"I'll take a look around," I grumbled.
"Good. I'll cook lunch." His footsteps tapered off as he disappeared beyond a door.
I saluted his back and said, "Yes, sir." I dug the tape measure out of my bag and began working. By taking measurements of the room, I would know how many people could fit combined with just how many decorations I could use.
Half an hour later, I had a list composed. Instead of planning for the party, however, I noted every corner, crevice and room where I wanted to have sex with Royce.
I went to the kitchen to begin my seduction.
Unnoticed by Royce, I stood silently off to the side, watching him putter around. I couldn't help but notice the way his arm muscles flexed when he reached for bowls. The way he sucked in his upper lip as he concentrated. A rich, warm aroma floated past my nostrils and my stomach growled.
Royce placed a large dish on the table.
"You cooked lasagna?" I asked, incredulous.
"Are you kidding?" he said, flicking me a glance. "I didn't want you to suffer another bout of food poisoning." He grinned with wry humor. "I paid someone to come out here. She stocked the fridge, took care of the Jacuzzi. All that stuff."
I didn't care who made the lasagna, as long as I could eat it. My stomach rumbled again.
"Hungry?"
"Ravenous." In only ten minutes, I gobbled up the delicious pasta and consumed four glasses of juice. Royce had barely touched his food.
"Hurry up and eat," I told him. "When you're done, we can get naked." The last was spoken in a throaty purr.
"No thanks." He quickly turned his attention to his plate.
Everything about him, from the way he looked to the way he moved, promised pleasure, and I was going to collect.
When he finally finished eating, he stood and carried our plates to the sink. Once back at the table, he took me by the hands and pulled me up to my full height.
"Come on." He tugged me toward the door. "Let's go outside. There's a swing on the back porch."
"No, let's stay in." I focused my weight into my feet, bringing us to a quick halt. "I'd rather sit in the Jacuzzi. The bubbles will feel so good against my skin."
"I didn't bring a swimsuit."
I licked my lips. "Neither did I."
He jolted away from me as if I'd singed him. "I, uh, think I'll take a nap instead." He gave a feigned yawn. "I'm tired from all that driving."
"Don't be a baby. We're adults, and we can swim together without it being sexual." If he believed that, he'd be inside me within the hour.
He frowned. "How do you suggest we go about this?"
"Nude, of course."
"I don't think so," he replied, folding his arms over his chest. "That's about as sexual as two people can get." A bead of sweat trickled down his temples as he stared at my hardened nipples. He gulped. "Yeah, bad idea."
I crossed my arms over my chest, too. The battle lines were drawn. "I thought you liked to be daring. We're boyfriend and girlfriend now. We can get naked together. It's acceptable."
"No."
"Where's your sense of adventure?"
"I left it at home."
I gave him a pointed once-over, even took a step closer. "Tsk, tsk, tsk," I clicked under my tongue. "I think you're lying."
He continued to back away. This trip had been his idea. I hadn't wanted to come, but I think I'd successfully managed to switch our viewpoints. "Stop it, Naomi."
"Are you afraid you can't stick to your principles?" I reached out and traced a fingertip over his erection. "If you can't, I promise I'll still respect you in the morning."
The hard, thick length of him jerked at my first touch. He squeezed his eyes closed. "You're not playing fair."
"I want you to touch me," I said. "I'll do whatever it takes to make that happen."
"What happened to the woman who was determined not to sleep with me?" The lines around his mouth were taut, and he stretched his shirt collar with two fingers.
Daring, bold, I pressed myself against him fully. Chest to chest. Hardness to softness. "Please go swimming with me, Royce. I'm dying to get into that water, to feel it lap against me. It's not like we haven't seen each other naked before."
"That was different," he said, streams of sweat now dripping from his temples.
I placed a featherlight kiss on his chin. "Different how?"
"It just was."
My teeth ground together, and I released him, stepping backward. At this rate, the stubborn man might be able to refuse me all night. I had to try a different angle. "If you don't want to swim, why don't we play a game?"
His shoulders relaxed, and he even managed a half smile. "What do you want to play?"
"How about strip poker?"
Losing all traces of that smile, he paled and shook his head. "No."
"What about twenty questions?"
I could see the wheels turning in his head as he calculated just how sexual that game could be. Obviously (and foolishly) he decided I couldn't do much damage, because he nodded and said, "All right. Twenty questions."
Grinning internally, I led him to the only sofa in the cabin. A black leather lounge made for pleasure. He claimed one side, I claimed the other.
"Why don't I go first?" I suggested.
He eased back and nodded.
I crawled my hands toward him and leaned over until I was merely a breath away. "If I take off all your clothes, will you let me lick you all over?" I whispered next to his ear.
He almost jumped off the couch. "No!"
Oh, this game was going to be fun. I smothered my smile. "It's your turn. Ask me a question. Anything you want."
A long while passed before he spoke, and he spent every second of that time studying me, looking for…something. "How long were you and your ex-husband together?"
"Which one?"
"You were married more than once?" he shouted.
I laughed. "No, I just wanted you to ask and waste another question. I was married only once, and that was for six hellish years."
"Why did you-"
"No, no, no." My words came out in a singsong taunt. "Your turn is over. I refuse to answer another question until you answer another one of mine." Nuzzling my cheek against his shoulder, I said, "What's your naughtiest fantasy?"
"Making love to my wife."
That wiped away my grin as he intended, I'm sure. The jerk.
"Have you dated anyone since you've been single?" he asked.
"Only you. It's hot in here, don't you think?" I asked next, removing my shirt and revealing my lacy pink bra.
"Is that your question?"
"Maybe." I tossed the material aside.
Shifting in his seat, Royce's eyes roved over my clothes. Or lack thereof. "No, it's not hot, it's cold. And is that strip of cloth supposed to be a bra or a Band-Aid? The fabric is so sheer I can see your nipples," he accused.
"I know."
"Enough games," he all but shouted. "I need something to drink."
He didn't wait for my reply. He just got up, strode to the bar and downed two shots of Scotch in quick succession. I loved the way his hands shook, as if he teetered on the edge of losing control. Made me feel powerful and seductive and all woman. Something I'd only ever felt with him.
When he returned to the couch, easing beside me, I said, "You finally up for that swim?"
His gaze raked over me again and he groaned. He tunneled a stiff hand through his hair. "Give me five minutes to change," he said. Shaking his head, he stormed into the bedroom. The door slammed behind him with a resounding thud.
I laughed, muttering, "Into what?"
Not feeling an ounce of shyness, I stripped down to the skin and entered the steamy, relaxing water. Another chuckle escaped when I imagined Royce in the other room, searching frantically for some type of swim trunks.
My grin disappeared the moment he opened the door, however. He had a white cotton towel draped around his waist. It was more provocative than if he'd emerged naked. Strength emanated from him. Strength and pure sex appeal.
His gaze met mine, making sure I was watching. And then he dropped his towel.