Page 26 of Moonlighter

“Really?” Her expression brightens, and I feel my reality slip a little. In real life, I’ll never be the married guy with the pregnant wife craving ice cream and pickles. But right this second I understand that guy. He’s in over his head. But the trusting eyes of a hungry woman are blinking up at him, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep her happy.

I’m deep into my role, I guess. That must be why I lean down and give Alex a single kiss—the kind that even CEOs permit. Just a lip touch, really. But it’s enough to make my body flash with unexpected heat.

And with something else, too. Possessiveness. I don’t understand it at all. But right this second I would sink my claws into anyone who tried to harm her, and my adversary would not even be able tocrawlaway from the fight.

“We should get the check,” Alex whispers, holding my gaze. We’re having a staring contest. I don’t know how it started, and I don’t know how to stop.

Jesus. I must be better at this acting thing than I thought. Or maybe it’s the jet lag messing with me. That must be it.

I finally look away and take a slow breath. Only to find Jared Tatum—her asshole ex—staring back at me with murder in his close-set eyes.

So I glare right back.Not today, Satan.You can fuck right off.

He scowls and looks away. Now he’s got the message. Alex is here with me, whether he likes it or not.

Our walkon the sand is a nice diversion. I don’t know what I’m doing in Hawaii, but it sure is a beautiful spot in the world. The beach sand is white. And there’s a view of Diamond Head in the distance.

Also, there’s a nice view of Alex in a pink bikini so small that I wonder how it was manufactured. Child labor? Robot bees? The rounded swells of her breasts are right there, torturing me.

I have to keep reminding myself that she’s off-limits. But it’s not easy. I’m supposed topretendto be the guy who puts his hands all over her. But I’m not supposed tothinkabout putting my hands all over her?

Straight up, this was my brother’s worst idea ever. I’m sure of it because parts of me want to be, well, straight up.

At least this isn’t a long walk. The high-end resort and spa where we’re staying is connected to the conference hotel by two routes: you can either walk down the trellised path that connects the properties, or walk down the beach.

We’ve taken the beach route. It’s shorter and more beautiful.

“All the meetings are down here at this bigger hotel,” Alex says. “I wanted to stay in the quieter resort, and I don’t mind the walk.”

“Uh huh. How many meetings are we talking about?”

“Twelve? Fifteen, tops.”

Holy crap. “I’m gonna get rigor mortis.”

“We’ll get the hotel to send a treadmill,” Alex teases me. “You can sweat it up in the corner of the room while I’m making deals at the conference table.”

She’s kidding, but if that weren’t wildly impractical I’d probably take her up on it. “I’ll find a book to read.”

“Actually, I don’t see why you need to sit through these meetings,” she says. “You can just step out.”

“It’s tempting. But I promised my brother I wouldn’t leave you alone. What would your usual bodyguard do?”

“He’d wait in the hall.”

“But I can’t do that. It would look ridiculous for your boyfriend to lurk in the hallway. Max has made this weird, right?”

“A little,” she admits.

Yup. I’m totally calling him later to complain.

Meanwhile, when we reach the ice cream stand, Alex orders a sundae the size of a lifeboat. “Aren’t you having anything?” she yelps when I sit down at a table instead of placing a second order.

“Maybe later,” I say, because it’s more diplomatic than pointing out that I’m full from lunch, and probably will be for three more hours. “I don’t need more food. What I need is a nap.” Or, in a perfect world, sex andthena nap. I need to burn off some tension.

My surroundings aren’t helping, either. The beach is decorated with miles of scantily clad women. None of them hold a candle to the bombshell eating ice cream across from me, though.

Whenever Alex licks that spoon, it makes me crazy. I wish she’d stop.