Your shadow is crossing my ball," complained my husband, David.

Apparently I was standing in the wrong spot as I watched him tee off during our golf lesson at The Boulders, an Arizona resort where we had gone for a Golf & Spa couple's package.

I moved. The shadow disappeared. He hit the ball badly. Somehow it was still my fault.

Isn't it romantic?

Actually yes, once our instructor broke up the ensuing squabble, made us kiss and make up in front of a foursome of cigar-chomping men waiting their turn, and taught us the most important mantra for golfing couples: "It's only a game. It's only a game."

Playing -- that's what we were doing, trying to recapture (with occasional setbacks) the sense of fun and humor (and, yes, passion) we had appreciated when our relationship began.

Finding -- or renewing -- that delicious lightness of being together is, to many couples, the essence of a romantic escape, whether they're honeymooners or have been married for years.

If making like Tiger and Tigress Woods is not your cup of aphrodisia, how about snuggling double in a single chaise on a Caribbean beach in front of your oceanside room, your skin caressed by trade winds, as you watch the sun slip slowly into the sea?

Come spring and summer, most cold-weather getaways drop their prices substantially -- a nice valentine for couples not wedded to a winter escape.

Too tame, you say?

Then seduce each other all over again at a resort-based couples' sensuality workshop, where sex is part of your daily homework.

Or go for a Playboy-esque romp in a Las Vegas hotel "fantasy suite," where the color scheme is bordello red, the rooms come equipped with dancer poles, and the showers provide overhead light shows and glass walls that go from frosted to transparent with the flick of a switch.

If you're still with me, come along on some sizzling escapes for lovers.

But don't stop here. Use your imagination and do your own research. Good resources include Hideaways.com, CruiseCritic.com and SpaFinder.com.

Two-for-tee times

The Boulders, where we had our weekend Golf & Spa package, is a swank golf resort in the Sonoran Desert foothills north of Phoenix.

The golf was on two stunning championship courses that wind through rocky outcroppings and alongside giant saguaro cactuses. The spa is a branch of Golden Door, the California serenity sanctuary.

We added private lessons from the golf pro and were thankful he not only improved our swings but also curtailed connubial combat on the fairways.

For variety, we gleefully put our marriage on the rocks with a private boulder-climbing class, a mountain bike ride, and a guided meditation walk through the circular maze in the Golden Door spa's courtyard.

Afterward, we surrendered our aching muscles to an outdoor couple's massage at the spa.

We chose one of several American Indian-inspired rituals. Our masseuses -- one for each of us -- rattled a rain stick, chanted Hopi blessings, "smudged" the air around us with a smoking bundle of fragrant sage to purify our spirits -- and then kneaded us into oblivion.

Dinner in the restaurant? Nah. We arranged for a candlelit "tee-box dinner," where our table overlooked the fairways and mountains beyond, and the waiter delivered the food and wine, course by course, via golf cart.

Then, sated and sleepy, we retired to the mesquite-burning fireplace in our adobe casita, set amid a jumble of prehistoric boulders.

Great but cheaper: For a more down-home learning vacation, sign up for a five-day couples dancing workshop and learn swing, waltz and Argentine tango -- all to live music -- at the Augusta Heritage Center in Elkins, W.Va.

Each morning starts with a "Waltz Across Breakfast" dance to get the juices flowing. My husband and I needed an afternoon nap to remain vertical for the nightly community dance and lively jam sessions around campus.

Making life a beach

A vast stretch of clean, white beach; oceanfront rooms with the sand and sea just beyond our patio door or second-floor terrace; a welcoming staff that makes us feel like family -- that's my equation for the romantic escape of my dreams.

I found it at the Divi Aruba All Inclusive resort on 2-mile Palm Beach.

My mom and dad discovered Divi in the 1970s. They fell in love with the low-rise buildings (just two stories), beach-hugging lanais, informal atmosphere and minimal nightlife that might have bored to tears action-seeking couples, who gravitated to the high-rise casino hotels down the beach.

Like other Divi devotees, they came back year after year, relishing hours alone together on the beach, but also forming close same-time-next-year friendships with fellow guests and much of the staff.

I joined them one spring and watched my 50-something mother giggling like a schoolgirl as she swam offshore alongside her Divi girlfriend Cathy.

My dad, parked in a palm-shaded chaise with a thick James A. Michener novel, smiled at my mom's slow progress along the water and the sweeping view of sand, sea and wispy white clouds.

"This," he said, spreading his arms wide to encompass the scene, "is a machia" -- the Yiddish expression translated as "heavenly."

Divi isn't quite as sedate anymore, I discovered during a recent visit after a 24-year gap.

A big spa and high-tech gym have sprouted at the resort's neighboring, less-quiet sister, Tamarijn (guests at both properties have access to all facilities). And the weekly schedule lists a slew of activities, from snorkeling clinics to beach soccer and, alas, beer drinking and hot-dog-eating contests.

The rooms all have high-speed Internet access and sleek black TVs with satellite programming. (They didn't even have in-room telephones in my parents' day.)

Across the street, Divi's Alhambra Casino stays open until 4 a.m., time-share condos are propagating, and a lagoon-studded nine-hole golf course undulates below a new gourmet restaurant.

But the gorgeous beach and seascapes and perfectly placed lanais remain unchanged, as do the laid-back mood and the caring connection between staff and guests.

Gazing at the sun sinking into a silvery sea, my hand entwined in my husband's, I could see in my mind's eye my mom and dad walking hand in hand into the shallows for a little "dunk" before dinner.

Their Divi, I thought, gratefully, is still very much "a machia."

Great but cheaper: It's not easy getting to Chez Pierre, a tiny resort with just six rustic beachfront bungalows on 4-mile-wide Long Island, an out-island of the Bahamas.

You have to fly to Nassau and/or Exuma, then take a puddle-hopper or ferry to Long Island. But it doesn't get any more secluded than this, and the reasonable rate includes breakfast and dinner, and use of bikes, kayaks and a catamaran.

Sensuality 101

It's not all sex. In fact, the five-day "Partners, Pleasures, and Passion" workshop run by Arizona's Miraval Resort is more about intimacy.

Facilitators Lana Holstein and her husband, David Taylor, both Yale-educated physicians, take couples on a journey of emotional, spiritual and sensual growth that my husband and I found life-changing.

The guiding premise is that "conscious loving," with sex as a path connecting body and soul, is a learnable skill.

With commitment, time and energy -- and a little better understanding of male and female anatomy and physiology -- we could become expert lovers in the fullest sense of the word, the facilitators assured us.

So, along with 15 other couples, ranging from 30-something to 70-something, married a few months to 50 years, we practiced "soul-gazing" -- looking deeply into each other's eyes in a way that opened our hearts.

And we experimented with kissing like we had all the time in the world.

Most important, we learned to listen -- really listen -- to each other's yearnings, fears and disappointments and to create space for healing, so a deeper connection could blossom.

No one had to publicly share their personal problems, and any intimate touching was in the privacy of our room.

When not "studying," my husband and I took long walks together along paths flanked by delicate wildflowers and indulged in daily spa treatments -- included in the workshop price.

Good news: We all graduated. My husband and I still soul-gaze daily and listen to each other better, but we rarely do that kissing thing and can't remember half the vital learnings we vowed never to forget.

Time for a refresher course.

Great but cheaper: The Omega Institute in rural Rhinebeck, N.Y., offers a weekend workshop, "The Sexual Body & the Yoga of Light."

Taught by David Deida, whose books and workshops have been popular with couples seeking to grow sexually and spiritually, the program is open to singles and couples of any sexual orientation.

Naughty is nice

Just try keeping your hands off each other when the two of you walk into one of the erotic-themed fantasy suites at the Palms Casino Resort in Las Vegas.

The brazenly bawdy rooms have hot pink, crimson and other come-hither color schemes; fur and leather accents; mirrored ceilings; prominently placed beds -- some of which vibrate or rotate -- and "show showers" with strobe lights and stripper poles.

The fantasy suites have extra soundproofing -- to minimize the noise from couples playing loud music, no doubt.

Great but cheaper: If high-stakes love nests are beyond your budget, create your own fantasyland at any hotel by bringing along mood-setting props -- scented candles, red lights to temporarily replace the white ones in the lamps, massage oil, a boombox with soulful CDs, feather boas and whatever else tickles your fancy but doesn't damage the premises.