Lie to Me (Pearl Island Trilogy #4)(30)

A gust of wind blew her hair into her face. She raised her hand to push it away just as he did the same. Their fingers touched as their hands moved together. When her face came back into view, he found himself standing closer to her, his hand in her hair. Her smile fell away as she gazed up at him, invitation filling her incredible hazel eyes.

Lowering his head, he touched his lips to hers. She leaned into the kiss and her lips moved against his. His head spun as his tongue slipped into her welcoming mouth. She tasted so sweet. He wanted to pull her into his arms and feel her body mold against his, the way he’d felt it last night.

Before he could deepen the kiss further, she pulled back. Her eyes danced with promise. “How about I show you the rest of the island?”

“I’d like that,” he managed, his voice thick.

“Then, if you’re interested…” She trailed her fingertips over his jaw. “I have some wine at my cottage. We can sit out on my deck and you can tell me all about this tournament you want to host here.”





Chapter 9





“Do you need any help in the kitchen?” Luc asked as they entered Chloe’s cottage later.

“No way.” Her eyes sparkled with laughter as she pressed a hand to his chest, playfully holding him off. His plan to not get distracted by more kisses had failed miserably during the tour of the island since they’d stopped to kiss at nearly every guest room and bungalow she showed him. “I know what will happen if you follow me into the kitchen,” she told him. “We’ll starve.”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” He thought about pulling her into his arms, but remembering the plan, he resisted.

As if determined to foil his good intentions, she stepped up against him and pressed her mouth to his. To his disappointment, her lips remained closed and she pulled back before he could deepen the kiss.

“Behave,” she chastised, her eyes sparkling as she walked backward. “At least for a few minutes while I throw some munchies together.”

“If you insist.” He grinned as she vanished behind a wall, into the kitchen, he assumed. His breath released in a rush, which did little to cool his body. Or mind. He couldn’t believe how comfortable he’d started to feel around her.

Man, though, he needed to slow down. He could hear her rummaging through the refrigerator and decided to distract himself by checking out her place. The living room had a fresh, beachy vibe with soft blue walls. Photography magazines lay in a neat fan on an old trunk that served as a coffee table. That piqued his curiosity, making him take a closer look at all the photos he saw around the room, from those in easel-back frames on the end tables to the multitude of pictures that had been hung in a gallery-style grouping on the wall.

He noted that none of the photographs were family snapshots or vacation pictures. They were all artistic shots: beach scenes, cloudscapes, close ups of sea shells and flowers. Some had people, mostly the children, but the people were part of the composition, not the focal point.

“Are these photos your work?” he asked.

“It’s kind of a hobby,” she answered, still rummaging in the kitchen.

“They’re really good,” he told her, impressed. The one consistent element in all of them was light, the way sunlight reflected off the water, lit the clouds, shone through leaves, spotlighted a single objected. She photographed light. “Do you sell these?”

“Someday, maybe. Right now, I’m still learning.”

“Hey, all artists are still learning,” he told her. “It’s a process, not an accomplishment.”

“I hadn’t thought of it that way. As for munchies, I can throw together a selection of cheeses, cured meat, crudités, and bruschetta.”

His brows shot up. “That’s your idea of munchies?”

“’Fraid so.” Her heavy sigh sounded apologetic. “If you want something more like junk food, I could raid the pantry at the inn. Except, I doubt they have much in the way of store bought chips and dip.”

“No, what you have sounds amazing.” Unable to resist, he went around the wall, into the small dining area, so he could see into the kitchen. He found Chloe standing on the other side of a breakfast bar, eyeing the selection of food she’d laid out on the counter. “Wow, you keep your kitchen well stocked.”

“Spoken like a true bachelor.” She smiled at him. “Since we’re having tapas, what’s your choice for wine? Red or white?”

“Red,” he said.

“If you want to pick one out, the wine rack is behind you.” She pulled a pair of stemmed glasses from a cabinet.

“I can do that.” He spotted the rack next to an antique buffet. Perusing it, he found a nice variety. “How about this Sonoma Valley pinot noir?”

“Sounds perfect.”

While he opened the bottle, she went about slicing a baguette for the bruschetta. He poured a glass and carried it around the bar. The small kitchen gave him an excuse to stand close to her. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” she said, and took a sip. Her eyes closed in pleasure. “Mmm, that is good.”

His gaze dropped to her lower lip, where a drop of wine clung.

“Let me see.” He lowered his mouth to hers, his lips parting just enough to capture her lower lip. “Tastes even better like that.”