He stood in the shallow and swiped back his wet hair. She gave him a broad grin, then applauded.

"Great job, Josh. Ninety percent of swimming is mastering the right kick-stroke-breathing pattern, and you now have a good feel for the rhythm. From here, all you need is practice. You're certainly ready to start sailing lessons."

Unable to control his smug grin, he caught her around the waist, lifted her up and spun her around. She grasped his shoulders and laughed.

He lowered her slowly, enjoying the slide of her wet body down his. "When can we start those sailing lessons, oh, great and wise teacher? Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow is my day off."

Disappointment edged through him. "So that means you're not available?"

"Actually, it means I'm available all day."

His gaze wandered down to her full lips, and his heart thumped hard. "Now that's what I call good news."

"The best news is the great progress you've made in such a short amount of time. I think you're the best student I've ever had."

"Well, I know you're the best teacher I've ever had. And definitely the prettiest."

She leaned back in the circle of his arms and shot him a teasing grin. "Oh, come on. I bet there were loads of pretty science and math teachers at the University of Montana."

"There might have been, but my teachers tended toward the bearded, gray-haired, masculine variety."

"Hmm. So, me being the prettiest teacher you've ever had isn't much of a compliment considering the competition."

"Well, you're also the sexiest teacher I've ever had."

"More so than the 'bearded, gray-haired, masculine variety.' Gee, thanks."

He shot her a mock fierce frown and tightened his arms around her. "You're a tough gal to give a compliment to."

"And you're hard-"

"Because of you-"

"-to resist."

Her wicked smile fired his blood. "Well, now," he said, "that's very good to hear. I suggest we consider this lesson officially over. You still up for our date at Buffalo Pete's?"

She leaned closer and rose up on her toes to lightly tug on his earlobe with her teeth. A fog of lust enveloped him and he nearly missed her heart-stopping reply.

"Oh, I'm definitely up for it," she whispered against his ear. "For starters."


* * *

Buffalo Pete's was in full Saturday-night swing when they arrived shortly before 11:00 p.m. Bodies pressed three-deep at the long, polished mahogany bar, and waitresses wearing denim cutoffs, cowboy boots, and white T-shirts emblazoned with the bar's logo weaved expertly between the tables and booths. Couples swirled on the dance floor to a lively Garth Brooks tune, and the smack of billiard balls from the back room rose faintly above the noise and music.

Josh took her hand, entwining their fingers, and Lexie relished the warmth of her palm nestled against his. He led her to the hostess stand where a smiling young woman greeted them. She grabbed two plastic-coated menus, then escorted them through a labyrinth of tables toward the rear where she left them at a small table tucked in a cozy, softly lit corner. Josh held out her chair for her-an act of masculine courtesy she'd thought had gone by way of the dinosaur-then folded himself into the chair across from her.

Dressed in cowboy boots, eye-riveting snug jeans, denim shirt and a cream-colored Stetson, he certainly looked at home here, and since he wouldn't be able to hear it over the noise, she didn't even try to contain the sigh of female appreciation the sight of him inspired. The top snap of his shirt was undone, inducing another sigh at the teasing glimpse of his tanned throat. It just made her want to crawl onto his lap, unsnap the rest of his shirt, and play peekaboo.

Prying her gaze away from that fascinating fantasy-inducer, she took in the tanned sinew of his forearms where he'd rolled back his sleeves. The man definitely had great arms. And the fact that they were half-covered again made her want to remove his shirt-with her teeth.

And there was no denying that the sight of him wearing that Stetson did weird things to her pulse rate. The way it shadowed the upper part of his face, obscuring his eyes, yet giving her an unimpeded view of his beautiful mouth-a mouth he most definitely knew how to use-lent him an unnervingly predatory air that kicked up her temperature a good ten degrees.

Removing his hat, he set it on the empty seat next to him, then skimmed his fingers through his thick, dark hair. His gaze roamed over her with an appreciation that zoomed a feminine tingle right down to her toes. Good grief, he had a way of looking at her that made her feel absolutely beautiful. Feminine. And desirable. Reaching out, he captured her hand, then pressed a warm kiss in her palm. "You did it again, and I've got to know how."

She didn't have a clue what she'd done, but based on his heated expression, she was damn glad she'd done it. "How I did what?"

"Managed to get yourself so gorgeous in less than half an hour."

Humph. It might not have taken her long to get ready in the employee locker room, but before leaving her house this morning, she'd agonized over what outfit to bring-something she never did. After trying on a dozen different things, she'd finally decided upon a simple turquoise sundress and matching sandals. The sleeveless dress was fitted on the top, dipped low in the back, and flared into a full skirt that ended several inches above her knees. Of course, he didn't need to know she'd fretted and worried over what to wear as if they were attending a state dinner at the White House.

She smiled across at him. "I've never been the spend-an-hour-getting-ready type. I wear more sunscreen than makeup, and I gave up long ago trying to tame my hair since it does whatever it wants no matter how much I fuss with it. With the heat and humidity here in Florida, in order to keep my sanity, I've become pretty low maintenance. What you see is what you get."

He touched his tongue to the center of her palm. "Promise?"

The waitress suddenly appeared at the table, sparing Lexie the need to reply, which was probably just as well since his question and the touch of his tongue had rendered her mute. While Josh ordered beer, wings and nachos, Lexie nodded her assent and took several much needed deep breaths. Good grief, at this rate, with the way he affected her breathing, she'd hyperventilate before their drinks arrived.

She glanced up at their waitress, and noticed that the young woman was staring at Josh with an odd expression, one that almost seemed to border on awe. Not that Lexie could blame her-he was pretty awe-inspiring. But really, this woman was being just a tad obvious.

Josh, however, appeared oblivious, and handed her the menus with a friendly smile, then returned the full wattage of his attention back on Lexie.

"So tell me," he said, recapturing her hand, "is what I see really gonna be what I get? 'Cause I gotta tell you, Miss Lexie, you look so hot in that dress, Buffalo Pete is going to have to take the batteries out of his smoke alarms." His eyes again wandered over her. "How is it that a gal like you has remained unattached for a year? I can only figure there's something wrong with the men around here-sunstroke or hit on the head with coconuts or something."

Warmth spread through her at his compliment. "My energies have been focused on things other than my social life. But I've managed to work in a few dates, compliments of my friend Darla who keeps trying to fix me up. Disasters, all of them." She looked toward the ceiling and shook her head. "Yes, I'm quite the expert on first dates. Unfortunately, I know next to nothing about second dates."

"This is our second date, and you're doing just fine."

"I suspect you're just easy to please."

"Actually, I'm extremely choosy."

"Besides, we're not really dating."

His brows shot upward. "No? Where I come from, this is called a date."

"Well, I suppose technically this is a date, but I wouldn't say we're dating."

"What would you say we're doing?"

There was something in his tone, in the underlying seriousness, watchfulness, lurking behind the playfulness that set up a fluttering in her stomach. "Well, the very temporary nature of our… arrangement… places it more in the category of a… fling."

He studied her for several seconds with an unreadable expression, and she found herself holding her breath. But then he said, "I see. I suppose you're right."

For reasons she couldn't explain and refused to examine, his agreement disappointed her.

Oh, come on, Lexie. What did you expect him to say? That he'd chuck his life in Manhattan, Montana, and stay here so you could date?

His fingers lightly caressed the length of hers, recalling her attention. "So tell me about one of these disastrous first dates."

"Ugh. They were all bad. But the worst was this past winter." She leaned forward and confided, "He had this weird breast fetish."

"I hate to break this to you, sweetheart, but lots of guys do."

"Not my breasts. His breasts. He kept touching them, feeling and pinching them. Like he was tuning in the knobs on an old-fashioned radio. He wanted me to suck on them."

"Well, him wanting you to suck them isn't that weird."

"We were on the dance floor at his company's holiday party."

"Oh. That's weird."

She shook her head. "Being with my ex for so long, I was out of practice in the dating pool. But every time I attempted to dip my toe back in, I found myself surrounded by sharks and other assorted bottom feeders. I finally decided it wasn't worth the hassle-at least until someone who seemed normal happened along."