Nicole hissed through her teeth. “It’s better than that, darling. Palarosa is more practical. It’s not a virgin the Palarosa gods want. They demand the sacrifice of a fallen woman.”
Georgette giggled and gestured around the pool. “I guess there’s no shortage here.” She clapped her hand over her mouth. “Sorry.”
Gunther stroked Georgette’s curls. “I think our girl has had a little too much island punch.”
Jake clenched his fists. Gunther definitely preferred men, but he’d bed a woman if the fancy struck him. Jake was just happy about the change in subject. There was too much rumor and speculation about Palarosa...especially lately. It was bad for tourism, bad for business.
Jake pushed up from his chair and grabbed Georgette’s wrist, pulling her up with him. “Come on. Let’s get you a glass of water at the bar and a little fresh air. These two smoke too much. I’m going to ban it out here one of these days.”
She dug her high heels into the patio and leaned back, but he pulled her along with him. When they reached the bar, he hunched over the smooth mahogany. “Miguel, could you please get Georgette a glass of water?”
“Sure, boss.”
Georgette drew her brows together. “Why are you pulling me around?”
He put his hands on her shoulders just to touch her smooth skin. “I warned you about the island punch, and now I’m warning you about Gunther.”
She gulped down the water. “Gunther’s gay.”
He snorted. “Yeah, tell that to the last two women he screwed.”
She wrinkled her nose. “You mean he’s not gay?”
He got her a refill on the water and shoved it toward her. “He’s bi. He prefers men, but he likes to frolic with the ladies, too.”
She put the glass down. “Like you do?”
He raised his brows. She’d noticed? She cared? Was that why she’d sniped at him? “You mean those women in the pool?”
Her long dark lashes swept down over her eyes. “Yeah, those women in the pool. You certainly looked engrossed. I guess the job has certain perks.”
He laughed. Was this uptight woman just a little jealous? “Well, I do have to keep the guests happy.”
“Does that include sleeping with them?”
He held up his hands. “Whoa, what do you take me for, a gigolo? That’s when a man—”
“I know what a gigolo is,” she snapped.
He pulled her close and whispered in her ear, “I’ll let you in on a little secret. I call those women the Silicone Sisters. I think just about everything on them is fake.”
Her laugh bubbled up, and he grinned. He couldn’t make that comment to any other woman at the resort, since he could never be sure who had been injected or implanted with what around here. He was sure Georgette was one hundred percent natural.
His hand rested on her back, and a tremble rippled through her body. “Are you cold? You must be from an even warmer climate if you think this is cold.”
She shook her head, and her wild hair floated around her face. It was just the way he’d imagined it when he’d seen those wisps of curls escaping her braid this afternoon. On the plane, she’d had it straightened out and pulled into a ponytail.
“Actually, I’m from North Dakota. It’s still pretty cool there right now, but it gets warm in the summer months.”
“What does one do in North Dakota?”
She ran her fingertip along the rim of her glass. “I live in Grand Forks. That’s where the university is. My dad was a professor there, and he had a bookshop...has a bookshop. I mean, my dad passed away over a year ago, but my mom and I still have the bookshop. And that’s what I do. Run the bookshop.”
That fit. He could envision her among piles of books, glasses shoved down to the tip of her nose, thick chestnut hair escaping a severe braid, plaid skirt hiked up around her thighs. He cleared his throat. “And what brings a bookshop owner from North Dakota to Palumba?”
She turned her head and asked Miguel for another glass of water. “You’re right about that punch. I think one’s my limit.”
Why was she avoiding his question? He waited while she sipped her water. “Why Palumba?”
Her shoulders jerked up and down. “Why not Palumba? I work in a bookshop, remember? We have an extensive travel section. I read about Palumba and decided it would be a good place for a spring vacation.”
She was lying. Single female bookshop owners did not up and decide to come to Palumba. Was she chasing a man? Lucky guy. But why would any man run from her? Maybe she was escaping a man. He’d find out before she left.
“Do you want to slip off those heels and take a walk out to the water?”
She exhaled. “Sure.”
She hung her bag across her body and dangled her shoes from her fingertips. “Can I leave these here?”
“Miguel will put them behind the bar.”
They strolled across the patio and scuffed into the sand. A half moon hung in a sky brilliant with stars. Jake’s hand brushed Georgette’s, and she folded her arms.
Other couples glided along the shore, each merging into one figure, or snuggled on blankets tossed across the sand.
Georgette stared out at the inky water, creased with lines of bubbling white foam. “This is beautiful. What made you decide to build a hotel? Were you involved in business before?”
Jake stood beside her, inhaling her feminine scent carried by the gentle breeze. “It’s what I was trained for from the time I was old enough to tap the keys of a calculator.”
She frowned. “Family business?”
That was an understatement. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts. “You could say that.”
As she swiveled her head around, her brows shot up. “Kincaid. John Russell Kincaid and Sons?”
News from Manhattan did travel to North Dakota. He raised his hand. “I’m ‘and Sons.’”
She whistled. “Palumba’s a long way from Manhattan.”
Not long enough. His father still tried to exert his influence. “I never cared much for the city. When I found Palumba, I knew what I wanted to do.”
“Your father put up the money?”
His jaw tightened. “I paid him back, every cent.”
She held up her hands. “I’m sure you did. I’m surprised he let you buy him out. He must be proud of what you’ve done down here.”
He grunted. “Not exactly. Thinks I’m wasting my time. He thinks I’m here to party, surf, and dive.”
She spun around to face him. “But surely he can see how efficiently you run the resort. It must take a lot of work.”
“He’s never been here.”
She sputtered, “Never been here? Why? You’ve done a fantastic job.”
“Except for the food and wine cellar, apparently.”
She smiled. Then the shine vanished from her eyes, and she turned away from him. Why couldn’t she relax and give them a chance to get to know each other? Why did she keep backing away just when things got good? Maybe she was inexperienced with men and didn’t recognize when one was attracted to her.
And he was attracted to her.
He took a deep breath. “My father and I don’t see each other much. He doesn’t realize I’ve changed.”
“Changed?”
“There’s a good reason he thought I came down here to party, surf, and dive. That’s what I used to do, but this place worked its spell on me.”
She studied his face, as if trying to read every line. “And you don’t party, etcetera, anymore?”
Did she really suspect him of preying on his female guests? He grinned. “I still etcetera.”
She pursed her lips and took a few steps away from him. What did he say wrong this time? Seemed as if she purposely misunderstood him. He followed her down the sand.
The thump-thump of drums reverberated to the water’s edge. Shrieks and yells followed.
Georgette turned her back to the ocean. “What’s that?”
He waved his hand toward the
torches at the Costa Azul. “It’s the Palarosa show.”
The primeval beat of the drums reverberated in his belly. The pagans had it right. The drums’ rhythms awakened a sensual chord in his loins—or maybe that was the Georgette effect.
The breeze caught her hair, whipping a strand across her face. Her long, golden legs gleamed in the moonlight. One strap of her dress had fallen off her shoulder, revealing the swell of one perfect breast.
He pulled her to him, resting his chin on top of her head. His stubble caught her hair, and after disentangling himself, he tilted her chin up. She half closed her dewy eyes. He swept his tongue along the crease of her lips, tasting the sweet punch. Her mouth parted, and his lips caressed hers.
Ending the kiss, he glanced down at her feet, his gaze lingering on her lovely legs, and smiled. “You don’t even have to stand on your tiptoes.”
Georgette pulled away from him. Planting her hands against his chest, she shoved him. “Unlike my perfect, petite sister.”
She pivoted in the sand and started running up to the lights of the Costa Azul.
Jake’s mouth gaped open as he watched Georgette’s receding figure. What just happened? She’d been running hot and cold all night. He’d meant that comment as a compliment. They were a perfect fit.
Sister?
Was he supposed to know what that meant? Did he know her sister? He raked his hands through his hair. Georgette...damn, he didn’t even know her last name. He threw his head back and groaned. Did he have some wild fling with her sister back when he was still having wild flings?
He swore and marched back to the resort. He avoided the pool area by slipping through a side entrance to the lobby.
“Hello, boss. Do you need something?”
He shook his head at the desk clerk. “Just need to check something on the computer.”
He went into the back and dropped into a chair. He punched a few keys and accessed the guest search screen. He typed “Georgette” into the first name field and hit the return key. The guest registration screen appeared for Georgette Lawson.
He slumped back in his chair, digging the heels of his hands into his eyes. Damn.
***
Why did Jamie have to ruin everything for her? Georgette sagged against the bathroom stall door, pulling toilet paper from the roll. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she tried to staunch their flow.
This evening could’ve been so perfect. Jake was interested in her. When he’d pulled her close, she’d felt his erection. Men couldn’t fake that. Could they?
Oh God. Maybe he knew she was Jamie’s sister, and that’s why he was attracted to her. Maybe Jamie dumped him, and he was using her to get back at Jamie. Maybe he just wanted to get close to her as a way of staying connected to Jamie.
She pounded her fist on the door. Jamie, Jamie. Why couldn’t she have this man all to herself? She liked Jake Kincaid. No. She hated Jake Kincaid.
How could he know she and Jamie were sisters? North Dakota? Jamie usually never got that deep in a conversation. She jumped from hello to your place or mine? in a matter of minutes.
The hotel registration. She’d even told the desk clerk Jamie was her sister. So, he knew and was playing some kinky game.
A fresh wave of tears threatened to choke her. She sniffed and blew her nose. Get a grip. She hadn’t even cried this hard when she found a naked Jamie straddling an equally naked Brice in his bed...with his pipe clamped between her teeth.
She wouldn’t have Brice after that, and she won’t have Jake now. She almost succumbed, even knowing he’d been with Jamie. That kiss had been like paradise. She could almost forget. Almost.
She stumbled out of the stall and leaned against the vanity. She bent over the sink and splashed water on her face. Okay, Jake was off-limits. There were other men at the resort. She planned to enjoy herself while she waited for Jamie. When Jamie returned, they’d have a drink, Jamie would move on to the next island and the next man, and Georgette would go back to North Dakota. But not back to Brice.
She patted her face dry and reapplied her lipstick. The eyeliner was a lost cause.
She pushed out of the bathroom. Drawn to the drumbeat, she sidled up to the edge of the crowd watching the Palarosa ritual show. Men in loincloths, their oiled bodies gleaming in the firelight, undulated in front of a raised platform. A woman, giggling and shaking her hips to the beat, stood on the platform, her arms tied with colorful scarves to two bamboo poles. Women wearing sarongs shimmied around the platform.
The tempo picked up, and the men plucked small torches from the side of the stage and thrust them toward the woman on the platform. She squealed and wriggled, while her friends in the audience called out encouragement.
A big man commanded the front of the stage and raised his arms. The drums fell silent, as did the crowd. “Palarosa gods, we offer our sacrifice for the protection of our island.”
He dropped his arms, and the drums began a frenzied beat. The dancers bent forward at the waist and whipped their heads back, yelling and shrieking. The eyes of the “human sacrifice” grew wide, and her mouth formed a perfect O.
She disappeared from the platform, and the crowd gasped as the torches formed a pyramid where the hapless tourist once stood. Then she bobbed up from behind the stage, and with two of the half-naked dancers at her sides, took a bow. The crowd, along with Georgette, released a collective sigh and cheered.
While people mobbed the dancers to get their pictures taken, Georgette slipped through the crowd back out to the beach. Although a little kitschy, the Palarosa ritual was an exciting and effective show, but she understood why Jake didn’t follow suit at the Palumba Falls. His place was all about the beauty of the island, not capitalizing on tourist gimmicks.
A few lovers still huddled on the mostly deserted beach, and Georgette kicked at the dry sand on her way back to the water’s edge. Maybe she should give Jake a chance. It was just a fling, after all, not a lifelong commitment. Did she have too much pride? Jamie certainly hadn’t been particular about sleeping with Brice even though he’d been Georgette’s fiancé.
Jamie hadn’t even been sorry. Said she did it for Georgette’s own good. She wanted Georgette to find her in bed with Brice. She was the one who told Georgette to meet her at Brice’s place to go over some wedding plans. But when she got there, Brice didn’t look like he was thinking about any wedding.
Brice was at her feet the following day, apologizing. Told her Jamie seduced him, but Georgette found out it hadn’t been the first time Jamie and Brice had been together. The affair began the day after Jamie returned from one of her jaunts. Not much of a seduction.
Jamie explained that she saved Georgette from a dull life with a dull man. “You always wanted to travel, Gigi. You don’t want to be stuck in Grand Forks all your life, do you? If you marry Brice, that’s what’s going to happen. You need excitement and adventure.”
Jamie even invited her on her next trip, but Georgette had the responsibility of the bookshop and Mom.
Georgette tripped over a clump of seaweed. It was dark. A few clouds skittered across the face of the moon. She glanced toward the strand. A dark strip marked the gap between Palumba Falls and the neighboring hotels. She’d learned from the other guests that Jake owned that, too, but wouldn’t develop it, giving the Palumba Falls an isolated location.
A couple, arms entwined, followed her. Georgette shoved at the seaweed with her toe. It smelled dank and briny, like the bottom of the sea.
The water splashed behind her. She turned her head. A pair of arms wrapped around her waist, tackling her, knocking the breath from her lungs. She fell to her knees in the shallow water. She yelled. A rough hand clamped over her mouth. The other hand clenched the back of her neck and pushed her down. She arched her back to throw off her attacker, but he fell on her, flattening her to the sand.
The hand on her mouth moved to grab the back of her hair, twisting it in a fist. Her assailant shoved her face into the water. Salt water filled her m
outh and nostrils, and she blew out. He pulled her head up, and she sputtered, dragging air into her lungs.
He pushed her head into the water again. She held her breath. Sand crunched between her teeth. She bucked against the body on top of her.
Her head came up. She blew water out of her nose and opened her mouth to gather another breath. She had to keep breathing.
The water pulled out, and the relentless hand ground her face into the wet sand. Salt water and sand stung her eyes.
The man yanked her head back by her hair and growled, “We told you to go home. Leave now, or you’ll be going home in a body bag.”
Chapter Four
Jake banged on the door to Georgette’s room. “Georgette, let me in. We need to talk.”
Damn it. Did she think he had something to do with her sister’s disappearance? Did she encourage his attentions to get information about Jamie? He bit the inside of his cheek. Had she encouraged him?
When she didn’t answer, fear raced through his veins after what had happened to her already. He hit the door with his palm. “Georgette, I have a key, and I’m coming in.”
He slid the card key in the reader and pushed the door open. The thin white drapes billowed into the room, carried by a breeze from the open window. Didn’t his staff warn her about the mosquitoes?
“Georgette?” He flicked on the light. Her bed was turned down but not slept in. Knots clenched in his gut. Where could she be at this hour? After she’d flounced away from him, she’d headed for the Costa Azul. Was the bar still open over there? A flash of heat spread over his chest. Was Georgette just like her sister? Did she run to the arms of some man?
No way.
He took a turn around the room. He had to tell her about Jamie. He had to warn her about the rumors.
His walkie-talkie crackled, and he pressed the talk button. “Yeah?”
“Boss, you better get out to the poolside bar,” Miguel croaked.
Needles of fear pricked his scalp as he jogged to the pool area. Miguel crouched beside a figure huddled in a blanket, and Jake strode across the tiles.
Last Ticket to Paradise Page 4
