Chapter 9

Logan

Katie didn’t answer the call. She let it ring, her mouth half-open, those plush, delicious lips working to form words that wouldn’t come.

I equally wanted and distrusted her. The distrust had come from my dealings with Marino, and my dealings with women in the past. The want? Shit, that’d come out of fucking nowhere, and I couldn’t rid myself of it no matter how much I tried.

I’d almost buckled when she’d mentioned her return to New York and the possibility that we wouldn’t see each other again.

“It’s work,” she said, at last. “I can take it later after we’ve dealt with our little shitstorm in a teacup.”

My gaze tracked over her body, firm beneath the blue cocktail dress she’d worn last night, and the night before. Shit, I still hadn’t had her bags retrieved from the Fuego. I’d been too distracted by her, by Marino, by all the drama on this island.

“I thought you were going to call someone about the whole annulment thing?” She slipped the cell phone back into her bag.

“The phone’s out,” I replied. Which was already a cause for concern. It was an island, sure, and things worked differently here than they did back in the States, but I’d never run into a technical difficulty with any of the phones at this resort before. “Mind if I borrow yours? I’d like to phone my cell and see if someone answers. I need it back as much as we need the annulment.”

Katie hesitated and my suspicion deepened. “Sure,” she said, at last, and brought the phone back out of the bag. She handed it over, still with deep reluctance, and I forced a smile in her direction, ignoring the surge of desire when our fingers brushed.

“Thanks,” I said, and unlocked her screen. I entered my number and dialed, pressing the phone to my ear, waiting.

The number you have dialed is not available at present. Please try again—

“Fuck,” I grunted, and hung up.

“No answer?”

“Nope. It’s probably been sold and stripped for parts by now.”

Katie giggled and put out her hand. “All right, so can I have my phone back?” she asked.

“After I’ve called the front desk to get the number for a local lawyer,” I replied, then walked through to the living area, past it, and into the kitchenette where the phone was, and the list of numbers tacked up beside it.

Katie followed, hot on my heels. The suspicion which had budded grew. What was her deal? Why was she really here, on this island, and why didn’t she want to leave? I hadn’t seen her bother to contact this agent and other person she’d supposedly planned on meeting with at El Toro.

I shoved my doubts aside, along with thoughts of her naked underneath me, moaning for more, and dialed the number for the front desk. Three rings, no answer. Five rings, no answer. This was bullshit.

Each time I’d called the desk in the past, the answer had been immediate. “What the hell?” I hung up and handed her phone back. “No answer there either.”

“I guess we try again later, then,” Katie said. “Which is fine. It’s not like this marriage is going anywhere. Ugh, but this ring certainly can.” She put her phone on the kitchen counter and worked at the ring on her finger. She tugged, wrinkled her nose, and squirmed on the spot. “Shit. It’s not coming off.”

“For real?”

“Yes, for real. It’s not coming off,” she repeated. “God, where even did it come from? I mean, unless you were carrying it around in your pocket.”

“Here, let me see,” I said, and took her hand. I ran my thumb over the cheap gold and frowned. “I don’t make a habit of carrying rings around, and I wouldn’t be caught dead buying one like this. The robed dude must have provided it.” Or someone else. Christ, this was a fucking mess. “Come.” I walked her to the sink in the kitchenette, still holding her hand, then opened the cupboards and searched them.

I’d made a point of asking the resort to stock my bungalow with food, much to their chagrin. I didn’t usually order room service, and though the bungalow was billed as a self-service deal, they expected Mr. Wright to make full use of their restaurant and services, rather than cook for himself.

But I understood what it was like to be stuck in an emergency without the essentials, and this time, it’d paid off. I scooped a bottle of extra virgin olive oil out of the cupboard, unscrewed the lid, popped it off, then brought the bottle over to her hand.

“Think it will work?” she asked.

“Only one way to find out,” I said, and poured the oil over her hand. I set the bottle down, then took her tiny hand in mine and worked the yellow liquid into her finger around the ring. I massaged a little and she sighed. “That good?”

“Kind of, yeah. Don’t judge me for saying it, but this is probably the most relaxed I’ve been the entire time I’ve been on this island.”

“I don’t blame you,” I replied, and fell silent focusing on her dainty fingers, the gaudy ring, and the sensation of her smooth skin beneath a layer of oil.

My dick rolled over in the pants I’d thrown on when I’d returned to the bungalow. Easy. Calm the hell down.

The ring still didn’t budge. “What, did they weld this thing on?” I asked, and tugged a little.

“Ouch,” she said.

“Shit, sorry.” I massaged away whatever pain I’d caused, this time meeting her gaze. She was so expressive, so fucking gorgeous. Innocent, blue-eyed, and strawberry blonde—I’d never had a type, but damn if she wasn’t it. And you don’t know her. Can’t trust her. “So, tell me,” I said. “Why’s your name Jinx?”

“It’s just a nickname,” she said, and shrugged, flushing a pretty pink. The same pink as her nipples. Fuck, definitely not a good idea to think about them. “I was clumsy as a kid and people started saying I was jinxed. It stuck, and I’ll admit, I kind of like it. It’s spunky. Maybe I’ll use it as a pen name one day. Katie Jinx has a ring to it.”

“It sure does,” I replied, still working her fingers.

Katie gulped. “That feels really good.”

I had her right where I wanted her. “Do your parents call you Jinx too?”

She stiffened slightly. “My parents? Well, I— My mom does. She’s the only parent I’ve ever had. My dad left when I was really little.”

“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. I hadn’t had the best parents either, but at least I’d had two of ‘em, for a short while anyway.

“It’s fine.” She waved away the words with her free hand. “It’s not like you can miss something you never had. My mom was all I needed, like a dad and mom all rolled into one. She did girly stuff with me, and she taught me how to fish.”

“You can fish? Shit, I love fishing! Deep sea or fresh water?”

“Both, but I prefer the deep sea. There’s something about being out there on the ocean, you know?” Katie lit up, becoming more animated than I’d seen her since, well, since I’d been inside her.

“Fuck yeah,” I said and opened my mouth to suggest I take her fishing someday. But Marino stalled me. The missing phone, the blackout night, the threats, the emissary. I couldn’t ignore all of that, put everything I’d worked for these past six months on hold for this woman.

An awkward silence followed, and I quit massaging her hand, grabbing some paper towels from the dispenser beside the sink. “Here,” I said, and she dried off. “Listen, I feel like a dick for not having your bags sent over. You must be seriously uncomfortable in that.” I couldn’t help getting another eyeful of her in the dress.

“Yeah, it’s pretty shitty,” she said and tugged on the fabric to straighten it out. “I think I’ll take a shower.”

“Good idea,” I replied. “You can take some of my shorts and a shirt out of my closet. Probably be more comfortable than that. And, shit, I’ll whip us up something to eat while you’re busy. We’ll think more clearly on a full stomach.”

“Sounds great,” she said and offered me that sweet smile again. The doubts I’d had about her evaporated. Katie picked up her cell and trudged off, her ass swaying in the dress, begging to be followed down the hall. Not this time. Let her go.

It was difficult to do just that. I hadn’t let go of anything for a long time. My business, my personal life—I was in control of it all, and a part of me wanted to do the same with her. But she couldn’t be controlled. She was free, and that was part of the appeal.

I shook my head to clear it and set about clinking pots and pans. There was bacon in the fridge, eggs too, and some fresh bread in the bread bin. Tomatoes, fuck yeah, and some mushrooms. All the fixings of an awesome breakfast. I balked at the champagne bottles which clinked in the refrigerator door. Whatever had happened last night had definitely involved alcohol, and I didn’t want a repeat.

The bacon was sizzling in the pan, its scent of salty goodness spreading through the kitchen. Finally Katie returned, wearing—god help me—a loose T-shirt which stopped a couple of inches above her knees.

“I would’ve worn the shorts too,” she said, “but they kept falling off. No offense, but you’re pretty big.”

“I don’t think there’s a universe in which I’d find that offensive,” I replied, grinning at her. Her legs were gorgeous—smooth, pale, practically fucking edible. I averted my eyes to keep from freaking her out.

“So,” she said, and sauntered over, bringing with her the scent of coconut. Her hair was dark now, messy and wet, and she ran her fingers through it. “What’s the plan?”

“The plan,” I said, “is not to panic. Panic gets us nowhere. After breakfast… shit, what time is it?” I checked the clock on the wall. It was already 4 p.m. “After dinner, we’ll try calling the front desk again.”

“Right,” Katie said, and, once again, placed her cell phone on the counter. “Well, you know, I could always run out and see what’s happening instead. While you’re busy cooking I mean.”

“Alone?”

“Yeah, why not?” She frowned at me, because, of course, she didn’t know who might be lurking on the island, waiting in a shadowy corner to jump out and snatch her, take her from me.

If I was a dog, my hackles would’ve risen. “No,” I said. “We’re in this shit together, right?”

She lifted her hand and looked at the ring on it. “At least you don’t have a gold ring glued to your finger.”

“True that,” I said.

“Seriously, I can go check it out for us.” She shifted toward the exit and I crossed the space between us, caught both her hands and held them tight. Jinx inhaled, sharply, fluttered her eyelashes up at me.

“No,” I said. “You’ll stay.” Now. Tonight. The day after. Fuck, why did I need her around so badly?

Katie’s lips quivered as she bit down on the bottom one. “Stay?”

“Yes,” I breathed, the pan behind us still popping and crackling on the stovetop, hot as the air between us now. My cock strained to be inside her. “Stay.”

She released her lip slowly and moaned, “Logan—”