...Even at eight in the evening, the hotel lobby buzzed with activity. Several clerks staffed the reservation desk, and bellhops loaded luggage carts. In the background, the ding of the elevator bell announced the arrival of descending cars.

Laughter erupted from her left, from the direction where she’d spotted the Blue Lagoon bar on her arrival. Maybe that should have been her first stop. A frosty margarita would taste great right about now. With wishful thoughts, she glanced in the direction of the music and sucked in a breath at what she saw.

A staring man. Sitting at a table in the lounge area. A dark-haired, handsome man’s gaze locked with hers. His eyes were dark, almost black, and smoldered with interest. Surrounding his wide mouth was a close-cropped mustache and goatee.

Moving her head, she took in the rest of the lobby and shot a glance over her shoulder to see who might be the object of this man’s attention. No one besides Doug the clerk stood behind this end of the counter. The sensation of being observed persisted, and the compulsion to meet the stranger’s dark stare turned her head back in his direction.

His gaze was constant, the look intense. Dressed in black slacks and a gray, silky shirt, he sat with a lazy air, a leg crossed over his knee. A longneck beer bottle rested beside his elbow on the small round table.

Now more than just her nape tickled. Carina watched his long fingers run along the tapered neck of the bottle and wondered how they’d feel on her body, tracing a path along her skin, exciting each and every nerve. Her stomach spiraled with awareness, the tightness shooting straight to her pussy. To keep her knees from buckling, she braced a hand on the counter.

Wow, that had never happened before. Sure she’d received looks like that, but her body had never reacted in that way. Or so quickly. She must be more tired than she’d thought. Or the anticipation of her free-wheeling week in the tropics had caused her imagination to work overtime. This guy was dial-a-hunk sexy and guys like that never looked her way. Heat flaming her cheeks, she glanced over her shoulder at the clerk. “Any luck?”

A phone held to his ear, the clerk raised a staying hand and whispered, “I think so.” He looked down at the computer screen, narrowing his gaze. “Switch what?”

Confident the room was being secured, she slowly turned to face the lobby and let her gaze linger over the immediate area. The itch of being watched had disappeared. Damn. For a moment longer, she hesitated, not wanting to confirm the man had deserted the small table just outside the bar. Instead, she noted how the lobby held plush chairs and loveseats angled in close groupings for easy conversations. Floral arrangements and decorative lamps on small glass tables added color.

Unable to stop herself, she brushed a hand over her chin-length hair, fluffing it away from her jaw, and then looked toward the Blue Lagoon.

The table was empty.