That was the only reason he nodded when she asked him to take a walk down the beach. He shouldn't. He should be sending her away but lacked the fortitude apparently. Five minutes. Then he'd tell her-again-that she should go find a nice doctor or lawyer and leave a guy named Dexter to contend with his demons solo.
As they strolled past the boulders marking the end of the resort property, the sudden silence stretched and he asked, "Why didn't you go back to your room with Rachel?"
Duh, obviously she was waiting for him, and that fact should not be making him grin like an escaped mental patient. But after the triumphs of the afternoon, and the genuine joy of sharing something with her that tugged at him so deeply … well, he was only human, much to his chagrin.
The essence of Emma called to him in an elemental way. It was so strong because she was so wrong for him. The ultimate paradox.
"We have unfinished business, you and I," she said and blinked those baby blues. "I seem to recall we struck a deal. If I held my head under the water, you'd strip for me. I'm here to collect."
His tongue went numb and nearly slid down the back of his throat as his whole body vibrated with the promise of her hot eyes trained on his crotch as he slid off his board shorts. "Uh, yeah. Um-"
She laughed. "I'm just kidding. I wasn't going to hold you to it. But if you wanted to, I wouldn't stop you."
His erection did not instantly subside, and it was getting a little painful. He should be making his excuses and exiting stage left. Right now. "I'll, ah, take that under advisement."
"I really wanted to thank you. You're a good snorkeling guide, and I appreciated the extra attention when you should have been working. Those other people paid good money for their excursion, and I monopolized all your time."
"Nah." His ears went hot at the sincerity in her voice. "They were in good hands with Jace. He could do that spiel blindfolded."
"You're good friends," she commented with no question mark at the end of it. "How long have you known each other?"
He shrugged. Was it that obvious that he'd been working side by side with Jace for longer than he could remember? "A while. Four, five years."
"Huh. I didn't have the impression you'd been doing this excursion gig that long." She glanced at him. "Seems like you said you ran your company with some other friends. I've never seen them. Do they work at other resorts?"
A code-red alarm went off in his head. This wasn't a random drive-by thank-you; she was fishing. For what?
"Duchess Island resort is our only contract." He kept his voice light because he couldn't figure out why she'd tripped his radar and until he did, they were just talking. "We all have a day job too, which pays our bills. Boats and equipment and stuff are expensive. So the six of us work on a reef restoration project run by a private company. Some days Jace and I take the scuba shift, and the other guys run the excursions. Depends on the day, our mood. A lot of factors."
He was babbling. Which was usually the opposite of how he handled a woman fishing for tidbits he hadn't shared on purpose. Yet another reason he should be saying sayonara. Emma had spelled danger from that first moment he'd seen her testing her will against the surf and not backing down, yet he'd ignored the sound of conscience screaming at him. He'd invented excuse after excuse to let her keep drawing him back into her orbit.
"That sounds nice. I don't have many good friends. Just Rachel. I lost contact with most people after … well, anyway." Her voice had taken on a wistful quality. "How did you all meet?"
"We served together in the navy. In Iraq," he said flatly.
And that marked the first time he'd uttered those words aloud to a woman since Malika. This occasion wouldn't end any better.
"You were in the military?" The surprise in her voice told him everything he needed to know.
"Three tours." He couldn't help the frost that had crept into his tone. Didn't want to help it. She'd started this fishing expedition. She should have considered more thoroughly what she might hook with her bait.
"That's fascinating." She wheeled around to face him and the walk part of this encounter seemed to be over. "Did you see any action?"
"This is not a date. We're not getting to know each other over drinks. If I wanted to advertise the highlights of my military career, I would have put them on my Facebook profile."
"Dex." Her throaty voice held a hint of amusement. "I'm just curious about you. If you don't want to tell me, you say, Emma, butt out."
"I thought I just did."
Instead of decking him for being such a jerk, she laughed, and it tugged a small smile from somewhere in the depths of his miserable soul.
"Touché." Her blue eyes locked on his as she reached out to caress his shoulder with her slim fingers. "So what do you talk about on a date then?"
His shoulder burned under her touch. He leaned into it ever so slightly because he couldn't stop himself from responding to her, from seeking more. From recalling the way she'd kissed him so eagerly last night in the moonlight, and how desperately he wanted to keep moving toward her.
In his current state, the slow simmer of attraction had a bite of temper mixed through it, and the resulting experience for Emma would not be very pleasant. He had a tendency to be punishing when his mood veered into territory more suited for violence than sex.
She didn't know any of these things about him, and the less she learned, the better.
"I don't date."
Dating had far too many implications that he didn't like. Such as an expectation that there might be more dates in the future. He'd never spoken to a woman postencounter, not since Malika. Not since he'd learned that the world was very unforgiving of the bodies that littered his past.
"Dex." She cocked her head. "Where do you go when you withdraw? In the water, you're a different person, more open and happy. I'd like to get to know that man and spend some time with him. This guy," She slid her palm to his chest and tapped it once with her forefinger. "Has a bad attitude and tendency to foist his assumptions on me, and I don't like it."
His temper slid off a cliff, and he tried to grasp it, digging in before he lost it completely. "You should go back to your room now. You're playing with something you don't understand."
"But I want to. That's the point."
She huffed out a little noise of frustration, but the rise and fall of her chest drew attention to her peaked nipples, which betrayed her constant state of arousal.
The simmer under his skin began to percolate the longer he internalized her desire. It wasn't fair that she was allowed to have such a simple, unvarnished reaction to someone she found desirable, and he'd been constantly forced to temper his.
Story of his life. Maybe it was time to invite someone else into his hell.
"You think you can handle it?" he challenged as he deliberately leaned into her palm, deliberately dropped every last internal barrier he employed to keep his beast under control.
"I think I proved today that I'm stronger than you thought." Her blue eyes glittered with something he couldn't look away from. "You didn't think I was going to get in the water, but I did. Maybe I can handle more than you seem to assume."
And maybe she could. The thing she didn't seem to understand was that he didn't want to be the kind of man who would force her to. He'd tried to send her away, and that hadn't worked. Obviously he needed to pull out the big guns.
"You're pushing, Emma, and I think it's time to give you a taste of what happens when you shove open that door and barge in without permission."
Lightning fast, he snaked an arm around her waist and hauled her up against him. Those peaked, hard nipples ground into his chest, exciting him. A growl rumbled in his throat as he wound his hand through her hair, snaring the locks with his fingers. Once he had a good grip, he pulled, exposing her throat to his ravenous gaze.
Pale, immaculate flesh begged for his mouth, and he didn't hold back. Fastening his lips to her skin, he tasted. His lips molded to her skin, suckling it, violating it, marking it. She gasped under the onslaught, but didn't pull away. Oh, no, his little mermaid pushed closer, sending a trail of heat down his back with her hands.
Clearly he hadn't done enough to make his point. He ran his tongue along the column of her throat, up to her ear, and still he wanted more. He guided her face toward his and took her mouth in a hard, relentless kiss that was more instructional than it was passionate.
She needed to learn what he was capable of.
Her lips were pliant under his, open and inviting, and he groaned as her sweetness exploded on his tongue. Deeper. It wasn't a choice, but a primal need that he suddenly couldn't control as she scrabbled at his back for purchase with her fingers, as if she was just as overcome as he was.