Her gaze darted through the wide expanse of the reception area for the hotel and saw no sign of him. Vicki debated sitting down but decided to stand near the entry to the lounge area where they’d met, keeping the dark and unoccupied area to her back. Feeling foolish that she might have spent time readying herself for a date that was never to be, her cheeks grew pink with embarrassment.
“Timely arrival. I like that.” His breath tickled her ear as he spoke, his silent approach through the closed bar area having allowed him such proximity without her knowledge.
Her shoulders stiffened, and she turned to him.
“So why were you late?” she demanded.
“Oh, feisty in the morning, are we? I wasn’t late. In fact, it’s precisely nine o’clock right now. Not that I won’t ever keep you waiting, but if I do, there will be a reason.” His hand brushed lightly up her arm, the gentle touch in direct contradiction to the stern look on his face.
Seeing what she thought was anger in his eyes, she frowned and withdrew slightly.
His features relaxing, he clasped her hand. She marveled at how small her hand felt in his, making her feel almost petite, when at five feet nine, she was actually somewhat tall for a woman. Nothing about her was diminutive, but somehow, next to him, she felt just a little helpless and lost. The fierceness she sometimes saw in his eyes and the tickle of fear it incited only fueled that feeling. Ironically, his size and bearing combined to make her feel protected as well.
Michael guided her to the exit.
“We’re not eating at the restaurant?” she asked, confused. Not that he’d said specifically that they’d eat there, but she’d assumed it, and her buried feelings that he might be a crazy stalker nagged from the depths of their exile.
He didn’t answer her. Approaching the first taxi in the line, he opened the door for her. Their joined hands allowed him to support her as she entered, and he lightly touched the top of her head to be sure she didn’t bump it getting in the car. She remembered he was a cop and wondered if that was an automatic reaction on his part; she smirked at the thought. Then she realized he still hadn’t answered her question and a frown took over.
After she was seated, he closed the door and walked to the other side. She realized what he was doing after she was already almost completely on the other side, so she slid back to allow him a place to sit behind the driver. He seemed to frown at her again, and she wondered why he was interested in her if everything she did made him so unhappy.
He gave an address to the driver and finally answered Vicki’s question. She had grown extremely frustrated at his lack of response, the annoyance showing on her face. He extended his hand, his index finger tracing the worry lines between her brows before gently stroking down the side of her face.
“There’s a much better place. It’s not touristy, and the food and the view are spectacular. It tends to be insanely crowded before work hours, but by now it should be much less hectic.” He looked through the windshield at the road, studied the surroundings. “It’s not far. Maybe ten minutes or so,” he offered. “Should be plenty of time for you to tell me what you were reading on your balcony this morning.”
Vicki’s cheeks flushed deep red at his question. How did he know she had been reading on her balcony? The fear that she was now alone with a possessive stalker gripped her chest even as the humiliation that he might have seen her becoming aroused while she enjoyed herself in what she thought was the privacy of her own personal space washed over her.
“Just as I suspected. Were you doing something naughty this morning, sweetheart?” Once again he stroked her cheek with his finger. This time, though, the line he traced continued down her throat, along the rise of her collarbone, and finally down the strap of her dress until he brushed his finger along the side of her breast. “Your balcony is almost directly across from mine, so I’ve had the pleasure of watching you every morning since you arrived.”
Her gaze dropped to her lap.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’m a grown woman, and there wasn’t anything naughty…” She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders. “It’s not polite to spy on people,” she ended with an attempt at righteous indignation.
“Look at me, Victoria.”
She had no desire to face him, to face the humiliation of having been spied upon—knowing he’d watched her all week. There had been mornings, she knew, where she’d touched herself, tried to relieve some of the frustration of her unsuccessful attempts to find satisfaction while trying to adhere to the mission statement. Did he see me? Did he…?
“Look. At. Me.” His voice brokered no dissent. In spite of her shame, she dragged her gaze up the line of his muscular chest, past his luscious mouth, to finally meet his stare. She frowned.
“You’re a beautiful woman. Seeing a beautiful woman enjoying herself, however she chose to do so, was my great fortune.”
Her eyes widened in wonder at his words, although she was still mortified that he had been watching her, invading her privacy.
“I told you I’d been watching you. I’m drawn to you. I don’t know why, but I am. And I think you feel it too.”
She let out a long breath, her body finally relaxing after having wound itself progressively tighter since her panic in the lobby.
“We can talk more about that later, then. We’re here.”
His words drew her attention back to her surroundings. The taxi had arrived at what appeared to be a nondescript home in a small neighborhood retail area. It wasn’t a place for tourists. A small grocery store, shops, and what looked like individual offices were scattered along the street: doctors, dentists, maybe even lawyers. The only thing that made the place they’d come to look like it might not be someone’s house was the large parking area, only half filled with cars and mopeds.
Before she could think, the taxi was leaving and Michael was escorting her through the entryway. A very large, very dark-skinned woman broke into a wide smile when she saw him step through the door; she rushed from behind the counter, hands extended.
“Ah, Detective Michael! What brings you to my door this fine morning, and who is this beautiful lady friend you have with you? My Samuel said you were on the island but that you were too busy to visit your Mama Maddie! Ridíkulo, I tell him! And here you are!” Pulling him into a tight embrace, the woman looked as if she could crush him, or at least smother him in her breasts. He relaxed into her hug, kissing both her cheeks before pulling back.
“Mama Maddie, Samuel was right that I was busy, but you know I had to see you. This lovely lady is Victoria Simpson. I’m surprised Nick didn’t tell you. He promised to set the gazebo for me this morning.”
“Oh, my Nicolas left instructions for the setup but didn’t tell me it was for you, the devil. He was called away to the station. Even in retirement, they work him like a dog, you know!” The woman quickly shuffled them to the veranda. Vicki’s breath caught when they walked through the slatted doors. A small lagoon opened up to the beautiful azure of the Caribbean Sea, where small pleasure boats, large cruise ships, and the inevitable oil tanker dotted the horizon.
Maddie led them to the gazebo, chattering all the while, firing questions at Vicki and admonishing glances at Michael as she assessed the couple before her.
“You behave yourself, Detective Michael. This one here, she seems like a nice lady, so don’t make me regret the way I’m going to spoil you this morning.” She astonished Vicki when she pulled her into a hug, followed by swatting Michael on the arm as she walked away.
As Maddie departed, Michael held out a chair for Vicki. She had laughed along with the woman, her joy and energy infectious, but she had quite a few questions.
Michael seemed to read her mind.
“Maddie’s husband and I worked a case together a while back. Nick. This place has been in his family for years, but once he retired, he really put his energy into making it something special. Maddie is the queen of the place, holding court from the kitchen. They
know everyone and everyone knows them. Samuel is their son, and he’s a cop like his father. I make a point of reaching out to them whenever I come to the island.”
Vicki was curious about everything, particularly the case that had brought him here and how often he returned. She started to ask, but he placed a finger to her lips.
“All in good time, sweetheart. First, take some fruit, so we don’t offend Maddie. If she comes back with the pastechi and we’re not eating, she’ll be insulted.” The way he was with Maddie and the way the woman clearly adored him gave Vicki a sense of security. Crazy stalkers don’t have fans like that, right?
Vicki put some papaya and mango in a bowl, along with some melon, before she asked him what pastechi was, worried about offending Maddie by appearing to be afraid of her breakfast.
“Basically it’s an empanada. Aruba’s got a lot of different cultures blended together. So the food is really interesting. I’m sure you’ve seen that during the week, but breakfast almost always includes pastechi.” He laughed before adding, “I think you can get them at McDonald’s here.”
Her eyes rolled back in her head at the first bite of mango. It was moist and sweet and delicious, and she moaned as the juice exploded in her mouth and slid down her throat.
“Are you trying to kill me?” Michael asked, his voice tight and strained.
Her eyes flew open, a blush rising to her cheeks.
Leaning forward conspiratorially, he whispered, “I can’t wait until I make you do that.”
Vicki studied her bowl of fruit and managed to contain her reactions as she ate the rest of what she had taken. Normally she would have engaged in some witty banter to fill the silence, but for reasons she didn’t understand, she was reluctant to do that with Michael. It was as if it would mean something very different with him. She couldn’t put her finger on why that was, but she noticed an unfamiliar feeling building. She was unbelievably aroused.
Mama Maddie brought more food, the local specialty Michael had promised as well as other things Vicki didn’t recognize. Everything she tasted was delicious—including the Dutch pancakes she insisted would make her explode if she even tried a bite. Michael occasionally offered her something from his plate, which felt extremely intimate. She didn’t refuse him, and the strange feeling of arousal continued to grow as he studied her mouth pulling the food from his fork.
She asked about the case he’d worked with Nick. It seemed unusual for a detective from Syracuse, New York, to work a case with the police in Aruba. Michael explained that it was a missing persons’ case he’d investigated several years earlier. The girl was an Aruban national who was a student at the university, and she’d left the Carrier Dome with her friends after seeing a concert and disappeared. Her boyfriend had reported her missing, and Michael caught the case.
“It turned out that the girl had run away with an ex-boyfriend. She was embarrassed that she was flunking school, didn’t know how to tell her family, and her ex offered to help her out. He wasn’t such a nice guy, though, so we were lucky to track her down. He’d taken her to Puerto Rico. He was planning to pimp her out in San Juan, but we found her first.” He leaned back, looking out at the water, lost in thought. “Nick was my contact here, helped me by interviewing friends and relatives on the island. He’s the one who found out she’d hooked back up with the ex. We worked that case pretty hard. Thought she was worse than missing for a while. Nick and I got friendly, and the first time I came down here for a vacation, Mama Maddie kind of adopted me.”
As she got to know him better, Vicki decided he wasn’t a stalker. He was just a cop, wired like one and doing what came naturally. He wasn’t wrong about the draw she felt toward him, either, and it set a flurry of butterflies aloft in her stomach to think he felt it too. But then why did he always seem so annoyed with her? She shoved the thought aside to enjoy the moment.
The view from the gazebo was breathtaking. The coastline jutted out behind the restaurant, providing a view of the shore all along the southwest side of the island. Everything from boat docks to manicured white-sand beaches was visible in both directions, but the view of the ocean gave the gazebo’s setting an almost ethereal feeling. If you looked straight out, nothing in your peripheral vision would tell you that you were landlocked.
Both of them took in the view, the silence not uncomfortable. Mama Maddie chatted them up for a while before walking them back to the door when Michael told her they’d be heading back. There was a taxi waiting for them in the parking lot, and Mama Maddie gave them a wink, assuring them that the driver had only waited a few minutes, and she’d fed him well for his trouble.
Once settled in the back of the car, Michael turned to her, holding out his hand. When she reached out to place her hand in his, he began lightly stroking her palm.
“I’d like you to join me in my suite. Only if you’re comfortable, but I’d like to talk to you more about this connection between us.” She studied him, and he paused, watching her closely, almost studying her. “It’s a discussion I think would best be held in private, but it means you have to trust me. I hope you’ve learned enough about me to know I wouldn’t harm you.” His finger under her chin focused her attention. Even though she had already been looking at him, once he touched her, everything but his face blurred, becoming irrelevant.
“In fact, your safety is something I feel very strongly about.”
She wanted him to kiss her, but he simply held her gaze, waiting for an answer.
“All right, Michael,” she replied. From the look on his face, she could tell he was waiting for more. “I trust you,” she whispered.
“Good girl.” It was barely a whisper, floating to her on a breath. A surge of warmth—and pride—spread through her at his words, but before she could process what that feeling might mean, he leaned forward and kissed her.
The gentle brush of his lips against hers quickly escalated, his head angling to possess her mouth more fully. He nipped at her lower lip, and she opened her mouth, his tongue exploring. Moving his hand to the back of her neck, he stroked gently before grabbing her hair and tilting her head, allowing his mouth to claim her.
The man could kiss. His free hand cupped her cheek for a moment before dropping to her lap. As if he were smoothing her dress, his open palm stroked the outside of her thigh, the pressure causing her hemline to pull up and draw down with each movement. His lips were constantly moving, pressing against the corner of her mouth, leaving butterfly kisses on her neck, then returning to meet her lips and let his tongue explore her. He pulled her tongue into his mouth, sucking on it in a way that made her insides clench, imagining that suction applied to her most sensitive areas.
Her nipples grew taut, aching for contact. She arched her back, and he moved his lips to her ear.
“So responsive,” he whispered. She shivered at his words.
As quickly as the kiss had begun, it ended. As they pulled up to the front of the hotel, he ran his fingers through her hair before releasing it and slid his other hand up her body, his thumb brushing over a nipple as he moved to cup her face in his hands.
Placing a quick but firm kiss directly on her lips, he smiled at her warmly. “I so look forward to discovering you, Victoria.”
Chapter Five
He could sense the confusion and fear in her, fluttering beneath the surface. Her control was obvious—this was a woman who managed things, fixed things, decided things—but underneath it, she was lost. Michael knew she was lost because he’d watched her try to fix herself for days, failing miserably. It was obvious to him that she needed help.
He hoped to God it would become obvious to her.
Normally he would have moved slowly, patiently. As a dom, he had mastered patience and self-control. But being here put them on a deadline. Samuel had confirmed his suspicions that her vacation was nearly over, once Michael had convinced him to check up on her. Cop connections could be incredibly helpful at times.
Although Michael had another week on the
island ahead of him, Vicki was scheduled to check out in two days, booked on a flight back to New York late Sunday morning. Knowing how to work with what he had available to him was another skill he’d mastered, personally and professionally, but that didn’t mean he had to like it.
Awareness of her discomfort didn’t mean he was going to assuage it. It was good for her to be slightly flustered. As long as she harbored just a little bit of that insecurity, it would be harder for her to process everything and reach an undesirable conclusion. As a person accustomed to making plans and decisions, if she became too wary, she’d likely decide to bolt and stick to that decision, no matter what he said or did to try to change her mind.
He guided her through the door, then closed it behind them. She stopped only a couple of steps into the entryway, and he stepped around her.
“Can I get you something to drink?”
Her gaze took in the space. “This is different from my room.”
Michael chuckled, noticing her eyes were wide, taking in the suite and looking not just a little overwhelmed. “I’m on the time-share side of the place. It’s a two-bedroom unit, so it’s different.”
“Oh,” she muttered quietly. Then she began to fidget, wringing her hands as she looked at her feet and blushed. “You didn’t come alone?” When she finally made eye contact with him, her eyes held his with a hard glare. “Do you have a family?”
The mental leap she’d taken was Olympic level to him. On one hand, he was impressed with her bravery in asking the question, but on the other…it meant she didn’t really trust him at all. This will never do.
“Victoria, I told you I was single, and I told you I was here alone. I don’t appreciate you doubting me.” Her gaze dropped to the floor again, her blush deepening at his tone as much as his words. He stepped closer to her, lifting her chin to bring her gaze back to his. “I own a place like this in South Carolina, and I traded it to come here. I find there are times when having two bedrooms is…convenient. I also like having space.” Although his glare softened as he saw she was embarrassed for jumping to conclusions, he added gruffly, “What I don’t like is being accused of lying.”
Mission Statement Page 4
