Trey exhaled the breath he’d sucked in. “Oh. Well, fine then.”

“Coral builds up around the base beneath the water’s surface,” she continued, “and over the years, the volcano top falls away until all that is left is the coral ring and a huge lagoon in the center. Vegetation grows on the ring and beaches form and you have an atoll. They look like little rings in the sea.” She pointed out his window. “There. You see? This atoll is part of the Archipel des Tuamotu. The Tuamotu Archipelago. We are about 150 miles from Pape‘ete. Tahiti is part of les Îles du Vent. The Windward Islands. Mostly mountaintops that haven’t erupted or disintegrated. Although there are many atolls, too. Vous comprenez?”

He stared at her hands, wondering what it might be like if she actually reached out and touched him. Trey wanted to capture her fingers and pull them to his lips, to kiss each neatly manicured tip until he got a reaction from her. How could such a simple gesture intrigue him so? “Yes,” he murmured.

“In an atoll, there are often separate islands in the ring and these are called motu. A motu can be very large or quite small, but they are…lower. Flatter than an island like Bora Bora.”

What he wanted right now didn’t have anything to do with islands or resorts or trust funds. Listening to her voice, watching her beautiful mouth, was pushing his thoughts in a very different direction. If he had his way, he’d demand she land the damn plane so he could drag her into his arms and kiss her. And once he sensed her surrender, he’d strip off all their clothes, lie in the warm sand and make love to her. It wasn’t just a fantasy. There was definitely an attraction between them. He could see it every time their eyes met.