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her—and he’d done it. He’d fought against his fear and won. The reef they’d explored today was possibly even more beautiful than the one he’d seen yesterday, but Alex had been more intrigued by his view of her than of the fish. He couldn’t help it—the way that dive suit stretched over her figure made her look like the hottest Bond girl ever. Alex didn’t get it. He’d always kept a cool head around women, but somehow one whose name he didn’t even know had gotten under his skin.

      “Listen. I don’t even know your name, and that’s going to make for a very bad story when I tell it back home. I’m Alex. Did I mention that already?”

      “I believe you did. Nicola,” she said, swinging two more tanks onto the dock.

      Alex was impressed—the things weighed a ton, and even though she was slender and feminine she lifted them with ease. He reached out for one of them, his fingers brushing against hers. “Can I give you a hand with those?”

      “I’m good.” She paused, finally turning to face him. Her eyes pierced through him, sending a charge through his body. “It’s okay. You’re forgiven, all right? I get that you were under a lot of stress. But I really don’t—”

      “I almost drowned when I was five,” Alex blurted out. Her eyes widened, and he shook his head. He’d never told this story to anyone, and here he was about to lay it on a practical stranger. “In the ocean. My mother told my brother to watch me, but he got distracted.”

      “That sounds awful,” she said carefully. “How old was your brother?”

      “Ten. And already a rock star—in his own mind, anyway.”

      Her brow furrowed and then cleared. “Rock star.” She grinned. “Dev Stone is your brother.”

      He shrugged. “I guess someone had to get stuck with the job.”

      She nodded slowly. “I’m tutoring tonight. Eight o’clock at Pablo’s.”

      “Great! I’ll see you...”

      But she was already walking away, her long, tanned legs making him ache with every move.

       CHAPTER FIVE

      “AND IF YOU take the seven away, you get nine. See that?” Nicola flicked her hair behind her ear as she scribbled on her notepad.

      Raia smiled slowly in the way she always did when she was starting to comprehend something big, and Nicola grinned with her. Then she stole a glance at her watch. She loved tutoring her students more than anything, but tonight she felt jittery. It was just a drink, she kept reminding herself—not even a date. For all she knew, he could be leaving the island tomorrow. She didn’t have to tell him a single thing about herself—least of all the thing that had brought her to Moretta. They’d have their drink, maybe share a few laughs, and then go their separate ways feeling better about what had gone down yesterday.

      Except she knew that she was lying to herself. She wanted him, and she could tell he wanted her. Just standing close to him on the dock this morning had made her insides turn to gelatin. When his fingers had brushed against hers, she’d felt a jolt that fired directly to the spot she desired him most.

      Nicola closed her workbook and gathered up her pencils. “You did great tonight, Raia. Keep working on your subtraction, and next week we’ll do some reading.” As she stood and reached for her handbag, she noticed Raia staring at her.

      “Are you getting married?”

      Nicola couldn’t help it—her eyes widened. “Am I what?”

      The girl shrugged. “Getting married. In Winx, the girls always look fancy when they’re getting married. And you look so pretty.”

      Nicola placed her hand on the girl’s head. “Thank you, Raia. That’s very kind of you.”

       Pretty.

      Nicola was about as into false modesty as she was into inflated celebrity egos; she knew she had the ability to turn some heads. But as she walked toward her golf cart, she realized how little she’d actually thought about her looks since arriving on Moretta. In LA she’d had a closetful of cute clothes that she wore to work, and had fun experimenting with different hair and makeup styles. But here it was a bikini every day, her hair seemed almost constantly wet and she’d had to actually search for her makeup bag this evening. Out of the four stylish dresses she’d brought to Moretta, she’d chosen a soft gray bamboo one that clung to her figure without being too obvious, paired with strappy silver sandals.

      As she fired up her cart and started driving toward Pablo’s, she wasn’t sure if she was afraid she’d dressed too sexy or not sexy enough.

      * * *

      Alex drummed his fingers against the table and checked his watch. 8:06. He’d give it another four minutes before he started worrying she was going to be a no-show.

      He glanced around the restaurant, taking in the open-air bar—free of the strawberry blonde bartender tonight, he was relieved to see—the casual island decor and the perfectly clear water surrounding the pier his table sat upon. Behind him the indigo sky was streaked with shades of orange and pink. Everything about the atmosphere screamed, relax, you’re in paradise! But Alex felt anything but relaxed.

      He turned back to his table to check his phone, and his breath stopped.

      She was standing right in front of him, waiting for him to acknowledge her. He was quite certain he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life. Her dress, though anything but showy, revealed the perfection of her curves. Her blond hair lay in soft waves against her shoulders, and the small amount of makeup she wore intensified the color of her eyes. Her heart-shaped lips, free of lipstick, shone with a slick of gloss that made him want to bite and kiss them for hours.

      “You look incredible,” he finally breathed, getting to his feet. He had meant to pull her chair out, but she beat him to it and sat herself down.

      “Thanks,” she said with what seemed to be a touch of self-consciousness. She gave him a small smile that made the blood rush straight to his groin, and then she lowered her eyes again.

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