Chapter Nine
“I’m going to take the cart back to the hotel and meet with the event coordinator,” Charity said after they were driven with all their bags and belongings to the cottage. “Now is the perfect time to make sure everything is set before the wedding party arrives.”
He nodded at her as he played with the viewfinder on his camera.
The cottage was a misnomer because it felt more like a proper house.
As promised, the bedrooms were huge with canopied king beds in each.
Both overlooked the private pool and jacuzzi with a house-wide lanai.
They were completely hidden by the local, kaleidoscope-colored flora of the island, with verdant bushes and trees that provided privacy.
The inside of the cottage boasted a sunken living area complete with a stacked bar and a wall-wide flat-screen television.
The furniture was white rattan, the cushions a floral pattern of bright and bold native flowers.
A complete kitchen, including an indoor grill, sat on one side, a full menu of groceries the hotel would provide on request.
If privacy was the point of staying here, the cottage appeared to serve its purpose well.
Charity wasn’t as concerned with sharing the space with Kolby now as she would have been if they’d been forced to occupy one lone room together.
This way, they each had ample space and wouldn’t be tripping over one another to use the bathroom, and each had their own private bedroom.
She had no desire to sleep in the same room with him.
None.
They’d both changed as soon as they’d gotten the lay of the land, Charity out of her travel clothes and into a bright yellow sundress with sandals.
She’d tugged her hair up into a high ponytail, the humidity already turning it into a frizzy mass of curls she despised.
Kolby had forgone his jeans and button down for a pair of board shorts, Tevas, and a graphic T that looked like it was around when he was in high school.
“Okay,” he said, after fiddling with the finder. “I think I’m gonna go scope out the island, try to find some spots that will be great photo ops.”
Charity crossed to the bar, lifted a brochure, and then handed it to him. “This lists all the spots on the island the resort thinks are perfect for pictures.”
He took it and shoved it into his pocket. “Thanks, but I think I’ll just explore first.”
“Up to you. Okay. I’m off.”
When she turned to go, he said, “Wait.”
“What?”
“Want to do anything for dinner? Brialy said the dining rooms are open from four until ten and there’s a couple of pool bars that serve food as well. You up for anything?”
She considered it for a moment. “Let me meet with the event person first. Shouldn’t be more than an hour or two at most.”
“‘K. I’ll meet you back here.”
She nodded again.
Three and a half hours later, after being assured everything from the guest accommodations to the menus for the rehearsal dinner and the reception were set, and touring the venues, Charity parked the little golf cart in front of their cottage.
The humidity had increased in the time she’d left the hotel and her dress was stuck to her back like wet gum on the bottom of her shoes. A quick dip in the private pool while Kolby was out scouting sounded like the perfect antidote to the heat.
The cottage was quiet when she entered, Kolby’s bedroom door open. She peeked in and found it empty.
A quick change into her suit and she pulled a bottle of water from the stocked refrigerator, grabbed her sunglasses, a towel, and her iPad and made her way through the lanai doors.
And stopped short.
Kolby, all six-three and two hundred pounds of him, half-reclined in one of the pool chairs, shirt and shoeless.
Arms thrown over his head like they’d been that infamous morning in her bed, reflective sunglasses covering his eyes, air buds in his ears, he appeared to be asleep.
At least, she thought he was. The glasses served their purpose well and concealed his eyes.
The sight of him, all that expanse of chiseled naked chest tapering down to his trim waist, and wearing the same board shorts as hours ago, was too much. He must have taken a dip in the pool recently because the swirls of chest hair were wet and she didn’t think it was from sweat.
The thought to spend a quick few minutes lazing about in the sun while she went over some of the wedding details was killed.
“You gonna keep staring at me or park your butt in a lounge chair and enjoy this glorious sun?” His voice startled her while he pulled the buds from his ears.
So much for him snoozing.
“I’m not staring at you,” she said. “I’m deciding if I should stay or go back into the house.”
He lifted his glasses and pierced her with a look so hot she felt the sweat form on her back again.
“Why? Because I’m out here?”
Darn him.
That was exactly what she was thinking, but hearing him put it into words made her feel stupid and small.
“I’ve got some work to do and I don’t want to disturb you,” she said, hearing how lame it sounded.
“You won’t.” He dropped the glasses back in place and stretched, his hips lifting from the chair as his legs lengthened.
It was such an erotic move that Charity swallowed and gripped her device to her chest.
“Come enjoy the sun, Charity,” he said. “And the quiet.”
The realization she was being ridiculous and childish hit her hard.
They worked together after all, and should be able to sit and commune despite the weird history between them.
That one infamous night was over and done.
She’d made a mistake and was moving on. And in all honesty, Kolby had kept his word.
He’d never mentioned it, never brought it up.
Well, except for that one moment on the plane when he threatened to give her mouth to mouth.
But that had been a means to settle her nerves. A joke with no heat behind it.
Little did he know it had done the exact opposite, conjuring up images of those lips cleaved to hers. And not in a life-saving way.
With an internal full-body shake, Charity moved to the lounge chair furthest from him. After spreading out her towel, she twirled her ponytail into a bun on top of her head, and then gingerly tiptoed into the pool.
“Water’s like tepid bathwater,” he said. “Feels good.”
When she submerged herself to her shoulders, she had to agree.
The water was divine. She swam to the opposite side of the pool, then back again a few times, and finally felt her body cool down.
At the far end, she decided to get out. When she gripped the handrail and placed her foot on the first underwater rung, though, she lost her balance and plummeted backward into the water, arms flailing as she went under.
Before she could even come back to the surface, Kolby was there, lifting her out of the water.
Embarrassment shot through her hard and fast. Hacking coughs from inhaling pool water wracked her throat, and her eyes burned from the chlorine.
Kolby’s grip was like a vise around her and–much to her utter mortification–she'd slung her arms around his neck for purchase. Pool water sluiced between their bodies, droplets of it pouring from his face down his cheek and jaw, and settling on his chest hair.
Charity was acutely aware of the warmth of his body, the strength of his arms, the rise and fall of his chest as he held onto her.
He kept her aloft, her butt skirting with the surface of the water, one arm under her knees, the other under her arms as he peered down at her with concern in his eyes.
“You okay?”
She was so far from okay it almost made her laugh.
“You didn’t hit your head?” he asked.
“No. I’m fine,” she declared, attempting to squirm out of his hold. She would have had an easier time trying to get out of a locked vault.
“Let me go,” she said.
“I will. Just hold on.” Effortlessly, he cut through the water and brought her to the edge of the pool, away from the slippery ladder, and sat her down on the pool lip, her legs dangling into the coolness of the water.
Once she was settled, he took a few steps back and then dunked himself.
Charity took the moment of reprieve to try and quell her quaking body.
She wasn’t cold, far from it. No, this shaking had a decided carnal edge to it.
She was so turned on from being held in Kolby’s strong, formidable arms that her body was responding as if he’d kissed her.
The rapid thrum of her heartbeat was loud in her ears.
She could feel the organ pounding against her chest.
Why, of all the men in the world she could have been attracted to, did it have to be the one man she’d vowed to stay away from?
Kolby broke through the water’s surface and, in a move as sexy as any film star rising from a video watery grave, flung his head backward, rivulets of water from his long hair spraying behind him.
“Good golly,” she murmured as she lifted her hands to her lips, which, unsurprisingly, were trembling.
Kolby winked an eye against the sun as he stared across at her. “You okay?”
Why did he keep asking her that?
“Fine. Um, thanks. For, you know?” she pointed to the ladder.
He pushed through the water again and hoisted himself up onto the ledge, then one-legged to a standing position. Vats of water dripped down his body. His board shorts were plastered to his hips and thighs, outlining every conceivable muscle under them.
Every single one.
Charity’s fair skin heated like she’d been out in the tropical sun for days without sunscreen. And yet, she couldn’t look away. The man had some body on him. The kind, when she allowed herself to acknowledge it, was one her fantasies were full of.
Strong; tall; muscular; capable.
“I’m gonna go grab a shower,” he said, stalking back to his chaise. Lifting the towel, he rubbed it through his hair and then across his chest, his attention still on her. “Wanna get something to eat up at the hotel in a bit? I can give you the 4-1-1 on the places I scoped out.”