by Jill Jaynes
Stephanie stood with the ocean to her back, raised her glass and thought about her boss—smug, self-satisfied and in the middle of things back in Seattle while she was shuttled off to this Caribbean backwater. "When!"
Natalie and Herb whispered together. Then Herb called out, "Natalie thinks you might convince your parents you are having a good time if you smiled a little."
"Maybe have a little more of your drink, dear," said Natalie from behind the camera.
Sure, because that's what she was here for. To have a good time, right? Pulling out the straw, she put the glass to her lips and downed most of the contents in a few big swallows. She shuddered as icy coldness trailed down her throat to her stomach, immediately followed by the burn of the alcohol. That was actually pretty damn good. I'm having another one of those.
The drink still looked pretty enough for picture taking purposes, with the little pink umbrella propped up against the orange wedges on the edge of the glass. She held it up at chest level and smiled ferociously at the camera. Damn Brett and his "five things you have to do on a vacation" rules. She was so going to win this thing.
* * * *
Rick might look like he was working, but he'd really offered to cover the bar for a while tonight to keep an eye on Stephanie. If things went according to plan, he'd spend a little time tonight getting to know her, off-duty. He knew she was only here for a few days, and he wanted to make the most of this lucky second chance.
Her reception of him tonight had been a little warmer than earlier. At least she'd recognized him. If he wasn't mistaken, there'd been a little undercurrent of something like interest in her eyes. He'd definitely felt it when their fingers had touched as he handed her the drink. She'd seemed to cut things short after that, but he was fine just keeping a little oversight for now. He wasn't going anywhere.
From what he could tell, Brett's plan to get her to take a break and have a little fun for a change didn't seem to be getting much traction. She was dressed for a party, but every muscle in her body was still wound up tight, as, he suspected, was she.
He'd watched her approach the older couple at the end of the bar and hand them the same little disposable camera she had handed him earlier that day. He wondered what was up with that. Most people he knew were surgically attached to their smart phones.
Now she was heading back to the bar from the beach where she had posed for another picture. She sidestepped suddenly in the soft sand. Was that a wobble in her purposeful, take-no-prisoners stride? She appeared to collect herself, hitched up the hem of her long sarong, and plowed ahead.
Wobbly or not, Holy Christ, was she hot.
He'd almost been reduced to speechlessness when she'd approached the bar earlier. She'd been gorgeous this morning at the pool, but tonight... Tonight was a whole new level of luscious. Her full breasts were on stunning display in her lacy bathing suit. The red sarong she'd wrapped around her hips pulled aside with every step she took, exposing miles of bare leg. But the show-stopper was her hair. Every time he'd seen her, it was swept up and away. She always looked professional.
Tonight, she'd worn it loose in a fall of dark silk down to her waist. It was like seeing the hot librarian without her glasses and tight bun. She was a goddess of sensuality, and heaven help the entire male population of earth if she ever realized that and used it against them. It wouldn't be hard, and they'd be willing victims.
When she hit the flagstones, Rick swore he could feel the vibration of her heels on the ground over the steel drum music. She barreled right up to the bar. He was surprised her momentum didn't carry her over the counter.
Stephanie slammed her empty glass onto the bar. "Another one of those Caribbean what-evers, please."
"Coming right up." Rick watched her as he mixed her drink. Her color was high and there was a feverish light in her eyes that hadn't been there before. Some people were more affected by alcohol than others, but as far as he knew she'd only had one drink so far. Maybe she was just a lightweight when it came to drinking. Might not be such a bad thing if it helped her cut loose and have a little fun.
But with her shoulders back, her jaw angled up and her lips set in a firm line, she looked more like she was ready for a confrontation than a party. No, she definitely wasn't relaxing yet.
Another drink might be just the thing for that. This was the right time, the right place and he was the right man for the job. He added another generous splash from the bottle in his hand, slapped on the blender lid and hit "high."
When he handed the drink to Stephanie, he thought he heard her mutter something like, "I'll show him who's having a good time," and then watched, bemused, as she plucked the paper umbrella from the glass and downed about half of the contents in a few long gulps.
The band kicked into gear just then, blasting the Beach Boys "Surfin' USA." People jumped up from bar stools and lounges all over the patio to hit the dance floor.
Stephanie's head whipped around and her whole body went rigid. "No way!" she breathed. Her gaze fixed on the band, she downed the rest of her drink.
"What is it?" Rick said.
"Gotta go." She slid her glass toward him on the counter. "I'll be back for another one of these." She spared him a glance before she dove into the crowd, weaving her way to the middle of the enthusiastic crush of dancers to join in.
She was pretty tall, so it was easy to keep an eye on her, even in the middle of the crowd. He had to admit, she seemed to be loosening up. Her arms were up over her head and she was shimmying to the beat with something that looked a lot like wild abandon.
Rick frowned. He supposed it was nice that she was having a good time, and didn't worry about finding a partner. Most of the people on the floor were couples, but there were lots of singles who came here with friends. This resort was well known for the great parties it put on, one of the biggest selling points for people looking for a vacation that guaranteed a good time.
Switching gears only slightly, the band swung into the Commodores' "Brick House." Rick noticed that the guy behind Stephanie got a lot closer as even more people streamed onto the dance floor. Was he grinding on her? That was not okay. Rick tensed, watching for Stephanie's reaction, ready to move in if she gave the slightest sign the attention was unwelcome.
But no sign came. If anything she seemed to get more into the zone than ever. With the dancers jammed so close together, he couldn't see exactly what she was doing, but he got the general idea. She had moves like a pole dancer and wasn't afraid to use them.
Really? After two drinks? Rick picked up one of the bottles he'd been pouring from, checked it. Nope, just plain old tequila.
"Hey buddy, give me another one of these frou-frou umbrella drinks. The lady says she's thirsty."
Rick pulled his gaze away from the dancers long enough to flick a glance over the guy with the loud red flowers on his shirt. He hadn't even noticed him walk up, so focused had he been on Stephanie.
He narrowed his eyes. Flower-Boy had been one of the group surrounding Stephanie on the dance floor earlier. Wolf in wolf's clothing if ever he'd seen one.
"Tell the lady she'll have to come get it herself if she wants it." Rick didn't want to be any part of this guy's plan to get her drunk. He returned to watching Stephanie shake it like she'd break it out there. Make that more drunk.
Flower-Boy looked over his shoulder for a moment to follow Rick's gaze, then turned back. "C'mon dude," he said with a conspiratorial grin. "Do a bro' a solid. Won't take much more to get that girl out of her bikini top."
You did not just say that. Rick zeroed in on the guy. It was all he could do not to punch him right in his grinning mouth.
"Not gonna happen bro," he snapped. Stuffing the bar rag under the counter, he walked around the end of the bar and started towards the dancers.
"Hey," called Flower-Boy. "How about my drink?"
"I'm off duty," Rick tossed over his shoulder. He swung right to catch hold of a tall dark-haired guy in resort uniform standing next to a t
orch. "Hey Tony, take over the bar for a while would you?"
"Sure thing, boss," Tony said.
Rick said, as he turned to go, "And don't serve that guy in the red-flowered shirt unless it's a soft drink."
"You got it boss." The young man grinned and headed for the bar.
Rick spotted Stephanie. Her head was tilted back as she drained her glass. She handed the empty to a tall blond guy standing beside her and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek. Rick growled. He'd be damned if some party-junkie thought he was going to take advantage of his girl. He barely acknowledged the words, just let them settle into his gut where he knew they were true, and kept moving.
That drink must have come from the bar at the other end of the patio. He'd lost direct line of sight of her a few times as the crowd had swelled and he honestly hadn't thought about her getting refills from the other bar. He swore under his breath. How many had she had all together? Three? Four? Who knew?
The band was in full gear now, and Stephanie didn't need any help grinding at all. Her sarong was long gone, and she was the picture of an island goddess, with miles of bare skin only accentuated by the lacy scrap of bathing suit she wore. Her hair swung around her as she danced, teasing the curve of her waist, flirting with her breasts. He muscled his way through the shoulder- to-shoulder crowd. "Stephanie," he shouted over the music.
Recognition lit her face. "There you are, my pirate!" She grabbed his hands and pulled him close. "Dance with me."
She sure wasn't tense now. All Rick had time to register was the lush female body pressed to his, undulating against him in maddening, irresistible motion. How had his hands ended up on her ass?
"That's better." Stephanie covered his hands with her own. "C'mon baby, dance with me."
Oh, that's how.
He should say no. He should step away, and he would in a minute. Just one more minute. As soon as he could get his feet to listen to his brain.
For now, he just danced with her, helpless to resist the call of the night, the music and the beautiful woman who pulled him even closer. He couldn't believe how good she felt. Like...like she belonged right here fitted against him. She felt like...his.
Something she'd said tickled at the back of what was left of his mind. He leaned close to her ear. "Pirate?"
She leaned her head back to gaze up at him. "You look dark and dangerous," she said, a smile playing around her lips. Her eyes dared him to prove her wrong. "Or maybe it's just the earring." Then she spun around, pressing her back to him and he found his hands running over the taut, heated skin of her belly, having somehow slipped beneath the lacy front connecting the two halves of her bathing suit.
A feeble warning light flashed in his brain. This was so not gentleman-like. But now he was just thinking with his fingers as she danced, feeling the play of her muscles under all that bare, sweat- slicked, female flesh. The curve of her waist, the teasing weight of her breasts against the edges of his hands when he stroked just a little higher.
His breathing was ragged in his ears, and his heart pounded in his chest. This was crazy. She was making him crazy. He really should stop.
Stephanie snaked her arms up, looping her hands behind his head, fitted her round behind against his front and did a dance move that made him forget his name.
"Ah, God," he managed in a strangled gasp, and tried unsuccessfully to step back. He felt like a green teenage boy with his first woman. Holy crap.
"Oh, Natalie!" Stephanie released his neck to wave at the older lady from earlier, dancing with her husband in the crush. Rick almost fell over as she sidestepped to talk to the woman. He sucked in a couple of deep breaths, trying to get his head straight.
"Hi dear. Having fun now?"
"You bet I am," Stephanie said with a wide grin. "Oh! Hey!" Her eyes rounded. "I almost forgot, I need another picture. One of me having fun!" She patted her hands down her body like she'd misplaced something. "Oh my God, I can't find my camera." She turned soulful eyes on Rick. "I can't lose it."
"It's probably on the bar." He put his hands on both her shoulders and made sure she looked him in the eye. "I'll go get it, but you have to promise you'll stay right here and don't dance with anybody else until I get back."
"Sure, no problem. I'm not going anywhere." She hiccupped and covered her mouth with her fingers. Then she giggled. "Oops. Sorry."
Rick wondered how long she'd remember his instruction as he turned away and waded through the crowd. She seemed pretty wasted. He'd seen some people who were really sensitive to some kinds of alcohol, and some who were just lightweights not used to drinking.
On the one hand, he was glad she was loosening up. She needed it more than anyone he'd seen in a long time. She was in a safe place, no drunk drivers, mostly nice people, and he was here to keep away the ones who weren't so nice. On the other hand, she probably wouldn't remember it in the morning, at the rate she was going. Which wasn't going to help his goal of them getting to know each other better.
When he returned with the camera he'd found on one of the abandoned bar stools, he was relieved to see she was dancing in a little more low-key style alongside Natalie and her husband while they shouted a conversation above the music. "Here you go," he said, and handed her the camera.
"Oh, great!" Stephanie thrust it at Natalie. "I'm supposed to have a picture of...of... of..." She frowned for a moment. "Wait, I know this. I do. I was supposed to read a stupid book." She held up one finger. "Um, go get a massage." A second finger went up. "Natalie did you try the massages here? Oh my gosh, they are awesome!"
Stephanie chewed her lip as she thought. "Um...um, take a picture on the beach at sunset. We did that!" She raised a triumphant third finger, and then high-fived Natalie—or would have if her hand- eye coordination hadn't been so severely compromised.
Natalie and her husband exchanged knowing glances. The tall, lanky gentleman leaned closer to Rick. "You are looking out for her, I take it, Mr. Lowry."
"Please, call me Rick. And yes, but I'm not doing a great job so far."
"I know," Stephanie shouted. "I have to be at a party!" She spread her arms and looked around. "Looks like a party to me Natalie, what do you say?" She looped an arm around Rick's neck. "Ready?"
Natalie smiled and held the camera viewfinder to her eye. "Ready sweetie."
"Okay then. This should prove I'm havin' a good time."
Rick felt like he was watching Stephanie in slow motion. First her other arm came up around his neck, then she was plastered tighter than a jellyfish to the front of him. Oh, she's going to kiss me, he had a second to think, just before she set her mouth on his.
Months of wondering what kissing Stephanie would be like were answered in the space of the few heartbeats as heat built to the boiling point almost instantly. Her kiss turned hungry and she bit at his lips, captured his tongue with hers. I want you, her kiss said. He found himself answering her unspoken but unmistakable question, Do you want me?
He tightened his arms around her as she leaned into to him, drowning now in the feel of her tongue in his mouth, her fingers in his hair, her breasts crushed against his chest. God yes, was the answer his body shouted, as he took control of the kiss, answered her hunger with his own, thrusting his tongue against hers. He fisted one hand in her hair to pull her closer, bind her to him. You belong to me. The primal conviction in his gut surprised him, but there was no questioning it.
He heard a voice calling his name from what seemed like a long way off. He felt Stephanie pull away first, and wanted to howl at the feeling of loss. Instead he blinked, ran his fingers through his hair and cast a critical gaze at Stephanie. "You okay?"
She looked a little dazed, but nodded. "Sure."
"I think I got a couple of pictures you could show your parents dear, before you got, um, distracted." Natalie handed the camera back to Stephanie.
Rick snagged it. "Here, I'll take care of that," he said shoving it into his pants pocket.
Natalie's husband leaned a little c
loser to Rick. "Maybe you should get her back to her room while she's still walking," he said with a covert wink.
"Yeah," said Rick. "Probably not a bad idea."
"I'm not walkin'," Stephanie swayed on her feet. "I'm dancin'. C'mon my pirate, dance with me." She grabbed Rick's hands and pulled, the motion knocking her off-balance. She fell heavily against him.
Rick caught her without thinking, closing his arms around her. His hands met mostly bare skin, however he held her. Even in full-on caretaker mode it was impossible for him not to respond on an instinctive level to the luscious female body draped all over him. He tried not to think lascivious thoughts about the inebriated, helpless woman in his arms. And failed, pretty badly.
He gave a patient smile to the older couple over Stephanie's head. "Say goodnight, Stephanie."
She waved a hand without lifting her head from Rick's shoulder. "G'night."
Natalie smiled at Rick, and patted Stephanie on the back. "We'll see you tomorrow dear. I'm sure Mr. Lowry here will take good care of you."
"Have a good evening, folks," Rick said as he got an arm under Stephanie's shoulders.
Stephanie made it only a few steps when she stumbled badly. She would have been down on her knees if Rick hadn't been supporting her.
"Sorry... I'm so tired all of a sudden." No sooner did the words come out of her mouth than she collapsed bonelessly against him.
"Okay, then," he said, lifting her into his arms. "Time to get you to bed." He headed for the ocean front bungalows.
So much for spending some time getting to know Stephanie tonight. He'd have to come up with another plan. Maybe he'd take her out on his sailboat for an afternoon. Now that was a great idea. He'd stock up his galley tomorrow with everything he'd need for a romantic picnic for two.
A loud snore rose from her, as her head lolled against his shoulder. Tightening his hold, he continued down the path. "Lucky for you I'm a gentleman."
He thought about Flower-Boy, and his mind wandered down the path of what-if for a moment. What if she had passed out in the company of that sleaze-ball and his friends? "Really lucky for you."
