Maverick Millionaires: Trapped with the Maverick Millionaire / Pregnant by the Maverick Millionaire / Married to the Maverick Millionaire. Joss Wood

man, Rory thought when her brain cells started firing again. Sexy, crazy, impossible man.

      * * *

      In the same restaurant they’d visited two weeks ago—a pink-and-yellow sunset tonight and no hurricane on the way—Mac tucked his credit card back into his wallet and gave Rory a crooked grin. “Eaten enough?”

      Rory leaned back and patted her stomach. “Sorry, I’m a real girl who eats real food.” Not like those models you normally date, she silently added.

      “You ate fish stew, two empanadas and you still had pumpkin pudding.” Mac shook his head. “I know every slim inch of you and I have no idea where all that food goes.”

      Rory picked up her drink, put the vividly green straw between her lips and sucked up some piña colada. Instead of responding, she fluttered her eyebrows at Mac, who smiled. God, she loved it when he smiled. It made her heart smile every single time.

      Mac stood up and held out his hand. Rory put her hand in his and allowed him to pull her up from her chair. “Oof. You weigh a ton.”

      Rory slapped his shoulder. “Jerk.”

      “Well, you’re going to work that food off.”

      Oh, she couldn’t wait. Making love with Mac was fun, fantastic, toe-curling and, yes, it was athletic. Win win.

      “What I have in mind is a bit more adventurous... Are you game?”

      “Maybe,” Rory carefully replied, doubt in her voice. “If it’s not too kinky or too weird...”

      His laughter, spontaneous and deep, rumbled across her skin and she shivered. Mac had a great laugh and, like smiling, he definitely didn’t do enough of it.

      “It’s a surprise. A surprise that you have to work for but I promise it will be amazing.” Mac brushed his lips across the top of her head. Then his arm snaked around her waist and he kissed her properly, crazily, tongues going wild. She melted against him, into him, swept up in her desire for him.

      As usual, Mac was the first to pull back. He jerked back, looked down the beach and back to her mouth.

      “What?” Rory pushed her hair off her face.

      “Deciding whether to scrap my plans and hurry you home.” Rory huffed her frustration when he stepped back and distanced himself from her. “Nope, I really want you to see this.”

      Mac glanced at the sunset, then at his watch and Rory noticed it was nearly dark. “Okay, it’s dark enough, let’s go.”

      “Go where?” Rory asked as he took her hand and led her down the restaurant steps toward the beach. She kicked off her sandals and sighed when her feet dipped into the still-warm sand. She picked up her shoes, slid her hand back into Mac’s and followed his leisurely pace down the beach. What was he up to? And really, did it matter? It was a stunning summer’s evening on the island, the air was perfumed and Mac was holding her hand, occasionally looking at her with the promise of passion in his eyes...