But the longer she walked, the more she became convinced that she would need another bargaining chip to ensure she got what she wanted from Mason. Unlimited access to his bed for a week, she feared, would not come easily after the way she’d behaved this morning.
But what if she were useful to him—both in and out of bed? What if she could help him?
Claire stopped in her tracks.
Surely the Cabana Club wouldn’t be open at noon, but maybe she could catch the bartender from last night there prepping for the afternoon and evening crowd. She decided to give it a shot and made a bee-line for the bar.
Five minutes later, she was inside the cool darkness of the club, but no one else was in sight. Since the front door was open, she assumed someone was indeed in the back prepping, and she headed for the back of the bar toward the kitchen.
“Can I help you?” a male voice called from inside as her footsteps echoed throughout the silent building.
Claire followed the sound of the voice, and found the bartender named Mike from the night before flipping through what looked like an inventory sheet.
“Actually, you can. We met last night? At the bar?”
He looked her over in a way that was half friendly and half lascivious, then smiled. “Sure, I remember you.”
“I’m hoping you can tell me who the man that talked to me was.”
His expression turned neutral. “You’ll have to be a little more specific. I see hundreds of people a night out there.”
“Maybe early to mid-fifties, tall, gray hair, light blue eyes. He called me Ashley, and you corrected him.”
“Oh, Mr. Casey. He’s one of our VIP guests. We have some customers who spend more than their share of money here, and they get some special treatment.”
“Seemed like you two knew each other for some other reason,” Claire pressed.
Something passed over his eyes—suspicion?—but he kept his expression neutral and shrugged. “Nope.”
She’d have to work some magic if she wanted to get any further with this guy. But something nagged at her—if the man last night had been a VIP, could it be that part of Mason’s special treatment for him was some kind of sex-service-for-hire thing?
Could she trust Mason to tell her the truth? Maybe he had Lucy fooled, and maybe he was sleazier than everyone thought.
He had, after all, been more than ready to have sex with her right there on the dance floor of his own nightclub last night. He hadn’t hesitated for a moment.
But then, neither had she.
“Who was Ashley? His date for the evening?”
The bartender shrugged. “It’s not my business.”
Okay, she needed to try a different tack—one that rarely failed her. She smiled and shifted her hips ever so slightly, changing her body language from guarded to come-hither.
“A funny thing happened last night, you know.”
“What’s that?”
“I left something for you on the bar, but someone else found it.”
He smiled, interested now, as she’d known he would be. Unlike Mason, most men were painfully predictable.
“Oh yeah? What was it?”
“My room number. Imagine my surprise when a middle-aged guy in a diaper showed up instead of you.”
Mike the bartender blinked in surprise. “A diaper? And nothing else.”
“A really big diaper and a raincoat.”
“You’re joking.”
“I wouldn’t joke about that.”
“Did you let him in?”
“Do I look like the kind of girl who’d go for a guy in a diaper?”
He shrugged. “I’ve seen quite a bit in the short time I’ve worked here. It doesn’t surprise me the weird stuff people go for.”
“It’s definitely not my choice of fetishes.”
“Whatever floats your boat, babe. That’s my motto.”
“So that’s what you say to women in bed?” she said, feeling a little sleazy now.
He grinned as he lifted a crate of vegetables onto the counter. “You can find out firsthand if you want.”
Claire groaned inwardly. She’d need another shower after this conversation. “Tempting offer,” she said.
“Mondays are my nights off, if you’re still going to be around tomorrow.”
“I haven’t decided, but I think I will be. Maybe we could meet up for dinner?”
Mike D. eyed her, as if trying to decide whether she was worth suffering through a dinner for. She decided to cut to the chase.
“Listen,” she said. “Truth is, I like it rough. I’m sort of a closet sadist, if you know what I mean.”
“Like I said, whatever floats your boat,” he said, turning to the sink to wash some baby carrots.
“Do you like it rough?”
He turned back to her. “I don’t mind an occasional pair of handcuffs, but getting spanked really isn’t my thing.”
“Know anyone who does go for it?”
His expression turned neutral again. She apparently hadn’t done as good a job gaining his trust through sexual banter as she’d hoped. “I’ll keep you in mind if I hear of anyone looking for that kind of thing.”
“Thanks,” she said, ashamed of herself for not having the balls to push further. “I’d appreciate that. I’ll be around the bar tonight.”
“I’ll be here,” he said. “Now if you don’t mind, I’ve gotta get this food prepped.”
Claire left the club, feeling a mixture of relief at escaping her fake flirtation with the bartender and disappointment at not having gotten the information she wanted.
As she headed for Mason’s office, she noted that there was no shortage of guests out determined to have a good time in spite of the lousy weather. Even the beach, visible in the distance, was fairly crowded, and the pool she passed along the way was just as busy as it might have been on a sunny day. She supposed the kind of people who came to Escapade weren’t necessarily put off by the threat of a hurricane, probably even considered it an added element of excitement.
Just as she had last night….
Having gotten nowhere with Mike, she decided the best way to get what she wanted from Mason was with the direct approach. She’d tell him she wasn’t leaving until she had the relief she needed. And maybe a little heartfelt apology would be in order to smooth over the rough edges she’d left this morning.
The clerks at the reception desk were busy with the mass weekend changeover of guests—many checking out and many arriving—and didn’t see her slip into the reception area. She followed a sign that read Administrative Offices down a hallway until she found the door that sported a brass placard with the name Mason Walker engraved on it.
She tapped on the door, and Mason’s voice called, “Come in,” confirming that her guess about his location was correct.
Claire was about to go in when a woman’s voice behind her said, “I’m sorry, miss, but this area is for employees only.”
She swung around and smiled at the resort employee. “Oh, I’m a friend of Mason’s.”
“You can’t just come wandering back here and knock on his door like this. You’ll need to go back to the reception desk and—”
“There’s a huge line out there.” Claire reached for the doorknob but the woman inserted herself between Claire and the door.
“You cannot disturb Mr. Walker!”
The door jerked open and Mason stood there looking between the two of them. “What’s going on out here?”
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Walker, this woman just—”
Mason gave Claire a look. “It’s okay, Janine. I know her.”
Janine’s bubble burst, she glared at Claire and nodded. “Okay, sir. Sorry to disturb you.”
Mason stepped aside and let Claire in. “Maybe you should hire a few armed guards if you really want to keep out riffraff like me.”
He closed the door and stood there, his arms crossed over his chest. Clearly ready to send her packing at any moment. “What’s up,
Claire? What are you doing here?”
“I might ask you the same thing,” she said, smiling.
“This is my office.”
“You work on Sundays, too? Isn’t that a bit extreme?”
Mason leaned against his desk and sighed. “I’m not going to defend my work habits to you, but no, I don’t normally work Sundays unless it’s necessary.”
“Let me guess. Today there’s a certain female you’re trying to put out of your head. But it’s not working, is it?”
“Not when she won’t leave me the hell alone, no.”
“I just wanted to let you know I’m not leaving today as planned.”
Mason’s gaze narrowed almost imperceptibly. “Tomorrow, then?”
“No.”
“Because?”
“Because I changed my mind. I owe you an apology—I overreacted to your questions this morning.”
He didn’t bother to hide his shock, and Claire had to smile. She’d never been good at admitting she was wrong, but for the right cause, she could say anything to get what she wanted.
“Apology accepted, so now you can leave, right?”
“You need my help, Mason.”
“I do?”
“I can help you get information from Mike D.”
“That’s not necessary.” Mason’s mouth was set, firm, uncompromising. Probably the same expression he used to fire employees and dump girlfriends.
“You’re his boss—you’re everyone’s boss here at the resort. Do you really think anyone will be forthcoming with you about nefarious goings-on among their fellow employees?”
“If they want this resort to be a success, and if they want to keep their jobs, yes.”
“That’s a little naive, Mason.”
“Don’t you have some havoc to wreak somewhere?”
“You’re not getting rid of me that easily,” she said, skirting his desk and closing the distance between them.
“Nothing with you is easy. That much, I’ve got figured out.”
“I was pretty easy last night.”
Last night—just the thought of their actions on the dance floor and in Mason’s suite made her pulse quicken.
Mason cast a glance at her chest, then back up at her eyes. “Why do you want to stay here? I thought you said you’d had enough of me.”
Busted.
“I may have told a little untruth in the heat of the moment.”
“You haven’t had enough of me?”
Claire licked her lower lip, biding her time. “I’m afraid not.”
She hooked her finger through his belt loop and pulled him toward her. He didn’t offer much resistance, but instead stood and let their bodies come together. Yet, his arms remained at his sides.
Claire had to look up at him now since he was half a foot taller than her. She could see trouble brewing in his eyes. Even more trouble than usual.
“Guess your plan wasn’t as foolproof as you thought it would be, hmm?”
“Guess not,” she said, surprised by the uneasy sound of her own voice. She willed some sass into her next statement. “It might have been poor judgment on my part to think it would only take one night.”
“So what are you saying?”
“Maybe we need more like a week.”
“We?”
“Don’t tell me last night left you completely satisfied—”
“I doubt I could get much more satisfied than I was when I woke up this morning.”
“You know what I mean.”
He sighed. “Yeah, I do. You really think a week will work?”
“Why wouldn’t it? We can’t stand each other outside of bed, so a week should be more than enough time. Don’t you think?”
“Thinking doesn’t seem to be part of this equation.”
“Sometimes thinking too hard is a bad idea.”
“You’re the one who thought one night would do the trick. I’m not sure I can buy your logic.”
Claire decided a change of subject would be best. “I’m wondering if you can help me get my reservation extended through next weekend.”
Mason gave her a look that said he wasn’t sure he wanted her around that long, but he went to his computer and sat down, then began typing. She peered over his shoulder at the reservation system, and a minute later he said, “Done.”
“Thanks.”
He turned and smiled at her. “I hope you’ll be recommending Escapade to your clients at the travel agency.”
“So far, so good.” She smiled back. “I’ve found a few members of the staff to be extremely accommodating.”
“I can imagine.”
Claire sat down on the edge of his desk. “I just saw Mike D. at the Cabana Club. It didn’t seem like you’d talked to him or anything.”
“You went looking for him?”
“I was hoping to pry some information out of him to bring to you as a peace offering.”
Mason frowned, the sexy crinkles around the edges of his mouth deepening. He had such a full, sensual mouth, a mouth made for pleasure….
His voice knocked her out of her daze. “That’s very thoughtful of you, but you shouldn’t have done it.”
Claire shrugged. “No harm done.”
Mason leaned back in his leather chair and began to rock, his arms behind his head. “I’ve been debating all morning how to handle this situation.”
“I’m a little surprised you didn’t just fire the bartender.”
“It might be premature. If I can keep a watch on him, I should be able to find out who else is involved and shut the whole operation down at once.”
“Smart thinking.”
“How exactly do you suppose you can get any information out of Mike?”
“I’m already working on it. A little flirting can do wonders.”
“You not only went looking for him, but you flirted with him?”
“I didn’t strip my clothes off or anything.”
“Is that a common reaction you have to men?”
She smiled, leaning in and tracing the outline of his rough jaw with her finger. “Only certain ones.”
7
CLAIRE’S TOUCH was enough to give Mason a hard-on. He was a basket case.
“Still, that was stupid. You could have gotten yourself in trouble out there,” he said, half dreading and half anticipating the fire that would light in her eyes.
He’d never been one to start arguments with women. In fact, he usually avoided conflict at all costs, especially since dealing with his vindictive ex and the Fantasy Ranch fiasco.
But with Claire, his whole approach to the opposite sex had been turned on its head.
“Maybe it was kind of dumb. I promise I won’t pull any more crazy stunts if you let me stick around and help you solve your dominatrix problem.”
“How do you propose to help?” Mason said, almost afraid to hear the answer.
“I think first off, we need to do a little surveillance.”
It sounded like a surprisingly reasonable idea. “Okay, so we’ll go to the Cabana Club tonight and watch what goes on.”
“You can’t just drop into the bar and expect someone to hire a dominatrix in front of you.”
“You have any better ideas?” Mason said, pretty sure he wasn’t going to like her answer.
“You can wear a disguise.” She smiled, and Mason knew he was in trouble.
“You mean like a wig and some funny glasses?”
“Something like that.”
“I don’t think there’s much of a supply of costume gear on the island.”
“What about for the shows?”
Oh, right. Escapade regularly flew in actors and other performers to do shows at the resort, and there was a well-stocked costume area backstage at the theater.
“I don’t know….”
“Come on, show me where the costumes are.”
“This is crazy. I can’t go skulking around my own resort dressed up like Elvis.”
“Not Elvis. I�
��m thinking we could go for more of a pimp look. Long fur coat, some platform shoes—”
“Not a chance.”
“You are seriously no fun.”
“That’s not what you were saying last night.”
“Please. Don’t flatter yourself. I just hadn’t gotten laid in a while.”
Mason’s groin went on alert again at the thought of last night. Yeah, he hadn’t gotten laid in a while either, so maybe that was why he was feeling so rabid for Claire. He made a mental note to stop working so hard and pay more attention to his neglected love life.
“Oh yeah? Having trouble finding a guy who can put up with your mouth?”
“I never have trouble finding a guy.” She stood up and walked to the door. “Let’s go.”
“What kind of guys do you date, anyway?”
“Whatever kind I want.”
“Seriously. Do they let you take off with their cars whenever you want? Do they put up with all your crap without complaining?”
“I like my men to be the silent, physical type. Short on talk and long on action, if you know what I mean.”
“I’m afraid I do.” Mason had her pegged. She was the kind of person who liked to stay in control by surrounding herself with people who wouldn’t stand up to her.
If she wasn’t so damn sexy, she never would have gotten away with such behavior.
“Lead the way to the costumes,” Claire said, rising from his desk and heading for the door.
“Have you had lunch yet?”
“No,” she said, placing her hand on her nonexistent belly. “Now that you mention it, I’m pretty hungry.”
“Let’s grab some lunch then.”
They headed for the nearest restaurant, where every employee tried not to gawk at the sight of Mason with a woman. So far, he’d avoided dating anyone on the island, so making a public appearance with Claire was sure to cause some gossip.
But he also liked to check out what was happening on his resort as often as possible, so this was his chance to not only sample the food but keep an eye on things in general.
He and Claire managed to eat lunch without a single argument ensuing, and by the time they were finished, he was shocked to realize he’d genuinely enjoyed her company outside of bed.
Probably, she was just on her best behavior to ensure she got what she wanted from him. Within a few days, he fully expected them to be getting on each other’s nerves so much she wouldn’t be able to find a flight off the island fast enough.
As Hot As It Gets Page 7
