Island Affair (Keys to Love #1)(7)
Luis’s dark gaze slowly traveled from her head, down to her toes, and back up again. Heat spread through her as if he’d physically touched her.
She was used to people watching her, taking pictures at conferences and speaking engagements. Some were looking to find fault. Plenty others were awed. In her line of work, she invited the interest. The more likes and shares and followers, the better.
And yet, with Luis, his perusal felt different. Personal.
Her request would make it even more so.
“While you, what?”
His deep, warm voice rumbled over her. It reminded Sara of lazy mornings snuggling in bed after a night that left the sheets tangled and bodies sated.
She shivered at the seductive image. Then quickly reminded herself she had no business entertaining such thoughts. Not when she was about to make him what she hoped to consider a business proposition.
Well, crap. Proposition wasn’t quite the word she wanted to use. It sounded suggestive. Too lurid. Too— Doubts screamed like banshees in her ears. Pressing a hand to her forehead, Sara squeezed her eyes shut, grasping for one of the tools she had learned in therapy when her mind threatened to spin out of control. Positives. Think about the positive angles here.
She ran a successful small business. Hired people for short-term contracts all the time. Granted, they were typically photographers or stylists, but the role of a fake boyfriend could potentially be considered along the same lines as an extra in a photo shoot. Couldn’t it?
Oh my god, what the hell was she thinking?
“Sara, how are you different from your family?”
Luis’s soft question broke into her mental downward spiral. The kind of spiral that had gotten her into trouble in the past.
Lowering her arm, she peeked at him through her lashes.
He’d crossed his jeans-clad legs and relaxed against his truck’s front bumper. One dusty black work boot rested heel to toe on top of the other. A man with time on his hands, if what he’d said earlier was true.
In spite of her undoubtedly odd behavior, his whole demeanor remained calm, patient. It vibrated off him, weirdly quieting her misgivings.
“How am I different?” she repeated his question, keeping the let me count the ways to herself when he nodded.
For someone who projected confidence and poise to those who followed her career, it was uncanny how easily talk of her family could suck those traits right out of her. It didn’t, however, mean she couldn’t fake them when needed. She’d had plenty of practice with that over the years.
Tossing her head so the humid breeze would comb her hair out of her eyes, Sara answered, “Let’s just say, unlike my family, the closest I ever came to being a doctor was the Halloween I dressed up as a sexy physician for a sorority social my sophomore year at Arizona State.”
After a stunned second, Luis threw back his head and laughed. The deep, throaty sound startled a white and gray pigeon pecking the ground nearby. The bird flew off, wings flapping as it soared over the cream stucco building.
A nervous giggle pushed up Sara’s throat. She pressed her fingers to her mouth as if that would stop the awkward sound from escaping. Luis’s laughter slowed to a deep chuckle. His dark eyes sparked with amusement. The crow’s-feet crinkling their corners merely added to his rugged charm.
“I’m sorry.” He knuckled the moisture from one of his eyes. “Really. I’m not laughing at you. I just did not expect you to say that.”
“Believe me, my highly respectable parents, one of whom is Chief Pediatric Surgeon on medical leave and the other Chief Cardiothoracic Surgeon, both at Phoenix General, did not find the pictures too amusing.”
Luis tucked his thumbs in his front pockets, one dark brow quirked at an angle she found oh, so sexy. “I’m betting you looked pretty hot in that outfit, though.”
“Damn straight. It won me best dressed at the party.”
His answering chuckle loosened the knot of stress tightening her chest. If all else failed, she could thank Luis for the momentary distraction that had quieted the negativity in her head.
Angling her body to the side, she stared off in the distance, past the parking garage in front of the tiny airport. Across an expansive grassy area, a small redbrick fortress lush with vegetation sat on the edge of the main road that butted up against the open ocean. A sailboat floated on the water, a lone figure standing near the mast. The white sail billowed in the breeze as the ocean wind pushed the boat farther away.
The idea of sailing off into the sunset, not facing her parents’ . . . really, her mom’s . . . disappointment and guilt held intense appeal. She was so tired of chasing her mother’s approval. Angry at the unhealthy decisions that chase had led her to make. And yet, the longing for that approval remained. Needing that validation was what had first driven her to start— No!
Shaking her head, Sara halted thoughts of her disorder and the circumstances that led her to think those decisions were the answer. They no longer held sway over her. Sure, she may have backslid a little while her mom was going through chemo. Fear of losing her, of never having another chance to make her proud, had triggered the beginnings of a spiral. But no one other than Sara’s therapist knew about the slipup. She planned to keep it that way.
“So, your medically-inclined family is about to descend and your boyfriend—”
“Ex-boyfriend,” she emphasized, swiveling her head to face Luis again.