“Sorry,” he told her after he’d punched the off button and slid the cell back into his pocket. “My business partner is getting a little antsy.” At her arched eyebrow, he added, “I’m due in Australia for a competition this weekend.” He wiped a hand over his face. “I’m supposed to fly out tomorrow for some preliminary media events.”
“So you figured in the meantime, you would talk some sense into me, change my mind, put me on a plane back home and then you could fly out tomorrow as planned?”
He looked as if he wanted to deny it, but then he shrugged. “That would have been the best-case scenario.”
“The worst case being that you would have to miss your competition and babysit me the entire two weeks?”
“Actually, I was thinking worst case, as in I hog-tie you, tape your mouth shut, and put you on the first plane back home.”
“While you fly off to wrestle porcupines in the Amazon.”
“I wrangled snakes in the Amazon. This is an alligator wrestling competition. The alligator wrestling competition of the year. Competitors come from all over the world.”
“Sounds exciting.”
“It is,” he said, but the certainty didn’t touch his eyes. Deanie knew then that while Rance was living the extreme dream, he hadn’t found any extreme happiness to go along with it.
“Is it harder than steer wrestling?”
“No. You just get a lot wetter.”
“Is it as much fun?”
No. The answer was there in his eyes, but it didn’t make it past his lips. “Stop trying to change the subject.”
“You brought it up,” she told him. “What can I say?” She shrugged. “I’m curious.”
“Not half as curious as you are stubborn. Christ, Deanie,” he murmured, his voice suddenly softer. “A sex camp?”
“I know how it sounds, but it’s run like any other school.”
“You don’t learn how to have great sex by sitting in a classroom, listening to a lecture. Have you ever just thought about kicking back and letting your natural impulses take over?”
“The only place I’ve ever gotten by ‘kicking back’ is last place.”
She had last written all over her. Back in kindergarten when she’d been too small to reach the water fountain like the other kids. In junior high when the tallest girl in the class had stolen Deanie’s science homework and hidden it at the top of the locker which had been out of arm’s reach.
She swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat and fought the urge to slide across the seat and press her body into his embrace.
Because when he’d held her, kissed her in that storage room, she hadn’t thought about the past or the future or the fact that she was still a far cry from the confident, experienced, ultra-femme female she wanted to be. She hadn’t thought, period.
She’d simply felt, and it had felt really right.
“Things don’t just fall into place for me,” she said, eager for a distraction from the truth—that she still had it bad for Rance McGraw. “Some of us are born lucky and some have to make our own luck. Unfortunately, I’m in group two.”
“And which one am I in?”
“Let’s see…You’re not bad on the eyes.” Talk about the understatement of the century. “You were junior steer wrestling champion four years in a row. Captain of the football team, both high school and then college. All state. First draft pick. Two Super Bowl rings. A successful business.”
“I busted my ass for all of that.” She gave him a pointed look and he shrugged. “All of it except the not bad on the eyes.”
“Then you know what I’m talking about.”
“I’m not saying you shouldn’t have a plan or set your mind to it. But sex is different. It’s all about finding your groove.”
“What if you don’t have a groove?” she asked before she could stop herself. “I mean, not that I don’t,” she rushed on, eager to hide her sudden insecurity. It was one thing for him to deduce that her registration at Camp E.D.E.N. meant she was totally inept in bed, and quite another for her to confirm it out loud. “I just want to perfect mine.”
“Then all you need is a little practice.” With me, his gaze seemed to say.
Yeah, right. Rance McGraw interested in Deanie Codge? That was a laugh.
Then again, she wasn’t the same old Deanie.
She was the new and improved version with her hot pink dress and leg-enhancing high heels and newfound cleavage. Maybe he really did see her differently now.
The thought should have sent a wave of satisfaction rippling through her. Instead, she frowned.
“What I need is a boat,” she muttered. Surely they had charters traveling to the various islands?
“Why don’t you just stop all this nonsense, forget about Camp E.D.E.N. and enjoy the next twenty-four hours?” he asked as they pulled to a stop in front of the hotel.
Fat chance, with Rance McGraw dogging her every footstep. With him so close, it was too easy to forget everything except their kiss and how much she wanted another one and how she would do practically anything if he would just…No.
She wasn’t going there. Not this time.
Not ever again.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE you sicced Rance McGraw on me,” Deanie said into the phone the moment her brother Clay’s answering machine beeped. She hesitated a moment, wondering if Helen had gone into labor, which would explain why her brother hadn’t picked up the phone himself. If something had happened to her sister-in-law, Clay would have called. Deanie had already listened to all of her messages, and there wasn’t one mention of Helen or the baby. He was probably out riding fence while their father played bingo at the diner and Helen shopped for another baby outfit.
“First off, my business is none of your business,” she told his machine after she’d reassured herself. “And second, my business is none of Rance’s business. And third, I can’t wait until I get back because I’m going to really enjoy telling Helen your business. Particularly about your so-called business trip to Sioux City. The one where you went fishing when you should have been home with her helping her pick out flowers for the wedding. Why, I bet she’ll have no problem understanding how you’d rather gut a trout than pick out the perfect breed of rose for your fiancée’s bouquet.” Click.Okay, so she had no intention of telling Helen and hurting her feelings, but it would serve Clay right if she did. Even more, she didn’t want to be the only person losing a night of sleep. He deserved to toss and turn a little.
Her gaze slid to Rance who sprawled in a lobby chair, his hat tipped back, his gaze as handsome as ever as he studied his surroundings.
He should have been in the elevator, headed for the eighteenth floor and his hotel room. Their hotel room. They’d presented their comp tickets to the woman at the registration desk only to find that Escapades had only double rooms available—they were primarily a couples paradise, after all. Which meant that Deanie and Rance could share a complimentary double, or pay the outrageous price for an additional double.
While Deanie had no doubt that Rance could afford it, he’d merely drawled in that slow, deep voice of his, “One double will be just fine with me,” and taken the key card the woman had handed over. Meanwhile, Deanie hadn’t been about to blow an obscene amount of money on a room without first weighing all of her options. After all, Camp E.D.E.N. wasn’t all that far away. If she hurried, she could still make the first scheduled workshop.
Rance’s gaze collided with hers and he grinned. He was waiting for her.
Watching her.
Wanting her.
Her stomach flipped and she had a sudden vision of a moonlit hotel room. The white sheers ruffled with the island breeze as it blew through the open patio doors. Rance’s tall, tanned body sprawled across the white sheets of a king-size bed…
Her heart skipped a beat and she drew a deep, calming breath.
Okay, so Clay deserved to toss and turn a heck of a lot for this one. In fact, we’re talking major insomnia. With a fe
w paranoid delusions thrown in.
She forced her gaze from Rance to the display of brochures just to her left. Her attention fixed on Madame Zombobwee’s House of Voodoo.
She reached for the colorful advertisement. Maybe she would pay the woman a visit this afternoon if she didn’t manage to get off Escapades and over to Camp E.D.E.N. A voodoo doll and a few well-placed pins and Clay would surely regret butting into her life.
Folding the brochure, she stuffed it into her purse and headed for the concierge desk. “I need a boat,” she told the young man wearing a starched white and blue floral shirt, creased khaki slacks and a nametag that read Alan At Your Service.
“I’m afraid all of the fishing charters left early this morning.”
“I don’t want to fish. I want a ride to a neighboring island. Camp E.D.E.N.”
“There’s a sightseeing tour that travels around the nearby islands, but I’m afraid that left early, as well. It’s an all day even with lunch and dinner. Not that they stop off at Eden. That’s a privately owned island.”
“I know. I’ve booked a course there. Orientation is this afternoon.” His gaze widened and a twinkle lit his eyes. “Aren’t there any private boats?” she asked before he could make some sort of cheesy comment. “For emergencies?”
His knowing gaze disappeared and concern drew his eyebrows tight. “What’s your emergency?”
I need to learn how to Shed My Inhibitions. “Never mind.” She glanced at the various pamphlets sitting on the desk. Her gaze zeroed in on one and an idea struck. “What about a Wave Runner?”
He smiled. “We have plenty of those. We rent them by the hour. Unfortunately, the hotel is full and demand is high, so they’re booked up a full day in advance. But you can add your name to the waiting list in case someone doesn’t show. Just see the reservations desk out by the North Pool.” He pointed to the rear of the lobby and a pair of glass doors.
Beyond, the white sand beach shimmered in the midday sunlight. Palm trees swayed with a faint breeze. Blue water stretched endlessly, the horizon dotted only by the distant spot that represented Camp E.D.E.N.
She was this close.
All she needed was a way to get there.
She gathered up her purse, ignored the urge to glance in Rance’s direction one last time, and headed through the lobby toward the rear of the hotel.
She thought for all of five minutes that Rance had given up following her. The sofa where he’d been sitting now held an elderly couple who sat side-by-side and held each other’s hand, their gazes full of adoration as they stared at one another.
A pang of longing shot through her. While she was fixated on self-improvement at the moment, it was really just the means to an end. She wanted her own happily ever after. She wanted to fall in love. Even more, she wanted to fall in love with a man who would love her back. Unfortunately Rance wasn’t even a contender.
Even so, she found herself looking for him as she left the lobby and made her way around the monstrous pool.
An up-beat salsa tune blared from the patio speakers. The pool practically overflowed with oil-slicked bodies. Waiters rushed here and there with trays of drinks. A string of paper hearts had been taped across the bar in honor of the following Saturday. A huge red and white balloon arch framed the far side of the pool where a band was scheduled to play a special Valentine’s dinner and dance the following day.
Her thoughts rushed back to a certain Valentine’s Day when she’d been ten and still desperately, openly infatuated with the best looking boy in town.
She’d spent an entire morning baking cookies, and fighting with her brothers who’d been scarfing them down as fast as she could pull them from the oven. She’d managed to salvage a baker’s dozen from the seventy-eight she’d made and pack them into a shoe box lined with wax paper. She’d waited until Rance had stepped off the school bus and then presented him with her box of goodies.
The next year she’d given him a homemade red velvet cake.
The year after that, heart-shaped cupcakes.
The year after that, the largest box of chocolates from the general store.
She’d been persistent, and he’d been nice, but it hadn’t made him see her as anything other than a friend.
He’d graduated and gone off to college and she hadn’t celebrated the holiday since. Sure, she’d had several boyfriends over the years, but she’d never actually been in a relationship when the fourteenth rolled around, and so she’d never had a real Valentine’s Day.
Deanie shook off the sudden depressing thought and stepped toward the grass hut that served as the registration desk.
She smiled at the young man who stood behind the counter. He was tall, tanned and blonde and wore the familiar blue floral print shirt and starched khakis. His name tag read Malcolm At Your Service.
“Malcolm, I need to rent a Wave Runner.”
The hair on the back of her neck prickled and she felt Rance’s presence even before she heard his voice.
“Make that two.” He came up behind her, so close that she felt the heat from his hard body.
“Sure,” the attendant said as he retrieved his clipboard. “I should have a pair available…” He studied the schedule on the clipboard. “Tomorrow evening,” he finally announced. He smiled. “Name?”
“I really need one sooner than that. Can you put me on the list if someone cancels?”
“Yes ma’am, but I seriously doubt we’ll have two cancellations at the same time. The Wave Runners are our most popular water sport right now since two of our dive boats are out of commission.”
“That’s okay,” Deanie told the young man. “We’re not together. He’s headed for some porcupine-wrestling competition tomorrow and I’m on my way to Camp E.D.E.N.” She gave the young man her name and tried to ignore the annoyed look on Rance’s face as she turned to head back into the lobby to fork over the money for her own room. She could have sworn she even heard him growl as she breezed by without so much as a “see you later.”
As if he wanted them to be together.
He didn’t.
He was here on behalf of her brother. He’d kissed her on behalf of her brother—to make her miss her plane and stop her from reaching Eden. He was stalking her—for the next twenty-four hours—on behalf of her brother.
He wasn’t acting of his own free will.
Thankfully.
Because if he had been the slightest bit sincere, Deanie would have been hard-pressed to remember the promise she’d made to herself that night at the river—namely that she would never, ever offer herself again to Rance McGraw.
No matter how much she wanted to jump his delectable body right now.
5
“TOO OLD.” The deep, familiar drawl slid into Deanie’s ears and her hand paused just shy of the panties hanging on the small lingerie rack in the hotel’s one and only clothing shop.
After registering for her own hotel room, she’d gone inside to pick up some things to see her through until tomorrow since she was obviously stuck for the next twenty-four hours. That, and she’d been desperate to steer clear of Rance.It seemed, however, that he wasn’t like her older brothers who would rather cut off an arm than go shopping.
She felt the heat of his body at her back. His scent—prime male and fresh soap and danger with a capital D—filled her head. Her heart stalled and her tummy tingled.
“Excuse me?” she managed to say.
“If you’re serious about this whole inner vixen thing, I can tell you she wouldn’t want you to wear those.” He indicated the white cotton briefs she’d been about to pick up. “Why don’t you try that little black number right there.”
“I can’t wear black underwear with this.” She held up the pale floral print sundress she’d just picked out.
“You’re right. You should just go natural.”
The comment stirred a fantasy of Rance sitting next to her on the plane as they both headed for Camp E.D.E.N., his hand on her knee, sliding beneat
h the hem of the new sundress, up the inside of her thigh to the very naked heart of her…
Heat zigzagged through her body. Her nipples tingled and her thighs clenched. She stiffened.
Reality check. She wasn’t supposed to react to him. She’d promised herself not to react to him. Her days of lusting after Rance McGraw were completely over.
O-V-E-R.
Even if she had fallen from grace in the airport storage closet. That had been a cold, calculated move on his part to mess up her plans. Besides, she hadn’t initiated the kiss. He had.
Which meant she hadn’t broken her promise to herself.
She frowned at him. “Don’t you have some shopping of your own to do?” Without waiting for a reply, she turned and moved a few steps away toward a stack of T-shirts.
“I though I’d help you out.” He shook his head at a T-shirt she picked up and reached for a skimpy tank top. “If you want sexy, this is the way to go.”
“Thanks, but no thanks. I can manage fine on my own.” She ignored the tank top and busied herself reaching for a cap-sleeved white tee, the words Island Princess spelled out in pink rhinestones.
“Maybe so, but I figure I owe you. You’re missing today’s workshops because of me.”
“Which was your goal in the first place. So why the sudden touch of guilt?”
“I said I would keep an eye on you and keep you out of trouble. I didn’t say I would stop you.”
“So you didn’t purposely try to make me miss my flight?”
“Trust me. That wasn’t what I was thinking when I kissed you.”
“It was just a convenient by-product.” When he didn’t deny the statement, she added, “So helping me pick out clothes will ease your conscience?”
Tall, Tanned & Texan Page 5
