Last Ticket to Paradise

by Carol Ericson

  He crouched in front of the biggest suitcase, which Jean-Claude had left gaping open. As he ran his hands through the expensive clothes, a splashing noise from outside had him springing upright and spinning toward the door.

  He’d left his weapon securely locked in his room’s safe—wasn’t doing him much good now.

  Someone pushed against the locked door and then sighed. “Jake?”

  He lunged forward and yanked open the door, pulling Georgette inside the room. “Did you follow me?”

  “I confess.” She held up her fingers in a peace sign. “I did. I had the same idea myself, so when I caught a glimpse of you hightailing it down that walkway to the beach, I figured out your destination.”

  “And you thought it was a good idea to search through the personal belongings of someone who may have been attacked for setting up a meeting with you?”

  “Well, yes.” She pointed her phone, its flashlight beaming, at the suitcase open on the floor. “Looks like you already started with that one, so I’ll take a peek in his carry-on.”

  He grunted. “Did you get tired of having your back rubbed?”

  Her head jerked up. “You saw that?”

  “I see everything—when it comes to you.”

  “I think you see everything, period.” She flicked her loose hair over her shoulder. “I have to play the part, keep my reputation heading in its downward spiral.”

  “It’s a dangerous game, Georgette, and I’m not sure it’s going to get you anywhere.”

  “I hope you don’t mind,” she batted her mascared lashes at him, “but I sort of told everyone about our coitus interruptus.”

  “You what?” His fists bunched into some silky material in Jean-Claude’s bag.

  “Don’t worry. I don’t think anyone really believed me.” She dipped her head to the bag on the bed as she clawed through it. “You had quite the reputation at one time with the ladies, but it seems you’ve become almost monk-like in the past year or so. Let’s just say I saw skepticism in their faces.”

  “I should hope so.” He shook his head. “You’re taking this too far.”

  “Although I did garner the female attention at the table when I reported how,” she cleared her throat, “well-endowed you were.”

  He tossed a handful of Jean-Claude’s clothing at her, showering her back with the fine materials. He opened his mouth and then snapped it shut. He’d been about to tell her how she was becoming more and more like her sister every day, but Georgette wouldn’t appreciate that.

  Giggling, she cranked her head over her shoulder and winked at him. “You should’ve seen their faces.”

  He shook his finger at her. “I never thought you were the type to kiss and tell.”

  “I am now if it sets me up to be the next Palarosa sacrifice.”

  He scooped up Jean-Claude’s clothes from the floor, resisting an urge to run his hands up her short dress and into her panties. That was not what they were doing here.

  After folding the shirts, he unzipped the inside compartment of the suitcase and slid his fingers inside. He pulled out a sheet of paper with Jean-Claude’s itinerary printed on it and shoved it in his pocket.

  “Jake.”

  “Shh.” He put his finger to his lips as water splashed outside the bungalow. The tide was rising, but it didn’t bring breaking waves with it.

  Georgette’s eyes widened as she turned from the bed. She hissed, “What is it?”

  His body tense, he took a few creeping steps toward the door.

  He jerked his head to the side. A projectile sailed through one of the windows.

  Georgette screamed as the Molotov cocktail landed on the floor between them and exploded into flames.

  Chapter Ten

  Black, acrid smoke scorched Georgette’s lungs. She pressed one of Jean-Claude’s T-shirts to her nose and mouth, her watering eyes frantically searching for Jake on the other side of the wall of flames.

  “Georgette! Georgette, are you all right?”

  She sobbed against the T-shirt, her legs almost collapsing beneath her. “I’m okay. Get out! Use the door and get out!”

  His voice carried back to her through the roar of the fire. “There’s a window on the other side of the bed. Do you see it?”

  Her gaze darted to the left, but the smoke obscured everything more than a foot in front of her. “N-no. I don’t see it. Leave, Jake!”

  “It’s there, to the left of you. Head toward the window, Georgette. You can get out. It’s just a mosquito net over the window. Get through the window and drop to the water. Do it now before the thatch roof catches fire.”

  She raised her eyes to the orange flames licking the ceiling and then inched to her left. The heat singed the hair on her arms, and panic pumped through her body as her hand reached toward the dark smoke billowing to her left. How could she be sure the fire wouldn’t meet her on the other side of that noxious cloud?

  “I can’t. Just leave. I’ll figure it out once you’re safely out of here.”

  She heard the front door open and close, and tears rolled down her face. At least Jake would be all right.

  A second later, the door crashed open and a figure covered in wet clothing plowed through the flames. Jake caught her around the waist, almost yanking her from her feet. He clapped a wet cloth over her face.

  As he half dragged, half carried her through the smoke, she squeezed her eyes shut, trying to pull in small breaths of air through the damp T-shirt pressed against her nose.

  She heard a ripping noise close to her ear, and then Jake hoisted her off her feet and pushed her toward an opening. As the warm, moist air hit her face, she gulped in a breath only to choke on the ash that must’ve been swirling through the air.

  “It’s the window, Georgette. I’m gonna shove you into the water. Get ready.”

  Georgette coiled her muscles and held her breath as Jake gave her a hard push through the opening. She hit the water in a belly flop, but a belly flop had never felt so good.

  Salt water invaded her nose and mouth, and she blew it out before tilting back her head and gasping for air. The tide had come in enough that she couldn’t touch the ocean floor with her toes. Ash and smoke clogged the night sky, but it beat being on the inside of the hut with the inferno.

  Jake landed next to her in a bigger splash and reached for her before he even surfaced. He popped up and spluttered. “Are you okay? Tell me you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine...I think, but let’s get away from the bungalow.” They paddled away from the fire, and Jake nodded toward the shore. “We’ve been spotted...or at least the fire has been.”

  Several people were gathered on the beach, arms waving, fingers pointing toward the blazing bungalow.

  As Georgette lunged toward the shore, Jake caught her ankle. “Do we really want anyone to know we were in Jean-Claude’s room when it exploded in flames?”

  “Exploded in flames?” Georgette dragged her hand across her runny nose. “You make it sound like spontaneous combustion instead of...arson.”

  “Arson?” He sank farther down in the ocean, his chin level with the water. “I’d call that attempted murder. That was a Molotov cocktail someone tossed through the window.”

  “Because he knew we were in there, or because he wanted to destroy anything Jean-Claude may have left behind?” Her legs felt like lead as she treaded water with the skirt of her dress clinging to her thighs.

  “Maybe both.” He took her arm. “Let’s swim to the right where we can surface away from the hotel and the probing questions.”

  “I can’t swim in this dress. It’s weighing me down.”

  “Take it off.” He put a finger to her lips. “I won’t tell.”

  Georgette reached back to untie the halter at the back of her neck. Then she gasped and pressed a hand to her midsection. “Do me a favor and put this in your pocket.”

  “What is it?”

  She pulled out the soggy postcard she’d taken from Jean-Claude’s bag befo
re the bungalow erupted in flames. “It’s a postcard. I’ll explain later.”

  Jake folded the card into a square and tucked it in the zippered pocket of his shorts.

  Ducking beneath the water, Georgette pulled off her dress and tossed it onto a flaming piece of debris floating a few feet away. “I don’t want that washing up on shore.”

  “Good idea.” Jake peeled his shirt, pocked with scorch marks, over his head and added it to the fire.

  They swam side by side, parallel to the shore, until they reached a blacked-out area on the beach.

  Jake pulled up and tapped her on the arm. “Let’s head in here.”

  Georgette twisted her head to the side and peered at the glow in the distance. “Will someone come and put that out?”

  “Doubt it. It’s not close enough to the other bungalows to be a danger to them. It’ll just burn into the sea.”

  “Along with all of Jean-Claude’s stuff.”

  He landed a salty kiss on her mouth. “At least we’re not in there with his stuff.”

  As they entered the shallow water, Georgette changed direction and switched to a breaststroke. Soon enough, she was on her knees in the gritty sand, slogging through the gentle waves that raced her to the shoreline.

  Jake reached terra firma first and reached out to help her onto the beach.

  She stumbled beside him, naked except for her panties clinging to her body. She crossed her arms over her chest, although the cloud cover obscured the light of the moon, and Jake had already seen her assets—so had several people at the pool.

  Despite the cool air, a hot blush claimed her body when she thought about her antics at the resort. That had been for a purpose, and she didn’t regret it.

  She didn’t regret this either. She dropped her arms and pulled back her shoulders. “Lead the way.”

  He laced his fingers through hers and pulled her around to face him. “First, can I say that I’m damned glad you got out of that bungalow?”

  “Thanks to you.” Curling her toes into the sand, she squeezed his hand. “I couldn’t see through that smoke, and I wasn’t sure where the window was. Y-you shouldn’t have risked your life coming through the flames like that. You could’ve gone through that door so easily when the fire started.”

  “And leave you behind?” He scooped one hand through her wet hair. “I couldn’t do that. Did you think I would?”

  Cupping his face in her hands, she said, “I just wanted you safe. That’s all I could think about. And you? I didn’t even ask. Are you injured? Burned?”

  She dropped her hands and skimmed her palms across the slabs of muscle covering his chest.

  “I’m fine—a little singed hair on my arms and legs.”

  “And your lashes.” She touched the tip of her finger to the ends of his stubby, black eyelashes.

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against his chest, bare skin against bare skin. Slanting his mouth across hers, he kissed the salt from her lips.

  She moved against him, her nipples skimming the sand clinging to his chest. Her fingers inched up his broad back, and then she traced his spine with the pad of her thumb before hooking it in the waistband of his shorts.

  When he ended the kiss, Georgette whispered against the throbbing pulse in his throat, “We’re safe. We’re both safe.”

  “Not yet.” He grabbed her hand. “Let’s get back to the hotel.”

  “Like this?” She spread her arms. “I’m half naked.”

  “Darling,” he tweaked her peaked nipple, “you’re almost completely naked. But we’ll find a way. The resort is clothing optional.”

  They trudged through the dry sand, and Georgette tugged on Jake’s hand, tipping her head toward the dark gathering of trees on the other side of the sand. “That’s where the Palarosa ritual rock is, isn’t it?”

  He nodded.

  Goose bumps raced across her arms, and she turned away from the forbidding, shadowed area. “It looks even more isolated at night.”

  They crept on the overgrown pathway that snaked along the outer edge of the pool area. She would’ve never spotted Jake making his way toward the beach this way if she hadn’t been on the lookout for him. Hopefully, nobody gathered at the bar now would be on the lookout for them.

  Jake ducked down a walkway that led to a building housing a set of rooms that must have a spectacular view of the ocean. He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m taking you to my room. I can drop by yours later to get you some clothes to make you decent...although I kinda prefer you indecent.”

  Georgette walked closely behind him, her nose almost poking him in the back, just in case they came across another guest.

  “People actually stay in these rooms? They must be suites judging by how far apart the doors are.”

  “They are suites, usually for our long-term guests and regulars.” He jogged up a few steps, and she followed. “Just around the corner.”

  When they reached his door, Jake produced his card key and flashed it at the reader. The locks clicked inside, and Georgette let out a long breath.

  Jake pushed open the door and held it for her. “After you.”

  As she took a step into the room, a familiar voice cut through the night. “Jake! Jake!”

  Gunther, huffing and puffing, raised his hand and scurried down the short hallway. He pulled up abruptly when he saw Georgette in the doorway, and his brows shot up to his bald pate as his gaze tracked down her body, from her bare breasts to her skimpy, lightweight underwear clinging to her in all the wrong places.

  “So sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever this is.”

  Jake stepped in front of the door, blocking Georgette from Gunther’s view. “Just a little fun in my private Jacuzzi, and Georgette decided to play a trick on me and lock me out. What are you doing here?”

  “Oh my God. You haven’t heard?”

  Jake’s back stiffened slightly, and Georgette placed her hand against his skin. “Heard what? Is it about Jean-Claude? I called the hospital earlier, and he was still alive.”

  “It’s not about Jean-Claude. It’s about his bungalow. It caught fire. We watched the damned thing burn into the ocean.”

  “What?” Jake cranked his head over his shoulder, and his eyes locked with hers for a second. “Did anyone call the constable?”

  “No, I don’t think so. Not much could be done to save the structure, and it wasn’t a danger to anything...or anyone else.”

  “That we know of. Nobody was on the water at the time?”

  “We didn’t see anything or anybody. Just the fire.”

  “I’m going to have to check it out in the morning. Won’t do much good to take a look at it now.” Jake shook his head. “First Jean-Claude in the pool, and now this.”

  Georgette cleared her throat. “Maybe Jean-Claude left something burning in the bungalow, and it caught fire.”

  “That could be. Thank God, nobody was hurt.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, the ends slightly singed. “I’ll call Clive tomorrow, first thing.”

  “A lot of good he does.” Gunther sniffed. “I thought you should know. Nobody could locate you—now we know why. So sorry to intrude, children. Carry on.”

  Jake herded her into the room and slammed the door behind them, locking the latch at the top.

  “Do you think he believed us?”

  “Why would he have any reason to doubt my story? It’s a good thing you did kiss and tell about our encounter this afternoon. Makes this,” he circled his finger in the air to indicate his rooms, “more convincing.”

  “Except I would never lock you out of the room.”

  “You must be chilled.” He wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug.

  “Actually, ever since you mentioned the private Jacuzzi to Gunther, I haven’t been able to think about anything else.”

  “Clothes?”

  “Jacuzzi.”

  He laced his fingers through hers and led her to a set of French doors across the room. He pu
lled them open, and a gentle breeze caressed her face. Jake’s balcony, which was more like a patio, faced the ocean. A table and chairs and a chaise lounge occupied one side, and a hot tub filled with sparkling water the other.

  Jake flicked a switch, and the water came to life. “Is that to your satisfaction?”

  “It looks lovely.” Her shoulders finally relaxed as she let out a deep sigh.

  “I think we need a glass of wine after our near-death experience.” He held up one finger. “Hold on.”

  As Jake returned to the room, Georgette shimmied out of her damp panties and stepped into the warm, bubbling water, sinking to the seat and extending her legs, letting them float in front of her.

  A few minutes later, Jake returned with a bottle of wine and two glasses. “I didn’t get the pleasure of watching you undress.”

  She plucked up her underwear between two fingers and tossed them at him. “It wasn’t much of a show.”

  He poured out two glasses of wine, set the bottle on the table, and brought the glasses to the side of the hot tub. He then rose from his crouch and yanked down his shorts.

  Georgette’s gaze locked onto his erect cock, and she lodged the tip of her tongue in the corner of her mouth. He’d given her so much pleasure this afternoon, and she hadn’t been able to return the favor.

  She crooked her finger at him and in a husky voice said, “C’mon in. The water’s fine.”

  “That’s not the only thing that’s fine.” He sank into the water, lowering himself onto the seat next to her. He picked up the glasses and handed one to her. “To staying alive.”

  “To staying alive.” She clinked her glass with his and took a sip of the red wine, allowing the fruity liquid to loll on her tongue before swallowing it.

  Jake gulped back half his glass and set it on the edge of the hot tub. Beneath the water, he reached for her, parting her thighs. “Relax, my love.”

  Georgette stretched her arms along the side of the hot tub, tipping her head back, her fingers curled around the stem of her glass, her breasts bobbing gently on the surface of the water.

  Jake stroked her inner thighs with his knuckles, pushing her legs wider and wider apart until the hot water swirled around her, the bubbles caressing her. He smoothed one finger over her clit, and her bottom lifted from the seat.