by AJ Matthews
“Oh, don't thank me.” Kayla's voice lilted as she locked gazes with Vince and beamed. “Thank the Smart Alec.”
The mere mention of the GPS brought an onslaught of goosebumps on Dana’s arms. She rubbed them vigorously in a futile attempt to push them down. “Don't tell me it's planning our meals, too?”
“No need for it to do that,” Kayla answered with a smile. “Tonight's our annual carnival.”
While Vince finished checking them in, Dana scanned the lobby, which was as cold and quiet as a mausoleum. Except for the exotic flowers, the area was empty. Not a single person to be seen or heard. Where were the other guests? What about the noise associated with a resort? The emptiness caused her to shudder as the air seemed to be sucked out of the lobby. Hair on the back of her neck stood on end.
“The porter will bring your luggage to your room.” Kayla handed Vince the key card to their suite.
“Thanks, Kayla.” Smiling, he pushed away from the marble countertop. He whipped out his cell phone and turned it on. “I finally got a signal, Dana.”
“Vince?” Dana said.
He turned to face her. “Yeah?”
She sidled up to him. “Look around and tell me what you see.”
As his gaze moved across the empty room, he frowned and stretched to his full height. “Uh, Kayla? Where is everybody? Don’t tell me we’re the only ones here.”
“Oh, no, sir. It'll fill up soon enough when the other guests arrive for the carnival.”
His eyes widened, and the corners of his mouth curled upward. “Sounds like it might be fun.”
Stepping back, Dana eyeballed a colorful poster displayed on an easel next to the counter—an advertisement similar to the ones posted at the airport. It read: Tenth Annual Carnival Tonight. Dancing, Catch of the Day Barbeque, Contests.
Focusing only on Vince, Kayla giggled. “Hope you can make it to the carnival, Mr. King. We've never had a famous movie producer before.”
“I wouldn't miss it for the world,” he said, puffing out his chest.
Chapter Three
Vince swiped the keycard and pushed open the door to Room Three-Hundred—the Honeymoon Suite. The open living room was decorated in shades of beige, cream and off-white. Directly ahead, sheer drapes opened to a breathtaking view of the ocean. A U-shaped sofa stood in the center of the room. In front of the sofa—on an ornate carpet—a glass-top coffee table held two champagne flutes and a bottle of champagne chilling in an ice bucket.
Dana waited for Vince to carry her over the threshold, as he had on their wedding night.
Instead, he left her standing in the open doorway and entered the living room. Once inside, he pulled his cell from his pocket, started punching numbers on the keypad, and lifted his phone to his ear. “This is Vince. Tell me. Did he sign? Is he on board?”
Blinking back tears of disappointment, Dana’s heart dropped to the bottom of her feet. “No, Vince. You promised. No work.” She slammed the door to their suite, trying to get his attention. But he didn't even look her way.
Pacing and clutching the phone to his ear with one hand, he raked his hair with the other.
“Business as usual, huh, Vince?”
She wanted to lay it all out in front of him now, but after a long plane ride and the stress of navigating an unfamiliar vehicle along arduous mountain roads, she was too exhausted to argue. Instead, she headed into the bedroom, kicked off her sandals, and flopped backwards onto the white satin duvet that covered the king-sized bed. Hoping to catch a cat nap, she closed her eyes.
Someone lay next to her and woke Dana from an erotic dream. “Vince?” She glanced at the clock on the nightstand and realized she’d been asleep for over an hour.
He chuckled. “You were expecting someone else?”
Gazing at him, she smiled. His response signaled that he was in a playful mood. Maybe their trip was taking a turn for the better.
“As a matter of fact…”
He rolled onto his side and kissed her. “You were right, babe. I did promise to put work aside. This is our time. Work can wait. For now—while we’re here—it’s just you and me…” He patted the mattress. “…right here.”
Thank God he'd sobered up, because she was in the mood for a hell of a lot more fun than just cuddling. “Oh, Vince.” Bracketing his face between her hands, she pressed a solid kiss on his lips.
“That’s what I’m talking about.” As he outlined her face with his fingertips and ran his thumb lightly over her bottom lip, his breathing became ragged. “You still do it for me, babe.” He kissed her harder and deeper. “After all these years, I've never found another woman who even comes close.”
“You’ve been looking?” she asked, her heart racing. Whenever their banter turned flirtatious, they usually ended up naked. Heat traveled through her body and settled lower.
He kissed her cheek…and her neck. “I stopped looking the second I saw you behind the cash register at Macy’s.” Reaching under her dress, he caressed her thigh. He moved his hand higher and cupped her mound.
Finding it impossible to resist, she ground against his palm.
He got the hint and slipped his fingers inside her panties.
A loud knock on the door to their suite put a halt to their lovemaking.
“Don’t. Answer. It,” she whispered. “Maybe they’ll…go away…”
“Our luggage.” He yanked his hand from her vee and left their bed, leaving her wanting more. “Don’t move. I'll be right back. I'm not done with you yet.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” She rolled onto her side and watched him disappear into the next room. This was the man she fell in love with. The attentive Vince. The sensual Vince. The man who filled her with desire.
From the living room, conversation between her husband and the bellhop was muffled. Though Dana was unable to hear their discussion, from the upbeat tone of Vince’s voice, she could tell he was in a good mood. She smiled in anticipation of spending the rest of the day in bed, making love with her husband—just as they’d done on their honeymoon. Now, ten years later, she found herself once more in the honeymoon suite. Hopefully, their vacation would be a repeat of the most glorious week of her life.
The door to the suite closed, signaling the bellhop's departure.
Vince's cell rang and he answered it on the first ring.
Damn! You have got to be kidding. As she feared, the call took longer than expected, and her romantic mood faded.
Music drifted up from the courtyard.
Curious, she left the bed and headed toward the French doors leading to the balcony. Needing to take in the natural beauty the resort offered, she stepped outside. Admiring the spectacular view caused her to gasp. Beyond the courtyard, a row of tall palms bordered the white sandy beach. And beyond the beach, a half-dozen fishing boats dotted the turquoise waters.
Her gaze swept to the white wrought iron fences that lined the left and right sides of the courtyard, extending to water’s edge. Barbed-wire crowned the fences. Barbed wire? The same picketers, holding the same signs, had moved from the front gate and were stationed outside the fence to the right.
Her hand flew to cover her mouth, and she backed into the bedroom. “Vince. Come here,” she cried out. Turning to face him, she motioned for him to join her.
Still holding his cell, he glanced at her.
“Hurry,” she called in a voice barely audible. She struggled to breathe as she stared at the nightmare playing out before her eyes. Who were these people? Why were they still here?
His brows drew together as he darted into the bedroom. “What’s wrong?”
“Something weird is going on.” Hurrying to his side, she grabbed his arm and pulled him onto the balcony. She jerked her chin in the direction of the picketers. “Look. They're here, too.”
Vince pocketed his phone and stared at the protestors outside the fence.
“And…the fence, Vince. Why does the hotel need barbed wire?”
As he stared at
the fence, his jaw went slack. “I have no idea. To keep the Jesus freaks out?”
“This whole situation…the protestors…the barbed wire…it's really creeping me out. Something's not right. I’m calling the front desk right now to find out why those people are picketing.”
He draped his arm around her shoulder and led her to the bed. “Forget about ‘em, babe. They’re nothing but a bunch of religious fanatics who have a beef with the resort—for whatever reason. You’re making something out of nothing.” He set his cell on the nightstand. “I told the powers-that-be not to call me for a couple of days. I have more important things to take care of than looking for the right screenplay.” He turned her to face him and ran his hands over her shoulders and down her back. When he reached her ass, he squeezed it and pulled her closer.
Her breathing grew ragged as she reached between them and stroked him.
“I need to talk to you.” His voice broke and grew husky. “As long as we're on a romantic getaway, how about we renew our vows? What do you think?”
What did she think? She wiped at the tears filling her eyes. “I think that would be perfect,” she whispered.
He slipped his arms around her waist and drew her to his chest. Pushing her hair behind her ears, he showered her face with kisses and worked his way down her neck. “Remember our honeymoon?”
“Uh huh.” The memory of the most erotic week of her life made her want him inside her. Dana sucked in a breath, desire pumping through her veins.
“I want to feel that way again.”
“So do I.” She held his face in her hands and brushed her lips against his. She opened her mouth, and he slipped his tongue inside. As their tongues battled, he groaned. Overcome with lust, she begged him to hurry.
They scrambled to undress and left their clothes in a heap on the floor.
Vince pulled the duvet from the bed and let it fall. He scooped Dana into his arms, set her on top of the ivory satin sheets, and covered her body with his. He cupped her breasts and gently squeezed them. His kisses became deeper, more passionate.
Needing him inside, she moaned, gyrated, and lifted her hips. To give Vince easier access, she spread her legs and adjusted her position so their bodies touched in the only place that mattered.
Enveloped in his arms, with their chests pressed together, she closed her eyes to enjoy their hearts beat as one. Outside, music played. Bodies joined, they moved to the rhythm of the drums, beating faster and faster. “Oh, Vince,” she whispered.
He drove deeper, pulled out, and slammed into her.
This was the man she fell in love with and married. Getting close now, she begged him to hurry, afraid she’d come before him. She held back her climax, waiting. When she felt his body tense, she let go and together, they visited paradise. Totally spent and covered with perspiration, they held each other and rode wave after wave of aftershocks. She’d never felt more beautiful or sexy. Better than she’d felt in a very long time. Making love with him today erased his flaws. His flirting. His wandering eye…his business—none of it mattered anymore. What was important was that he always came home to her. She loved him and always would. “Vince?”
“Mmm?” Still breathing heavy, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled onto his back—taking her with him, so she lay on top. He ran his fingertips up and down her back.
No longer able to stifle her insecurity and paranoia, she just had to ask. “Where's your wedding ring?”
“Back home,” he answered matter-of-factly. “The band got too loose and I didn't want to lose it. I was going to ask if you'd take it to get resized when we get back. Will you?”
Relief flooded over her. “Of course.” Recently, he’d been trying to shed a few pounds, so it made sense.
“Let’s not move from this bed until tomorrow,” he said, twirling a lock of her hair around his index finger. “I’ll be ready for round two in a few minutes.”
Round two. Tears stung the back of her eyes.
On the nightstand, his cell rang.
He scooped it up and turned it off. “I’d rather have sex.”
“Oh, baby,” she whispered and kissed him. “Vince?”
“Yeah?”
As long as he was in a loving mood, she needed to ask a question that had been bothering her for years. “Do you regret that I could never give you children?” Her voice broke as she revealed her deepest pain.
He gasped, drawing in a deep breath. “Sweetheart, being with you is all that matters. Sure, kids might have been nice when I was younger, but thinking back, I would have made a lousy dad. Why are you asking? Do you want kids?”
She played with the hair on his chest. “I’ve thought about it. About maybe adopting…”
“Hey, if that’s what you want. Let’s do it. Unless we’re too old. We’re both pushing forty, you know.”
As he kissed her, music, combined with loud, festive voices, drifted up through the open French doors and into their suite.
“The carnival.” Dana started to get up.
“Fuck the carnival. I'd rather stay here and fu—”
She playfully slapped his arm. “So would I. But everyone's been making such a big deal about it. About us. The least we can do is make an appearance.”
Chapter Four
Following a second round of lovemaking, Dana and Vince showered and changed into comfortable clothing suitable for a carnival. Vince wore tan slacks and a black polo shirt. Dana chose a yellow floral blouse and white Bermuda shorts.
She slipped on a designer fanny pack filled with the keycard to their suite, her cell phone, and cash. In case they decided to check out local clubs later, she tossed in her driver’s license and keys to the Bentley.
They left their suite and strolled, arm in arm, into the massive, brightly-lit courtyard. To their left, torches lined a path leading to where guests danced to a Caribbean band. To the right were gaming tents. Near the beach, a large man was lighting barbeque grills.
Baited by the mesmerizing Caribbean music, Dana held Vince’s hand. “Remember how we danced at our wedding?”
“Sure do.” He squeezed her hand.
She jerked her head in the direction of the couples dancing. “How about it?” she asked, swaying to the rhythm.
“Anything you want, babe.” He kissed her forehead and led her in the direction of the dance floor.
Before reaching their destination, several guests—men and women alike—hurried to greet them. Vince was obviously the center of attention. But Dana didn’t mind. He’d worked hard to achieve celebrity status and deserved all the accolades he received from fans.
“You're the biggest celebrity we've ever had!” a gentleman gushed.
“Look who we found!” another man shouted.
Although his fame interfered with their personal life, Dana still harbored a sense of pride over being married to a show biz icon. She waited for Vince to glance her way, and when their gazes locked, he showed her a slight smile and shrugged. She laughed and signaled him to go.
He left her side and was quickly surrounded by a group of men who patted him on the back and shook his hand. Someone handed him a drink.
As the hypnotic rhythm pulsed throughout the courtyard, she turned Vince over to his admirers and wandered to the barbeque area. “What's for dinner?” she asked the man behind the huge grills who poked at the coals.
“Local fare. We'll start grillin' when the fishermen bring me the catch of the day. And from the looks of it,” he jerked his head toward the dock, “it’s goin’ to be a mighty big fish. One of the biggest they’ve ever caught.”
In the bay, Dana spotted several small fishing boats near the shore. The thought of fresh seafood made her mouth water. “I can’t wait,” she said.
Nearby, a commotion broke out. Her attention switched from the grills to picketers lined up outside the fence. By now, the group had doubled in size from the number she’d seen from her balcony. Their chanting resumed and grew louder. More frenzied. More ominous.
>
Although the picketers stayed on the other side of the fence, why were they allowed to harass the guests? And what did they mean by ‘the end is near’? Where was security? She scanned the courtyard for men in gray uniforms, but found none.
Two large butcher-block tables were rolled out and came to a stop next to the grills. Several long-bladed knives were lined up on the tabletops. Blades much too large to gut fish. When she saw thick leather straps hanging down the sides of one table, she grew faint. The truth of what was about to take place shook her like a ten-point earthquake.
Vince.
This was no carnival. Something more sinister was happening. She needed to do something to stop the madness—to warn Vince. To save him. But how? Covering her ears, she squeezed her eyes shut, blocking out the infernal drumming which kept her from thinking clearly. Her body shook as she fought to draw breath into her lungs.
Searching the courtyard for her husband, Dana bit her lip, her pulse pounded in her ears. “Vince!” she screamed. But her cries were drowned out by the deafening drumbeat.
Amid a throng of adoring guests, Vince glanced in her direction.
A beautiful woman locked arms with him and drew him farther away.
At lightning speed, a human wall surrounded him. The impenetrable barricade of men faced Vince and chanted in a language Dana couldn't understand. Their voices so intense, the sound made her head spin. Attempts to elbow her way into the crowd failed. She had to warn Vince that he may be in danger. But the more she fought to break through the barrier, the stronger the resistance became.
Temples throbbing, she slapped and pulled at the arms of men hauling away her husband. She shouted for them to stop, but her voice failed and only silent screams called out his name. Knocked to the ground, she struggled to stand, but fell two more times before regaining her footing. Realizing she was the only person who could save her husband, Dana tensed. Determination replaced terror and her voice returned. She had to warn him.
“Vince!” She screamed his name over and over while ramming her way through the crowd, desperate to stop them from killing him.
