Free HIGH TIDE by Maureen A. Miller

But lust wasn’t what he was looking for.
    Right.
    He was looking for a staid woman that he could settle down with. He was getting old, and it was time. Meleana had cauterized any festering desire for an affair with someone steeped in their work.  
    That was it. The decision was made. He was going to avoid Briana from now on. It was best. After all, he had his work cut out for him to determine what was agitating the Windward coast. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even make it to Manale today. He would spend the afternoon in his office at the University to avoid any impetuous move on his part. Briana probably never would have met him anyway. Her response was elicited in the heat of the moment, and he was certain that in the light of day, the businesswoman would return and snub him.
    Mollified, but bitter, Nick surged out of the water and cursed when a shell cut into the underside of his heel. Satisfied that there was no blood, he continued towards the bun galow, but his steps slowed. Suddenly he was aware of the stillness in the air, and the solitude of his home.
    Mutinously, he looked up towards the lanai and envisioned Briana standing there in one of his shirts. She smiled down at him, silky blond hair wafting in the breeze. The collar of her shirt billowed and privileged him with a glorious view. She laughed openly, and he nearly smiled in response to the vision.
    Damn.
      ***
    Both hands were on the steering wheel, and the key was in the ignition, but the car wouldn’t go.
    “Grow up, Holt. You can handle this guy.”
    The pep talk didn’t seem to work as she glanced at the rearview mirror to make sure she was not holding up anyone in the parking garage.
    Digital numbers on the dash alerted her it was almost one o’clock. Nick had probably left already, if he had showed up at all. Last night Briana spent hours replaying their encounter over and over in her head, and kept picturing those dark eyes until she thought she would go mad.
    This morning , under the obtrusive sun, her vision wasn’t so rose-colored. Nick McCord had imperfections. He was aggressively male, with a touch of arrogance—although the latter was a trait she envied. He had a way of looking at her with the corner of his mouth curling indolently as if he found her amusing. The gesture intrigued her.
    Okay, so there weren’t too many imperfections, but there were some. Perhaps in the light of day she would see more, when the moon and diamond-lit sea were not such an alluring canvas.
    Easing the car into drive, Briana pressed on the gas and emerged from the heavy shadows of the garage into the brilliant sunlight of another gorgeous Hawaiian day.
       
    Poised atop a sand dune, Briana held a hand to her forehead to ward off the glare as she scanned the beach. It was vacant. No hot geologists waiting to take her out on a date.
    Did that really come as much of a surprise?
    Tempted to just turn around and flee to the sanctuary of her office, she glanced at her watch and reasoned that Nick might have been tied up. Delayed, yes, delayed.
    Starting down the dune to the shoreline, the breeze billowed beneath the hem of her sleeveless dress, and an instant later molded the sheer material back against her thighs. After several unwieldy steps, she stooped to peel off her sandals, and smiled at the sensation of warm crystals blanketing her toes.
    It was the middle of the workweek and the beach was empty except for a young boy at play, his robust mother watching lazily from beneath the shade of a palm tree. Briana nodded in her direction realizing that the woman’s dark eyes were following her.
    She continued her trek, balancing on the edge of the soft burst of froth. That phantom lick of water made her tremble with the predictable tug of fear. Remarkably, it was followed by a burgeoning warmth of recollection. Nick’s lips—his arms—his touch.
    God, she had to stop doing this. She was a grown woman.  It wasn’t as if she had never been kissed before.