Ignoring the twin siren calls from his cock and her bedroom eyes, Jason grabbed one of the Turkish bread things from the basket and bit into it. At least the resort had a decent chef. Some tours he'd been on, they couldn't even get a decent Chiko roll backstage. He remembered at one concert, there'd been waiters serving champagne and caviar. To rock stars. Who the fuck actually liked champagne and caviar? He'd always been a beer and bourbon man. Wine had been something he only drank if he was desperate and they couldn't afford anything else, and that wasn't from a glass. Fuck, no. If you didn't guzzle it straight from the goon bag, you weren't fucking doing it right. He bet Flavia had never done that. Drunk on goon, she'd never have stayed a virgin. Even he hadn't, gawky kid that he'd been. He couldn't even remember the name of the first girl he'd slept with. He'd never had the guts to ask a girl for sex until that night, slosh-full of cheap wine, when she'd asked him if he knew what a reverse cowgirl was, and if he didn't, whether he'd like her to show him.
Fuck. That'd been a long time ago. Maybe he should try introducing Flavia to it later. She was from a farm, wasn't she? Cowgirl might be just her style. He had plenty of time to find that out.
He finished his half of lunch quickly, then excused himself and left while Flavia's mouth was too full to speak. Now he'd seen which items she'd chosen to eat, he could report back to the chef with some ideas for dinner. He wasn't stupid enough to order food for a girl when he didn't know what they liked – he knew that was the fastest way to fuck up a first date. Any bloke who did that was just asking to get his arse kicked by his date's deceptively delicate high heels. At least, that's what his sister said, and Jo's advice on women had served him well until now. For a second, he wished he could call Jo now, to make sure she approved of his plans for Flavia, but even if the phones had been working, Jo was with Mum and Dad this weekend, and he didn't fancy them finding out what he was up to. The auction aspect probably wouldn't go down too well with any of them, either.
Nah, he should just focus on Flavia and giving her a weekend so awesome she'd never want to leave. He had to make up for messing up her first night in paradise. Maybe he should make a few changes to the menu tonight, to make everything that bit more memorable. In fact…
He marched to the kitchen, his mind full of ideas on how to make Flavia's evening perfect. Even before her clothes came off. He could do romance. He'd been reading about it for weeks. Rock stars in books had drug and alcohol issues, came from fucked-up families or were complete arseholes, yet they managed romance. How hard could it be?
Thirty-One
"And he wanted me to match wine with every course. Do I look like a wine waiter? All served on a table that has to be set up exactly to his specifications. As if that wasn't enough, then he came back with another set of demands, including precise times for the courses. That wasn't the worst of it. Instead of the dessert I've already prepared, he wants bombe Alaska. One of the most difficult desserts to make in a tropical climate, between keeping things frozen and keeping the meringue just the right consistency, but it has to be served at precisely 7.30 pm on that jetty – the same time as dinner is served in the staff dining room. So he expects me to leave the kitchen and my own dinner, to cart over his dessert and set fire to it while he's sitting on a structure made entirely of wood. At low tide. You know what else he asked for? I should say demanded. He…"
Xan nodded drowsily as Patel continued to rant, making a mental note never to give the man sole control of the kitchen again. And she'd thought Jay Felix was a prima donna. Patel truly took the cake – or he would, if he shut up long enough to make it first.
Speaking of shutting up, it looked like he was finally winding down.
"Do you have the ingredients, and can you prepare everything in time for dinner?" Xan interjected.
Patel hesitated. Probably loath to stop his ranting to answer questions, Xan thought.
"Perhaps," he ventured. "But – "
Xan held up her hand. "I'll see if I can get Jackie to serve. You just take care of the cooking. If anything can't be done because you don't have the time or ingredients, or it's just not safe, tell Jay and offer him a suitable alternative."
Patel opened his mutinous mouth to argue.
Xan cut him off. "I realise he's making extra work for you, but he's the owner. He gets treated the same way as any other celebrity staying in the Pearl Villas." She experienced a twinge of guilt as she said it, but she ignored it and continued, "He's trying to impress a travel agent. I assume you've heard that the resort is doing a big PR push? With new television ads, so we've closed the resort for a week to let a camera crew come and film the island. Think of this dinner as another PR exercise. Imagine she's the food editor for The West. If we show her the resort at its best, she'll go back to her office and rave about us. But if we mess it up, she might not mention us at all, or, if she does, it'll only be to say what a horrible experience she had here. Look, I know Jay Felix isn't the easiest man to get along with, but one thing he's amazing at is building an image that millions drool over. He lives and breathes public relations because media attention is what made him a star. If he says to build a bomb…then you pull out all the stops and build him a bomb."
"Bombe Alaska, not a bomb," Patel grumbled, but his expression had softened. Perhaps it was more accurate to say it didn't look like he was likely to explode any more, unless Jay sparked his short fuse again.
Xan wouldn't put it past him, but after seeing the look on that girl's face this morning when she saw Jay, especially after yesterday's fiasco, she decided to give the man a break. He had a way with women – one which didn't extend to her, but then he wasn't her type, so that didn't matter – that turned them into adoring fangirls. If he truly wanted to make up for messing up Flavia's first time, then perhaps she should give him the chance.
"Right," she replied absently. "So you do your best to put together that romantic dinner, and I'll go back to…whatever I was doing." She waited for Patel to disappear from view before she headed for the library.
It was supposed to be her day off, damn it, and she intended to spend at least some of it relaxing. Xan scanned the shelves, but the library was surprisingly light on murder mysteries. Not that she minded. Not really. Give her a good romance any day and she was happy. Speaking of romances…once again, she searched for the book she'd been reading in the pub a few weeks back, but it was nowhere to be found. Damn it, she really wanted to know how it ended. She still couldn't work out how a virginity auction could end in happily ever after for the couple…though Jay and Flavia looked like they were well on their way to something like that this morning.
Xan shook her head. Just the thought of the financial transaction for flesh left a bad taste in her mouth. Was it because she was English? Old-fashioned? Religious she wasn't, seeing as she'd grown up knowing all the stories of the Greco-Roman pantheon, which had taught her that deities did the stupidest things, divine or not.
"Ms Lane?"
Xan whirled and found herself face to face with Simon. "Yes?"
"We took advantage of the weather and captured as much of the island as we could while the sun shone. We think it's pretty much a wrap. Your IT guys have been very helpful. Once our memory cards were full, we just handed them over and they took care of downloads and backup so we could keep filming." Simon cleared his throat. "The only thing left to do is some nightscapes. Tim said something about tonight's moonrise?"
Xan nodded. "The best view of moonrise is from the eastern beaches at low tide. That's around eight tonight." Once a dive master, always a dive master – Xan knew the tides and moon phases wherever she worked. The best times for snorkelling, the best times for diving and even the best times for fishing. With the fourteen-metre tides up here, almost every schedule on the island revolved around tides. Especially the one for the supply boat. Which reminded her – she needed to radio the pearl farm again, to see when they'd be able to get a boat out, or better yet, whether they'd managed to contact a repairman with the parts
to fix the helicopter and the satellite dish.
She wouldn't hold her breath. The Easter long weekend was hardly the time for miracles to happen.
Thirty-Two
"How would you like a walk on the beach?"
Flavia raised her eyes from her book. "I thought we were supposed to stay inside."
Jay shrugged. "What the point of living in paradise if you don't go outside to enjoy it? C'mon. I'll fend off the wildlife."
What sort of wildlife did this island have that required fending off? Flavia hadn't seen anything larger than a lorikeet and she was certainly a match for one of those.
Jay flashed a smile that would make any girl swoon. "Please?"
Forgetting her book, Flavia rose, ready to…what had he asked her to do again? She took his outstretched hand and followed him through the front door and down the steps to the sand. A jetty stuck out into the sea, or it would have if the sea hadn't retreated. Instead, it stood high above a smooth stretch of sand. The sun had sunk below the palm trees, but she could still feel its warmth in the boards that had gorged on the sun's rays all day.
Jay let go of her hand and swung onto a ladder fixed to the side of the jetty. "Down here." He climbed out of sight.
Flavia felt a flutter of nerves in her tummy, then realised that it was probably just hunger. Lunch had been a long time ago and dinner…well, she'd have to ask Jay about that. She wasn't the best cook most days, and Jay had mentioned a chef. She didn't want to be caught in Jay's kitchen when the professional arrived. He'd either shout at her for her incompetence or laugh himself sick.
"Come on! Or do you want me to throw you over my shoulder and carry you down here?" Jay called from below.
He must think her some sort of stupid city girl who'd never climbed a ladder in her life. Just because she'd never had sex before him, didn't make her completely inexperienced. The rungs vibrated like lightly struck bells under her hands and feet, sounding her arrival. Her feet sank deep into damp sand at the bottom, surprisingly cool after the warm rungs.
"Guess not, then. This way." Jay beckoned and she followed, both leaving footprints that pooled with water on the pristine sand to mark their path.
Flavia rounded a clump of palm trees and stumbled to a halt. Someone had set out a line of tiny tea light candles, flickering in the light evening breeze in the shape of a – she walked closer to get a better look – heart, ringing a white-skirted table set for two. A romantic dinner on the beach? With Jay? Flavia couldn't take her eyes off the table. Why would he…
"I thought you might like a little romance with your dinner. I wanted to arrange something special for you when you first arrived but yesterday…wasn't a normal day by anyone's standards, even mine. I got a bit side-tracked." A sheepish grin surfaced that reminded Flavia of no sheep she'd ever seen. If she had, she'd never wonder where all the sheep jokes came from. Any sheep that grinned like that would be irresistible.
Sheep. She was thinking about sheep when she had Jay Felix in front of her.
"This is how you romance girls?" Her voice sounded hoarse.
Jay laughed. "Not usually. Ask the chef, if you don't believe me. I think he wanted to tell me to shove my candles up my arse."
Flavia forced a smile. "Kinky." Her heart froze. Was that what Jay had in mind? Getting her to lower her guard so he could persuade her to do the sort of kinky stuff that he did with other girls? No. Just…no.
"Not my style. And the chef isn't my type, either." Jay winked. "You, though…are exactly my type."
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Sweet. Pretty. Not a pushover – not afraid to take charge, if that first time on the beach was any indication. And not too shy to enjoy yourself." Jay ran his hands through his hair. "Fuck, you were hot in that helicopter. I can't stop thinking about it. About how I'd like to do it all over again, and show you more pleasure than you've ever dreamed of."
She felt like her eyes were so wide, they'd pop out of their sockets. Jay Felix wanted to spend more time with her? He'd been thinking about her as much as she'd dreamed about him?
Jay clapped his hands, startling her out of her reverie. "But sex can wait. Now, I'd like to take you to dinner."
For the second time that evening, she took his hand and allowed him to lead her – this time, to her seat.
Jay took his place across from her. Glass clunked against metal as he withdrew a dripping bottle from an ice bucket, half-hidden in the tablecloth's folds. "Wine?" he offered, popping the cork free.
No wine expert, Flavia didn't even glance at the label. It had bubbles and alcohol, both of which were probably a bad idea in her unsettled stomach, but if it calmed her nerves at all, it would be worth it.
Jay filled her flute, then his own, and raised his in a toast. "To following your heart."
That was a strange thing to drink to. Flavia clinked her glass against his before she drank deeply. The cold, dry fizz went straight to her head, freezing her brain into tipsiness. Probably a good thing. She wouldn't worry so much now – maybe she'd even be able to enjoy this dinner. It's not like she'd ever share a meal with a rock star again after this weekend.
A woman with a laden tray appeared, laying plates on the table.
"Thanks, Jackie," Jay said, and Jackie left.
Flavia peered at her tiny, manicured salad, outlined in yet another heart made from two king prawns. She knew girls who'd consider such a salad a complete meal, but growing up on a sheep farm had given her different ideas. Surely this snack wouldn't be enough to satisfy Jay?
"I thought you liked prawns. You ate all the ones at lunch." Jay snapped the head off one of his and tossed it in a bowl presumably placed to catch the crustacean carcass.
So he was teasing her with a tiny meal because she ate all the prawns? Fine. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of a response. Instead, she peeled her prawns, sliced them into smaller pieces that she sprinkled liberally over the lettuce, and started eating her salad.
Five forkfuls and her plate was empty. Flavia down set her fork and gulped her wine until the glass was empty.
"More?" a female voice asked.
Flavia stared at Jackie, then recovered and nodded. Jackie lifted the bottle from the ice and refilled both of their glasses. The efficient woman replaced their empty plates with new ones, bracketing the steaming dishes with clean cutlery.
A small morsel of fish sat in a pool of sauce, with what looked like strands of seaweed on top. Flavia had seen bigger pieces of sushi.
Jay scooped the whole thing off his plate and shovelled it into his mouth. Trying not to laugh at his bulging cheeks, she sliced hers in half and managed to finish her fish in two decorous bites. It was a lovely taste, but she could have eaten the whole fillet, not a spoonful of it.
"Hey, Jackie," Jay called. "How many courses after this one? I gave the chef a schedule. This is the last night. I don't want it messed up."
Flavia's heart sank. Somewhere in her head she knew she could never keep Jay, but to hear him state so baldly that he didn't want to see her after tonight…hurt. Like a slap in the face.
She drank some more wine, hoping to dissolve the lump that had risen in her throat, but that only seemed to make it worse. Tears threatened and she blinked furiously to banish them. Jay didn't deserve to see her cry if he was only going to dismiss her in the morning. In fact, he didn't deserve anything else from her, at all. It's not like the contract allowed him anything after the first time. She'd finish her dinner, grab her romance book, then shut herself in her room and read until she fell asleep. Alone. Jay Felix could go fuck himself for all she cared: he couldn't have her again.
Jackie switched the plates again. Flavia squinted at this new offering, wondering if the meat at the bottom of the carefully constructed edifice was beef or pork. It didn't matter much, anyway, she decided, using her knife and fork to cut a sliver to taste.
It was neither. She tasted fresh lamb, as fresh as she got at home at the right time of year. How had Jay or the chef
gotten their hands on a lamb that couldn't have been slaughtered more than a day or two ago? Was there a paddock hidden among the palm trees that she'd missed?
Jay hadn't missed her expression. "Good, isn't it? We get all our meat fresh from the local sheep and cattle stations. Most of the Kimberley beef gets exported, but the resort's always had arrangements with the local people."
What did the animals eat up here? Back home, there were paddocks of grass and clover come winter and spring, and hay to do them through the summer and autumn until the rains came. Flavia hadn't seen any grass except for the occasional lawn in town. Definitely not when she'd flown up in the helicopter. Nothing but scrubby bushes and stunted trees. Unless they ate the scrub…
Damn it. He had her thinking about sheep again. Flavia focussed on her meal instead. This portion was bigger, and she started to feel full. Good thing the fish dishes hadn't been any bigger, or she wouldn't be able to fit this one in.
"More wine?"
Flavia found she'd emptied her glass again, so she agreed to allow Jackie pour her another before the woman took away her empty plate. This time, she didn't immediately replace it with another course, and Flavia was grateful for the reprieve. She wasn't sure she could eat any more tonight.
"So what did you think?" Jay asked, sipping his wine.
Flavia raised her eyes to the sky, wanting a moment to get the words right in her head before she lost all sense of reason in Jay's smouldering eyes. She was surprised to see stars already – night descended quickly out here. It seemed like only moments ago she'd been surrounded by a twilight edged with rust along the horizon, but now she only saw darkness pricked with light.
"It's all…wonderful," she said, and was rewarded with Jay's heart-stopping smile. His eyes glowed in the candlelight, like twin flames themselves. Lighting a fire inside her that she wasn't sure she could extinguish.
"Good," Jay replied. "Because the night isn't over yet." Now his eyes held promises.
The Rock Star's Virginity (Romance Island Resort #3) Page 13
