The Trouble with Mojitos: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance

by Romy Sommer

Would she ever? She looked toward the window where raindrops had begun to spatter against the glass. Rik would get very wet if she kept him waiting much longer.

  “Can I get back to you?”

  “Sure. Just let my coordinator know and she’ll make your new travel arrangements. Have a safe flight.”

  Kenzie grabbed her rucksack and headed for the door.

  She left her bags in the rental and ran all the way to Pier Four. Great big raindrops smacked down, far more dramatic than the fine, misting European rain she was used to.

  By the time she reached the Pier, chest burning and her hair plastered to her face, the rain mingled with her hot, salty tears.

  Rik waited at the end of the pier, his back to her as he leaned on the steel railing, looking out over the harbour, oblivious to the rain. She stopped a few paces away from him and he turned.

  She managed a smile. “Mission accomplished!”

  He grinned. “So you’ll stay?”

  “Neil has offered me a chance to scout the European leg of the shoot too.”

  She barely caught the look of incredulity in his eyes before the mask slipped into place.

  “I’m not looking for a relationship, Rik.” Not with you. “You knew that.”

  “Neither am I. I just don’t want the fun to end yet.”

  Typical bloody Golden Boy. Making this all about what he wanted – a quick fling, a little fun. What about what she needed?

  She shook her head. “If I stay, this won’t be a one-night stand any more, and neither of us is ready for anything more.” She swallowed. “Are we?”

  “Don’t go.” He made it sound like a command and her back bristled. She wasn’t his plaything, to keep for as long as it amused him. And he hadn’t answered her question. Which was an answer in itself.

  Pain gnawed at her chest. “It’s like the forest, another rainy season and you won’t even remember I was here.”

  Whereas she would never forget.

  Another moment with him and she wouldn’t have the strength to walk away.

  “Goodbye, Rik.”

  She managed to put one foot in front of another and keep going without looking back, though her feet dragged like lead. By the time she reached the rental car her eyes were aching and swollen from the tears streaming down her face.

  She sat behind the wheel for a long moment before she pulled the frangipani blossom from her hair. It lay limp and wilted in her palm. Like their fling, its time was over.

  @KenzieCole101: @ProducerNeil I’d like to take you up on that offer. I’m thinking Poland for baroque palaces.

  Chapter Twelve

  Rik swam through the churning grey water. The shore seemed no closer than it had ten minutes ago, though his arms ached with the effort. Every morning since he’d arrived in Los Pajaros he’d pushed himself this way, to the very edge of collapse.

  Every morning he felt that temptation to give in, to let the water drag him away. But he kept on fighting. It was a triumph of sorts, knowing that for another day he’d beaten not only the sea but his own demons.

  So why hadn’t he done the same with Kenzie? Why hadn’t he chased after her and fought for her?

  He was used to getting what he wanted. Even here on the islands. He wanted anonymity, he got it. He wanted a favour, he called the mayor. He wanted sex, he found someone.

  So now that he wanted more than sex, when he wanted to give these new feelings he was experiencing a shot, why hadn’t he stopped Kenzie from getting on that plane?

  Because of the fear in her eyes. She’d been scared and he hadn’t known how to deal with it. He had no idea what she was scared of, or how to fix it.

  His arms pulled against the tide, tiring now. He fought harder, pouring all his frustration into beating the unbeatable.

  What could he do to make Kenzie want him? He was a gentleman. He wouldn’t hurt her. They could have so much fun together. And the sex …

  He could still feel her on his skin, the slide of her hair, the softness of her body pressed against him.

  His feet found purchase on the gravelly floor and he rose, wading out of the sea.

  Perhaps the problem was that he didn’t really have a clue how to seduce a woman. Back when he’d been a prince, it had been so easy. He’d determined his target, made a few calls, had his intelligence people research her until he knew her weakness, and then he’d honed in. Most women were easy. They wanted money or fame or appreciation. Some just wanted sex.

  But with Kenzie, he had no idea what she wanted. He wasn’t even sure if she knew what she wanted. She’d been hurt before; she’d said as much. But even this career she chased after wasn’t her main driving force. If it were, she’d have taken it more seriously. She’d have had a five year plan, at least.

  He frowned as he scrubbed himself dry with the towel.

  Though the storm had blown itself out through the night, the air was still chilly and damp. He looked up at the foreboding sky.

  He’d followed his instincts with Kenzie and so far his instincts hadn’t been wrong. This wasn’t the end.

  All he needed to know was what Kenzie wanted, and how he could make it happen.

  Since he no longer had a secret service at his fingertips to do the research for him, he’d have to do it himself.

  ***

  @KenzieCole101: I’m re-packing my bags tonight. Out with the suntan lotion and in with the winter coat.

  Rik pressed the door buzzer and leaned against the wall. The sound of a TV within the flat sounded loud through the plain white door. Rugby commentary? He hadn’t taken Kenzie for a rugby fan.

  The chain rattled behind the door and a latch slid open. The door opened a fraction before it was flung wide.

  Rik’s eyes opened wide at the bare-chested young man who’d opened the door. He looked like a GQ model; tall, with fair curly hair, bright blue eyes, and dimples that deepened as he gave Rik the once over. And had Rik mentioned? … He was shirtless.

  Scratch GQ model. He looked more like a male stripper.

  “Who the hell are you?” Rik demanded.

  “I’m Lee, and who the hell are you? Or more importantly, what can I do for you?”

  This was Lee? Kenzie’s best friend and flatmate was a man? Rik’s hands fisted. Best friends, or friends with benefits? He was tempted to turn around and leave.

  He took a deep breath and forced himself to smile. This time he wasn’t going to give up without a fight.

  “Is Kenzie home?” He only just managed to keep his voice on the polite side of a snarl.

  “Mac, it’s for you.” Lee called over his shoulder into the flat. With the grace of a dancer, he turned and headed towards the sofa in front of the TV, where he stretched out his long, lean limbs. Not only was he shirtless, but he was barefoot too. He was dressed in nothing but low-slung jeans that revealed way too much honed torso, in Rik’s opinion.

  “Who is it?” Kenzie’s voice drifted down the corridor from an inner room.

  “No idea. Didn’t introduce himself. But he’s hot.” Lee called back. Then to Rik: “Make yourself at home.”

  Rik settled into the one available armchair and spared a glance for the TV before looking back at Lee, who eyed him with cheerful amusement.

  “I’m Rik,” he said, more to pass the time than to make polite conversation.

  Lee’s eyes rounded and he sat upright, slinging his bare feet off the sofa. “You don’t look much like a pirate.”

  Rik didn’t have a chance to puzzle out that cryptic comment, since Kenzie chose that moment to make her entrance. He rose.

  Dressed in a wide-necked white tee over a lacy camisole top and a pair of denim cut-offs, her only concession to the chill of autumnal London was a pair of black tights.

  He swallowed. The tights emphasised the shapely length of her legs, and as for that slip of black lace dipping over the curves of her breasts…

  He lifted his gaze to her face.

  “You clean up nicely,” she observed, eyeing his c
lean-shaven face and the tailored suit. Her face was expressionless but her eyes looked like they’d been bruised.

  “And you look awful.”

  “Lack of sleep does that to her.” Lee said cheerfully. Two sets of glaring eyes turned to him and he held up his hands in a gesture of retreat.

  “I’ve had a stomach bug. I didn’t expect to see you here.” Or ever, her tone implied.

  He hadn’t exactly expected a warm welcome, but this was verging on hostile. “Can we talk?”

  “Sure.” She glanced at her flatmate. “Isn’t there somewhere else you could be right now?”

  Lee grinned, cheeks dimpling. “And miss all the fun? No way!” Kenzie frowned and he sighed. “Alright, then. I suppose I could watch the rest of the game down at the pub.”

  “Thanks.”

  Lee gave her a peck on the cheek as he passed her on his way to the door, whispering loud enough for his voice to carry to Rik, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

  Kenzie cuffed his arm. “That doesn’t leave much, does it?”

  The door closed behind Lee, and they were alone.

  She crossed to the sofa Lee had just vacated and sat with her legs curled beneath her. “This is an unexpected pleasure.”

  Rik resumed his seat on the armchair. “You never told me Lee was a man.”

  “Didn’t I? He’s no threat to your ego, you know. He bats for the other side.”

  His brow knotted.

  She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “You really have lived a sheltered life. Lee’s gay.”

  Ah.

  “Not to put too fine a point on it, but what are you doing here?”

  “I need a date for an event, and I was hoping you were free.”

  “What’s the event in aid of?”

  “You read the letter.”

  Her face froze. Slowly, she shook her head. “I thought you weren’t going.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Why? And why me? I’m not an A-list party kind of girl. I’m sure you won’t have any trouble finding someone who enjoys being a rich man’s arm candy.”

  “Marjorie couldn’t make it so I need a back up plan. You seem to be pretty good at those. Besides, it’s not an A-list party. It’s friends and family only.”

  He wasn’t above playing on that soft heart of hers. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “My mother’s going to be there. I need moral support. I need you.”

  “Where and when is this party?”

  “Tonight in Neustadt.”

  “Tonight?” She shook her head. “I can’t. I’m busy. I’m flying to Warsaw in the morning.”

  “I know. You’re scouting for a Baroque palace.”

  She uncrossed her arms. “How on earth do you know that?”

  “Little thing called Twitter. I’m learning how to use it. Don’t forget your camera, because you’re going to be inside a palace in Neustadt that’s never been seen before. If it doesn’t work for you, I’ll put you on a plane to Warsaw myself.”

  Her eyes opened wide as saucers, her excitement clear. “You’ll get me permission to shoot inside the palace in Neustadt?”

  “I know the owner.”

  The corner of her mouth lifted and her eyes sparkled. It was a much better look on her than the reticent, thin-lipped expression that had greeted him. “I have an appointment at Nieborow Palace tomorrow.”

  “Cancel it. Or better yet, I’ll call the Minister and cancel for you. We served together on a committee for European heritage a couple of years ago.”

  “That won’t be necessary.”

  She licked her lips, and he smiled. Though he knew it was the thought of photographing the holy grail of film locations, a real live royal palace, that was piquing her interest rather than seeing him again, he’d take what he could get.

  “You know I don’t even own a dress.”

  He grinned. “That cocktail dress you wore to dinner in Christianstad will be perfect.”

  ***

  Her bag was already packed. All she had to do was add in the dress, a pair of killer heels – the only ones she possessed – and a make-up bag. At the last minute she threw in the earrings she’d inherited from her grandmother.

  “Will we have time to get dressed before the party?” It was already growing dark in London and Westerwald was an hour ahead.

  “We can change on the plane,” Rik said, leaning against the doorframe and watching her. She wished she’d bothered to at least make the bed. Or hide the bin of used tissues she’d filled crying herself to sleep last night.

  Tonight there’d be no need for the tissues. Tonight she’d be back in his arms.

  She snapped her suitcase shut and zipped it closed. “I’ll need to change into something more appropriate to travel in, then we can go.”

  His gaze raked down her stockinged legs and he smiled. “You’re perfect as you are. But you’ll need a coat. It’s cold and wet outside.”

  She hadn’t noticed, since she’d spent practically the entire day in bed. But when was England anything but cold and wet? She’d scarcely been gone a day and a half and already she felt homesick for the Caribbean.

  Slipping on her boots, she grabbed her phone and charger, and left Rik to follow with her suitcase. She stuck a scribbled post-it note on the television for Lee, collected her coat and camera bag, and let them out of the flat.

  A car waited at the kerb, revving to life as they emerged from the building. No, not a car. A luxury sedan with tinted windows.

  Rik stowed her luggage in the boot and opened the door for her to slide inside. She settled back against the leather, feeling woefully under-dressed for the setting.

  “I bet you travel first class all the way,” she said, biting her lip.

  He grinned. “Forget first class. We fly private.”

  ***

  There were no check-in queues or crowded gates. They drove through a security checkpoint right onto the runway, pulling up beside a small plane that stood ready and waiting. A customs officer greeted Rik and checked their passports, while the uniformed chauffeur dealt with their luggage.

  “Enjoy your flight, sir,” the customs officer said. Rik nodded and, with his hand in the small of her back, propelled her on board.

  Kenzie had never been on a private plane before. It wasn’t as big as she’d imagined, just one cabin with extra-large leather seats, an oversized entertainment system and a bathroom in the rear, but this under-stated elegance certainly beat flying cattle class any day.

  “The trip’s too short to require a hostess,” Rik said once they were airborne, “but I can offer you champagne.”

  “Water will be fine, thanks.”

  She took the bottled water he offered and disappeared into the bathroom to get dressed. And to think she’d been worried about the acrobatics required to get into her cocktail dress inside an on-board loo. This bathroom was nearly as big as the one she shared with Lee.

  An old fear had taken up residence in her stomach, squeezing like a tight fist, and she felt the urge to throw up again. She should have said no to Rik. Right now she should be tucked into bed with a bowl of chicken soup and Lauren Weisberger’s new novel.

  Why had she agreed to come? Because she was a sucker for a man in need. And because the chance to present the director with the palace in Neustadt as a film location was too good to refuse.

  She splashed cold water on her face and examined her reflection in the mirror.

  Because she’d wanted, desperately, madly, to see Rik again. Even though she knew it was the wrong thing to do, barely forty eight hours after she’d said goodbye, she wanted to take it all back. She’d done the one thing she’d vowed never to do again and fallen for the bad boy with the brooding eyes.

  All he had to do was click his fingers and she came running. Just the way she’d done for her previous three boyfriends.

  Her fringe fell across her face, and her bruised eyes and freckles stood out agai
nst her abnormally pale skin. What the hell had she been thinking?

  This might be a party for friends and family, but she was never going to fit in. She remembered all too well the kind of people who socialised with royalty. Once upon a time they’d been her friends, until she’d really needed them and they’d abandoned her.

  She swallowed hard. She also remembered the terror of walking into a party alone, while everyone whispered behind their hands. The last time she’d faced that ordeal, she’d had to do it alone. She would do anything in her power to make that moment easier for Rik.

  Even if it meant sucking it up and facing the gauntlet of her worst fears.

  With shaking hands, she applied her make-up. Though it had been years since she’d dolled herself up for this kind of party, she still remembered how to make the best of her features. At least she looked less freaky.

  There was nothing she could do with her hair, though. Not without five hours, hot curlers and a stylist. So she brushed it smooth and left it hanging loose.

  She looked nothing like that stylish blonde he’d been photographed with back in the days before his dethronement, but at least she shouldn’t disappoint.

  With her earrings in and her chin up she almost felt ready. She stepped out of the bathroom.

  Her mouth turned dry.

  “Wow,” was all she managed to say.

  Rik had changed too, into an elegant evening suit complete with black tie. With his new haircut and clean-shaven face he looked like a stranger. Or like James Bond.

  “We’ll have missed dinner by the time we get there. Do you want something to eat before we land?”

  She shook her head. She couldn’t face food right now.

  “Then I suggest you buckle up. We’ll be landing soon.”

  She crossed to her seat, and buckled herself in. Rik sat in the seat beside her. He smelled good too, though for a moment she wished he still smelled of the ocean. At least then he’d seem more familiar.

  He still hadn’t touched her, aside from that hand on her back as they boarded the plane, and her body seemed to have gone into some kind of withdrawal, yearning for his touch with an almost physical pain.

  The plane landed smoothly, taxiing for what felt like forever before it finally came to a stop. She didn’t move, even after Rik had unclasped his seatbelt and risen. Even after the door opened. He waited for her, hand outstretched. “The luggage will follow,” he said.