by Lori Foster
“A piña colada. No, wait. Make that a scotch on the rocks.”
“Uh-oh.”
“I need it, Ruby.”
Ruby’s shoulders rose and fell in a nonchalant shrug. She dug money out of her wallet, then she weaved her way through the crowd. As Jenna watched her friend, she wrung her fingers together. Her anxiety was in stark contrast to Ruby’s bubbly mood, evidenced by Ruby’s flirtatious smiles as she moved toward the bar.
It was amazing how two years could change things. Jenna had been flirtatious and fun her first time here, not uptight and on edge. Of course, she’d been on a real vacation, her first one in ages—one that had become that much more exciting after she’d met and instantly fallen for Trey.
“You can deny it all you want, but that man’s your soul mate,” Ruby had told her on the plane.
Soul mate, her butt. Ruby was too romantic for her own good.
Trey was no more her soul mate than he was her husband in any real sense of the word. Marrying him at the end of her month-long vacation had been the dumbest thing she had ever done, and by the end of this trip, she would be well on her way to rectifying that mistake.
Chapter Two
“Ruby.” Trey greeted her in a cheery voice, as if her sudden appearance in his bar wasn’t a surprise. “Long time no see.”
She grinned as she rested her elbows on the counter. “So, you remember me.”
“Remember you? How could I forget you?” Trey popped the lid off a beer and passed it to a customer, then scooped up the coins the man had left for him.
“You’re looking good, Trey.”
“Hey, I try.” Trey’s gaze wandered over Ruby’s dark, round face. Her eyes held a hint of mischief. “And you’re looking … quite happy.”
“You expect a frown?”
“No, I guess not. I always figured you the type to smile when bringing bad news.”
“Bad news?” Ruby tsked, shaking her head. “Now why would you say that?”
“If you’ve got an envelope behind your back, you can toss it in the trash.”
Ruby lifted both hands. “No envelope. Only cash.”
“Good.” Not that Ruby’s answer meant she and Jenna had come here for a sun-filled vacation. Trey knew better. He had received the couriered package from her lawyer containing the proposed separation agreement. She didn’t want any of his assets and assumed he didn’t want any of hers. All he had to do was sign the document before a notary and send it back to her lawyer.
Simple.
But there was nothing simple about this situation. First and foremost, he loved his wife. Even though they hadn’t been in touch in two years, the last thing he wanted was a divorce. The separation papers had been a big wake-up call that he had to make a move or lose her forever. And the best way to win her back was to get her down here so that he could deal with her in person. So instead of signing the agreement she wanted him to, he had written a note on it: If you want out of this marriage, you’ll have to come here and tell me to my face.
“I tried to talk her out of it, by the way,” Ruby said. “I know she still loves you.”
“You think so?”
“Oh, she denies it, but I know she does. She talks this crap about how she has to move on with her life, but she’s never once said that she stopped loving you. And I swear, she’s been wound up and tense ever since she returned to Buffalo. Barely cracks a smile anymore.” Ruby scowled as she shook her head. “When she was here with you, she was happy. Carefree. A person doesn’t need a degree to figure out that she still wants you.”
“She wants a divorce.”
Ruby waved a hand dismissively. “It’s a cry for help. Even if she doesn’t know it. And as for you, I’m sure you just needed a nudge, right?”
The registered package containing the separation agreement had been a huge nudge. “True, dat.”
“I’m never wrong when I know two people should be together. And I knew right from the start that you and Jenna were meant to be. I can’t say I’m happy that you’ve sat on your ass for two years instead of trying to win her back.” Ruby paused as she gave him a pointed look. “But since you didn’t want to sign the separation papers, I have to assume you still want this marriage.”
“I do.”
She smiled. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”
“Good. Then you won’t mind helping me out.”
“That’s why I came on this trip with Jenna, although she thinks otherwise.”
“What is she planning?”
“Not to drug you and force you to sign the separation agreement.” Ruby smiled sweetly. “But she does want you to do it. Figures you’ll do it here and not make a fuss about it.”
Trey shook his head. “I need to get her alone.”
“I agree. You two need to talk. And … whatever else suits your fancy.”
Not to drug you and force you to sign the separation agreement. As Trey replayed Ruby’s words, an idea took shape in his mind. “Are you getting my wife a drink?”
Ruby nodded. “She wants scotch on the rocks.”
Trey shook his head. “Naw, I’ve got something else for her.” He reached for a bottle of gin, chuckling softly as he did. “Tell her it’s the special of the day.”
“Oh, wait. Trey, what are you up to?” Ruby fought to control her smirk. “Gin?” When Trey nodded, Ruby said, “You know her allergy to gin knocks her out like a felled tree.”
“That’s what I’m counting on.” Jenna was allergic to the juniper berries gin was made from. Trey knew the gin wouldn’t hurt her, but it would knock her out and buy him time to get her to his place. “Will you help me?”
“She’ll have my ass on a platter—”
“Not if you hightail it out of town.”
“Ooh, shit.”
“After you help me get her to my place.”
Ruby moaned. “You want me to head back to Buffalo? Do you know how miserable it is there right now?”
“I don’t care if you head to Orlando. As long as you’re not anywhere Jenna can find you.”
“And here I was, hoping you had some gorgeous friend to set me up with.” Ruby frowned. “Unfortunately, I’m only a good matchmaker when it comes to other people.”
“No offense, Ruby, but I’ll be too busy trying to mend things with my wife to set you up with anyone. Maybe next time.” Trey filled the blender with ice and fruit. “Will you help me?”
“You may as well plan my funeral now.”
Trey chuckled as the blender whirred. There was enough strawberry and lime to mask the taste of gin. But even if Jenna did detect a hint of gin, given the look of distress on her face, it would probably be after she’d chugged a good portion of the drink—at which point it would be too late.
Moments later, he poured the thick, alcoholic smoothie into a tall glass, garnishing it with a morsel of lime spiked with a miniature umbrella. Then he poured one for Ruby.
“They’re on me,” he said, passing Ruby the drinks.
Ruby sipped the drink through the straw. “Mmm. This is delicious. You might have to make me a few more of these before I leave Florida.”
“No offense, Ruby, but after tonight I hope I don’t see you again.”
“Hey!” She feigned a hurt tone.
“Is the rental car in your name?”
“Yeah.”
“Excellent.” No loose ends to tie up on that front. “Then once Jenna’s in my care, take off. It’s the only way we’ll have time to work things out for ourselves.”
Ruby’s expression finally grew serious. “I hope this works, Trey.”
“Yeah, I hope it does, too.”
* * *
Jenna was in a warm, vanilla-scented bubble bath, surrounded by vanilla-scented candles. Resting her head against the tub’s wall, she raised a leg, watching the thick bubbles stick to her skin. A satisfied breath oozed out of her. How long had it been since she’d taken a bath like this, luxuriated in such a simple delight?
N
ot in … forever.
Her eyes flew open. As the sweet fragrance of vanilla hit her full force, she bolted upright.
She wasn’t in a tub. She was in a bed.
Trey’s bed. She knew it even before she saw the telltale four posters and mosquito netting surrounding her.
Panic curled around her stomach like groping tentacles and squeezed hard. Darting her eyes around the candlelit room, her mind scrambled to make sense of the situation. The last thing she remembered, she had been at Castaways with Ruby. So how had she ended up here?
Breathing in slowly, she surveyed the room. The dim lighting came from a row of fat candles lining the windowsill. No doubt, they were also the source of the delicate vanilla scent.
This place looked like … like a scene of seduction.
The realization was jarring, but it made her body thrum with sexual awareness nonetheless. There was no escaping the erotic memories this room held for her. She and Trey had made love countless times in this very bed, something she had hardly been able to forget at home in Buffalo, much less right here where the magic of their union had happened.
“Oh, no,” she told herself sternly. “You will not do this.” She pushed aside the netting and scrambled off the bed. She headed straight for the candles on the windowsill and blew them out. Many of the times Jenna and Trey had made love, they’d done so to the ambience of romantic music and candlelight. The last thing Jenna wanted was a visual reminder of that now.
Enshrouded in darkness, she turned around. A sliver of light slid under the bedroom door. Surprisingly, the place was quiet. Surely if Ruby was here, her outgoing friend would be filling this place with laughter. So where was she? And how, if the woman was her friend, had she let Trey snatch her from Castaways?
Jenna’s bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floor as she crossed the room. She swung the bedroom door open, prepared to give Trey a piece of her mind—and drew up short.
There were more candles, these ones mixed with a sprinkling of rose petals. Both created a path leading from the bedroom to the sliding patio doors. And was she wrong, or did she detect the scent of her absolute favorite dish—chicken marsala? Surely after two years, Trey wouldn’t remember that detail about her. But maybe that was yet another surprise in what was turning out to be a very surprising evening.
Jenna wasn’t stupid. She knew what this was about. Trey was laying it on thick in an attempt to get her to forget about moving on with her life. Why, exactly, she had absolutely no clue. But she’d be damned if she was going to stay here and let him play out whatever he had planned.
Placing her hands akimbo, Jenna strode to the patio doors. Peering through the glass, she saw Trey trying to light yet another candle on the table. The breeze off the ocean blew it out, but he tried one more time. When the flame flickered and died once again, he dropped the matchbox onto the table.
And then he saw her.
Whirling around, a smile lifted his lips. Jenna swallowed, unprepared for the mix of emotions that swirled inside her. There was anger and nervousness, both of which made sense, but the overwhelming desire to reach out and touch him shocked her to her core.
Surely the reaction was carnal. A completely normal female reaction to one hunk of a man. How could Jenna not react to Trey’s perfect butt, clad in a pair of well-worn, faded jeans? Or to those arms? They looked even more solid and muscular than she remembered. Trey had set up his spare bedroom as a home gym, and given his perfectly sculpted body, he was putting it to good use.
Trey slid open the screen door and slipped into the house. “I was just about to check on you.”
Jenna stopped her pleasure gazing and looked up at him incredulously. “What am I doing here?”
“Oh.” He dragged a hand over the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t you know it, you passed out at the bar. Must have been jet lag. I figured I’d bring you—”
“Jet lag, my ass. I saw you and Ruby chatting for quite some time. Then she brought me a drink—not the one that I requested, but one that you made for me. You put gin in it, didn’t you? The only time I ever conk out is when I have gin.”
Trey’s sexy lips curled in a guilty grin. “Darling—”
“Don’t darling me. You did this on purpose!”
Trey slowly raised a hand. “All right. I confess. I did do it on purpose.”
Jenna glared at him. “How long was I out for?”
“Close to three hours.”
“Three hours!” Jenna sounded outraged, although the three-hour blackout was about average. Before she’d discovered her allergy to gin, the few other times in her life she’d had the liquor, she had lost anywhere from three to five hours of time.
“Well, thanks to you, I have a killer headache.” It was more like a dull throb. “Why would you do something this crazy?”
“Because I wanted to get you alone.”
Trey’s words gave her pause. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. “I came down here to divorce you, not to get cozy with you.”
“I know why you came,” Trey said simply.
The deep timbre of his voice unnerved her. Needing to look away from him, she gestured toward the candles. “And what are you trying to do? Set the house on fire?”
“It’s never caught fire the other times.”
The other times. An image of Trey grinding her while she braced the candlelit kitchen counter zapped into her mind. She and Trey had gotten hot and bothered more times than Jenna could count, and those memories were indelibly etched in her brain.
In her heart.
The feel of Trey’s finger on her face caught her off guard. Jenna looked up to see that his large, sexy body loomed over hers. When had he gotten this close to her? She drew in a shaky breath, inhaling the incredibly intoxicating scent she had committed to memory. The spicy aftershave he wore had always made her think of sex, and this time was no exception.
So did the scent of vanilla, which was why Jenna had never bought anything vanilla-flavored after leaving Trey. One whiff of the stuff and it was a throwback to the intimate times they had shared.
Intimate times followed by an emotional shutdown on Trey’s part. He got close, then pushed her away. He would be incredibly romantic, then push her away. And every time, Jenna had felt the tear in her heart growing larger.
Trey’s inability to open up to her emotionally was why their marriage had ultimately failed. They’d shared an instant and fierce attraction, one that had thrilled and fulfilled her beyond her wildest dreams. But his emotional aloofness had hurt her more than she could bear. With each day, it had become increasingly obvious that her marriage to Trey had been a horrible mistake.
But what had she really known about him when she’d said “I do” other than that they were fantastic in bed?
That thought returning her to sanity, she demanded, “Where the hell is Ruby?”
“Out on the town, I think.”
“The bitch,” Jenna muttered. Talk about a fair-weather friend. Ruby was supposed to be on her side, yet she had given her over to the enemy without a second thought. Jenna would have her head on a platter the moment she saw her.
But what was she going to do about right now? She was alone. With Trey. Two and two added up to four as surely as the two of them alone added up to undeniable chemistry.
Jenna turned and walked toward the glass coffee table. She should leave. Call a cab, track down Ruby, and get the papers—
“Jenna.”
Trey’s voice was as rich as dark chocolate, and just as tempting. And ooh, she was tempted. But what was he offering? For her to stay and enjoy one last night of wild sex with him, or stay and be his wife till death do them part?
Jenna mentally chastised herself for her last thought. Trey wasn’t interested in marriage. He had made that clear two years ago. Maybe his ego had been hurt when she’d sent him the separation papers, but he would get over that, just as he had gotten over the excitement of being in love with her.
That
bitter reality sobering her, Jenna faced him.
“I know,” Trey said before she could open her mouth.
“You’re thinking you want to leave.”
“No.” Jenna wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you do that. Don’t you presume to know what I’m thinking. Not after two years.”
“All right,” Trey conceded. “Then why don’t you have a seat outside? Dinner’s ready and warming in the oven.”
“You want me to have dinner with you?”
“I made your favorite.”
Jenna was speechless as Trey walked past her. She didn’t move as she heard utensils clinking in the kitchen. Didn’t move even as Trey strode past her again, heading onto the screened-in patio.
Finally, her brain kicked into action. She followed Trey onto the patio, saying, “You can hold me captive all you want, but this isn’t going to work.”
He made a show of straightening the silverware. “What’s not going to work?”
“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t come down here to have dinner with you.”
“You traveled fifteen hundred miles only to turn around and leave?”
“You know damn well why I came here.”
Trey turned his back to the table and faced her. “We need to talk, Jenna. And I’d much rather we do so over dinner and wine.”
“Like I’d trust another drink you gave me.”
“Touché. Well, I’ll have a glass, if you don’t mind.”
Jenna watched Trey reach for the bottle of chardonnay—also her favorite—and fill one of the wineglasses. A glass of wine right now would be wonderful. But if she had one, she’d be playing right into Trey’s hands.
She said, “I still want a divorce.”
“We’re going to talk about that, sweetheart. Right after we eat dinner.”
Sweetheart?
Trey pulled out a chair. “Please, sit.”
“Tell me why you’re doing this.”
“Because I’d like to think that after all we once meant to each other, we’re not enemies. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but right now I’d like to spend an amicable night with my wife.” He paused, then added, “Is that so wrong?”
