Meet Me in Hawaii by Georgia Toffolo (best affordable ebook reader TXT) 📗

‘Do you dance much?’

He shook his head, his eyes dancing in the fairy lights. ‘Not if I can help it.’

She grinned wide, caught on the amusement she could read in his gaze. She liked that he could laugh at himself too. ‘That explains it, then.’

‘That bad, hey?’

She nodded, softening her confirmation by placing her hand on his arm as she leaned in. ‘You dance like you have a stick up your backside.’

She’d intended to pull back but as he raised his brow to look at her, so close, only a foot separating their faces, but found she couldn’t. His cologne filled the air that she breathed, spicy and all masculine, his arm beneath her fingers was taut and warm, his eyes flicked to her lips, their intent as easy to read as her own.

Remember where you are.

Remember who he is.

This is not Ibiza, or some club you can just hook up in.

She flexed her fingers, then became immobilized by the conflicting urges to back away and close the distance.

‘A stick, you say?’ His voice rasped like it had on the beach, or did she just imagine it? Was she hoping he was as wrapped up in the sudden proximity as she was?

‘Yes.’

‘Do you always say it how it is?’

‘Pretty much.’

But she wasn’t about to say anything on their underlying chemistry. She knew attraction, the power of the pull when it was reciprocated and it was there, between them. And never had a guy been more off limits to her than Todd Masters. He was invaluable to her plans for the surf school, she wouldn’t muddy the waters for a fling that could only be just that, a fling. She wouldn’t.

She broke away, forcing her focus on the music, the rippling beat that had her hips gyrating as she twirled on the spot, all the while she felt his eyes follow her. She wasn’t intentionally teasing him, she moved on impulse driven by the music, like she did with the sea and her board. And he needed to get a sense of that too if he was going to stand a chance at surfing.

But he wasn’t even trying to dance now as he watched her, his grin and the shake of his head looking more awestruck than anything else. ‘I envy you.’

She frowned a little as she kept time with the music. ‘You do?’

‘Your ability to say what you want, dance how you want, to just let go.’

‘Well, I hate to tell you this, but you’re going to need to learn to do it too.’

‘I am?’

‘Unless you want to take a pounding in the waves…’ He folded his arms across his chest and she danced around him, using her body for emphasis as she explained, ‘You need to loosen up, to flex your body as the sea dictates, to move with it. Just like you should ease your body into the music now.’

‘Ease my body into the music…?’ He sounded less than convinced.

‘Uh-huh.’ She had ways to get him to loosen up – if he’d been anyone else, she’d have her hands on him now, teasing him into the rhythm, but each time she touched him, she wanted more.

Words. Words would do. She was an instructor after all. She used words every day.

‘Try widening your stance…’ He did as she bade. ‘A little more… try shoulder-width… better, it gives your hips more freedom to move.’

He laughed but did exactly as she asked.

‘Now bend your knees a little, keep them soft as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, letting your hips flow naturally.’

‘Like this…’ He tried left to right, but completely out of time and it baffled her that he could do it, defy the music. To her it came so naturally, the beat, the move, the beat, the move…

‘Kind of… but listen to the music, to the rhythm, let it dictate your tempo… not so harsh, flow with it.’

She was watching him and trying not to laugh again. He was trying, he really was; his look of concentration was what she’d expect from him in a boardroom a million miles from where they were now. It softened her to the core. The millionaire businessman trying to learn to dance, to do what she dictated. But all the while his arms were rigid across his chest –

it didn’t matter how much his hips moved, those arms were going nowhere.

‘You’re doing this on purpose, right?’ she said eventually.

‘Doing what?’

She shook her head and waved a hand in front of her face to hide her giggle. ‘Nothing. Nothing.’

He stopped altogether. ‘I don’t think my ego can cope with your company much longer.’

‘I’m sorry, I don’t mean to… it’s just…’ It’s just – what? She hadn’t danced with anyone so stiff before? She hadn’t danced with anyone she wanted to kiss more before and couldn’t? That was hardly his fault. And she was hardly being fair. With anyone else she’d simply take a hold of his hips and move him into the movement.

And the truth was, she was going to have to get her hands on him at some point if they were to have five whole surf lessons together. She’d never taught anyone without physically moving them several times over.

No, the sooner she got used to defying the attraction the better.

‘Come here.’

‘Come here?’ He stilled, his eyes wide and dancing with his own laughter now. ‘Are you ordering me about, Ms Pukui?’

The way her name sounded in his London accent shouldn’t have sent her belly erupting with tiny flutters, but it did.

‘Are you going to disobey me?’ she pushed, openly shaking off the sensation and fighting back.

‘I wouldn’t dare.’ He stepped towards her and she held her ground, readying herself for the sensation she knew was coming, every nerve-ending alert to his approach.

‘Good,’ she said, lowering her eyes to his chest. She couldn’t stare up at his eyes this close, not now she