. “Yes,” she whispered. “I felt you are good.”

“Anything else?”

She smiled. “Well, I didn’t need my sixth sense when the other ones were working so well. I could see you’re great-looking and…and…nice.”

“Nice?”

She laughed again. “What do you expect me to say, Luke?”
That I thought you were my soul mate five seconds after I met you?
She’d sound even crazier than he already suspected she was, but it was almost like that
was
what he was probing for.

“I wondered if there was anything, you know, more than
nice
,” he said.

Her heart flipped and flopped and tilted and dropped. She didn’t answer, but didn’t move her gaze from his, either. Blood rammed through her veins, making her pulse points jump the way that little vein in his neck throbbed right then.

“Do you feel it, too?” she whispered.

He lifted his hand, cupping her cheek and jaw, holding her gaze. “I don’t know what I feel, except…” He searched her face, his expression completely vulnerable and open for the first time all night. “I’m afraid you’ve put a spell on me.”

She closed her eyes. “Please don’t make fun of me right now.”

He stroked her cheek with his thumb, grazing the corner of her mouth and her lower lip. “I’m not.” Pulling her close, he kissed her cheek, his lips so soft and sweet she wanted to moan. “That’s the scary thing.”

With a sexy sigh of resignation, he closed the space between their mouths and kissed her.

* * *

Nice
. This kiss was all kinds of nice.

And nice is what she’d thought of him when they’d met—not the “forever-and-ever love” that Gussie claimed was going on. Relaxing into that thought, Luke opened his mouth enough to taste more of her, to get the caramel sweetness on her tongue, and to let their lips find the perfect fit.

This was what he wanted, all he wanted. He wasn’t Arielle’s “destiny mate,” or whatever his sister had called it. This attraction was no more than garden-variety
sexual desire
. And that was just fine. Better than fine.

They both angled their heads naturally, sinking into the kiss and all the sensations that came with it, the world and water and stars and sky fading away as his every sense focused on the touch and taste of a woman he wanted in every way.

That’s all this was…not something
more
.

A sweet sound escaped her throat, and his tongue found hers. Arielle closed her hands around his neck, drawing him closer, inviting him deeper into her mouth. And he went, wrapping his arms around her as well, finishing the kiss by nibbling her jaw and throat, counting the crazy beat of her blood under his lips.

“And is this what you thought it would feel like?” he whispered against her skin.

“Better,” she confessed, tipping her head back to give him more access to sweet skin. “Much better.”

“And you
have
thought about it?” he asked.

“Yes.” She sighed into his mouth, clearly enjoying this every bit as much as he was.

He slid his hand under her hair, burrowing up into the thick locks as he closed in for another long, deep kiss that tasted like vanilla and cream and
sex
. Not love. Not forever. But the truth was…

“I’ve never felt anything like this,” he admitted. Oh,
man
. “Your hair,” he added quickly, dragging his hand through the length of it, not a single tangle in what had to be damn near two feet of midnight-black silk. “Never felt
anything
like it.”

She laughed and leaned her head to the side, tempting him to go right back under her hair for another swipe of the sinfully soft strands. “You’ve never been with a woman with Native American blood, then.”

“Definitely not.” He lifted a handful of hair and buried his face in it, inhaling the flowery shampoo and salt air that clung to her. “But you probably already know that.”

“I’m not a mind reader, Luke. I don’t know much at all about you.”

“Then let’s change that.” He peppered more kisses along her jaw, his hands spreading over her shoulders, aching to slide lower and touch more of her body.

“You want to tell me things I don’t know?”

“I want to…” He buried the obvious into another kiss, inching his hand lower to rest on the rise of her breast, and just that little intimacy made him hotter and harder. “I want to go home, Little Mermaid. With you.”

He started to stand and tried to bring her with him, but she stayed on the bench, holding tight, refusing to move. She searched his face with her exotic eyes, an expression of vulnerability and fear and uncertainty making her more beautiful.

Completely beautiful. Like no one he’d ever met. Unable to stop himself, he sat back down and closed his hands over her cheeks, holding her face like a precious work of art. “I can’t wait to see you naked.” The confession, rough and raspy, tumbled out, and she didn’t even blink.

In fact, she didn’t move or breathe or say a word.

“Too soon?” he asked after a few heartbeats of silence. “Too much? Too—”

She put her fingers over his mouth, the touch so light it tickled his lips. “Stop talking. Just…
feel
.”

The order rolled through him like a thunderclap, making him as still as she was. “Feel what?” He didn’t want to
feel
anything except her body and her mouth, her hands and her legs—squeezed around him when he slid inside her.

The thought kicked too much blood to his cock, making it harder.

“Come on, Ari—”

“
Feel
.” She insisted. “This.” She added some pressure against his lips. “Do you feel it?”

Yes, damn it. He felt it. He felt electricity and desire and some inexplicable deep-seated ache that he assumed started in his balls and wasn’t going to end until he had relief. He felt a little brain dead and foolish, and yet as alert as if he were picking up a weapon and heading into battle. He felt physical things he couldn’t explain and mental things he tried to ignore and something in the vicinity of where he imagined his soul resided, and he sure as shit did not want to figure out what
that
was.

How the hell did she do this to him? All he wanted was to take her back to her place and do what their bodies had been charged up to do since they met on that hill.

Instead, he felt his eyes shutter closed on a frustrated exhale as he plucked through the minefield of feelings and picked some unloaded words. “I feel completely attracted to you, Arielle, and ready to take this to the next natural place.” He kissed her fingers. “If you don’t want to spend the night with me, I get that. Won’t stop me from asking, though.”

“I just wondered if, with me, you feel anything different from, you know, other girls.”

Was she asking if he thought they were—or he was—that “one” she talked about? He wanted to know, but then again, he really didn’t.

“Luke,” she said before he could answer. “I don’t spend the night with…anyone.” She lowered her hand and tried to look down, but he still had her delicate face in his palms, so he kept her chin raised, and she had to meet his gaze. “I’m celibate,” she whispered.

If he hadn’t
seen
her say the word, he might not have believed that’s what she said.

Celibate
.

“Okay,” he said slowly, drawing out the two syllables. “That’s…good.”

She gave him a look, lifting one brow. “Good is not a word I’d use to describe this state of affairs.”

That was a relief. “No? I can help you, then.” He tried to inch her closer. “I have what you need.”

But she didn’t move, except for the tiniest shake of her head, which sent a thud of disappointment into his gut. And lower.

“No,” she breathed the word.

“Is it…me?” he asked.

Her eyes flashed, and she fought a smile. “I don’t know.”

Laughing, he leaned back, expecting a sting of rejection, but feeling only…hope. That was weird, but that’s what he felt, and she was the one talking about feelings. “Any chance you’ll change your mind?”

“Every chance.”

Hope, and a few other things, rose. “What’ll I have to do? More dates? Flowers? Bared soul? Oh…” The realization hit him. “Stop the building project.”

“No!” She gasped a little. “I mean, that’s not what you’d have to do. Those two things—the situation with that land and my wanting to be with you—they’re separate.”

Were they? “But you do want to be with me?”

“Of course,” she laughed. “Isn’t that obvious?”

Not at the moment. “Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is…well, it’s not a problem. It’s a promise. To myself and to…no, really, to myself.”

He waited, watching the emotions dance over her features, the process of her brain and heart searching for whatever words she needed as pretty as everything else about her.

“What’s the promise?” he asked.

“I’m waiting for…someone special.”

Exactly what he was afraid of. “And I’m not special.”

“You are, but…” He watched her swallow, fighting with a lot of emotions he didn’t quite understand. “The next, and last and only, person I’m ever going to sleep with will be the one man I’m destined to…love.”

Luke jerked at the impact of the last whispered word. Tried to breathe. Braced for his body to jump and run screaming into the night. He opened his mouth to tell her that he would never, ever use that word with a woman. That he had once and it had ended badly. So, so badly. He wanted to tell her he made a promise, too. To himself. He would never, ever,
ever
go near anything that looked or tasted or felt like
love
.

Instead, he just stood, because this date was over.

Chapter Thirteen

Stricken.

The word had landed on Ari’s heart when she’d made her confession the night before, as loud and clear as the universe could be. It had remained there while she’d ended her date with Luke with all the lightness and casualness she could muster.

And no arguments from him. They’d driven home, made small talk by mutual, silent consent, and said good-bye with a chaste kiss at the bottom of the stairs that led up to her apartment.

And all night, alone in bed, she kept hearing the same word in her head.

He’d looked positively
stricken
by the fact that she was looking for love—expecting it, really. And waiting for it.

“Knock, knock.”

Ari looked up from her desk in the Barefoot Brides office to see the bright eyes and easy smile of Lacey Walker.

“Good morning, Lacey,” Ari said, rising to greet the woman who wasn’t her boss, but definitely had the final word on everything that happened at the resort.

“Is it?” Lacey cruised into the office, gathering a handful of reddish-blond curls as she slipped into one of the chairs at the conference table. “I think I slept two hours last night.”

“You don’t look it.” Lacey somehow never appeared truly exhausted by her giant job. “Did Elijah have a bad night?” Ari asked, referring to the adorable toddler who often visited the Casa Blanca administrative offices, much to everyone’s delight.

“Elijah slept like the baby he is,” Lacey said with a laugh. “Don’t believe people who tell you the little ones cost you sleep. It was my teenage daughter who had me up all night finishing college applications.”

“Ashley’s going to college next year?”

Lacey looked skyward. “If the apps made it. Of course she was submitting within ten minutes of the deadline.” She shook her head and laughed. “That girl will be the death of me.” She glanced around. “You all alone today?”

“Gussie’s on her way in, and Willow is…” Ari put her hands up and looked toward the heavens. “Cruising around the Keys and the Bahamas on Nate Ivory’s yacht.”

“Speaking of one of our resident billionaires.” Lacey waved a manila file folder. “I see his wedding to Liza Lemanski is on the schedule for spring. Which is why I popped over here.”

“Is there a problem with the date?” Ari asked. “He really wants it to coincide with the opening of the minor league stadium.”

“No problem at all!” Lacey exclaimed. “It’s going to be an amazing, high-profile wedding with all manner of celebrities showing up. The new villas we’ve added will be done, and we’ll need every one, and a ramped-up staff. Honestly, I just came over to sing your praises. The Barefoot Brides is helping this resort be extremely profitable.”