Holly felt as if she had just gotten to sleep when the pilot jarred her awake.
“Good, morning, Mr. Cantrell and Ms. McIntyre. It is five-fifteen in the morning and it’s a balmy eighty-seven degrees and partly cloudy,” the pilot announced in a cheerful voice. “If you could please take your seats, we’ll be preparing to land shortly.”
She rolled over in the private jet’s king-sized bed, groping for Jackson. When she felt nothing more than pillows, she opened her eyes. The door to the main plane was open and she could see him in the kitchenette and smell the scent of fresh coffee.
Holly slid out of bed and opened the single dresser to pull out the bag Mrs. Klein had packed for her. She took a pale yellow sundress and some clean underwear into the tiny bathroom and changed before washing her face and brushing her teeth. She was just pulling her hair up into a braid when Jackson knocked on the door.
“Morning, Holly,” he said through the glossy wood. “The car’s here and I’ve made us some coffee.”
She opened the door to see him buttoning up a short-sleeved shirt over a pair of shorts. His casual approach in certain situations was still almost mind-blowing. As Holly watched him repack his things into his suitcase, she felt a tightness in her chest. These little moments with him, doing these everyday things most people wouldn’t think about, was almost too much for her. And when he turned, sensing her presence, he smiled, melting her heart completely.
***
“Hey,” Holly said, looking fresh-faced and ready for vacation. He liked yellow on her; it complemented her rosy skin and blonde hair.
“Hey, yourself.” He held out a cup to her. “Light and sweet, as you like it.”
She took a sip and he watched her shoulders visually relax as she deeply inhaled the French roast. They collected whatever items they’d used the night before and shoved them into their bags before sitting and buckling themselves in.
She held her coffee tightly as she peered out the small window, watching the ground rise to meet them. “The water’s so blue! It’s just like on TV.”
“Just wait until you see it in person.”
“Oh, shit,” Holly groaned, turning to look at him. “I don’t have any bathing suits in New York! Mrs. Klein couldn’t pack what I didn’t have.”
“Don’t worry about a thing, Holly.” He knew she didn’t have many beach-related things and was thankful he had called ahead to the resort to have a personal shopper select some clothes and bathing suits for her. “Vacation is all about living easy.”
Holly looked as if she didn’t believe him, but she looked back out the window, sipping her coffee as the wheels touched the runway. When the jet had taxied off the runway and stopped before the small airport, Jackson took her hand and helped her through the plane and onto the tarmac. A white convertible sat waiting for them, sent by the resort.
Holly grinned. “Is that our car?”
“Sure is.”
She squealed a bit and ran over, the hem of her dress dancing around her upper thigh. “This is so exciting! I’ve never been in a convertible before.”
“Do they not have cars in Michigan?” He laughed, pulling a shopping bag from the back seat. “Here, something to get you started on our vacation.”
Inside, she found a pair of sunglasses, tortoise shell and large, just like the ones she wore at home. “Love them.”
Jackson opened the passenger side door for her but she bypassed him, snatching the keys from his hand and hopping into the driver’s seat. She settled herself in and the engine roared to life. She lowered her shades and peered up at him playfully. “Are you going to get in, or am I vacationing without you?”
“You don’t know where you’re going,” he pointed out, taking a seat and shutting the door behind him.
Holly shrugged. “It’s an island. There’s only so far I can go before I hit water. Live a little.”
Jackson laughed as she drove off the tarmac and onto the busy streets of Bridgetown. He had to admit, her slow evolution from a reserved secretary to the sassy siren who called the shots turned him on. He couldn’t wait until he got her into the villa and out of her sundress.
“Turn here,” he ordered. “Then, don’t stop until you reach the beach.”
Jackson watched as she sped down the highway, loose strands of golden hair whipping her cheeks. She had a smile that widened when the resort came into view. The Sandpiper was one of the most secluded spots in Barbados. Jackson had to outbid an oil sheik for the top villa at the last minute. He knew he overpaid, but he wanted to impress.
“Is this our hotel?” Holly pulled up next to the main resort building.
“Sort of.” He left the car and helped her out as a valet greeted them and took the keys.
A broad shouldered man in a pale cream-colored suit welcomed them, handing them each a mimosa topped with fresh fruit. “Mr. Cantrell, thank you so much for choosing the Sandpiper. I hope you and Ms. McIntyre enjoy your stay with us.”
Jackson took holly’s hand and they followed the host to a waiting golf cart. Holly giggled a bit. “We need a ride through the lobby and up the elevator?”
“We’re not staying here,” he whispered into her hair.
She turned to him, brows furrowed. “Then where are we staying?”
“You’ll see.”
***
Holly couldn’t believe her eyes as the host stopped the cart before a long, wooden pier. He handed Jackson a pair of keycards and left them at the base, their feet sinking into the white sands. She looked out over the calm teal waters, seeing a little hut at the end of the slip.
“No way,” she breathed as they began their walk down the pier and toward the exotic cottage. “That’s where we’re staying?”
“Yes.” Jackson grinned, pulling a pair of aviator shades from his pocket and slipping them on. “It’s the best on the island, completely secluded.”
The hut was immaculately clean. A large, white, four-poster bed sat in the middle of the room, which had a tempered glass floor. Holly stepped on it carefully, looking down at the blue ocean, the coral visible beneath the clear water. She felt as if she were walking on water and it made her slightly uneasy. On the bed were a number of bathing suits, beach cover-ups, sun hats, sunglasses, and sandals—many more items than were really needed for a three-day stay.
“What do you want to do first?” Jackson asked, opening up some of the windows and letting the ocean breeze in.
“I don’t know.” Holly took long strides to the bed and hopped on, feeling like a child playing ‘hot lava.’ “This is just so much.” She put her empty glass on the nightstand and sifted through the bathing suits.
“If you don’t like them, I’ll have them send more.” Jackson came up behind her, wrapping his arms around her chest. “I want you to have everything you need here.”
“Everything’s remarkable.” It was true; the only thing that could’ve made it better was if it hadn’t been a lie. Holly pushed the thoughts from her mind, trying to focus on the picture-perfect vacation. Living in the present was much more enjoyable than worrying about the future.
“I’m glad.” He went to the balcony. “The water’s nearing ninety degrees. How about I order us some breakfast and we take a dip while we wait?”
Holly nodded and grabbed a white bikini from the bed, then went to the bathroom to change. The bathroom had the same glass floor and Holly gingerly took wide steps to get close to the vanity. She was just getting comfortable with the glass, but as she saw the little fish darting around beneath her, she was once again unsettled. Living on the edge of Lake Michigan had made her a little uneasy about any large bodies of open water. She knew how dangerous it could be, swallowing up ships in a moment and drowning unsuspecting swimmers the next. She had a fear-based respect.
When she left the bathroom, a bottle of sunscreen in hand, Jackson had already changed into his own bathing suit. The dark green bottoms settled low on his hips and the dimples of his tanned lower back were fully visible as he leaned over the edge of the railing. Holly smiled, thinking about how he was totally hers for three days.
“Ready?” he asked, looking over his shoulders at her.
She held out the bottle. “I’ve already done my front. Can you take care of my back?” Holly smirked a bit as he grinned in return. She was eager to have his hands on her, no matter how innocently it began.
He massaged the lotion on her shoulders as she held her hair up, his hands skimming her body, dipping low on her back and sliding under the edge of her string bikini. Holly leaned into his touch and knew he’d already covered her exposed skin more than enough.
Jackson put his mouth against her neck and whispered, “Ready for a swim?”
Holly sighed as her back touched his chest and his hands slipped over her stomach and under her breasts. Jackson picked her up. She half expected him to carry her to bed and ravish her, but instead he stepped over to the edge of the pier and jumped into the clear water below.
***
Jackson laughed as Holly rose to the surface, drenched and smiling.
“I’m glad I was already in my bathing suit,” she said, pushing her hair off her cheeks.
“I asked if you were ready for a swim.”
Holly swam to the ladder. Holding on with one hand, she splashed at him with the other. “You never even asked if I could swim.”
Jackson paused. He hadn’t asked that. “I’m so sorry, I just assumed…”
She grinned, slapping water at him. “I grew up on an island, you idiot. Of course I can swim!”
He grimaced and swam toward her, gripping the end of the ladder. Holly looked out into the ocean, her lips turned up in happiness, her legs churning beneath the sea. He sneaked a peak down at her full breasts, rising above the water. The white top clung to her, outlining each minute curve and was now nearly transparent as it soaked in the water. Jackson felt himself harden and he made a mental note to leave a generous tip to the resort staff who’d made their purchases
“Can I help you with something?” Holly asked evenly, pointing at her face. “My eyes are up here.”
Jackson cleared his throat, embarrassed at being caught gawking like a schoolboy. He glanced up at her face, seeing her brows raised in amusement. It was clear she didn’t mind his interest. He even thought she pushed her hair away from her chest to give him a better view, or it may have just been a coincidence.
“Maybe,” he replied, putting an arm around her waist and drawing her against him. The strings of her bikini brushed his fingers and he fought the urge to pull the cord.
“What’s that?” She put a hand at the back of his head.
He pressed his lips against hers, pleased when she moaned into his mouth. His hand drifted up to her breast and she wrapped her legs around his hips. Jackson groaned as she grinded against his erection. Her nipple hardened against his palm.
“God, Holly, I need you,” he rasped against her neck as she thrust her hips again.
Jackson knew they were secluded. All other villas were a great distance away, and besides, it was still too early for the prying eyes of even the earliest riser. Feeling brave, he untied her bikini top with a flick of his hand, freeing her breasts. His breath caught in his throat as her chest came into view. He had seen them swathed in silk dresses and lace bras, but seeing them, feeling them, in their natural state was unworldly.
“Stop staring.” Holly blushed, starting to cover herself back up.
“No, don’t. I just can’t help myself. You’re so perfect.”
His mouth found hers again and he briefly wondered how he could get her up to bed without breaking the friction between them. But the spell was broken anyway when he heard movement above them.
“What’s that?” Holly hissed, looking around the water for her top.
Jackson held it out to her, helping her tie the back. “Breakfast,” he grumbled, following her up the ladder. He had never been so disappointed by a waterfront meal in his life.