The realization had been a harsh one. Perhaps that was why she kept herself so busy all the time. If she’d stopped for a moment and truly looked around at what she was doing with her life, she’d have discovered how wildly unhappy she was. And who wants to learn that when they have no escape route? But now, Samantha mused, maybe she’d figure out a new way to live. Maybe.
Baby steps, she told herself. First things first, she needed to get her butt into a few therapy sessions when she got back home. There was some heavy stuff weighing her down that she’d need to work through. Next, she’d need to develop an exit strategy for the next year while she decided what the next stage of her life would look like. It wasn’t in her to flounce dramatically from the office in a hail of curses and overturned desks. Instead, she promised herself she’d outline a new plan that would deliver the life she wanted to live, and tell nobody – well, except Lola – until she had implemented it.
By that time, hopefully she’d have had enough therapy to deal with whatever onslaught came from her family.
“Ohhh, lady garden,” Jolie breathed, making Samantha jump and return her focus to the conversation. “I like that. Like you’re a flower to be plucked.”
“A rose yet bloomed,” Mirra chuckled.
“The sweetest petals –” Jolie began, but Samantha cut her off with a screech.
“Oh my god, that’s enough,” Sam said, blushing as they laughed, dancing around her, a whirling circle of color and vibrant energy.
“This, darling Samantha, is meant to be worn over a skirt,” Jolie laughed, holding the netting up and tying it around her flowing pink skirt. The wrap transformed the skirt into a sparkling blue-green fancy, and Samantha’s eyes lit up with delight.
“Ohhh, I see. It’s kind of like what belly dancers wear when they tie those chimes around their waist,” Samantha said, holding her hands out. “Gimmee, gimmee.”
“See? I told you she’d like it.” Jolie shot a look at Mirra, who just shrugged.
“This one is nice, if a bit sedate,” Mirra said, holding up a proper blue shift dress.
“He… um, Lucas, that is, said he’d like to see me wear red,” Samantha said, and the sisters squealed.
“Do you have red underwear?” Jolie asked as Mirra dug into Samantha’s bag of new clothes from the shop downtown.
“I have a red bra, but not matching panties,” Samantha said.
Jolie waved it away. “No need for panties under a long skirt,” Jolie said.
Samantha almost choked. No underwear? That seemed… entirely too decadent.
Mirra caught her look and smiled with understanding. “It’s freeing, I promise.”
“Baby steps, ladies,” Samantha said, using her boardroom voice, and Jolie saluted in response.
“Here. This is perfect,” Mirra said, dragging a dress from the bottom of the pile, one that Sam didn’t even recall purchasing. A deep siren red, it had a strapless neckline and a mermaid fit, then dropping away to the floor in a loose fringe. It was a simple dress, with blue accents embroidered at the bust and a touch of the whimsy in the fringe.
“I seriously do not remember buying this dress,” Samantha said, holding it up. “It’s not like anything I would ever have picked out.”
“I bet it looks great on you. Charlene knows what she’s doing. Go on, try it on, we’ll wait,” Jolie insisted, digging through Samantha’s jewelry stash. Sam took the dress to the bathroom. She knew it probably made her a fuddy-duddy in their eyes, that she hadn’t disrobed right there, but she’d never had sisters and wasn’t used to this level of intimacy among women friends.
And wasn’t it weird, she mused as she stripped, that these women had become friends so quickly? Was that the nature of island life? Or was it just the nature of these two? Because she did feel like they were her friends – or at the very least they had her best interests at heart – and she highly doubted they got this close with every guest that walked through the door.
Pulling the dress over her head, Sam quickly realized she’d have to go without with a bra as well, due to the strapless neckline. No matter, though – the dress fit her like a glove and she gasped into the mirror.
Who was this woman? She’d gone from tailored suits and impeccable blouses in muted tones to wild hair, tanned skin, and a dress with a fringe that tickled her legs.
“Let’s see!” Mirra called, and Samantha flung the door open, strutting out into the room.
“I told you it was perfect,” Mirra exclaimed, clapping her hands.
“It’s to die for,” Jolie agreed, grabbing Samantha’s hand and pulling her to stand in front of the full-length mirror. “Now, let’s tie this on for some extra oomph.”
Jolie tied the sparkly netting around Samantha’s waist, transforming her dress from simple and fun to sparkly and a bit outlandish. Never in a million years would Samantha have put this outfit together.
“It looks like I’m a mermaid,” Samantha laughed, turning to look at the sparkles that glittered down the back of the skirt.
“Speaking of, just the comb as the last touch,” Mirra said, coming forward with the comb Lucas had found. “No more accessories needed. And go barefoot.”
“Lucas found that comb in the ocean today,” Samantha said, looking into Mirra’s pretty blue eyes as she fussed with Sam’s hair. “It looks like it’s made from a shell. I wonder if the pearls are real.”
“Of course they are.” Mirra’s eyes met hers, dead serious. “It’s a mermaid comb.”
“I… well, I mean, sure, it looks like one. But it’s probably just from one of the village shops, right?” Samantha asked.
“No, it’s a mermaid comb,” Mirra said, and turned, showing Samantha the mirror. “See? Don’t you look just like a mermaid now?”
Sam could only gape at the vision she saw in the mirror. Mirra had performed some sort of intricate braid on half her hair and secured it with the comb, leaving the rest to tumble down her back in a riot of saltwater curls. Her skin looked flushed – but a healthy flush, not a nervous or embarrassed one – sunkissed, Sam decided. The dress was a bit ridiculous, loads of fun, and the sparkle wrap just added to the costume of it all.
“I suppose, if mermaids could walk, they might look a bit like this,” Sam laughed. “Honestly, this is so fun! God, I don’t know when the last time was that I just had fun.”
“That’s what we’re here for. Now, channel your inner mermaid tonight with Lucas, won’t you?” Jolie said, as they all piled down the steps to the main floor.
“Irma told me to do the same, but I’m not really sure what that means,” Samantha said.
“It means be free with what you want in your life. Take power in your femininity. Flow with the ocean or rage if needed, but no matter what – trust in your own power,” Mirra smiled, looking for all the world like a blonde angel of wisdom.
“Is that how you both seem so confident with yourselves? I’m surprised you don’t have every man for miles around eating out of your hands,” Samantha said, following them into the kitchen where Irma was prepping for the cookout.
“Who said they don’t?” Irma asked, catching the tail end of the conversation. She let out a whistle when she saw Samantha. “And don’t you look sassy this evening!”
“I can honestly say that nobody has ever referred to me as sassy before.” Samantha dimpled under the compliment.
“Well, Lucas is about to get an eyeful, because once he sees you tonight, I don’t think he’ll be able to keep his eyes off of you.”
“You think? Hmmm, I quite like that,” Samantha said, sending the room into laughter.
“It’s going to be a fun group tonight. A few of the neighbors and two catamarans of old friends from a neighboring island passing through.”
“Is Esteben here?” Jolie demanded.
Irma nodded, sending the sisters into a frenzy. They dashed from the room without another word, and Samantha turned to look at Irma in question.
“You’re not the only one who
may have a hot date tonight,” Irma said with satisfied smile, pouring potatoes into a pot for mashing.
“I’m sassy and have a hot date,” Samantha said, testing the idea.
“No need to rub it in, dear,” Irma chuckled.
Chapter 31
“I take it back,” Samantha said to Irma hours later. “I’m not that sassy.”
“Don’t let my girls intimidate you,” Irma laughed. “They’ve had years of practice owning their sensuality. You’re still learning.”
They watched as Jolie flitted by in a barely-there scrap of ocean blue silk that made her eyes and certain other assets pop. The sailors’ eyes tracked her with hunger – well, those who weren’t watching Mirra laugh her way around the fire, equally alluring in a gossamer wisp of a white lace dress.
“Doesn’t it bother you?” Samantha wondered. Her own mother would never approve of the outfits these women wore, let alone how they openly flirted with various men. She’d likely call them hussies – or something worse, Samantha thought, pressing her lips together.
“That my daughters enjoy sex? No, it does not. So do I. I think it’s the worst kind of slut-shaming that society does. Men are patted on the back for the number of notches they add to the bedpost, but women have to be demure and chaste their whole lives? It’s just another way for the patriarchy to hold you back,” Irma said. She looked resplendent in a shimmering gold dress that stopped just short of her bare feet, where one toe was adorned with a shiny toe ring. “As women of the ocean, we rise above society’s standards. We’re in touch with who we are, and we own our sensuality and our power. You’ll learn to as well, if you spend more time here – near the water.”
“I think I’d like to learn that,” Samantha said. “Maybe not the notches on the bedpost thing, though it certainly sounds entertaining. But the owning my power aspect. I’d always considered myself a powerful woman in a high-level career, until I realized I haven’t been making choices for me.”
“See? The ocean is already working her wonders on you.” Irma pressed a kiss to her cheek and gave her a gentle push toward where Lucas was walking down the sand with Pipin at his side. “Go greet your man. I’ve got to get the food on this BBQ.”
“My man?” Samantha shook that off with a laugh, but her eyes hopped over the variety of people tucked at tables and chairs they’d pulled haphazardly onto the beach to watch the sunset. Irma had lit the large BBQ pit, and tiki torches were stuck in the sand at random points around them to ward off the bugs. Music throbbed in the background, and people had gradually wandered down the beach, joining the group with hearty welcomes. A few people already swayed to the music, and Sam found herself lost in the charm of this easy get-together where there were no rules or expectations other than to have fun. It was so far from the perfectly manicured world of seating charts and country clubs, and she wondered why she’d been striving for a life like that in the first place. This looked to be much more her speed.
Pipin raced to her, wiggling at her feet, but being a good boy and not jumping on her dress.
“Hi buddy,” Samantha said, delighted that he remembered her, crouching to give him scratches that had him all but convulsing in joy.
“Go on,” Lucas told the dog, “say hi to everyone.” Pipin raced off in a beeline of joy to find Jolie and Mirra who instantly showered him with similar levels of affection.
“Hello,” Samantha said, smiling shyly at Lucas. “You look nice.” He looked more than nice, she thought, with loosely rolled green canvas pants and a white shirt that set off his tan.
“For once, I envy the enthusiasm with which my dog is greeted,” Lucas murmured.
Samantha laughed. “You want me to give you belly rubs?”
“I wouldn’t say no,” Lucas said, stepping close to her.
Samantha glanced around to see if anyone was watching before placing a chaste kiss on his cheek. “We’ll see,” she laughed, then caught her breath when he pulled her close for a languid kiss for everyone to see. Samantha could feel the embarrassment creeping through her even as it was overtaken by an even stronger wave of lust.
“Just in case any of the men got any ideas about you,” Lucas said, his gaze predatory as he looked at the group on the beach.
“Oh? You’re claiming me?” Samantha asked, feeling a bit giddy at the thought. She’d never really had anyone be so outright… male about her.
“Yes,” Lucas said simply, his green eyes steady on hers. The flame of a tiki torch reflected in their depths.
“I don’t remember you asking,” Samantha said, trying out some sass for size.
“I didn’t,” Lucas said, leaning over to nip at her ear, pressing a kiss to the delicate curve of her throat and sending a shiver down her body.
“What if I want to flirt with one of those men?” Samantha demanded. “We aren’t dating, you know.”
“Is that really what you want?” Lucas asked, his gaze steady on hers, calling her on her bullshit.
“No,” Samantha sighed, “I don’t.”
“I’ll be straightforward with you: If you’re trying to make me jealous or want to play games, you should know I left that kind of nonsense back in the States.”
“I couldn’t play games if I tried,” Samantha said, digging her toe glumly into the sand. “I was just trying out being sassy, since Irma said my dress made me look that way.”
“It does. You’re heart-stoppingly beautiful in this dress. And you’re welcome to try out sassy as much as you want. When you’re alone. With me,” Lucas said, his eyes hot. Samantha gulped against her suddenly dry throat.
“Dinner’s on!” Irma called.
Lucas smiled, his eyes twin pools of lust.
“Saved by the dinner bell.”
Chapter 32
And what a dinner it was. Irma served a mixed grill, perfectly roasted over the open flame, along with sides of potatoes and salads. Everyone heaped loads on their plates, and either balanced a plate on a knee or pulled up to one of many little tables strewn across the sand. Some people laid out on blankets, laughing and talking, pointing to where the sun dropped toward the horizon.
Behind it all, the beat of the music thrummed, seeming to hum deep in her blood, and Samantha found herself wanting to dance. Not yet, of course – nobody else was dancing and it wouldn’t be seemly. But maybe later she would, if other people did. Lucas had asked her to save a dance for him, so it seemed likely.
Sam eyed the rainbow-colored glass full of punch she’d been handed.
“Just how much rum is in these things?” Samantha asked.
Irma smiled as she passed by in a swirl of clinking bracelets and gold silk. “The right amount.”
“Well, that tells me nothing,” Samantha grumbled.
“You don’t like the punch?” Lucas asked. He was making Pipin perform a ridiculous number of tricks – in her opinion, at least – before giving him a piece of hamburger.
“No, I love it. But I just feel like dancing, which is not something I usually feel like doing, so I think I’m getting tipsy,” Samantha said, then sighed, reaching over to snag a bit of chicken and hand it to the patiently waiting Pipin, who devoured it in one gleeful bite. “You’re torturing this poor dog.”
“I am not torturing him. He knows he’s not supposed to beg at the table. If he wants to beg, he will need to perform before he’s rewarded with food. It’s to deter him, because some people don’t like dogs around the dinner table,” Lucas explained patiently.
“Oh. And I just told him it was fine?” Samantha asked.
“Pretty much,” Lucas grinned at her. “It’s okay though. He promises to still try to be a gentleman around you.”
“That seems to be theme in your household,” Samantha said, a lot more harshly than she intended. Once again she eyed her rum drink.
“Is someone getting a wee bit cranky?” Lucas laughed, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close so he could press a kiss to her neck.
“No,” Samantha
lied. “Yes. Maybe.”
“Take it slow… achingly slow,” Lucas whispered at her neck, sending shivers through her once more. “But first… we dance.”
“Dancing?” Samantha perked up. She was a horrible dancer, and yet she loved to do it. The only time she ever got a chance to dance was at weddings, and since everyone looked like a fool at weddings, she didn’t really care.
“After the sun sets.” Lucas fed a patient Pipin another piece of food. “Now, watch for the green flash. It looks to be a good night for it.”
“What’s the green flash?” Samantha asked.
“On days where there’s no clouds on the horizon – like today – as the sun slips into the sea, in the last instant before it goes beneath the horizon line it flashes a brilliant green color. I like to think it’s because the sun lights the ocean with its rays and puts it to bed before the moon comes out to play.”
“That’s charming,” Sam murmured, and snuggled into Lucas as he held her. She watched as the sun slid slowly into the ocean and, in the last instant, Sam saw it.
“The green flash!” Sam exclaimed, thinking she’d imagined it, but those around the beach were high-fiving each other and exclaiming over it.
“Cool, huh?” Mirra asked, stopping by them on her way toward the water.
“It is. Does this happen every night?”
“No, not even close. But it’s a treat to see it. Just another fun thing to look forward to each day,” Mirra said, and swirled on down the beach, smiling and flirting with a slew of men, leaving their jaws open as she walked past.
“I wish I could command a room like she does,” Sam murmured – then realized she’d said it out loud.
“You’ve got a pretty strong presence too, my beauty. You just don’t see it yet,” Lucas said, his hand tracing circles lightly at her side.
“I’m trying,” Sam said.
“Just be yourself. And have fun,” Lucas said, standing up to clear their plates. He came back carrying two more rum punches, and she eyed them suspiciously.
Good Girl Page 14
