“You need to eat with all the mojitos you’ve downed.” The big
tease, Dr. Carlos Montoya, wasn’t counting. This was her
first drink, but his rumbling, sexy timbre hinted at all kinds of dark, hot
promises. She’d rubbed shoulders with the Cuban scientist all week. This
splendid specimen of Latin male brought on a physical ache that punched low.
A flare-up stirred fear. For her own good, she needed to
resist. “I ordered camarones enchiladas.”
By now she knew the menu on the chalkboard by heart. She tipped her head back
to whiff grilled shrimp soon to arrive in sofrito sauce with fried sweet plantains.
“The flan is good. Just like my abuela makes.”
“I bet. Your grandmother would be happy to hear that,” she
said, knowing he brought out the best in most people. Two days ago he'd invited
her and a handful of others scuba diving. The chance to ogle him had been one
of the perks. He’d worn nothing but swim trunks, his bare chest on display.
Every glistening muscle was finely etched. Not a drop of fat on him. Since he’d
not given her the time of day, she’d checked him out without him noticing.
The hard-bodied host had led the way toward habitats of
soft-bodied creatures. To find where invertebrates lived was never an easy
task. Octopuses squeezed into narrow passages of coral for protection and gave
females a place to keep their eggs. She’d discovered the remains of a few meals
nearby. Octopuses scattered rocks and shells to help them hide.
This
grant meant so much to her and no doubt to him as well. 
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