Chapter Fifteen
What’s the plan, Becca?
She waited in the quiet circle of trees by the hot pools, a small candle confiscated from a buffet table the only source of light. The warm vapors from the hot springs and the song of the cicadas were her only company in the intimate space protected by the shadows of trees.
This was stupid.
He wasn’t coming.
He probably didn’t even hear her tell him about the note during her performance. Meet me by the secret hot springs tonight. There’s something we need to discuss.
What had she been thinking? Even if he read the note, chances were, he had no idea about the springs or what she was talking about.
“This is Calum Price,” Becca whispered softly to herself. “He’ll figure out a way to find this spot. The bigger question is”—Becca closed her eyes, tilted her head back, and drew a calming breath—“what happens if he does come?”
She paced, her bare feet landing softly on the spongey grass surrounding the springs. While spending hours rehearsing her ridiculous dance this afternoon, she’d come up with what she’d thought was a brilliant idea. She would invite Calum to a secluded location and seduce him.
As Grace.
Oh God. She placed both hands over her head—well, her wig—because her brain felt like it was going to explode.
Her plan wasn’t brilliant. It was terrible.
Now that she was here waiting in seclusion, she had time to contemplate things, and what became glaringly apparent was that she had no post-seduction strategy.
Would she reveal herself and confront him? Take a selfie of them together and blackmail him?
She had no clue. She hadn’t exactly been thinking clearly as she’d tried to learn a sexy dance routine while retaliation was on the brain. She stopped pacing, tilted her head, and listened. What was that?
A snapped twig?
The brush of leaves?
A footfall along a dirt path?
Oh God. Someone was coming. She secured the scarf she’d fashioned into a veil back over her lower face and waited in the shadows, her heart pounding with such force, the sound reverberated between her ears.
It was him.
The pounding became a waterfall of white noise, making her feel dizzy. Parts of her mutinous body reacted favorably to his presence: her nipples ached, her thighs and belly tightened, and she didn’t even want to consider what that throbbing was all about between her legs.
He thinks you’re Grace.
The thought was like a switch, turning her body off and giving her the courage to step out of the shadows to meet him. Stupid or not, she only had the one plan, and she was going to go through with it, damn it. She’d figure the rest out later.
“Hi,” he said.
She moved toward him, hips swinging in what she hoped was a sexy saunter with the scarves whispering against her thighs. Unfortunately, her tummy was so knotted with anger and apprehension her movements were less sway-like and more robot-like.
“What are we doing here?” He scanned the area. Was that wariness in his voice? No. His voice was husky because he was excited to be alone with her sister.
Bastard.
Becca couldn’t answer without giving herself away. Luckily, she and Grace were about the same height, and with her makeup and costume concealing her, he wouldn’t even know the difference between them.
Dick.
She placed one finger lightly against his lips in the universal sign of “no more talking, bub” and laid her other palm flat against his chest.
Damn him and his muscle-y chest. Her fingers slipped between two buttons on his shirt, needing to feel skin.
Calum covered both hands, pulling one away from his face and holding the other still against his chest. “What are you doing?”
Seriously? He knew exactly what she was doing. He’d been playing the seduction game with her for the past four days. He knew this game as well as she did. Tugging her hand free, she placed it on his belt and slid it lower, covering the bulge behind his fly with her palm and squeezing.
He was hard.
Of course he was.
But, not for her. Oh, no. For Grace.
Fuckwad.
From somewhere deep within her chest, she growled, a combination of hurt, confusion, and arousal all tied up together, and she thrashed against him, pounding his chest and kicking his shin with her bare foot, which wasn’t a good idea because his shin was harder than her toe.
Suddenly Cal had her pinned within his arms so that she couldn’t move. His lips were so close to her ear, she could feel the warmth of his labored breathing. This only made her more rabid. The only thing that felt good was to fight him, twisting within his arms and turning her head to sink her teeth into his shoulder, though the veil got in the way. She fought to get her hands free so she could scratch his eyes out…or rip his clothes off.
Damn it! She was so confused, she couldn’t decide which she wanted more.
“Stop,” Cal commanded, holding her firmly against his body.
She shook her head. There was no way she could stop because there was just too much turmoil pent-up inside of her: the desire to protect her sister versus the jealousy she’d always felt because no man ever saw her the way they saw Grace. All that was combined with her desire to both jump Cal and to hurt him. Mortally.
Cal got a firm grip of her upper arms and held her away from him. His hair was mussed, his face darkened by shadows. “I said stop.”
She shook her head and howled. Yep. She howled.
“Becca. I know it’s you.”
…
She stopped fighting him the moment he said her name, which allowed Cal to release her and tug the veil from her face.
“How did you know?” she asked softly.
“Are you kidding?”
“No.” Her voice was so soft. And sad. He’d done this to her, and he hated himself for it.
“I know how you move.” He leaned closer, taking a deep breath. “How you smell.” He gently lifted her hands and placed them on his chest, “The touch of your hands…” Then he drew her closer. “I know you, Becca.”
She crumpled into his arms, all the fight having gone out of her. He eased them both to the ground, right at the edge of the hot pool. Kicking off his shoes, he slid his feet into the warm water.
“If you knew it was me, why did you come?”
Good question. Cal had been wondering the very same thing the entire walk over here. He’d been at war with himself. On one hand, he wanted nothing more than to tell Becca the truth about everything. But he couldn’t. He couldn’t let her know that those pictures were out there. Who knew what she’d do?
Is that the only reason? his inner critique queried.
“No. I’m doing it for her.”
“What?” Becca asked. “What do you mean? Are you doing this for Grace?”
Shit! He’d not only mouthed his thoughts, he’d spoken them out loud. Nice one, Calum. Taking her hand, he twined their fingers together as they sat side by side, their feet in the warm water. “Not for Grace.”
“Then what?”
“It’s complicated.”
“I’m pretty good at complicated.”
That’s right. She did complication for a living. But in this case, what she didn’t know couldn’t hurt her. Distraction had worked with her before, so he went with that. “Do you remember asking me why I was here? Why I agreed to this whole pageant thing when you could clearly see I wasn’t interested?”
“Yes.”
Cal took a deep breath. “Well, the truth is, I’m here because of the resort. I’m buying it, and I have a plan for the real estate that the current management isn’t exactly in favor of.”
“What kind of plan?”
“To replace the resort with luxury condominiums.”
“So, why take part in the contest?”
“Because there’s a shareholder’s vote in two days, and I needed to distract the management while I either secure 51 percent of the shares or get all shareholders onside.”
“So, it’s a hostile takeover?”
“More like an acquisition that will be profitable for everyone.”
Becca shook her head. “Whatever. What does that have to do with me?”
Cal touched her cheek. She had the softest skin. Her eyes were larger than ever. “Don’t you know?”
She shook her head.
“You’re too distracting.”
“Me?” Becca tapped her chest in doubt.
“Yes, you. Things were moving so fast, I was missing stuff.” This was actually true. He’d let a panicked call from Nolan go to voicemail yesterday morning because he’d been too busy making love to Becca. Apparently, some shareholders were changing their mind because the resort’s stocks were rising as a result of the contest.
He should have seen it coming, but…
“Cal,” her voice was soft and tentative.
“Yes?”
“Do you think I don’t know what this is?”
Was she on to him? She was a smart woman. Did she realize he was talking about something else so he wouldn’t have to tell her the truth?
“This is a tropical holiday fling,” she said. “People do this on vacation. I’m a big girl. I can say good-bye when this is over, and we can go back to our real lives.” She patted his hand. “You can go back to your hostile takeovers. I’ll move on to my fellowship at Cornell, where I hope to unravel the mysteries of the universe.” She gestured to the space around them. “This whole place? The resort, the island. It isn’t real. It’s fantasy. They don’t call it Playground at Paradise Bay for nothing.”
Cal listened to her silently. For some reason, the indifference with which she viewed their “fling” did not sit well with him, even though it was exactly how he’d hoped she’d view it.
And yet he couldn’t let it go. “You seemed…hurt last night.” And ready to kill me, just now. “That doesn’t seem like the reaction of someone who is okay with a casual fling.”
“It’s because you lied.” She wet her lips. “And because you made me feel the way every man I’ve ever met has made me feel when Grace is around.”
“How’s that?”
“Like I’m invisible.”
“Oh Becca…I’m sorry.” It was the truest statement he’d made thus far. “I was only trying…to uncomplicate things.”
“By hurting my feelings?”
“It was a dick move. I know.” And the excuse was so inadequate. He wished he could tell her more.
“And what about Grace?”
“What about her?”
“Do you still have…feelings for her?”
“Well, there were a couple of times when I admired some of the things she said or did, but…”
Becca gasped.
“And then I realized that it wasn’t Grace saying or doing those things.” He smiled as he waited for understanding to dawn. “It was you.”
“What?”
“I saw the app on your phone when you dropped it after the mud wrestling. It was pretty simple to piece everything together after that. You fed Grace information during the contests to help her win.”
“Oh my God. And you’ve been playing along?”
He smiled. “Yeah, it was kind of fun knowing I was actually talking to you.”
Becca opened her mouth and then promptly closed it. Shaking her head in disbelief, she asked, “Does anyone else know?”
“No. I’m the only one.”
“So, I guess we both lied.”
“Looks like it.” Cal tugged at her wig. “So, why were you pretending to be Grace tonight?”
“She’s sick. Too many oysters.”
“Your sister can certainly pound the raw shellfish.”
Becca chuckled, twirling her toes, creating ripples across the surface of the water. “So, where do two con artists go from here?”
“Well,” Calum said, turning toward her and carefully peeling the wig from her head. “How about we start over?”
She ran fingers through her flattened hair. “No more lies?”
“No more lies.”
What was wrong with him? He should have been keeping up the charade and the lies. The goal was to create distance from this woman, not to be starting over with her. The problem was, when he was with her, sanity abandoned him. He missed phone calls, he admitted the truth about himself, and he did stupid, irrational things.
But right now he didn’t care about any of that. The only important thing was making it up to her.
And those lips were calling his name.
Cal bent his head because the need to taste the soft smile that played at the corners of her mouth overpowered him. He licked along the seam of her lips until she opened, her tongue welcoming him inside like the prodigal son come home.
This.
This was why he forgot himself when he was around her. The warmth of her. The way she gave all of herself to him. How good and honest she was.
Though she’d been less than honest this evening, inviting him here, pretending to be Grace.
“I know we said we were starting over, but I have to know…” His hand slid up beneath the silky scarves that barely covered her thighs. “Are you going to tell me what your plan was for bringing me out here tonight?”
“How about you figure it out for yourself.” She covered his hand and eased it up her thigh. Inch by glorious inch. Higher and higher until he could feel the heat of her core against the back of his knuckles. A little higher, and his fingers searched for the band of her panty leg.
There was nothing there.
“Jesus.” He explored higher, only to find deliciously bare skin. He couldn’t stop himself from delving into the wonderful familiarity of her body. “You were going to seduce me?” He murmured against her neck. Incredulous.
“Not the best plan, I admit. But, I wasn’t exactly thinking clearly.”
“I am so sorry I hurt you. I should never have lied about having feelings for your sister.” Truer words had never been spoken. “It was stupid.”
She tilted her face up to his. “I accept your apology. Now, how about you shut up and kiss me?”
He gently touched his lips to hers and then whispered against them, “How about you take off the rest of this costume so I can apologize to you properly.”
“How about you take it off for me.”
“It would be my pleasure.” He fingered the silk scarves still covering her thighs, and his brain was flooded with wicked ways in which to use them. But first, her sequined bra. Reaching behind her, he undid the clasps and pulled it away from her breasts. Such lovely breasts she had. Big enough to fill his hands—and his mouth—with tempting pink nipples that were erect, even in the warmth of the night air. He needed to suck on those tasty buds, and he needed to do that right now.
Becca cried out and arched her chest toward him as her fingers curled into his hair. Oh, she tasted so good. While he made love to her tits, licking around her flesh, sucking on her nipples, keeping them tight and hard, his hands worked a scarf free of her belt. Pulling away, he drew the silk up her bare body, teasing her flesh with the weightless material, gliding it over her breasts and around her neck and back down to where her hands were lying in her lap. With a gentleness that was in direct contrast to the severity of his throbbing erection, he twined the silk around her wrists.
“What are you…?” She didn’t finish because her sentence got caught in her throat. She sucked in a breath when it became clear he was binding her. “Cal…” The excited, needy sound of his name stiffened his cock with desire.
Ripping another scarf from her belt, he placed this one over her eyes, tying a knot behind her head.
“Oh.”
She was so fucking sexy, gazing blindly up at him. Calum could barely stand it and found himself on the edge of control.
With haste, he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders. In record time, he was out of his shorts, naked, and easing into the pool. The warm water caressed his skin like a lover and fired his desire to new heights. He moved in front of Becca, fitting himself between her legs where they dangled in the water. Starting at her ankles, he slid wet hands up the insides of her calves, her knees, her thighs, drawing damp circles on her warm skin. She opened her legs, encouraging him to slide his hands higher.
There were only a few scarves left tucked into the belt about her waist. One of them—a yellow scarf—covered her mound, but because it was wet, it was translucent, giving him a view of every bare bit of her.
He stroked softly over the scarf. Was the touch of his fingers muted by the scarf? He didn’t think so, based on the way she wriggled her bottom against the ground.
“Lie back.”
“My hands are tied.”
“I’ll help.” He took her bound hands and held them taut as he slowly lowered her so that she lay on the grass.
“I feel so…exposed,” she said.
Cal had been about to lower his mouth to the creamy skin of her thigh, but the idea of exposing Becca—in the way Eddie had intended—gave him pause.
When he came here tonight, he’d had no intention of making love to Becca. In fact, he hadn’t even brought condoms. He’d also made sure he wasn’t followed, because any interaction between himself and Becca—sexual or not—was private. He knew he shouldn’t be here, doing what he was about to do to her…
He gazed down at her body. Exposed. For him.
Fuck.
He couldn’t help himself. He needed her in a way that didn’t make sense but was true nonetheless. Becca Evans was his. His alone.
If Eddied dared to expose her to the world, he’d—fuck. He didn’t know what he’d do, but he would protect her without having to lie to her.
“Cal?” Becca craned her neck.
“Lie back, baby.”
He lowered his head and gave in to the need to kiss and taste her skin, to run his mouth up her soft flesh, catching water droplets on his tongue.
Delicious.
There was only one problem. Even though the location was secluded, Becca’s moans could be heard above the song of the cicadas.
“Becca?” He lifted his head, and even though she was blindfolded, she pointed her face in his direction. “If you can’t keep quiet, I’m going to have to use a scarf”—he slipped another one from her belt—“to cover your mouth.”