His muscles clenched, a jolt of sexual awareness ripping through him.

But Mandy stood up. “Oh, look, they’re starting beach bingo. Come on, let’s play.”

She patted his shoulder and started down the beach.

And he didn’t even resist.

Chapter 7

Damien was kicking ass at beach bingo. Mandy watched him with growing amusement. She held her card in her lap, the beans they’d been given as markers rolling around, no longer on the numbers that had been called.

The first time she’d upset her whole card, she had asked Damien to read her the numbers he had. It had aggravated him, since he hadn’t been able to hear the new numbers as they were called with her distracting him.

So the second time she’d spilled her beans, she had just leaned over and shifted his markers around so she could see the numbers. Only in doing that, she had got in the way of him seeing his board, and he’d got bingo just seconds behind another hotel guest.

He’d been ticked off. Mandy didn’t understand why, since he’d won twice already, but Damien was nothing if not competitive. Now he had his card set on the ground, his feet pinning it so the wind wouldn’t take off with it. His knee went up and down in agitation, and his hand hovered over the card with a bean at the ready.

Mandy sometimes wished she had an ounce of competitiveness in her, but it had never surfaced. She liked to do things she enjoyed and didn’t really care about the outcome as long as she had fun. Which probably explained why her toy shop had never turned a profit.

The games coordinator sat at a table calling the numbers. With a smile, he pulled the next ball out.

“Eight. Ocho. Huit.”

Before he was even finished with the French translation, Damien was on his feet. “Bingo!”

There was some good-natured grumbling from the half a dozen women in their seventies playing, while Damien strutted to the table to collect his latest prize pack. Sitting at Mandy’s feet were already three bottles of rum, two T-shirts, a piece of Dominican artwork, a model of a sailboat, and a necklace made out of shells. She couldn’t even begin to imagine why he needed any more booty.

At least the bingo caller had said that was the last game. Mandy was enjoying herself, but she was also getting hungry. The buffet should have opened for dinner, and since Damien already thought she had a pastries pouch, she might as well indulge herself.

Damien collected his prize, then to her surprise, turned and passed the two bottles of rum and the T-shirt out to the ladies who had been playing. He came back over to Mandy, retrieved the rest of the winnings, and finished doling them out, until everyone had received something.