Bennett slid an arm around my torso and tucked my body against him. His large hand locked into place above my hip, fingers splaying against the thin fabric of my light blue sundress. Warmth flooded my body from head to toe.
“Have a nice evening, ladies.” He lobbed another devastatingly charming smile in their direction and turned us ninety degrees, beginning to pull me away from the table. I wanted to be annoyed—should have been annoyed—but my body had other ideas.
“See you in the morning for brunch,” I called over my shoulder. Quinn cheerfully echoed my sentiment, but not everyone was as enthusiastic in their reply—namely Millie, whose laser-like stare practically burned a hole in the back of my head.
Taking smooth, determined strides, Bennett steered us through the lounge and toward the door like a man on a mission. Only, I had no idea what his mission was.
“What are you doing?” I asked under my breath.
“Like I said,” he repeated, “we need to talk.”
A non-answer answer, but it was typical for him to be infuriatingly vague.
“About what?”
His gaze cut over to me, dark brow lowered. “Not here.”
Maneuvering around tables, I matched Bennett’s brisk pace while my brain scrambled to find an explanation, coming up empty-handed. I hadn’t expected him to come back from the club early, let alone drag me out of the tiki bar like it was on fire. Especially not after I’d given him the cold shoulder all evening.
My stomach skydived, confusion giving way to apprehension. Was that why he came back? To initiate another petty squabble? And if so, would it be a real argument or a re-enactment of our weird, scantily clad standoff in the hotel bathroom?
Lately, I couldn’t tell whether we were fighting or flirting. If anything, it was a paradoxical blend of both—hate-flirting, which had nearly escalated past the flirting stage on more than one occasion recently.
I was both relieved and dismayed that it hadn’t.
Pressed up against his towering frame, I drew in a steadying breath, but I was still hopelessly off balance. Being caught in his orbit had a destabilizing effect, like gravity drawing me directly and inescapably toward him.
Then I reminded myself of the gigantic scarlet billboard that had appeared earlier today, warning me to steer clear of this man in bold-letter print. Nina’s appearance was a wakeup call from the universe, trying to shove me out of dangerous territory and back onto the straight and narrow.
A little late for that now, though. I was firmly in dangerous territory and firmly enjoying it. It was easier to keep Bennett at arms’ length when he wasn’t literally at arms’ length—like right now, with his firm muscle caging me in from the left and his possessive hold on me from the right, I didn’t stand a chance.
We stepped outside, greeted by warm, humid air and the faint crashing of waves against the shore. A couple hanging lanterns glowed against the darkness, their cones of golden light casting long shadows against the pavement. I took a step to my right, moving to take the path that led back to our hotel room, but Bennett tugged me in the other direction, leading us down a small set of stairs to the beach.
White moonlight cast down on the water along the shore, reflecting off the surface. The heels of my shoes sank into the sand, and I came to a stop, slipping them off. Bending down, I picked up my sandals with one hand while Bennett’s hand lingered on my bare shoulder, evidently unwilling to let go.
“Where are we going?” I glanced up at him questioningly.
“Shortcut back to the room.” He jutted his chin at some indeterminate point off in the distance. “It’s faster to go down to the fitness center and cut across.”
I stood back up, and his hand found the curve of my waist again. My heart fluttered in response, tapping Morse code against the wall of my chest.
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
He nudged me along with his elbow. “This is not a public conversation.”
Nervousness bubbled up within me like a bottle of shaken Dom Pérignon. What did that even mean? Aside from us, the beach was deserted, not exactly what I’d call public.
A glimpse in his direction revealed little. Beneath the pale moonlight, his strong jaw was set and his dark eyes were determined, but his expression was otherwise unreadable.
With minimal conversation aside from Bennett’s one- and two-word directions, we resumed walking and reached the building that housed our hotel room in less than half the time I’d expected. He’d been right about the shortcut, at least.
Without missing a beat, Bennett pulled out his key card and swiped it, shoving open the door and placing a hand along the small of my back to usher me inside. I brushed past him, trying to pretend like I wasn’t nearly as fazed as I was—but my heart was drumming against my ribcage so violently I thought it might crack.
I set down my metallic sandals next to the mirrored closet, using the opportunity to quickly check my reflection. My makeup was intact, hair still in loose waves, and I didn’t look nearly as nervous as I felt. Then I made the mistake of looking at him through the mirror and my nerves shot through the roof like a bottle of champagne being uncorked. Tall, dark, and devastating. He was intimidation in human form, especially with this newfound intensity I couldn’t interpret.
Bennett shut the hotel room door behind him, locking the deadbolt, and in a heartbeat, he was standing in front of me. I lifted my chin to find a stern frown across his handsome face. Unfortunately, stern was a good look on him. My ‘straight and narrow’ plan went right out the window—the crooked path was far, far more appealing.
My mouth went dry, along with my reserve of willpower. “What—”
Bennett shook his head almost imperceptibly and took a step forward, into my space. I stepped back and he walked me a few more paces backward until we were standing in the small kitchenette. He picked me up, effortlessly hoisting me onto the glossy granite surface. I drew in a breath as the cold stone seeped through the flimsy material of my dress, chilling the back of my thighs.
He leaned in so we were eye to eye, and his hands landed on either side of the counter, pinning me in. Our gazes locked as he studied me, his tongue skimming along his bottom teeth as if in thought, pausing before he spoke.
“You’re upset with me,” he said.
“No.” I was lots of things, that just wasn’t one of them. Insane, possibly. Yes—definitely insane, because right now I could not tear my eyes away from his full lips. Could not stop wishing those strong hands were on my body again. Could not stop imagining his mouth against mine, fingers tangled in my hair…
Could not even formulate a multi-syllable response, apparently.
Bennett raised his eyebrows pointedly. “Yes.”
“I’m not.”
Scared of him and whatever I was feeling? Absolutely.
Upset with myself for developing feelings for the wrong person? Maybe.
But upset with him? Technically, I wasn’t.
His gaze darkened. “You keep telling yourself that, but I’m not buying it. I’m not moving until you talk to me, and I’ve got all night.”
“Guess you’ll be standing here for a while, then.”
“Are you upset because of what happened with Nina?” He tilted his head, and his eyes slowly traced my face, methodical and probing, assessing me in a way that made me feel naked while fully clothed. I clenched my jaw and tried not to visibly react, but I knew it was futile; I’d never successfully lied to Bennett before. I sure as hell wasn’t going to magically start now.
“Of course not,” I said, using considerable effort to keep my voice even. “Why would I be?”
A ghost of a smirk played on his lips “Are you jealous?”
“Jealous of someone you forgot? No, Bennett. Quite the opposite.”
And just like that, I had revealed too much. I clamped my mouth shut, but I couldn’t take back what I’d said.
His breath caught. “You don’t actually think—” He reached up, gently tracing along my jawline with his fingers. A shiver of pleasure ran down my spine at the contact. “Thay.”
“What?” I whispered.
“I could never forget you.”
Something bittersweet washed over me, tugging at my heart like nostalgia mixed with hope. I closed my eyes and shrugged, at a loss for what to say. I was expecting aggressive Bennett, or joking-around Bennett. I didn’t know what to do with this new, sincere version.
His thumb skimmed my cheek, moving to trace my lower lip. Somehow, the softness of his touch demolished the walls around my heart like a wrecking ball, rendering me more vulnerable than ever. And I hated it.
“Why do you think I’m here?” he asked softly.
I peeked up at him. “To spy on Adam?”
“Fringe benefit,” Bennett admitted, lips quirking into a grim smile. “But that isn’t the real reason, and I think you know it.”
Part of me wanted to believe him, but another part of me was too scared to allow myself to take that leap of faith. I had too many questions, too many things I wanted to ask but couldn’t seem to say. My brain had ceased operations, solely guided by the cascade of hormones coursing through my veins.
Survival instincts took one last swing, flailing desperately, but I knew it was a strike before I even spoke.
“We hate each other, remember?”
His expression sobered, and he tilted my chin up to face him. “I never said I hated you. Not once.”
Bennett ducked closer, and his mouth hovered inches away from mine, breath warm against my lips. His other hand wrapped around my lower back, holding me in place. My hands flew to his bare forearms, holding on as if for balance while desire coiled between my legs. I was past the point of no return. I couldn’t even see it.
