PROLOGUE
Seven years ago. Andros Island, Bahamas
A HOT, MOIST BREEZE, perfumed by the sea and the faintest exotic whiff of an unidentifiable flower, wafted through the hut’s open window just as Tasha Riordan collapsed atop Diego. Her nose squashed into the damp curve where his neck flowed into a muscular shoulder, and as she silently breathed in his salty, slightly spicy scent, it occurred to her she hadn’t once asked what his last name was during the thirtysomething hours since they’d met. Waiting for her heart to cease its thunderous reggae beat, however, she didn’t dwell too closely on that just-met-yesterday thing.
Okay, you would think, given she’d spent a good part of her life keeping her chin up while living her mother’s reputation down, that she’d sort of welcome a little soul-searching. After all, diving into bed with a virtual stranger was a big departure for her.
A big, big departure. Huge. And she ought to be a little concerned about it, right?
Tough-skinned fingertips ran down her naked spine, sparking back to life nerve endings that by rights should have been incinerated to cold, dead ash. “You okay, cariño?” Diego asked, his voice a rumbling vibration beneath the ear she had pressed to his throat.
And just like that, her half-assed inclination to whip herself into a lather of self-recrimination melted away as her lips curved into a little smile against his skin. She didn’t know what it was about this guy, but one thing was for certain: he possessed an undeniable magic. In spades. From the instant he’d approached her on the beach yesterday morning, he’d kept her pretty much swept off her feet.
That was no small accomplishment. Ask anyone back home in Razor Bay, and damn few would hesitate to tell you—Tasha Riordan’s feet were always firmly, pragmatically planted on the ground.
But she merely murmured, “Oh, yeah” and kept her heartfelt And then some to herself.
This was probably par for the course for him. God knew he made her feel things she’d never felt before, and she was usually a hard sell. She could only imagine how many women already geared up for a vacation lover had thrown their room keys at him. The fact that she’d managed to keep her undies on until today was downright brag-worthy. She’d been tempted to shed them from the instant she’d laid eyes on him.
And considering the orgasm he’d just given her, perhaps she should have. It had been the most phenomenal, amazing one of her life.
She swallowed a snort. Like you’ve had so many to compare it to. But she shrugged the thought aside as unimportant. Yeah, yeah, she hadn’t experienced a plethora of non-self-induced climaxes in her twenty-two years. Still, neither was she a virgin, so she’d certainly had enough to know she’d never felt anything close to this. “How are you?” she asked softly.
He went so still she thought he’d suddenly quit breathing. She found herself doing the same. As several heartbeats passed in silence, her euphoria leaked away. Oh, God, she thought. Like you could rock his world. A person only had to look at Diego to understand his experience was galaxies beyond her own.
Then his hands tightened against her back, and he said in a low, gritty voice, “You wanna know how I am?” An exhalation of amusement, which just perhaps wasn’t amusement at all, huffed out of his lungs. “I’m so blown away it’s not even funny.”
“No,” she said on a disbelieving laugh, pushing up to look down at him. She had no illusions about herself. She was tall and skinny and had decent boobs, but hips and a booty that could belong to a twelve-year-old boy. She knew men found her reasonably attractive, but in no man’s universe was she close to being in this guy’s league.