“Make sure you put on your sunscreen. This sun is extremely powerful. I slathered it on, and I still got burned on my back and shoulders where I couldn’t reach.” The sun was so hot Mandy had wondered if she were actually cooking her baby in utero.

She had shifted the chair to the shade of a tiki hut and made sure she drank lots of water and took breaks back in her room, so she thought she was safe, but maybe she ought to look it up in The Everything Guide. After Damien went away.

“Do you have your sunscreen?” Damien held out his hand. “I’ll get your back.”

Oh, he did not just say that. Mandy bit her lip. There was just no way she was letting him rub lotion all over her bare back. “Oh, well! I’m in the shade, so I think I’m fine, thanks.”

“We don’t want your British skin burning.” Damien leaned over and started rooting in her beach bag. “Is your sunscreen in here?”

How very like a successful businessman to just take over and stick his fingers where they didn’t belong. “No, really…” She trailed off when he pulled out her issue of Baby Talk.

“What’s this?” He glanced curiously at it.

She ripped it from his hands. “Oh, just something I picked up by accident.”

Because it was so easy to confuse a big, bald baby face on the cover with the half-naked women always on Cosmo.

But she couldn’t worry about how ridiculous her lie sounded when he was bound to encounter The Everything Guide to Pregnancy in another three seconds. Mandy reached out and snagged her beach bag from him.

“Let me get the sunscreen. You’ll never find it, I have tons of crap just rattling around in here.” Hand deep in the bag, Mandy felt her cheeks heat. Damien’s eyes were shielded behind dark sunglasses, but he looked perplexed. Suspicious.

Palm closing around it, she pulled the tube of sunscreen out and slapped it into his hand. With a brilliant smile, she tried to distract him. “So, have you been to the buffet for dinner yet? It’s absolutely divine.”

Damien frowned, and even with the sunglasses shielding his expression, she could tell his gaze had landed on her stomach. Was he putting two and two together—her belly, the magazine…Mandy’s heart started racing, her palms sweating, her cheeks burning from more than the Caribbean sun.

“I haven’t made it to the buffet, but I’m glad you’re enjoying it. Lots of desserts?” His words were polite, casual, as he tossed the sunscreen from hand to hand.