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Like the walk equated with a swan dive off a tropical cliff into perfect Caribbean waters. She placed her hand in his and followed him down a stairway to one side of the balcony.
    The beach stretched out before them, and a large boat with white lights marking its outline floated on the dark ocean. A perky pop song sounded from somewhere behind them, muted by the dining room walls.
    “ Shoes.” He sat on the edge of a raised concrete flowerbed, kicked off his worn, high quality loafers, and rolled up his pant legs. “There’s a mandatory barefoot stroll on the beach with every resort date night.”
    “ Is this a date?”
    He grinned up at her and a rakish lock of hair fell over his breathtaking eyes. “I showered, put on decent clothes, and fed you. Next on my agenda is getting you comfortable enough, you let me sample your lips the same way you tackled dessert. So, yeah. It’s a date.”
    A tremor wracked her and shimmied straight between her legs. Remembering the feel of his hands on her at the beach had made dressing for dinner a challenge. Processing now what his lips might feel like nearly incapacitated her. She kicked her flirty coral espadrille wedges off and hooked them with two fingers. “I’ve never been on a date with a younger man before.”
    He wrapped his arm around her and steered her to the beach, his devious smile doing funny things to her insides. “Everyone deserves a chance to be daring in paradise, don’t you think?”
    Indeed. And she still didn’t know how old he was. “Just how daring am I being?”
    He lifted his eyebrow.
    “ You’re old enough to have made it through college,” she said. “So I know I won’t be carted off for any illegal actions in the morning, but I’m trying to gauge how high my Dirty Old Woman factor will rate.”
    “ I think the new slang is cougar.”
    Now that he mentioned it, she had heard her son mention the term a time or two, though she’d never thought it would apply to her. “Okay. Cougar. So, how old?”
    “ Twenty-six.” He angled his head and studied her in the moonlight. “And more than capable of pleasuring my date when I get her home.”
    Translation: Naked, tangled, and sweaty. Her sex clenched so hard, it was a wonder she didn’t face plant in the sand mid-stride. And how the heck was she supposed to respond to something like that?
    “ You never said what brought on the divorce,” he said.
    Thank God for topic changes. This one might not be all that much easier, but at least with full disclosure, she could address the whole sex-probably-won’t-work expectation up front. “He fell in love with someone else.” Swallow. Deep breath. Relax through it. “A younger woman.”
    He stopped. “Is that why you started doubting yourself?”
    The stars sparkled bright in the midnight blue sky and the easy ocean breeze caressed her bare skin. Peaceful and perfect. The first safe haven she’d found in months. “I’ve had one lover in my life. My husband. Everything I knew about my sexuality, my goals, my future, was tied to him. To our kids. Since I was eighteen, I haven’t had one thought, one decision, where I didn’t factor in the impact my actions would have on my husband or my children. Gerald leaving me for someone so much younger? Yeah, it jarred my self-confidence.”
    She swiped a long line in the sand with her toe and shrugged. “So, you might want to re-think your endgame of getting me into bed. I’m not nearly as worldly or experienced as you might think.”
    He widened his stance and stuffed his hands deep in his pockets. “You make it sound like I have a different woman in my bed every night.”
    Shoot. Not at all the way she’d intended the message to come out. “I meant worldly and experienced in a good way. Though, Arlo did mention your swagger and suave moves.”
    He cocked his head and scratched his chin. That lopsided, ornery smile of his crept into place. “What Arlo failed to mention was my mother’s unconventional