She felt like a student slipping away from school in the middle of the day. She giggled as they stepped outside.
Tucking her hand into his arm, Reed led her toward the beach walk. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” she said, curling her fingers into his forearm. “I’m just…happy.”
Okay, so she wasn’t exactly being subtle about her feelings for him. She figured it was already too late for that. And there was so little time left before she had to go back to her real life. Would Reed still be a part of her life after this vacation ended? She’d wondered, and worried, about that for half the night. And she’d always arrived at the same conclusion.
She would be devastated if he said goodbye to her and walked out of her life for good.
He smiled down at her, looking perfectly content to be with her. For now, at least. “I’m glad you’re happy,” he said softly. “You deserve to be.”
After a moment he asked, “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me for the way I behaved last night?”
She promptly blushed. She really was going to have to do something about this tendency of hers to show every fleeting emotion on her much too expressive face! “I…er…I suppose so.”
“I know I acted strangely,” he said a bit awkwardly. “It was just—well, you took me by surprise.”
She peeked up at him through her lashes. “Showing up at your room, you mean?”
“That—and what you told me afterward.”
“Oh.” Her blush deepened. “That I was…er…”
“Yeah.”
It seemed that neither of them could say it this morning. Celia wondered why. And then she decided it was because the matter was too important to speak of lightly. She and Reed would not be casual lovers. Something very important was growing between them. Life-altering. And, oh, how she hoped she wasn’t the only one who felt that way about it!
“I understand,” she assured him, though of course she didn’t quite understand. She’d been trying ever since to decide exactly why he’d suddenly changed his mind about making love to her. Even in her inexperience, it had been obvious that he had wanted her. That he hadn’t wanted to leave her at her door last night.
Had he considered himself being noble? Even if his intentions had been honorable, she couldn’t be grateful that he’d left her to toss and turn all night with an empty, unsatisfied ache inside her. Nobility was all well and good in its place, but it could certainly lead to frustration.
As if he’d read her mind, Reed gave an odd little groan that strangely echoed her feelings. “If you only knew how many times I called myself a fool last night for taking you back to your own room,” he muttered. “If I’d thought a cold shower would have helped, I’d be an icicle by now.”
It helped, a little, to know that he’d shared her frustration. She laughed and moved closer to his side. “I called you a few choice names, myself, last night,” she admitted.
“I don’t blame you.” He suddenly sounded grim. “You’ll probably call me a few more before the day is over.”
She frowned and looked up at him, intending to ask him to explain that strange statement. He distracted her by turning to her and kissing her until she forgot how to form words, much less ask a coherent question.
He finally released her. While she recovered her breath, he polished the smudged lenses of his glasses on a spotless white handkerchief. Celia noted that his hands weren’t quite steady.
At least she wasn’t the only one trembling, she thought with some measure of satisfaction.
Chapter Eleven
The Sandcastle was a quaint little place built on the beach between two towering hotels. It was busy, but there was a table available for them. Celia interpreted that as another good sign, then mentally chided herself for snatching at straws again. Both she and Reed ordered coffee, croissants and fresh fruit, remembering the friendly waiter’s advice about the pastries.
“He’s a nice guy,” Celia commented after the busy waitress had poured their coffee and left with their orders.
“Who is?”
“Mike. The waiter at the Alexander,” she clarified.
“Oh.” Reed grinned briefly, then nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure he is.”
Celia glanced idly around the room. A short, dumpy woman with bottle-red hair sat alone at a table in one corner. Though she bore little resemblance otherwise, the red hair reminded Celia of the woman with whom Reed had shared breakfast yesterday. Followed by a leisurely stroll on the beach.
She cleared her throat and stirred her coffee, focusing her gaze on the circling spoon. She had no right to quiz Reed about the woman, of course. After all, she had been breakfasting with another man at the time.