“I like the way you handle that thing. Kind of reminds me of how you handled something last night.”
Heat rushed to her face as she recalled the taste of his cock. She cleared her throat and tried to refocus. He’d said he was from Baltimore but not much else about himself. “Tell me about your family.” Not that he would if he wanted to keep his pedigree a secret.
Lines fanned out from his eyes and his lips flattened to a thin line. “There’s nothing to tell,” he finally said. “I have no family.”
She tried to imagine life without her three sisters and her mother. They were so close, such a huge part of her world. “None at all?”
“My mother was murdered when I was five. I never knew my father.”
The sadness in his eyes broke her heart. “I’m so sorry. I never would have asked if I thought…”
He covered her hand with his. “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”
But she knew from experience that thinking and talking about those early traumas never really got any easier. She wondered who’d raised him but she’d be prying if she asked.
“What about you?” He sipped his coffee and stared at her expectantly.
“My parents divorced when I was a kid. My sisters and I stayed with our mother.” She dropped his gaze. He didn’t need to know that her father had been abusive although she sensed if she wanted to, she could tell him about it and he wouldn’t judge her. Too bad she had to say goodbye to him today…unless she indulged for one more night.
He’d said he was going to be there for her speech so why not make her last night of vacation count? The sex couldn’t possibly continue to be so amazing. Sleeping with him again was the only way to prove to herself that the fire between them had merely been a fluke.
She downed the last of her coffee. “You will be at the keynote banquet tonight, right?”
His throat twitched with a swallow and something unreadable settled in his expression for a moment. Then he gave her a warm smile. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
For some reason the notion that he’d be there took away a measure of her fear. “Good. I have an appointment at the salon in an hour, so I’d better get dressed.”
Guy shoved the rest of his muffin in his mouth and washed it down with coffee. “I have a few things on my agenda too.” He got up from the table when she did and pulled her into a comforting hug. Lifting her chin, he captured her stare. “You’ll do fine, okay? I have lots of faith in you.”
“Really? Why?”
He brushed his lips over hers, reigniting the passion that had carried her through the most blissful night of her life. “Because you’re wonderful and I heard part of the speech as I was getting dressed. It’s good. You’re good.”
Bolstered by his confidence in her, she smiled. Maybe she’d do okay after all. As long as she saw his handsome face in the audience, she’d be fine.
* * * * *
After a relaxing couple of hours at the hotel spa, Laura returned to her villa to shower and get ready for her speech. She checked her watch. Two and a half hours until the golf cart arrived to take her to the banquet hall, which gave her plenty of time to take a nap since she hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before.
Although she was tempted to stretch out by the pool, she didn’t want to risk a sunburn, not tonight. She set the alarm clock then climbed into her bed, and Guy’s scent invaded her senses.
“Don’t get too used to it,” she said in her empty bedroom. She’d have to say goodbye to him in the morning. Shutting her eyes, she pictured his handsome face and chiseled body. Her insides ached for his touch.
The buzz of the alarm clock roused her out of a deliciously sinful dream. She giggled as she thought about all the naughty things she’d dreamed Guy did to her, things she might ask him to try tonight.
She opened her eyes but something was keeping them closed. Reaching for the clock, she managed to shut off the alarm.
What the hell?
She attempted to blink but her lids had nowhere to go. Gingerly she touched her eyes and gasped. The skin was puffy and tender.
No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening. Not now.
Grabbing her glasses from the night table, she sat up. She must still be dreaming, a nightmare. But when she felt her way to the bathroom and tried to see her reflection in the mirror she knew she was having a waking nightmare.
She peeled her eyes open and came face-to-face with a cartoon caricature of herself in all shades of red. Now what?
Stumbling her way back to the bedroom, she called the hotel spa and asked to speak to Maya, the woman who did her facial.
“I don’t know what could have happened,” Maya said after Laura explained how her face looked.
Laura held back tears with great effort, knowing more swelling was the last thing she needed. “What did you use on me?”
“Our products are all a hundred percent organic with the finest ingredients. This has never happened before. Let’s see. Our products contain only pure olive oil, yogurt, lemon juice and royal jelly.”
“What’s royal jelly?”
“It’s something bees make.”
“Oh God.” She sank onto the bed. “I’m allergic to bee stings. Obviously I shouldn’t go near any bee products.”
“I’m so sorry, ma’am.”
She got off the phone then frantically searched for her allergy medicine. If she could get the swelling down and make herself presentable before the banquet it would be a miracle.
* * * * *
Guy set his coffee cup on an end table in the lobby then checked his watch. Passengers from the afternoon flight would be arriving any minute. He stood up, stretched, then headed to a display of travel brochures close to the reception desk and pretended to read one.
The group trickled inside and lined up to register. No one resembled Harry in the least.
“Charlie chartered a boat for the six of us for tomorrow,” a middle-aged woman with a Brooklyn accent said to her friend. “He says they can take us to some of the other islands in the area if we want.”
Guy picked up a brochure for a local charter service. The inside was a map of four nearby islands connected by dotted lines. What if Harry had come to Pleasure Cove Island by sea instead of by air? He could have flown to one of the neighboring islands then chartered a boat.
He gritted his teeth as he rushed to the desk and cut in front of a woman in line. “I’m sorry, it’s an emergency,” he told her. He waved over one of the clerks, a man in his thirties who looked as if he’d just smelled something really nasty.
“Excuse me,” Guy said. “Can you tell me if any guests arrived or will be arriving by boat today? The clerk puckered his mouth and shook his head. “We don’t give out that information.”
“Look, I think my girlfriend is planning to surprise me but I have a ring for her. I want to be there to propose if she comes.”
The man’s expression softened but not much. He glanced at the clock on the wall. “There’s a chartered yacht due in about ten minutes.”
His heart pounded. “How do I get to the marina from here?”
“It’s on the harbor side of the island. Turn right when you exit the lobby to the north path. Follow the signs to the marina.”
“Thank you.” He brushed past the woman whose turn he’d taken and gave her an apologetic wave. “Thanks for your patience.” Then he raced out the door and headed to the marina.
It was farther than he’d anticipated and by time he got there, he found one small yacht moored among the sailboats.
The vessel’s captain stood on the deck, polishing the fancy wooden railing.
Guy caught his breath then fished the booking photo of Harry out of his wallet. “How you doing?”
The gray-haired man shrugged but said nothing.
Guy came closer but didn’t board the boat. “Can you tell me if you transported this man?”
The captain wouldn’t look at the picture.
Guy peeled a fifty from his
wallet. “Maybe this’ll help.” He offered the man the folded bill.
Scratching his head, the captain came toward him, took the money, then studied the photo for a moment. “Can’t really say. Both men were wearing hats and sunglasses.”
Guy put away the picture. “So there were two men? Anyone else?”
“Sure. A woman, blonde and quite a looker.” He winked at Guy.
“Did you happen to get their names?”
The captain crossed the deck to retrieve a clipboard. “Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Smith and John White.”
Guy clenched his jaw. It had to be Harry and his companions. “Did they say where they were headed?”
The man chortled. “Well there ain’t but a few places they could have gone. Pleasure Cove Island ain’t New York City, you know.”
Guy thanked him then started across the island to the villas. He called Rick on the way to let him know what he’d learned. Then he checked his watch.
Damn it.
Laura would be giving her speech in less than twenty minutes. He wanted to be there for her but he had no choice. Finding Harry took precedence, but there’d be hell to pay with his woman.
* * * * *
Laura gulped down her wine and prayed for a tiny natural disaster—small enough that no one actually got hurt but big enough to call for evacuating the banquet hall before she gave her speech. With trembling hands she refilled her glass from the carafe in the middle of the table, hoping the liquid courage would hurry up and do its thing.
Fat chance.
She fanned herself with her index cards as she waited for the master of ceremonies to introduce her. The allergy medicine she’d taken an hour and a half ago had brought the swelling down a little, but not enough. In her sunglasses her puffy red eyes weren’t so obvious but in the dimly lit room it was difficult to see.
As if I didn’t have enough strikes against me before.
She glanced around the room again, searching for Guy, but after the second row of tables, the rest of the hall was a blur. She set the cards down and threaded her fingers together on the table to keep them from shaking. A wave of sleepiness caught her and she yawned.
No more wine for me or I might nod off in the middle of my speech.
“I’m honored to introduce Dear Annie,” the speaker said.
The room erupted in applause. Sucking in a breath, Laura stood and accidentally knocked over her glass of merlot.
The man seated beside her jumped up and started mopping up the crimson liquid as it soaked the white tablecloth and Laura’s index cards. She grabbed the cards and attempted to blot the wine from them but it was no use. Nearly half the stack was unreadable.
Panic stormed through her. She held back tears as she patted her helper’s hand. “Thank you.” Her voice was a pathetic squeak. She headed to the podium like a condemned woman on her way to the gallows.
Dead woman walking.
She laid out her cards on the lectern, praying for a miracle. The MC left the stage and took a seat at a nearby table, leaving Laura all alone in front of hundreds of people. She tried to picture the crowd wearing nothing but their underwear, but Guy and her sister’s advice fell flat.
Her throat felt as if it was stuffed with cotton. She cleared it and the speakers let out ear-piercing feedback. “Sorry,” she said. Her heart kaboomed like a bass drum. She scanned the room one more time for Guy, praying with all her might that she’d find him. Just a glimpse of him would make her feel better, give a much-needed shot of confidence, but either he wasn’t there or he was too far back for her to see.
“Thank you for giving me this great honor,” she began, thankful she’d at least memorized the beginning since the notecards were DOA. “The basic principle of hedonism is that all actions can be measured on the basis of how much pleasure and how little pain they produce. The hedonist strives to maximize the ratio.”
She shuffled through the cards searching for a readable one. Oh, no. Somehow she’d managed to get them all out of order. Her eyelids drooped and she thought she might fall asleep right there.
She gripped the edges of the podium and read one of the few readable cards. “We’re all hedonists at heart, it’s just a matter of degree. If the pursuit of our pleasure doesn’t hurt us or others, where is the harm? Living life to the fullest is a universal quest.”
Her heart thundered as she looked for the next notecard, but a giant yawn overtook her and her eyes filled with sleepy tears. Chatters in the audience only made her more embarrassed. “I seem to have damaged my notes beyond recognition.”
She managed a smile at the audience, but seeing the giant crowd set her more on edge. Her hands trembled and she dropped the cards on the floor in front of the podium. Real tears threatened but she clenched her teeth to hold them back as she crouched to scoop them up.
All her energy seeped from her body. With great effort, she hauled herself up. The buzz of voices grew to a dull roar.
The MC joined her at the lectern and tried to corral the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, please. Let’s give our guest our full attention.”
Please don’t.
She didn’t want them staring at her, laughing at her awkwardness. She scanned the room again searching for Guy, praying he’d emerge from the sea of people to rescue her from her nightmare. But it became apparent she’d have to rescue herself by getting the hell out of there.
“I’m so sorry,” she told the MC. Then she stumbled toward the steps in her high heels and proceeded to trip over her own feet.
“Oh my.” The MC helped her stand.
The moment she was back on her feet, she kicked off her shoes and raced to the nearest exit.
“I guess Dear Annie had a bit too much to drink,” she heard the speaker say as Laura cleared the door.
She ran all the way to the villa, tears streaming down her face. Not only had she completely humiliated herself, but she’d destroyed Suzanne’s career as well. The WHS would no doubt make her pay for her stay on the island since she’d totally crapped out as their keynote speaker. She’d be in debt for years for what she’d owe them.
No wonder Guy hadn’t showed up. Why would he want anything to do with such a pathetic loser? She’d never be more than the boring bookworm she always knew she was.
Chapter Six
Guy’s phone buzzed as he stood on the hill behind what he suspected was Harry’s villa. He checked the display before answering. “Hey, Rick. What’s up?”
His partner’s frustrated sigh filtered through the phone line. “Absolutely nothing. I feel like we’re on a freaking goose chase.”
“Not necessarily. A threesome arrived here by boat an hour ago but I haven’t been able to get a good look inside the house to see if it’s Harry and his buddies. I got a maybe from the boat captain that transported them and I plan to stay close. But if I don’t see any movement soon, I’ll head over to the place next door for the night then try something different in the morning to smoke him out.” He lifted his binoculars and scanned the perimeter of the house for the tenth time in as many minutes.
“Good plan. You think I should head back over there?”
“Chances are good that he’s here. Maybe hang tight for today then if nothing turns up by morning, plan to come back.”
“Sounds like a plan. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”
After he hung up, he started up the hill toward the hotel. Maybe he could sneak into the back of the banquet hall and catch the end of Laura’s presentation. He’d have to come up with a good excuse why he was late. He just hoped everything was going okay for her. With any luck, she hadn’t noticed his absence.
By the time he arrived at the hall, the crowd was in the midst of dinner. He zigzagged through the room, searching for Laura, but she was nowhere to be found. After two more passes, he staked out the hallway by the ladies’ room, but ten minutes later she hadn’t emerged. Maybe she’d left immediately after her speech, in which case she had to know he wasn’t present for it.
/> His gut clenched as he pushed through the double doors then started back down the path. The sooner he caught Harry, the sooner he could come clean with Laura and tell her what he really did and why he was on the island. After the mind-blowing sex they’d had, he was sure he didn’t want to say goodbye to her after his mission was over.
Halfway down the trail, the ground started shaking. He grabbed onto a tree and offered up a prayer that it would be merely another minor temblor. Glancing back at the hotel, he held his breath as he watched the whole building shake. The breeze carried terrified screams through the air.
Laura. What if a wall caved in on her or a window broke and sent glass shards at her? He had to get to her. What if she was hurt because he wasn’t there, wasn’t able to protect her like…
He flashed back more than twenty-five years, to the night his mother was killed. He flinched at the long-ago memory of a gunshot, the acrid smell of smoke as she let go of his tiny hand and fell to the ground.
Damn it. He wished he was with Laura so he could hold her and keep her safe. He let loose of the tree and negotiated the quaking ground toward her villa. Rocks tumbled down the path ahead of him. When he’d almost reached the end, he did a face-plant, barely missing a large boulder.
He hardly felt the blow. Scrambling to his feet, he brushed himself off then broke into a run. Finally the shaking stopped. Dizzy with worry, he banged on Laura’s door. “Laura, are you okay?”
Moments that felt like hours passed as he waited for her to let him in. When she did, he gasped. Her bruised, tear-stained face cut straight through him, ripping his gut apart.
Guy grabbed her, pulled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head, her forehead and cheeks as if she were the most precious thing in the world. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.”
Everything came rushing back to her—the humiliation, the panic, the complete and utter feeling of failure. Even the earthquake a few minutes ago hadn’t affected her as profoundly as her debacle of a speech.
She had every intention of giving him both barrels for not showing up after he’d promised, but when she breathed in his comforting scent, she burst into tears all over again. Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, she blubbered and sobbed, not even caring what a complete fool she appeared. Wasn’t as if she could top her performance at the keynote dinner.
Deceptively Yours (Wanton Weston Women, Book Two) Page 9
