Secret Fantasy

She cocooned him in damp, moist heat, sheathed him in slickened tightness. “Sweet heaven.”

She trembled and wrapped her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. The wall behind her gave him the additional leverage he needed to keep the rocking, gliding motion going. His body, buried deep inside hers, felt full, thick and ready to burst and when her first tremors of climax began, she clenched him tighter in her velvet heat.

The erotic contracting of her muscles brought him up and over the edge, triggering an explosive orgasm. One that engaged not only his body but his mind, his heart and his soul.

JULIETTE LAY in bed with Doug drawing lazy circles with her fingers across his chest. Silence echoed around them but she didn’t feel the need to talk. What they’d just shared spoke for them. Contentedness reigned and she had no desire to change a thing until the ringing of the telephone jarred her, bringing her out of her blissful state.

She grabbed the receiver. “Hello?” she said, and discovered the hotel kitchen was calling to double-check her order and ask when she’d like it delivered. She sighed, knowing reality had just intruded and the time had come to gather her courage and face Doug with her feelings. “Five minutes would be perfect,” she told the man on the other end of the phone.

She hung up and turned back to Doug. “Breakfast,” she explained. “I invited you, remember?”

He rolled over, covering her with his warm weight. “I thought we just ate.” As if to back up his words, he began a steady nibbling on her lips that he knew she couldn’t resist.

“Mmm…” She sighed into him, kissing him back, not ready or willing to break their physical connection just yet. But with room service on the way, she had no choice. With a gentle push, she encouraged him to let her out from beneath him. “I’m sure you can work up that appetite again.”

“I most definitely can.” His hand reached down and cupped her breast.

A languorous wave of pleasure rushed over her. “Room service is coming,” she reminded him, but not easily. “I wanted to surprise you, though that’s impossible now. But give me a few minutes to finish setting up, okay?”

In reality she needed a few minutes alone to gather her thoughts-because over breakfast, she wanted to admit her feelings and see where things stood between them when this week was over. She couldn’t do that if they were lying in a bed that carried the musky scent of their lovemaking or if she let the heat of physical release sway his emotions. She needed both of them thinking clearly.

“No problem.” But his reluctant groan contrasted with his words. “I need to check in at home first anyway.” His deep blue eyes bore into hers. “But we do need to talk over breakfast.”

Something in his voice caused a shiver to take hold and she wrapped her arms tighter around her. “Sounds ominous. But yes, we do need to talk.”

She pulled herself out of bed and wrapped the satin robe around her naked body before starting for the bedroom door.

“Juliette.”

She turned. “Yes?”

“It’s only ominous if you take it that way.”

She inclined her head and let herself out, his cryptic statement ringing in her ears.

Juliette stepped through the living area to the terrace to discover the waiter setting down her order. As if by magic, he’d appeared within minutes of his phone call. She shook her head, amazed by Merrilee and her staff’s efficiency. After placing the order on the table, the waiter left, leaving Juliette in peace.

She poured the drinks and unwrapped the basket of rolls, croissants and Danish, recalling the last time she and Doug had discussed the merits of sweets. Then, they’d exchanged an erotic prelude of things to come. A prelude to this morning, when she’d tasted him more thoroughly than she’d ever imagined, given to him in a way she’d never felt inclined to give to another man. Including her ex-fiance.

“Hello, Juliette.”

“Stuart!” She thought she’d conjured his voice, but she turned to find herself facing him. Shock and disbelief rippled through her. “What are you doing here?”

“Fulfilling a fantasy, same as you.” He stepped onto the patio, his shiny loafers gleaming in the sun. He wasn’t dressed down as most of the guests; rather, he wore a pleated pair of tan slacks, a designer belt and his usual well-pressed collared shirt.

His staid, conservative dress only made her glaringly aware of her own lack of clothing and she pulled the collar of her robe tight around her throat. “What kind of fantasy would bring you down here?” she asked, certain his visit had nothing to do with fantasy and everything to do with her.

“You remaining silent, of course.” His piercing stare bore into hers. “Not that I told Ms. Schaefer-Weston that.”

Juliette wasn’t surprised Stuart had fed Merrilee a story. He had probably used an assumed name, too. Merrilee’s ethics were too strong for Stuart to gain access to Secret Fantasy any other way. Glancing at him now, Juliette recalled her sister’s words about how his sudden silence had unnerved her and Juliette inhaled deep. Now she was the one shook up-by his unexpected presence and the lengths to which he’d obviously gone to join her on the island resort.

She swallowed hard. “I already said I wouldn’t expose you. Any reason you couldn’t take me at my word?”

“Your sudden disappearance concerned me. It’s not like you to run.”

His dual implication wasn’t lost on her. “It wasn’t like you gave me a choice. You lied to me and a marriage has to be based on trust.” And on love, Juliette thought.

She supposed in a way she ought to be grateful for the revelation at the church. If not for her last-minute discovery before she said I do, she would have realized eventually that what she felt for her own husband was not real love. Because now she knew what honest and true love felt like. It was what she felt for Doug.

“So without the marriage vows, how do I know I can trust you?” he asked wryly.

“Because you know me. You have known me for years.” She didn’t miss the irony. She’d known him for an equally long time yet she’d been blindsided by his lies and illegal associations. Would Stuart realize the incongruity as well? At the very least she prayed that he wouldn’t suspect she was misleading him, that she’d already revealed the details of Stuart’s shady dealings to Doug, and that she planned to tell her father as soon as she returned. The senator, Juliette assumed, would take the story to either the police or the press. Either way, Stuart wouldn’t be seeing the election ballot, never mind her father’s Senate seat.

But she had known him for years. Which led her to a lingering question. “Why, Stuart? Why get involved in dirty deals and money laundering?”

He shook his head. “You really don’t get it, do you? Maybe we grew up next door to each other but you grew up with the money and the spotlight. I had to work for it.”

“And you did. You worked hard and you made it. You’re almost there.”

He sighed. “I figured Bob’s connections would give me the money to back me up as well. But what they say is true. Before you know it, you’re in too deep.”

“So get out. It isn’t too late.”

“It is unless I want to lose everything. I won’t let that happen. And your silence will make sure my dreams come true.” Stuart picked up a leafy hibiscus she’d laid on the table, twirling it in the air, examining the petals. “So what’s your fantasy? What are you looking for that I didn’t give you? That I knew nothing about?”

She forced a laugh. They’d known so little about each other it was pathetic, Juliette thought. In less than a week, Doug understood her better than Stuart had after a lifetime.

She shrugged. “Gillian surprised me with the trip. She created a fantasy. I’m just living it out,” she said, hoping he’d leave it at that.

“It involves a man.”

Juliette raised her eyebrows, wondering how he’d known, then silently berated herself. Between her skimpy robe and the intimate setting she’d staged, she’d given herself away. “I can’t imagine you’re jealous. Not when all you saw in me was a stepping stone to easier election.”

Since he’d reluctantly admitted as much at the church when he realized there would be no ceremony, Juliette saw no reason to couch her words now.

He shook his head. “Jealous is the wrong word.” He reached out for her hand, but she stepped back, away from