Chapter Three
Will took in the restaurant environs. White lights strung from the rails to the roof of the restaurant building provided a soft, romantic glow. Each table in the outside area covered with its hibiscus-print cloth. The hurricane lamps were devoid of fingerprints or splatters of anything. The staff swept the old, splintery pier every afternoon, leaving it free of debris. Whenever he returned from a trip, he ran the grounds to get a good look at everything. Was there a more beautiful island anywhere? Each dwelling stood out of sight from the others, set in an environment where the guest could enjoy privacy as well as the flowers and trees. Most offered a beach view.
So many of their guests held stressful positions on the mainland and came here to absolutely get away from that environment. Most left their cell phones locked in the office safe, in fact, to ensure their peace and quiet, although the staff would never insist. And if the guests never found out they actually had Internet access in the office, nobody got hurt. Their tech genius/dive guide had some blocking trick for any other method of connecting to the Worldwide Web. Will didn’t ask how it worked. In case it wasn’t legal.
Ms. Carmichael still possessed her phone. No big surprise. Most first timers chose to do so. He’d done a little research on her while in Miami. Nothing crazy. A Google search. Checked out her LinkedIn profile. A few other sites open to anyone who cared to look. If people realized how much could be found out on them, they would be shocked. He’d picked up a lot of tricks from the investigators who assisted him with cases at the firm, but rarely needed to employ them. He’d called her office and spoken to the travel coordinator, as well, presenting himself as a representative of the resort. She’d been only too glad to chat about the reservation and the woman for whom she’d made it.
The woman had more than confirmed his guess the lovely Arabella Carmichael was a stress case of the very worst kind. A couple of weeks on the island could do wonders. Like many of their guests, she hadn’t taken a trip for pleasure in years. Over a decade, it seemed. No wonder she’d been practically vibrating with tension.
The fairy lights’ reflections shimmered as the lagoon’s gentle wavelets rolled past. Will focused on them as he questioned his actions of the last few days.
He always wanted to help the guests to relax and enjoy their stay. But he’d never done a background check on one before. Or cut his own vacation short to rush back and spend time with them. Surely at least one had also had ruby lips and high cheekbones, perky breasts and a small waist curving to flared hips?
What made Arabella Carmichael different? Why did he want to know everything about her?
“Will, you made it back early.”
Turning from his aqueous contemplation, he grinned at his friend. “Hey, Earl. I did, indeed. Having a good time?”
“I sure am. One of your more attractive guests will be joining me for dinner tonight and afterward…”
“You dog. Even here, you manage to find someone to take home. What’s she like?” Will pulled out a chair and sat at a nearby table. “No, let me guess. Pretty, smart, successful?” The guy had always displayed good taste, at least in the selection process. But he was a hunter, only interested in the chase as long as the quarry remained out of reach. Once he’d bagged his prey, his interest level dropped to zero.
“She’s all those things. I think Arabella might be the one.”
Will’s blood chilled. “Arabella Carmichael?”
“That’s right. You know her?”
“Not really, but she came in with Charlie the day I left, so I got a glimpse. Very attractive woman.”
Earl nodded vigorously. “She is hot, isn’t she? For a little thing, she’s got big tits. I can’t wait to get my hands on them.”
Like hell. “You sound pretty sure of yourself.”
“Well, she’s put me off until now, but when I ran into her at lunchtime, she agreed to have dinner with me and well…we know what that means.”
“Lobster?”
Earl’s eyes sparkled. “Maybe so, if she orders it. I mean what happens after dinner.”
“Dessert?”
The attorney winked. “We can call it that.”
He had to get him off the topic before he punched him in the face. “How about a drink?”
“I don’t know. Arabella should be here any minute.”
Will pushed to his feet. “Excellent! I’ll make three, then. Be right back.”
By the time she finished her makeup, she’d changed her mind six times. Earl would assume she’d be going back to his room, tonight. He’d implied as much, and she hadn’t corrected him. If she wanted to have sex for therapeutic reasons, what difference did it make? Her friends, the single ones mostly, talked about one-night stands. It always sounded like too much trouble, and maybe a little soulless, but on this island with nothing else to do and an admittedly hot guy asking, it seemed silly to resist at least trying out the theory.
The sundress fit well, sleeveless with a fitted bodice and short, flippy skirt, and its tangerine hue set off her new tan. Turning in front of the bathroom mirror with her hairbrush in her hand, she decided the high sandals might be possible to wear on the hard-packed sand by the water. So she was short. If Earl didn’t like her type, he could look elsewhere. But considering the guy had been practically panting every time he got close to her, he wouldn’t care if he had to bend down to kiss her.
After a few final strokes with the brush, she set it down and gathered her hair into a high ponytail. She’d promised to meet Earl in the dining room in about fifteen minutes, so she grabbed her little clutch purse and tossed in a lipstick and a couple of other necessities and headed off along the darkened beach. Her thoughts fluttered everywhere, but mostly on the rest of the evening. Aside from his overly obvious interest in bedding her, he seemed nice enough, if also a little career driven. Like her. Yet, he’d still taken time off for a vacation.
Oh well, driven or not, she didn’t expect a lifetime with him. Just some quality bedroom time. Help her relax a little. Already she could move her neck better, and the constant throbbing in her temples had eased. A couple of nights of wild lovin’ with a cute guy could go a long way toward healing. How could she forget?
Practicality in all things.
Following the curve of the beach, she reached the northern tip of the island and inward where the dining hall stood on the end of a dock reaching out over the lagoon. Not a very resort-type name for the place, but it’s what everyone called it. Most of the tables were outside, but a small indoor area offered a cozy spot on a cool evening. Earl told her the owner had all the guests come to his house, once, when a hurricane loomed near enough to make the restaurant’s location less than safe. Tonight, the few clouds from sunset had fled, and a big yellow moon hung over the ocean. Very romantic.
For those who cared about things like that.
As she stepped onto the wooden surface, strains of Jimmy Buffet’s “Come Monday” carried to her on the warm, damp breeze, and she picked up her pace. The restaurant, little more than a shack to all outward appearances, but the one time she’d gone in to ask a question, she’d been amazed at the honey-colored wood tables and chairs glowing in candlelight. Candles flickered in hurricane glass lamps on the outdoor tables. The honeymoon couple sat side by side, kissing and murmuring to one another while their dinner grew cold. What did they care? They lived on love.
Ugh. Hadn’t she lived long enough to know better? She’d been days from the wedding when Don cheated on her and reminded her pushing aside her career goals for romance made no sense. If he hadn’t left the firm shortly thereafter, she might have.
Skirting the huggy pair as if they could contaminate her by any contact, she headed for Earl, seated at a table along the outer railing.
“Great location. Been here long?” Taking the chair across from him, she set her clutch on the decking next to her.
Earl looked especially island chic in a cacophonous floral print shirt and cargo shorts. Sperry boat shoes completed the ensemble. Same shoes as the Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome. His blond hair never moved in the breeze, though, heavy-duty product glistening under the fairy lights. He offered her a broad, white-toothed smile. Shark!
“Just a few minutes. You’re right on time.”
She licked her lips, darting her tongue back inside when his gaze focused on her lips. “Oh, good. I hate being late.”
He leaned close, and she had to fight not to move back. “It’s the islands, Arabella. You can’t be late on island time.”
She laughed, edgy and uncomfortable. “Oh, sure. I suppose.” Why was she so wound? She’d been around Earl since she got there with no such reaction. Of course, she hadn’t planned to have sex with him before. All the more reason to do it and get it over with. And not to wait so long between lovers again. “Shall we order drinks? I could use a martini or maybe…” The words dried up in her throat as a man came toward them holding three glasses on a tray.
“Three Goombay Smashes.” He set them on the table then, to her surprise, sat down and joined them. “Will Sanders.” He thrust out his hand, and she lifted hers and accepted his grip. “We almost met when I was boarding the plane for the mainland.”
“Did we? Oh, I remember.” She blamed the electricity prickling up her arm and rocketing into her core for her coy words. “Arabella Carmichael. Are you…the bartender?”
“At least some of the time.” He waved toward the trio of tall glasses topped with pineapple wedges. “I made these. Give me your opinion.”
“Goombay…?”
“Smash.” He rested an elbow on the table. “Very popular drink in these parts. Most people make them wrong.”
Edging her fingers back from his, she wrapped them around the glass, welcoming its coolness under her palm. “What’s in it?”
“Since I obtained the recipe through a highly secret source, I can’t tell you, but take a sip. See if you can figure it out.” She’d know that smile anywhere.
“Okay.” Completely self-conscious, Arabella brought the straw to her lips and took a long sip. “Pineapple juice, rum…something coconut?”
“A start. Maybe when I know you better, I can give you some of the ingredients. Do you like it?”
“I do. Refreshing and sweet, but not cloyingly so.” She sucked on the straw again. “Yes, tasty.”
“Shall I bring more?”
If he did, her already-giddy brain might turn to slush. “Not yet. Let’s take our time and order some appetizers. Coconut shrimp, maybe?”
His eyes were so dark, but in the dim lighting she couldn’t be sure of their color. Dark blue? Brown? His olive skin might be the result of lots of sunshine, since he worked here. A bartender. What a perfect vacation fling. And he couldn’t be more different from her ex-fiancé and the other men she’d dated. A simple guy with a simple job and a beautiful smile. Judging by the way his T-shirt clung to his upper arms and chest, he had some muscles, too. She’d gotten a look at his trim waist and fine backside when he climbed the plane steps.
“Did you run past my place tonight?” she blurted out, just as a waitress set a plate of the crispy, coconut-coated prawns in front of them. While she mused over Will’s attributes, someone had placed their appetizer order. One of the guys.
“Hibiscus Cottage? Yes, it’s along my running route. I hope I didn’t bother you.”
Bother her? Hot and bothered more likely. She hadn’t even been aware it was him. Or had she been, on some level?
Forcing her eyes from the man who’d caught her attention merely by walking past her and boarding a plane, she took in Earl. He was also attractive. So why did Will’s touch engender such a positive reaction while she’d never actually allowed Earl to so much as take her hand so far?
Aware she’d become the focus of both men’s scrutiny, she grabbed a shrimp and bit into it, chewing slowly while she considered the situation. She’d made a date with Earl and should give him the courtesy of her attention. But I don’t want to.
“How have you been enjoying your stay, Arabella?” Will asked. Relieved to be asked a direct question, she swallowed the shrimp and considered how to reply.
“Have you worked here long?”
“Quite a while, yes,” he said. “Why do you ask?”
“Well, I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings because it’s a beautiful island and everything at the resort has been good. But there’s nothing to do here.”
Although suddenly, what she’d planned to do sounded much more appealing. Just not with Earl. Perhaps she’d become fickle in her boredom.
“I can think of a few things.” Earl tipped his drink back, and Will beckoned to the waitress.
“A Goombay Smash for my friend.” He paused. “Arabella? Another?”
“Just water, please.”
“Same for me, Melissa. But don’t scrimp on the rum for the Smash.” From where she sat, Arabella noticed him wink at the server. Hmm.