He knew better. He shouldn’t have offered to join her for breakfast, and he definitely shouldn’t have offered to be her guide when he understood the danger she presented. Every thought over the past week had been about finding her and getting an explanation for her desertion. Now he had it, how despicable was he to still want to spend time with her?
Yesterday evening, at the family cookout, he’d been happy when she left to go inside early. Yet watching her long-legged stride and retreating back served to torment him, too, because he’d wanted nothing more than to follow her into the house and release the pervasive tension blanketing his body the best way he knew how.
Right now he wanted to reach across the table to touch the pale toffee of her soft skin. Why even put himself in a position to be tortured by a woman he couldn’t have?
Because of late he’d become a glutton for punishment, and even though he couldn’t have her, he willingly accepted whatever he could get. One solitary day. Not even the whole day, because they had to return to the house this afternoon to get ready for the wedding. Five hours? Six?
He couldn’t turn it down.
They didn’t have a reservation but were still fortunate enough to get a golf cart. Using a leisurely pace, Roarke took the morning to cover the historic sites of the island. They toured the ruins of Fort Frederica, built in 1736 and a stronghold for the English when they fought the Spanish in 1742. They drove by the Avenue of Oaks, once the entrance to an antebellum plantation named Retreat Plantation, but now the entrance to the Sea Island Golf Club.
At St. Simons Lighthouse, they watched a short film about the structure and then proceeded to climb the 129 cast iron steps. Celeste huffed her way to the top behind Roarke.
“Wimp,” he teased.
“We just climbed one hundred and twenty-nine steps. Not twenty-nine. One hundred and twenty-nine. I’m allowed to feel tired.”
They stepped out onto the metal gallery that encircled the top of the tower. They were the only ones at the top. From there Celeste could see the stunning view of the coastline and the grounds below. “Beautiful,” she breathed.
“Was it worth it?”
She smiled up at him. “Definitely.”
His lips turned up at the corners. The smile traveled all the way up into his eyes. He’d tucked his sunglasses into his pocket, giving her the luxury of viewing his entire face. Calling him handsome didn’t do him justice. Warmth radiated from her chest, and she quickly glanced away to hide her thoughts and stunt the growth of warm feelings.
“Look.” Roarke pointed out toward the water. Something moved out there.
“What is that?” There was more than one.
“Dolphins,” he replied.
Celeste watched the gray objects playing in the waves. “Wow,” she whispered.
From the corner of her eye, she saw his gaze shift back to her. “You’re lucky. Not everyone gets to see them.”
She did feel lucky, standing next him. Even though their excursion around the island wasn’t complete, she already knew she wouldn’t forget this day and the pleasure of his company.
Midday, they took a stroll along the waterfront before heading over to Barbara Jean’s, a popular casual dining spot on the island. Roarke assured Celeste everything on the menu was delicious, but she couldn’t decide on what to eat. He took charge and ordered dirty rice and she-crab soup to start, added the famous crab cakes, and they shared a couple of seafood platters between them.
When he ordered dessert, Celeste waved him off, stating she didn’t have room for another bite. But when the Chocolate “Stuff” showed up, she couldn’t resist dipping the extra spoon the waitress brought into the sinfully delicious bowl of chocolate goodness topped by fresh whipped cream.
After lunch he took her to St. Simons Pier and the historic King and Prince Beach & Golf Resort, perhaps the most famous lodging on the island and itself a historic landmark. Before too much time passed, they went to the village to shop, and Celeste purchased items for herself, her mother, and her daughter.