Call To Redemption. Tawny Weber

out of her mind. It wasn’t as if she was frigid—no matter what Paul said—but still, she’d never been one of those sex-obsessed women focused on the varied and satisfying ways to get off.

      Yes, sitting here with Dominic, thoughts of sex were filling her mind. Sexual innuendos. Sexual positions, sexual pleasure. Oh, yeah. Pleasure.

      “So now that we know we’re not destined for happy-ever-after?” she ventured, wanting to get herself back on track along with the conversation.

      “Now I do the gentlemanly thing and tell you that as attracted as I am to you, all I can offer is this week.”

      Darby’s pulse leaped with delight.

      Talk about perfect. If she had ever thought there was anything to magic or intuition, Dominic’s words would have cemented her belief. But she was a pragmatist through and through.

      So she took it as a sign, instead.

      Paul thought she was too much of a control freak to ever let go, to ever just enjoy the moment without having to know every single detail. Well, look at her now. Here she was, proving exactly how wrong he was.

      “Just this week? As in, no commitment, no expectation of more than a little vacation fun?” She leaned forward with narrowed eyes, angled her chin and arched one brow. “So basically, all you want is sex? A little vacation fling? Some naughty nooky with nothing on the side?”

      “Is that a bad thing?” he asked, tipping back a chug of Scotch.

      Both brows rose now. She’d made seasoned defense attorneys cry with that tone, but Dominic didn’t even blink.

      “Actually, it’s an excellent thing,” Darby decided, sipping her own drink and wishing the froth was something stronger. “My life, my real life, gets intense. My career demands a lot of my attention, most of my focus. And there’s nothing wrong with that.”

      She bit her lip, wishing that last sentence hadn’t sounded so defensive. Another reason to dive into this vacation fling, she decided. She would rock the hell out of work-life balance.

      “You won’t hear any argument from me. I’m a big believer in giving one hundred ten, even one hundred twenty percent, to your career. As long as you’re happy and fulfilled, it’s all good.” His smile slipped a bit. “Barring anything that breaks the national, state or city laws, of course.”

      “Well, that’s specific,” Darby said with a laugh. Not just the law, but all shades of the law.

      “I believe in covering all contingencies.”

      “I like that in a man.”

      “Excellent.” He gestured for the waiter to pour the wine, waiting until the man left before lifting his glass. “Here’s to vacation mysteries and pleasurable fantasies.”

      “I think I can drink to that,” she agreed, a little thrilled to realize that she could not only drink to it, but she also actually welcomed it.

      “So what do you do when you’re not sipping frothy pink drinks in Hanalei?” he asked after they’d clicked and sipped.

      “You had your two things, here are mine.” Mind made up, she leaned forward with a smile hopefully tempting enough to lure him into agreement. “First off, you’re a gorgeous man who is filling my head with thoughts and fantasies so detailed and erotic that I’m surprised I’m not blushing.”

      “Is that a fact?” When he turned his wrist so their hands were palm-to-palm and gently rubbed his thumb over her pulse, even those thoughts blurred. Darby had to take a couple of deep breaths to pull them back into focus.

      “Mmm, yes. That is a fact. So thing one is to assure you that despite bursting my beachside B-and-B bubble, the attraction is very mutual.”

      “That’s good to know.” His smile shifted, his dark eyes narrowing with desire. “Since I plan on finding out a lot more about those fantasies of yours so we can play them out in exquisite detail.”

      Oh, boy. She wanted a sip of ice water to cool her throat—or a gulp of wine to steady her nerves. But she forced herself to continue without either.

      “Which brings me to the second thing.”

      Talk about wicked. His smile shifted, sparking a curl of hot desire deep in her belly. The kind that made Darby want to press her thighs tight together to intensify, to build until the pleasure exploded.

      “The second thing is that we agree that whether our time together is limited to dinner, to the night, or the entire week, that it’s only about here and now.” Afraid she was sounding like some goofy romantic in a sappy movie, Darby cleared her throat and continued. “Whatever time we spend together will be focused on the matter at hand with no sharing of personal details. Topics such as careers, job demands, educational specifics or anything work-related is off-limits.”

      “Interesting.” He arched one brow. “Are you involved in anything illegal?”

      Tempted to laugh, Darby shook her head.

      “Immoral? Illicit?”

      Immoral? Thinking of the thousands of lawyer jokes she’d heard over the years, Darby’s lips twitched again.

      “There is nothing about my vocation that the United States government would frown on,” she said primly.

      “So that’s it? No sharing home addresses or phone numbers, and no job talk?”

      “Not even a hint.”

      Considering, he leaned back in his seat while the waiter set salads lush with leafy greens, spears of fruit and a dusting of fried plantains in front of them.

      “Any other personal details off-limits?” he asked as soon as the man was out of earshot.

      “Last names,” she added, just for fun. She knew all it’d take was a visit to the front desk—probably even less for him—to get that information. But it added to that the mystery. “We stick with Darby and Dominic. Which would have been a great name for that B and B, by the way.”

      “I can see the carved driftwood sign hanging over the door,” he agreed. “But since you’ve put the kibosh on that particular fantasy, I guess we’ll settle for the other one. A week of vacation pleasure. We’ll live in the moment, with no pressures and no expectations on either side. Except for pleasure. I have a lot of expectations when it comes to pleasure with you, Darby of no last name.”

      His expression was easy, the look in his eyes promising that the pleasure he offered was more than anything she’d ever imagined. But there was something else there, Darby realized. She’d seen hints of it already, an intensity and guarded pain, that made her realize that while this little escape into fantasy was something she wanted, it was actually something Dominic needed.

      A tickle in her belly joined the sexual tingles teasing her skin. Darby wasn’t sure what it meant. She recognized the attraction—the guy was gorgeous, after all. But there was something deeper pulling at her, tugging her heartstrings. Making her want to cuddle the man close and smooth away any pain. To give him a safe haven against the miseries she saw in his eyes.

      Whoa.

      Freak-out alert. Darby could feel her brain scrambling back from the concept of emotional anything.

      Emotions led to feelings. Feelings led to pain. Pain led to debilitation. The kind that slayed hearts, destroyed families, ruined lives.

      No can do.

      No way.

      No thanks.

      Darby drew in a slow, deep breath, feeling as if she’d just backed away from a mental cliff on a windy day.

      Emotions didn’t come into this, she assured herself. This thing, this week, it was all about the physical. Or, better yet, the fantasy.

      “That’s exactly what I want,” she told Dominic, leaning forward take his hands