The Paternity Proposition(33)

Yet with Phoebe, all was new. She laughed with delight as waves rolled close and lapped at her feet. She'd rolled up the legs of her slacks, exposing her slender ankles. He studied the naked skin, amazed that he felt aroused gazing at her. She was completely dressed except for her bare feet and he wanted her.

Twenty-three, he reminded himself. She was only twenty-three. No younger than he had suspected, but younger than he had hoped.

"Is there a coral reef?" Phoebe asked.

"Not on this side of the island, but on the north end. The area is more protected there. Do you dive?"

She wrinkled her nose. "I'm assuming you mean skin diving. I've never done it. I don't know that I could. Just the thought of being trapped underwater makes me nervous."

As she spoke, she pulled her braid over her shoulder so the length of blond hair lay against her chest. She unfastened the ribbon, then finger-combed her hair so it fluttered loose around her face.

Sunlight illuminated the side of her face, highlighting her perfect bone structure. If she were any other woman of his acquaintance, he would have assumed she was going for an effect, but with Phoebe, he wasn't so sure. While he still thought she might be playing a game with him, several hours in her company had made him stop wondering about the sincerity of her innocence. She blushed too easily for someone at home in the world. And if she was as inexperienced as he suspected, then she was in danger of being taken advantage of by someone....

Someone like himself, he thought grimly. Someone who could easily pluck the flower of her womanhood, savor its sweetness, then discard it.

He did not consider himself a bad person. Perhaps Phoebe had been sent into his life as a test of that theory. Perhaps he was taking this too seriously. He should simply enjoy her company for the day, return her to her hotel that afternoon and forget he'd ever met her. That would be the wisest course of action.

"The ocean is very different here," Phoebe said as they continued to walk along the beach. "I don't have a lot of experience, but I know the color of the water is different than it is in Florida. Of course, the color is often a reflection of how shallow the water is. Around the gulf coast there are places you can wade out forever. Is it deeper here around the island?"

"Three sides are deep. The north end of the island is quite shallow."

Phoebe sighed softly to herself. Why couldn't she talk about something more interesting? Here she was strolling along a beautiful beach next to a charming man and she babbled on about ocean depth. Be brilliant, she ordered herself. Unfortunately she didn't have a lot of experience in the brilliant department.

"Would you like to have a seat?" he asked when they reached a cluster of rocks sticking out of the white sand.

She nodded and followed him to a flat rock warm from the sun. She dumped her shoes and purse on the sand, then slid next to him, careful to make sure they didn't touch. A light breeze teased at her hair and made goose bumps break out on her wet feet.

"Tell me about your great-aunt," he said. "What was her life like here on the island?"

Phoebe drew one knee to her chest and wrapped her arms around her leg. "Her mother owned a beauty shop in town and Ayanna learned to be a hairdresser there. When she was eighteen she went to work in the Parrot Bay Inn. Apparently back then it was an international hot spot."

Mazin grinned. "I have heard many stories about 'the old days,' as my father would call them. When people flew in from all over the world to spend a week or two in the Lucia-Serrat sun."                       
       
           



       

"Ayanna said the same thing. She was young and beautiful, and she wanted a great romantic adventure."

"Did she find it?"

Phoebe hesitated. "Well, sort of. There were several men who wanted to marry her. She became engaged to one or two, always breaking it off. One of the men insisted she keep the ring. It was a lovely ruby ring. She wore it often." She smiled at the memory.

"If she broke the engagements, then they weren't romantic adventures," he said.

"You're right. I know the great love of her life was the crown prince. Apparently they were in love with each other, even though he was married. Eventually people found out and there was a great scandal. In the end, Ayanna had to leave."

Mazin gazed out toward the ocean. "I remember hearing something about that. Despite being such an old man, I was not alive then."

"You're not so very old."

He nodded regally. "I'm pleased you think so."

She wasn't sure if he was teasing or not. "I don't think Ayanna ever heard from the prince again. She never admitted anything to me, but I have always suspected that in her heart of hearts she thought he would come find her. So her romance has an unhappy ending."

"She lived in your country for many years. Didn't she marry?"

Phoebe shook her head. "There were always men who wanted her, right up until she died. But although she enjoyed their company, she never loved any of them."

"Did they love her?"

"Absolutely. She was wonderful. Charming, intelligent, funny and so lovely in every respect."

He turned toward her, then placed his index finger under her chin. "I would imagine you look much like her."

Phoebe's eyes widened in surprise. "Not at all. Ayanna was a great beauty. I don't look anything like her."

How could he pretend to think she could even compare to Ayanna?

"You have a lovely face," he murmured, more to himself than her. "Your eyes are the color of the sea on a cloudless day, your skin is as soft as silk."

Phoebe felt heat flaring on her cheeks. Telling herself he wasn't really complimenting her didn't stop her from being embarrassed. She felt like some hick straight off the farm, with hay in her hair.

She pulled back slightly so that he wasn't touching her. "Yes, well, you're very kind, but it's hard to ignore facts. I'm too tall and too skinny. Half the time I think I look like a boy more than a grown woman. It's fairly disheartening."

Mazin gazed at her. His dark eyes seemed able to see into her soul. "I would never mistake you for a boy."

She couldn't look away. Her skin prickled as if she'd been in the sun too long. Maybe she had. Or maybe it was the island itself, weaving a magic spell around her.

"Men don't find me attractive," she said bluntly, because she couldn't think of anything else to say. "Or interesting."

"Not all men."

Was it her imagination, or had he just moved a little closer? And was it suddenly really hot?

"Some men find you very attractive."

She would have sworn he didn't actually say that last sentence, because his lips were too close to hers to be speaking. But she couldn't ask, because she was in shock. Tremendous shock. She even stopped breathing, because at that moment he kissed her.

Phoebe didn't know what to think or do. One minute she'd been sitting on a rock by the ocean trying not to babble, and the next a very handsome, very sophisticated older man was kissing her. On the lips. Which, she supposed, was where most people kissed. Just not her. Not ever. In fact-

Stop thinking!

Her mind obeyed, going blank. It was only then that she realized his mouth was still on hers, which meant they were kissing. Which left her in the awkward position of having no clue as to what was expected of her.

The contact teased, making her want to lean into him. She liked the feel of his lips against hers and the way he placed one hand on her shoulder. She felt the heat of his fingers and the way his breath brushed across her cheek. She could see the dark fan of his lashes and the hint of stubble on his cheek. He smelled like sunshine, only more masculine.

Every part of her felt extra sensitive and her mouth trembled slightly.

He broke the kiss and opened his eyes, making her think perhaps hers should have been closed.

"You did not want me to do that," he said quietly. She blinked several times. Not want her first kiss?

Was he crazy? "No, it was great."

"But you didn't respond."

Humiliation washed over her. Phoebe slid off the rock onto the sand, then reached for her shoes. Before she could grab them, Mazin was at her side. He took her hands in his and somehow compelled her to look at him.

"What aren't you telling me?" he asked.

"Nothing." Everything, she thought.

"Phoebe."

He spoke in a warning tone that made her toes curl into the sand. She swallowed, then blurted the truth out all at once, or at least as much of it as she was willing to confess.

"I don't have a lot of experience with men. I never dated in high school, because I didn't fit in. Then Ayanna got sick and I spent the four years nursing her. That didn't leave time for a social life-not that I wanted one. The past six months I've been sad. So I'm not really good at the whole kissing thing."                       
       
           



       

She stopped talking and hoped he would buy her explanation without figuring out that no man had ever kissed her before.