The rumble of his laugh vibrated through both their bodies, and to her dismay, her nipples responded.
“I’m not familiar with every American law, but I don’t think that third one exists. If it does, though, consider me a conscientious objector.” He gave her shin, currently resting somewhere along his flat belly, a pat. “And don’t worry. You’re not the first woman I’ve infuriated, and I’m certain you won’t be the last.”
She couldn’t resist. “I’m certain of that as well.”
He laughed again, and she found her lips twitching too.
“So what brings you to the island?” To her relief, he didn’t wiggle or take advantage of his position in any way. Instead, he seemed to be keeping close watch on the kids only a few feet away. “Are you celebrating something, or just taking a topless vacation?”
Nipping at his neck in retaliation for his smartass remark was not a good idea, she reminded herself. “I’m here with a friend to celebrate my birthday. I turn forty tomorrow.”
The number didn’t bother her, because it didn’t alter one iota of her demanding but comfortable life. It only marked the passage of time—time better spent achieving her professional goals than bemoaning the inevitable creep of age.
Besides, she liked those sparse threads of silver that had begun to appear in her hair. She was choosing to consider them free highlights.
“Happy early birthday, Ms. …” Pausing so she could fill in the rest, he turned his head until she could see his profile. His smile.
“Dunn. But under the circumstances, I think you can call me Tess.” She lowered her right hand to grab one of his and gave it an awkward shake. “Nice to meet you.”
“I’m Lucas Karlsson.” He let go of her hand and hesitated. “But maybe you already knew that?”
Cocky son of a gun. “Sadly, word of your good looks and charm hasn’t spread throughout the entire resort yet. Give it a few more days.”
“Fair enough.”
He didn’t sound offended. If anything, his shoulders seemed to drop a fraction.
“So why are you here, Lucas? And where are you visiting from?”
Good. She was getting this conversation back on impersonal footing, despite the way his satiny back caressed her breasts and how easily her legs cradled his narrow hips.
“I’m originally from Sweden, although I’ve lived in the U.S. for a few years. Miami, most recently. I became a permanent resident last year.” His hand swirled beneath the surface of a gentle wave. “I’m here for this beautiful water, I suppose. Sun. Sand. Relaxation.”
That explained the vaguely-British-but-not accent, although she wouldn’t have guessed Sweden. Then again, she probably shouldn’t take her linguistic cues from a Muppet spouting gibberish and hitting pretend meatballs with a tennis racket.
“Are you celebrating something?” she asked.
Jeez, she hadn’t even considered whether he might be here with someone else. The fact that he’d eagerly volunteered to hold her naked breasts didn’t preclude a significant other, and she didn’t want that someone to catch her plastered to Lucas’s back.
This little farce was enough drama for the entire vacation. She didn’t need more.
“Nope.” His voice sounded tight, for some reason. “Not a thing.”
That tanned, strong hand in the water…it was scarred. A neat T marked the wrist. And if she squinted, she could see something on the opposite wrist too. Another mark of…something. Surgery?
Not her business. “Well, I hope the rest of your trip goes well.”
“I don’t think my time here will get much better than this, to be honest.” She could hear the grin in his voice. “Consider yourself a highlight of my sojourn on the island.”
“How long are you staying?”
Would she see him around the resort again? Did she want to?
She shouldn’t. Scratch that, she didn’t. He was a cocky twenty-something bro from Sweden, and she was a comfortably settled American thirty-nine-year-old contemplating the purchase of reading glasses. They had nothing in common, not in temperament or life experiences.
He shrugged, his skin sliding under her hands. “For another while yet. I’m not sure how long.”
Another sign of the vast gulf between them. If he was staying indefinitely at the resort, he clearly didn’t have a full-time job, and he clearly had plenty of money.
Neither of those things detracted from the kindness he’d shown her, however. “Good for you. I have to get back to school in two weeks. Students and teachers may get the summers off, but we don’t.”
When he turned his head again, she caught a glimpse of his stubbled cheek. Seen up close, it was craggier than she’d expected, and he had slight bags under his eyes.
Maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe he was older than she’d—
He interrupted her thoughts. “Do you enjoy your work?”
“I do, actually. Quite a bit. I love the staff and the kids at my school. I want to become the principal soon, if I can.” How to explain her feelings to someone like him? “How old are you?”
“Twenty-six.”
Ah. Just as she’d initially thought. Although his features seemed a little more worn than she’d have expected for such a young man. For a moment, she’d wondered whether—
Well, it didn’t matter.
“Establishing myself in a profession I love has been a joy and a privilege, Lucas. The greatest of my life. Once you’ve worked for a few years—” She paused and rephrased, uncomfortable with the implication he hadn’t been working. Maybe he was one of those young tech entrepreneurs and could simply afford an extended vacation. He didn’t really seem like the type, but what did she know? “Or for a few more years, I hope you have that experience too.”
He didn’t respond, and the silence grew uncomfortable.
Dammit. Of course he didn’t want to talk about the satisfaction and meaning she found in her career. He’d asked a polite question, and she should have simply given him a polite, surface-only answer, not a too-personal motivational speech.
Time to lighten the mood. “I’ll bet I sounded like your mom just now.”
There. She’d given him the perfect opening to tease her about her advanced age.
His back lifted and lowered beneath her as he took a deep breath. Then he gave her foot a little squeeze, and she squeaked.
“Believe me, you don’t remind me of my mom.” His voice was warm, and she let it surround and comfort her like her favorite quilted blanket. “For one thing, you’re—”
For a single foolish instant, she was sure he was going to say something like hot. Or stacked. Or sexy. No offense to his mom, who was probably all of those things too, at least in the eyes of people who weren’t her offspring.
“—ticklish,” he finished.
Then he was flicking his fingers over the soles of her feet as she laughed helplessly. And even when he stopped after a moment, his own laughter shaking his shoulders, his right hand continued to cup her foot. He held it in a light but secure clasp against his belly.
She smacked him on the arm. “Shame on you, abusing your elders like that.”
“My apologies, Assistant Principal Dunn. I couldn’t resist such cute toes.”