Книга - Waking Up With The Boss

Waking Up With The Boss
Sheri WhiteFeather


A weekend of passion with the boss leads to a wakeup call—a positive pregnancy test!When it comes to her billionaire boss, Carol Lawrence has always been by the books. But that doesn’t mean she hasn’t noticed Jake Waters’s sex appeal. To say she’s secretly bowled over by his Native American good looks and savvy swagger is putting it mildly. So when he asks her to be his plus one to a star-studded island party, she says yes. But soon the convenient arrangement turns into a whirlwind affair with inconvenient consequences: she’s pregnant. Will the wedding bell toll for Carol—with a man who runs from commitment at all costs?







She approached him and reached out to touch his scar, running her index finger along the pale line.

She was painstakingly gentle, and it made him want to kiss her. They were standing so close he could’ve leaned forward and captured her mouth with his. But he didn’t take the liberty. They stared at each other instead, steeped in a strange kind of intimacy.

“I’m glad you survived the accident,” Carol said, smoothing his hair across his brow.

“So am I.” But before things got unbearably awkward, Jake stepped back, trying to restrain the tenderness between them. “After the crash, I used to pray to Uncta, a deity from Choctaw mythology who steals fire from the sun. I was the only one who was rescued from the car before it went up in flames.”

“Did you think Uncta had saved you?”

“No, but I wanted to steal fire, too. To have his powers.”

But that wasn’t going to help Jake now. He’d already jumped straight from the frying pan and into the flame, feeling things for Carol that he wished he didn’t feel. He still wanted to kiss her, as hot and passionately as he could.

* * *

Waking up with the Boss is part of the Billionaire Brothers Club trilogy— Three foster brothers grow up, get rich … and find the perfect woman.




Waking Up with the Boss

Sheri WhiteFeather







www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


SHERI WHITEFEATHER is an award-winning, bestselling author. She writes a variety of romance novels for Mills & Boon and is known for incorporating Native American elements into her stories. She has two grown children who are tribally enrolled members of the Muscogee Creek Nation. She lives in California and enjoys shopping in vintage stores and visiting art galleries and museums. Sheri loves to hear from her readers at www.sheriwhitefeather.com (http://www.sheriwhitefeather.com).


Contents

Cover (#u0856927d-a694-5920-bda6-25cc45634067)

Introduction (#uc2587bd1-6fbf-5a82-adc7-84aecc531e6f)

Title Page (#u4667864b-16b1-5729-950f-4a56a5a40980)

About the Author (#u30686a01-0f5b-59e7-890d-462475040863)

One (#ulink_930110a5-3a20-5fd2-9633-28bcabe43f8e)

Two (#ulink_c4ebf746-9ee6-5eb3-b63a-fc17df6dd017)

Three (#ulink_1a545c0c-725b-5bc8-8c20-1605ea581b00)

Four (#ulink_c1b7c16c-0c3e-5ba2-a092-be3e80aeb617)

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Nine (#litres_trial_promo)

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Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)

Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)

Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Fourteen (#litres_trial_promo)

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


One (#ulink_cf89e10b-0b29-5d1d-9a07-903921e49217)

Carol Lawrence stood in her boss’s luxurious high-rise office, with a zillion things running through her mind. Being Jake Waters’s personal assistant was a demanding job, with most of her duties centered on organizing his social life. No doubt about it, the jet-setting real estate mogul kept her on her toes. Not only did he travel for work, purchasing properties all over the globe, he was the consummate party boy, dashing off to exotic locations with models and actresses and whoever else struck his rich-guy fancy.

Jake sat on the corner of his desk and flung his jacket over his unused chair. As always, his shirtsleeves were rolled up, exposing the colorful tattoos on his arms, and his dark brown hair was in sexy disarray. With his disheveled good looks and need for speed, he reminded her of James Dean, except that Jake was half-Choctaw, his mixed-blood heritage lending his features an uncommon beauty.

He certainly wasn’t the type of man she should be attracted to. He was too wild for a practical girl like her. Carol spent her free time on a nice, quiet quilting hobby, whereas Jake raced sports cars as his outlet. To her that seemed like an especially reckless thing for him to do, given that his entire family had been killed in a car crash, sending him into foster care as a child. Carol had also lost her family and become a foster kid, as well. But they didn’t know each other back then, and the tragedies they’d both suffered didn’t make for good bedfellows.

Still, she often wondered what taming a man like Jake would involve. Yeah, right. If the glamorous beauties he dated couldn’t pin him down, then a simple gal with tidy blond hair and a sensible nature would never fit the bill. Jake was a thirty-one-year-old billionaire who’d even made some crazy internet “Beefcake Bachelor” list as one of the sexiest single men in Southern California. Women chased him with a vengeance. Of course, some of them kept trying to fix him, with the assumption that he was damaged from the loss of his family, using his free-spirited lifestyle to hide the pain. Carol didn’t doubt that was true. She knew the anguish that being orphaned could cause. But her coping mechanism was much gentler than his. Someday she longed to get married and have children of her own, recapturing the home and hearth she’d lost.

Jake glanced up and caught her gaze, and a fluttery sensation erupted in her stomach, something that happened far too often when she was in his presence.

Determined to maintain her composure, Carol focused on her job. “So,” she said, “are you going to attend Lena’s birthday celebration?” Lena was a pop star with a penchant for partying who ran in the same live-for-the-moment circle as Jake.

“Damn straight I’m going to go. She’s my bud. I wouldn’t miss her thirtieth bash.” He laughed a little. “She’ll probably be half-naked and dancing on tabletops.”

“No doubt.” Lena was known for her antics. Carol was the same age as Lena, but she couldn’t imagine behaving that way. “Who will be attending the party with you?”

“Now that’s where I’m having a bit of a problem. I don’t have a date.”

“I thought you were seeing Susanne Monroe.” A long, leggy brunette who was recently divorced from a famous baseball player. Carol had seen her strutting around the office a few times in her tight-as-sin dresses, her stilettos clicking as she walked.

“We’re not together anymore.”

It was over already? “Who ended it?”

“She did.” He shrugged off the breakup. “But I was just a rebound for her, anyway.”

Carol shook her head, then glanced out the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows, where a view of Wilshire Boulevard, with its busy Los Angeles cityscape, was spread out before them. She’d worked for Jake for two years, but she still hadn’t gotten used to the parade of women who came in and out of his life.

She turned back to face him. “I’m sure you’ll find a date for Lena’s soiree. But for now, do you want me to RSVP for you and a plus-one? And notify your pilot to be on standby for that weekend?” The party was being held on a private island in the southeastern Caribbean Sea. Lena was pulling out all the stops, away from the prying eyes of the paparazzi.

“Yeah. Thanks. It’s a couples-only theme, so I’m going to have to bring someone. Lena’s latest song is called ‘Couples Only,’ and she always creates parties around her songs.” Jake paused, then looked at Carol as if he’d just solved a strange little puzzle. “Here’s an idea. You can be my plus-one. That would save me the trouble of finding another companion, and it would give you a great getaway.”

Oh, my God. Carol white-knuckled her iPad, holding it against her chest. He was suggesting that she fly off to a tropical island to drink and dance and be merry with him? Sure, she traveled with him when it was necessary, but she’d never been expected to fill in as one of his dates. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am. Or I wouldn’t have said it.”

“But I’m not part of your crowd. I wouldn’t fit in.”

“Yes, you would. You already know a lot of them.”

“I know them in a professional sense.”

“So now you can socialize with them, too.”

The nervous sensation in her stomach swirled. “I can’t.” There was no way she could spend a weekend with Jake and his friends. “And with you being my employer, it wouldn’t be proper.”

“Really, Carol? You’re going to use that as an excuse? I’m not proposing that we have a mad, passionate affair. The couples-only theme doesn’t mean that we have to be a real couple. It’s just a party.”

“On a private island,” she defended herself. “And I didn’t think you were proposing anything.” She knew better than to assume he was interested in her, and even if by some off chance he was, she wasn’t foolish enough to jeopardize her job over it. “It doesn’t seem right for us to go away together. It would be different if it was a business trip.”

“So we’ll call it a business trip.”

Who was he trying to kid? “A party hosted by Lena Kent is more like monkey business.”

He laughed. “That’s true. But Lena isn’t that bad. She donates a lot of money to my charity.”

“I know how generous she is.” Carol also knew how important the nonprofit organization he and his foster brothers had founded was to him. “But this isn’t a charity gig. It’s one of her nutty parties.”

“Yeah, but just think of what a smashing time you’ll have, sipping the most expensive champagne in the world and eating the most delicious food imaginable. Not to mention lounging around in your bathing suit, with the sea at your beck and call. We’ll probably go crabbing, too. I’ll bet you’ve never done that before.” He stood, coming to his full height. “This would give you the opportunity to expand your horizons and experience new things. It’s crazy how reluctant you are to let down your guard and have a good time.”

“I’m not afraid of enjoying myself.” She wasn’t the bore he was making her out to be. “I hang out with my girlfriends. I haven’t had a boyfriend in a while, but I go on online dates.” So far none of them had worked out, but she was still trying to meet someone. “I’m just cautious, that’s all.”

“Of what? People like me? Come on, Miss Proper Employee, spend a recreational weekend with your big, bad boss and his spoiled band of misfits.”

“Are you actually daring me?”

“Hell, yes.” He poured on the charm, being as insistent as ever. “So what do you say? Are you game?”

She wished that his foster brothers were going to be there. She felt safe around Garrett and Max, with how cautious they always seemed, preferring to lead more private lives. They’d grown up with Jake in the same foster home and remained as close to him as anyone could be. But they didn’t socialize with Jake’s party crowd.

He moved forward and put his hands on her shoulders. “Come on, just do it. Jump headfirst and see where you land.”

Carol squeezed her eyes shut, as if she really were diving off a cliff. One...two...three. She counted the breaths that left her lungs, then opened her eyes and looked straight into his, intending to decline the invitation. But somewhere in the insanity of the moment, of standing just inches from him, of absorbing the warmth of his touch, she heard herself say, “Okay, I’ll do it. I’ll go with you.”

“That’s my girl.” Jake removed his hands from her shoulders and stepped back, leaving a silent gap between them.

Heaven help her. Had she actually agreed to this?

A sense of panic hit her, in more ways than one. Not only was she going to be stranded on a tropical island with her big, bad boss and his spoiled band of misfits, she was going to have to fuss over her clothes.

“I have no idea what I’m supposed to wear to the party,” she said. She wore professional ensembles to work and comfy threads on her days off, but this was a whole other ball game.

He waved away her concern. “Just call Millie and have her bring a bunch of stuff to your house. Then pick whatever you want and have her bill me for it.”

Millie was his stylist, a woman who also worked with celebrity clients. “You don’t have to do that.”

“I want to. Besides, you wouldn’t be able to afford this type of couture on your own.” He shot her a playful grin. “I’d have to give you a ridiculously huge raise.”

She returned his smile. “Heaven forbid.” In actuality, he already paid her a generous salary. But if he said the clothes were out of her price range, then she believed him. “I’ll call her later today and see what her schedule is like.” The party was less than a month away, and Carol wanted to be prepared. She never did anything last minute. “At least Millie already knows that I’m not a model or actress or Beverly Hills type. I could never wear anything straight off the runway. I have too much meat on my bones.”

Automatically, his gaze traveled the length of her. “There’s nothing wrong with having curves.”

She could have kicked herself for drawing his attention to her shape. “I didn’t mean it that way.” She’d already learned to accept her fuller figure and stop trying to be skinnier than her body type allowed.

He kept checking her out, not overtly, but still looking, still being a guy. “Be sure to tell Millie to include beachwear,” he said. “Just so you’ll have a complete weekend wardrobe.”

“That’s fine.” At this point, Carol wanted to hightail it out of his office. But she couldn’t run off without wrapping things up. She hurriedly asked, “What sort of accommodations do they have on the island?”

“It’s a mansion that Lena is renting. There are caretakers who live on the property, but she’ll be hiring a full staff to run it like a hotel while we’re there. When you RSVP, make sure to let her assistant know that we need two rooms. Otherwise, he’ll assume that my plus-one will be staying with me.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll take care of it.” After a beat of anxious energy, she said, “I better get back to work.”

“You are working.”

“I meant on something other than the arrangements for Lena’s party. You have other commitments besides that.” His calendar was filled with business dinners and charity events and city council meetings.

“I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re good at keeping me organized.”

“I’m just doing my job.” But even so, this discussion seemed oddly personal. She hoped that she wasn’t making a mistake by going to the Caribbean with him. How was she going sit beside him on the beach, wearing nothing but a swimsuit?

Just as she thought about the part of their trip when they’d be scantily clad, the sun shifted in the sky and the light from the windows spilled into the room, brighter than before.

He stood there for a moment, in the afternoon glare, looking as gorgeous as ever, before he picked up the remote from his desk and closed the blinds.

“I’ll talk to you later,” she said, telling herself not to worry, even if she could feel him watching her, much too closely, as she walked out the door.

* * *

Jake pulled his Gullwing Mercedes coupe, one of the many classic sports cars in his collection, into a guest parking spot at Carol’s apartment. He didn’t believe in letting his cars sit around, all pretty and polished and untouched. It didn’t matter how rare or pricey they were, he drove the hell out of them. He treated women with the same reverence and vigor. But Carol wasn’t his lover, and he had no business being here. Still, he’d decided to stop by because he knew that she was meeting with the stylist today. He figured the appointment was over by now. Of course, he’d timed it that way on purpose. He was curious to see what Carol had chosen.

He was curious about all sorts of things about her. Jake had been having some crazy fantasies about his assistant.

Carol was a fascinating woman, with a sinful body and modest values. An enigma, if there ever was one. And damn if her good-girl nature didn’t turn him on. It was weird, too, because proper girls weren’t his usual type. He’d never had the urge to pull someone into the fray, not the way he was doing with her.

Maybe it was because they shared similar backgrounds. Maybe that was why he was daring her to let down her guard and have a good time. Whatever the reason, he needed to curb his desire. He couldn’t seduce her when they were on their trip. He absolutely, positively couldn’t, no matter how tempting the thought was. Jake knew better than to cross that line with a woman who worked for him. Besides, she prided herself on being well-behaved and corrupting her would be wrong.

He glanced toward Carol’s apartment. He’d never actually been inside her place before; he didn’t make a habit of visiting his employees at their homes. He did own this building, though. It was one of his favorite properties. He gave her a discount on the rent, a perk that came with her job. But regardless of the deal they’d worked out, he wasn’t her landlord, at least not directly. A management company ran the day-to-day operations and collected the rent.

Jake got out of the car and strode to Carol’s door. She lived in a unit on the ground floor surrounded by foliage. Built in the 1930s, the complex boasted Spanish-style architecture and was within walking distance to restaurants, shopping centers and farmers’ markets.

He rang the bell, and she answered the summons with a surprised expression.

“Jake? What are you doing here?”

“I just thought I’d check on how the fashion meeting unfolded.” He gestured jokingly to his ensemble. “Not that I’m the epitome of style today.” He was attired in a plain white T-shirt, jeans and scuffed leather boots. “These are snazzy, though.” He removed his sunglasses. They were the pair she’d given him last Christmas, similar to the kind James Dean used to wear. They were even trademarked with the actor’s name.

She looked him over. “In that getup, you really could be him.”

“Oh, sure.” He mocked the comparison, even if he was flattered by it. “Maybe I should get a Porsche like his, the one he smashed himself up in.”

She sucked in her breath, as if the wind had just been knocked out of her. “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

“I was just goofing around.” And being stupid, he supposed. He should’ve known that she wouldn’t think his comment was funny. “It was a great car, a 550 Spyder that he was driving on his way to a race. That’s a pretty good reason for me to get one.”

She stared at him, unmoving, unblinking. “I’d prefer that you didn’t.”

He leaned against the doorjamb, trying to ease the tension.

“Are you going to invite me in to see your clothes?” For now, she was wearing shorts and a loose-fitting khaki shirt, with her strawberry blond hair fastened into a ponytail at her nape. He imagined undoing the clip and running his hands through it. She had the silkiest-looking hair, with each piece always falling into place. Not that he should be thinking about messing up her hair. He was supposed to be keeping those types of thoughts in check.

“Yes, come on in.” She stepped back to allow him entrance. The brightly lit interior featured hardwood floors and attractive window treatments. She’d decorated with art deco furnishings from the era of the building, mixed with crafty doodads. He noticed a patchwork quilt draped over the sofa. He knew she liked to sew. Sometimes she gave the quilts she made to the other women in the office, for birthdays and whatnot.

“You’ve done a nice job with the place,” he said.

“Thank you.” She had yet to relax. She still seemed bothered by what he’d said earlier.

Now he wished he could take it back. Not his interest in the Porsche, but the way he’d joked about it. He hooked his sunglasses into the V of his shirt, and she frowned at him.

“Do you race cars because you have a death wish?” she asked, rather pointedly.

Cripes, he thought. She had it all wrong. “I do it to feel alive.” Everything he did was for that reason. “I don’t want to look back and regret anything.”

“I hope that’s the case.”

“Believe me, it is.” After waiting for the smoke to clear, he gestured to the quilt. “When I was a kid, we had one sort of like that hanging on our living room wall that my paternal grandmother made.”

Carol inched closer to him. “You did?”

He nodded. “She died before I was born, but the design was associated with her clan.”

“Do you still have it, tucked away somewhere?”

He shook his head. “It disappeared when I went into foster care. It was sold, I suppose. Or given away, or whatever else happened to my family’s belongings.” He glanced at the fireplace mantel, where he spotted a framed photograph of what he assumed was her family: three towheaded girls and a forty-something mom and dad, posing in a park.

He picked up the picture and quietly asked, “Are you in this?”

“Yes,” she replied, just as softly. “I’m the older sister. I was about ten there.”

He studied the image. Everyone looked happy. Normal. Like his family had been. But he didn’t keep photos around. He couldn’t bear to see them every day.

Jake was lucky that he’d bonded with Garrett and Max. They’d been a trio of troubled boys in foster care who’d formed a pact, vowing to get powerfully rich and help one another along the way. The goal had ultimately allowed them to become the successful men they were today. Without Garrett and Max, Jake would’ve wanted to die, for sure.

He wondered if anyone had helped Carol get through her grief or if she’d done it on her own. They rarely talked about their pasts. Jake didn’t like revisiting old ghosts, his or anyone else’s, but he was doing it with her now.

“It’s a nice picture,” he said, placing it back on the mantel. “It must have been a good day.”

“It definitely was. It was taken at my dad’s company picnic.” Her voice remained soft, loving. “We all had a great time that day, especially my sisters. They were only a year apart and were really close. Sometimes people mistook them for twins, and they always got a kick out of that.”

“I had two sisters, too. Only, they were older. I was their pesky little brother.”

Her light green eyes locked on to his. “How old were you when...?”

“Twelve. How old were you?”

She let out her breath. “Eleven.”

His heart dropped to his stomach. He knew that her family had died from carbon monoxide poisoning from a faulty appliance in their home. But he didn’t know the details. “How did you survive when the rest of them didn’t?”

“I wasn’t there. I was at a neighbor’s house. It was my first slumber party. I was younger than some of the other girls, so my parents were hesitant to let me go, but I begged them, so they gave in.” She breathed a little deeper. “Not being home that night saved my life.”

“It was different for me. I was in the car when it crashed. The impact was fast, brutally quick, but I remember it in slow motion.” It had been like an out of body experience that never ended. “I have a scar.” He pushed back the pieces of hair that fell across his forehead. “Here, just below my hairline. It was noticeable when I was young, but it’s faded over the years.”

She approached him and reached out to touch the scar, running her index finger along the pale line. She was painstakingly gentle, and it made him want to kiss her. They were standing so close he could’ve leaned forward and captured her mouth with his. But he didn’t take the liberty. They stared at each other instead, steeped in a strange kind of intimacy.

“I’m glad you survived the accident,” Carol said, smoothing his hair across his brow.

“So am I.” But before things got unbearably awkward, Jake stepped back, trying to restrain the tenderness between them. “After the crash, I used to pray to Uncta, a deity from Choctaw mythology who steals fire from the sun. I was the only one who was rescued from the car before it went up in flames.”

“Did you think Uncta had saved you?”

“No, but I wanted to steal fire, too. To have his powers.”

But that wasn’t going to help Jake now. He’d already jumped straight from the frying pan and into the flame, feeling things for Carol that he wished he didn’t feel. He still wanted to kiss her, as passionately as he could.


Two (#ulink_03b32185-e734-5495-9bad-94c8fe63ba71)

Carol wondered what had gotten into her, touching Jake the way she had. She shouldn’t have traced his scar or tried to subdue the unruly strands of his hair. Those types of things were reserved for lovers, not your boss.

But she wasn’t going to apologize. That would only draw attention to what she’d done. She could already feel the discomfort it had caused.

Breaking the silence, she said, “I’ll go get my new clothes so you can see them.” It was the purpose of his visit, after all. But she wasn’t going to offer to model them for him. That would be way too weird.

Carol dashed into her room and grabbed the garments.

She returned to the living room and laid them out on her couch. She went back for the accessories, and then lined them up on the coffee table.

“That’s a cool bounty,” he said.

Yes, it was, with at least two different outfits per day, along with shoes, purses and beach bags to match. “I have you to thank for it.”

“As long as you’re happy with everything.” He reached for a hanger with a flowing fabric draped around it. “What’s this?”

“That’s my party dress. It’s a sarong.” It was made from the finest silk in the world, decorated with a hand-painted design and trimmed in shiny glass beads.

“The material is beautiful, but how does it work?”

“There are lots of different ways to wrap it. Millie showed me how she thinks it will best suit me. This goes with it.” She grabbed a big sheer scarf and swished it back and forth. “It’s called a body veil. It goes around the dress for a fluttery effect.”

“A body veil.” He spoke softly. “That even sounds pretty.”

She forged ahead. “Both pieces are from a Brazilian designer who just exploded onto the scene.” She’d already memorized his name in case anyone at the party asked who she was wearing. “Millie said that they don’t use beach towels in Rio. Instead, they lay a sarong in the sand and the women use them as cover-ups, too. But you probably already know that since you go there every year for Carnival.”

Before she envisioned him doing wicked things in the streets of Rio, she quickly added, “My outfit was created as an evening gown and is much fancier than the sarongs they use at the beach. It’s from the designer’s most recent collection and hasn’t even hit the stores yet. So I was wrong about not wearing something straight off the runway.”

Jake put down the dress, treating it gently. “It has a romantic quality.”

She supposed it did, especially with the inclusion of the body veil, but dang if she could come up with an appropriate response.

Was Jake as attracted to her as she was to him? Was that even possible? It was sure starting to feel like it.

He was now eyeing her new bikini. It wasn’t an itty-bitty, stringy thing, but the design was nonetheless sexy. Millie had talked her into it, saying that the low-cut top and high-waist bottoms showed off her curves. Thankfully, Carol already had a bit of a tan from hanging out at the pool. It wasn’t summer yet. It was still spring, when the Southern California weather varied from day to day, so sometimes she cheated and used a tanning bed at the salon, preparing for the hotter months ahead. However, she was cautious about not overdoing any type of UV exposure. She never did anything in excess.

Jake did, though. He was the king of indulgences. She couldn’t imagine two people being more opposite, aside from the loss of their families, which had been their tie from the beginning. She’d first met him when she’d applied for a job at his Caring for Fosters Foundation, the organization he, Garrett and Max had created that provided financial and emotional support to foster children. She hadn’t gotten the job, as her experience in nonprofits was limited. But Jake had made it up to her, offering to hire her as his personal assistant, a position that was also up for grabs at the time. And now, here she was, two years later, trapped in feelings she couldn’t quite define.

“I should put everything back,” she said. She wanted that bathing suit out of sight, out of mind. Which was foolish, she knew, considering that eventually he was going to see her in it.

“I can help.”

“That’s okay, you don’t have to.”

“Really, I don’t mind.”

“All right.” Carol gave in. Otherwise, letting him handle her belongings might seem like a bigger deal than it was, even if it was making her nervous.

With both of their arms full, he followed her down the hall. They entered her room, and she placed her load on the bed.

He followed suit, then said, “It’s girlie in here.”

“I guess it is, to some degree.” Along with textured wood furnishings, the decor consisted of dried flowers, lacy pillows and a tufted headboard upholstered in blue velvet. “But what can I say?” She made a goofy joke. “I hit like a girl, too. So you better watch out.”

He laughed. “There’s no such thing as hitting like a girl. My sisters used to pummel the crap out of me. But most of the time, I had it coming.”

She teased him. “You were a troublemaker even then?”

“I used to embarrass them in front of their dates, telling the guys stupid things about them.”

She kept up the banter. “Remind me not to have you around when I go on my next date.”

His expression sobered. “I wouldn’t do that to you, Carol. I’m not a kid anymore.”

Boy, didn’t she know it. He was about as grown-up as a man could get, tall and strong, with the deepest, darkest brown eyes. When he smiled, they twinkled, but when he was being serious, like now, those eyes could pierce a part of your soul.

Anxious to get him out of her room and back to neutral ground, she said, “I never even offered you anything.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Anything?”

“A refreshment.” She knew that he favored seltzer water, with ice and a twist of lemon. She did, too, a habit she’d picked up from him.

“A refreshment? Who says things like that?” A smile returned to his face. “Except for those old TV sitcom housewives. All you need is a ruffled apron to complete the picture.”

“Smarty.” She shrugged it off. “Maybe I was born in the wrong era.”

“Maybe I was, too. Only, I would be a greaser.” He slipped on his sunglasses, peering at her from beneath the tinted glass like a rabble-rouser. “Me and my fast cars.”

She’d never been to one of his races, but she’d gotten used to knowing where he went, who he socialized with, even which women he took to bed.

Was it any wonder she was antsy about him being in her room? She’d spent far too much time beneath her covers thinking about the hot and sexy things his lovers sometimes said about him. One overzealous starlet had even blogged about her naughty escapades with him. Of course, he wasn’t the only playboy who’d rung this woman’s bell or who’d been mentioned in the blog. But he was the only one Carol cared about.

“So, do you want something to drink?” she asked.

He removed the glasses. “Sure.”

They went into the kitchen, and she poured the drinks. When they returned to the living room, she was still fighting her wayward thoughts.

She just hoped that she was able to relax and enjoy herself on their trip, without her fantasies going wild. Because there was nothing tame about the battle raging inside her or how badly she needed to contain it.

* * *

Time went by in a busy blur, and now Jake was sitting beside Carol on his private jet, en route to the Caribbean. Normally he slept on long flights, shutting out the boredom, but he was wide-awake on this journey, fascinated by every move his traveling companion made.

With her reddish blond hair falling against her summer-white blouse, she looked soft and pretty, framed by the intermittent clouds billowing past her window. She’d been peering out the glass for a while, gazing at the ocean.

Finally, she turned back to him. She wasn’t a frantic flyer. But she wasn’t as comfortable in the air as he was, either. The aircraft was too big to land on the private island where they were going, so they’d be landing on another island, then taking a helicopter to their final destination.

“I researched the Caribbean,” she said.

“You did?” He leaned a little closer, getting a deeper whiff of the fragrance she wore. It smelled crisp and fresh, like grapefruit, mixed with summer greens. “For what kind of information?”

“All kinds.” She exaggerated a shiver. “You should have seen the snakes and spiders and scorpions I uncovered. Luckily our island doesn’t have any of those things, at least not poisonous ones. No crocodiles, either.”

He shifted in his seat. “Did you think Lena would choose a location with all that?”

“I just wanted to be sure. I didn’t want to get bitten by some scary creature.”

If he could get away with sinking his teeth into her, he would do it. “We’re going to be fine.”

“I packed a first-aid kit, just in case. We still need to watch out for jellyfish and things like that.”

The only safety precaution Jake ever packed was condoms. Of course he’d skipped them this trip since it wasn’t going to be a romantic adventure. Then again, he probably had some stored away in the side zipper compartment of his luggage, where he normally kept them. But none of that mattered since he and Carol weren’t going to be together. Nor should he even be thinking about it.

“Speaking of scary creatures,” she said.

He snapped back to attention. “What?”

“You have lots of strange beings on you.”

He glanced down. Clearly she was talking about his tattoos.

She gestured to his right arm, which was the one closest to her. “What’s the spidery-looking thing in the middle?”

“That’s a depiction of Uncta.”

“The deity who steals fire?”

Jake nodded. “And he is a spider, of sorts. He was able to appear in both human form and as a giant bronze spider. In his human form, he would entertain in his big fancy lair and offer advice to his guests. He told prophecies, too.”

She gave Uncta’s image a tentative touch, using the very tips of her nails. “I wonder what advice he would give you.” She followed the lines of the drawing. “Or prophecies.”

“I don’t know.” Jake wished her fingers on his flesh didn’t feel so damned good. He imagined her clawing his back with those neatly manicured nails.

She moved on to another one of his tattoos: a beautiful young woman draped in a white gown, her long black hair blowing in the wind. “Is she a deity, too?”

“Yes.” He tried to focus on his answer, instead of how Carol was making him feel. “Her father is the god of the sun and her mother is the goddess of the moon.”

“And what’s her specialty?”

“She introduced corn to the people, providing the first seeds that led to the first harvest. Even today, she still wanders through cornfields, blessing the crops, looking like an angel from above. Or so the legend goes.”

“And who is this?” Another question. Another touch.

One by one, he explained who each of the deities on his arms were. The two gigantic birds that created lightning and thunder. The hunting god who taught wolves how to howl. The female ruler of the swamplands who provided vegetation that was safe to use for medicine. Overall, he had ten mythical beings tattooed on his body, each with their own purpose. Carol seemed particularly fascinated with the human grasshopper goddess who ruled a subterranean world known as an earth-womb.

“She’s the mother of the unliving,” Jake said. “Not the dead, but the spirits who are waiting to be born.”

“What’s her name?”

“Eskeilay.”

Carol repeated it, using the same rhythmic inflection he’d used. Then she asked, “Do you think your future children are with her, waiting to emerge?”

Jake shot her an incredulous look. “Seriously? Can you see me being a dad? There’s no way I’m ever having kids.”

“I suppose it was a silly question.” She smiled like an imp. “But it seems like a waste of Eskeilay’s powers, to just sit there on your arm in her bendy grasshopper pose, with her antennae poking out of her head, with no little Jacob Waters babies floating around.”

“Listen to you, being funny.” He rubbed the spot where Eskeilay was. It was starting to tingle, almost as if the goddess was coming to life. “It wasn’t like that in the beginning. The first spirits waiting to be born weren’t babies. They were just people, living in Eskeilay’s world. But when it got too overcrowded, they evacuated, and on their way to earth, they accidentally trampled some grasshoppers, including Eskeilay’s own mother. Needless to say, she was pissed. So the opening to earth was blocked, and the rest of the people trapped underground were turned into ants.”

“Oh, that’s just great. Now whenever I see an ant, I’m going to think of that.”

“Sorry. But you know how mythology is. Something disturbing always happens. But in this case, it also explains how ants came to be and why they live in holes in the ground,” he explained. “These stories are based on what I was told. There are other Choctaw myths that don’t coincide with what I was taught. But that’s common with folklore. Stories are apt to change, depending on who tells them, and my dad liked to put his own spin on them. Sometimes my mom even got in on it, adding little details.” He paused in remembrance. “Mom was a blue-eyed blonde with French and English ancestry, but she used to joke around and say that was she part Choctaw. Or that she had been for nine months when she was pregnant with us kids. And that’s what gave her the right to horn in on those stories.”

Carol smiled. “That’s cute.”

“My dad thought so, too. They were this ridiculously happy couple. I used to think I was lucky because they didn’t scream and fight like some of my friends’ parents. Or they weren’t getting divorced or whatever. Then they ended up gone in the worst possible way.”

“I know just how you feel.” She fell silent, her gaze locking on to his. Then she said, “Except that I want to get married and have children someday. That’s really important to me.”

“I figured as much.” She struck him as the wifely sort. “You seem like you need all that homeyness. But I don’t. For me, it’s easier to be unencumbered.”

“Yes, I can tell.”

He glanced away, his thoughts slipping back in time once again. “My sisters used to talk about the kinds of weddings they wanted to have.” He frowned, his dead siblings’ broken dreams burrowing uncomfortably in his brain. “They went on and on about how romantic it was going to be. But I suppose it’s common for teenage girls to do that.”

She heaved a heavy breath. “I can’t even tell you how many times I thought about it when I was young, even before I was a teenager.”

He envisioned her, a lonely little girl in foster care, longing for the big day. It made him want to comfort her, to make the child she’d once been feel better. But it made him want to pull away from her, too.

But even so, he asked, “What kind of men do you date?”

She sat a little more upright. “What type do you think?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” He turned cavalier. “Big hairy bikers?”

She rolled her eyes. “Come on, Jake. I’m being serious.”

In spite of his joke, he wasn’t feeling particularly humorous, either. “Okay, then how about nice, proper guys who would make good husbands?”

She folded her hands on her lap. All she needed was a pair of tidy white gloves to complete the ladylike picture.

“Exactly,” she said.

Yes, he thought. Exactly. He already knew the answer before he’d posed the question. And now that she was being so prim and marriage-minded, all he wanted to do was get to the island and sweep her into the debauchery that had become his life.

Where nice, proper guys didn’t exist.


Three (#ulink_92593768-610f-5d87-a783-ce8054207e31)

It was breathtaking, Carol thought. The mansion where she and Jake and the rest of the partygoers were staying was a sprawling French Colonial–style estate, amid a gorgeous sandy white beach.

The caretakers, an older couple local to the area, escorted Carol and Jake to their rooms. Lena had brought the rest of the staff over from the States, along with a beauty team to provide in-room makeup, hair and nail services to her guests. Massage therapists could be had, as well.

No one had seen Lena yet. She wouldn’t be making an appearance until the party. But she was the type who liked to make a grand entrance, so Carol wasn’t surprised.

Carol’s and Jake’s rooms were located on the second floor and were next to each other, with adjoining doors in the center. For now they were open, making it one huge suite.

“We’re going to have to lock those as soon as we get settled in,” she said.

“We will,” he replied, going onto his veranda.

Carol’s balcony had the same view. But she joined him on his, standing beside him on the airy structure. Beyond the oasis-style pool was the ocean. In another direction, she spotted a mountainous terrain, surrounding a lush green glimpse of rain forest.

She thought it would be a wonderful setting for a destination wedding. The caretakers had already given them a bit of history on the custom-built mansion, which could be rented out for weddings. Not that she should be thinking about that. But after the discussion she and Jake had had on the plane, her mind was still immersed in marriage.

“It’s beautiful here,” she said as a breeze stirred between them.

Jake turned toward her. “You’re not afraid of getting bitten by something scary anymore?”

“I already told you they don’t have superscary things on this island.” Except for him, she thought. The look in his soul-stealing eyes was filled with danger. Or lust. Or something she was too chicken to identify. He was actually giving her goose bumps.

He kept staring at her, and she crossed her arms to ward off the sexy chill.

Trying to stay focused on their schedule, she told him, “The caretakers said that the chef was making seafood for dinner, with lots of vegan dishes on the side for the people who prefer that.” Their meals would be served in their rooms. After that, they could rest before they got ready for the party, which was scheduled for later that night.

He kept looking at her. “I’m getting a little hungry. Are you?”

She nodded. She definitely wanted to keep her mouth busy. But she didn’t have to wait for the meal. Baskets of fruit and nuts and other snacks had already been provided, along with fully stocked portable bars. A glass of wine sounded good about now. But Carol would be indulging in alcohol at the party, so she figured it was best to wait until then.

“Before I forget, I have something for you,” he said. “I’ll go get it.”

She remained on the veranda while he rummaged through his luggage. He returned with a trim white box.

She lifted the lid and uncovered an elegant gold bangle encrusted with round-cut diamonds surrounded by multicolored stones. There was also a pair of starfish-shaped earrings, also glittering with diamonds.

Her pulse quickened. “They’re magnificent, Jake.” The pieces were going to look stunning with her dress. “Are they on loan?” She knew that jewelers sometimes let their rich and famous clients borrow from their inventory.

“No. I paid for them.”

Oh, my. “You shouldn’t have done that.”

“I wanted to. Besides, I checked with Millie to see if you’d gotten any jewelry to go with your outfit, and she said that you hadn’t.”

“I didn’t want to go overboard and spend more than was necessary.” She gazed at the gems. “But this is way too much. I should return them to you after the party.”

“Seriously? That doesn’t make any sense. They were purchased to complement your wardrobe, and you’re keeping the clothes. So why would you give the earrings and bracelet back? They’re just part of the mix.”

She studied each piece again. “They really are amazing.”

“Don’t be too impressed. I had Millie tell me what to get. I’m not good at giving women gifts.”

That was true. Sometimes he even relied on Carol to decide on what type of flowers to send to his lovers. But she shouldn’t have used that as a comparison, not with the way he was making her feel.

Had she made a mistake, coming on this trip with him? It was certainly the most impetuous thing she’d ever done.

She closed the box and held it against her chest, where her heart was thumping much too madly. She liked being in his company, far more than she should.

“So it’s settled then?” he asked. “You’re keeping the jewelry?”

“Yes, thank you. I’ll accept it.” What good would it do to argue the point, when she was already losing ground?

“I should go unpack now,” she said.

He gestured to the pool. “Maybe I’ll go for a quick swim before the food gets here.”

She didn’t want to think about him diving into the water in nothing but a bathing suit, but her imagination went haywire just the same. No doubt his naturally bronzed body would be a sight to behold.

Attempting to make a graceful exit, she said, “I’ll see you when it’s time for the party.”

“I’ll see you, too.”

He didn’t turn away and neither did she. They just stood there, immersed in each other. So much for a graceful exit.

Finally, she ended the connection and headed to her room, closing and locking the door on her side that separated their living quarters. She heard him close the door on his side, too, and turn the bolt.

Carol breathed a heavy sigh of relief, then glanced around at the glamorous antique furnishings and four-poster bed. Jake’s room more or less mimicked hers, which didn’t make it any easier, knowing he was on the other end of those adjoining doors.

She warned herself to stay away from her veranda in case he did go for a swim. Fantasizing about him was bad enough. She didn’t need to watch him and become a voyeur, too.

* * *

As the evening progressed, Jake was more than ready to blow off some steam. After his swim, he’d eaten dinner. Then he’d fallen asleep, rumpled and naked. From there, he’d dragged his ass out of bed and taken a long, hot shower.

And now he was standing in front of the mirror in a designer suit, his hair styled in its usual way.

If he knew Carol, she’d probably been ready for hours. His assistant was an early bird, whereas Jake waited right up to the end to dash off to wherever he was going.

As if on cue, his phone beeped with a text. No doubt it was Carol, telling him it was time to leave. She always sent him reminders for everything.

He checked. Sure enough it was her. They agreed to meet in the hallway, outside their rooms.

She got there first, and as soon as Jake saw her, he marveled at her beauty. Her dress was wrapped in a stylish yet sultry way, complementing her voluptuous figure. It wouldn’t take much to untie the sarong, either. A pull here, a tug there. The body veil that went with it was incorporated into the design, flowing softly, making her ensemble even sexier.

Her makeup was light and elegant, and her shoulder-length, blunt-cut hair was straight and shiny. The starfish earrings twinkled next to her face, and the bracelet shone at her wrist. Her skin had just the slightest hint of shimmer, too, especially around the swell of her cleavage. Or maybe that was where he noticed it most. He assumed it was from some sort of glittery lotion. Her strappy evening bag was small and delicate—the kind women carried when they danced.

“You look hot,” he said. He stepped back to take another admiring glance. “Seriously, you could be a siren who roams the island, tempting guys like me to come out to play.”

She flushed accordingly. “Thank you. But I’m not trying to tempt anyone, and you’re always ready to play with some pretty young thing.”

Not the way he wanted to play with her. “Don’t worry. Tonight I’m going to be good.”

Her gaze roamed over him. “Then I guess it’s all right to tell you that you look rather hot yourself?”

Hell, yes, it was all right. He liked being in her sights, even if nothing was going to happen between them. “Millie brought a bunch of stuff to my house, too, and this is what I picked.” Suddenly he realized his shirt was the same minty green color as Carol’s eyes. He hadn’t chosen it for that reason, at least not deliberately. But who knew what tricks his attraction to her was playing on his subconscious?

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“As ready as I’m ever going to be.”

Was she still worried about fitting in with his crowd?

“Just hold on tight and have a good time.”

“Hold on to what?”

“Me.” He took her hand. “It’s a couples-only theme, remember?”

She threaded her fingers through his. “I still can’t believe I agreed to come here with you.”

“It’s too late to back out.” He squeezed her hand. For now she was his plus-one, and he wasn’t letting her go.

They took the staircase to the main ballroom on the first floor. Already, they could hear the thumping base of music from a DJ’s turntable.

The white-pillared ballroom exploded with color and flair. The couples-only theme was expressed in enormous paintings and life-size statues that had been commissioned specifically for the party, with depictions of legendary lovers, throughout the ages, entwined in a variety of emotional embraces.

A huge flat-screen monitor projected images that complemented the music, and scattered throughout the marble dance floor were gilded cages big enough for two, where couples could go inside and dance with each other. Jake thought it was intriguing. He didn’t know if Carol would agree to do that with him, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask when the moment felt right. It was just a bit of fun, after all. They were supposed to enjoy the festivities, and those cages were part of it.

The birthday girl wasn’t there yet. Clearly, Lena wasn’t quite ready to splash onto the scene and make her debut. Most of the guests had arrived and were partaking of food, drink and dance. A gourmet buffet offered lavish hors d’oeuvres and frothy desserts. Although Jake was still full from dinner, the pastries sure looked good.

“Good grief,” Carol said. “This is something else.”

Jake continued to hold her hand, giving her time to settle into the environment. A three-tiered fountain filled with ice was large enough to bathe in, with pink lemonade spilling from the spigots. Champagne was being served as well, delivered by waitstaff garbed in French Colonial attire to match the mansion. There was a huge aquarium bar, too, stocked with angelfish and tended by bikini-clad bartenders wearing blue wigs and fluffy white wings. Indoor and outdoor tables were available, with figurine candles shaped into historic couples as the centerpieces. The party was an eclectic mix of whatever appealed to Lena’s imagination.

After Jake and Carol took the champagne that was offered to them, she said, “I don’t know where to begin.”

“Anywhere you want.”

She sipped her drink. “I think I’d like a pastry to go with this.”

“That sounds good to me.” He escorted her to the buffet and grabbed a treat for himself, too.

She wanted to eat outside, so they went onto the courtyard and sat with a few other couples who’d also decided to start their evening off outdoors. Jake introduced Carol to them. He knew most of the people in attendance.

While Carol chatted with Lena’s songwriting partner and his wife, Jake studied the Napoleon and Josephine matchbooks that were on the table. The candle was a likeness of them, too, with their names scrolled across the bottom of the stand. He went ahead and struck a match and lit the wick. The wax emitted a rose scent.

Carol turned toward him, and they watched it burn together. Then she said, “Did you know that Josephine’s birth name was Marie-Josèphe-Rose? And that she went by Rose until Napoleon started calling her Josephine?”

“No, I wasn’t aware of that.” But the rose scent was making a bigger impact now, getting stronger as the candle burned.

“She was born in the Caribbean on the island of Martinique. I came across references to that area when I was researching the islands around here, too.”

He smiled. “And now we’re sitting at Napoleon and Josephine’s table, with you sharing your research with me.”

She returned his smile. “Sometimes I overdo things like that.”

“Yes, but what an interesting conversation it’s turning out to be.” He was fascinated by the details she’d provided. She looked beautiful in the candlelight, too, against the backdrop of sand and surf on the other side of the courtyard.

The songwriter interrupted, announcing to the entire group, “We should all go inside now. Lena will be appearing shortly.”

“Do you know how she’ll be making her entrance?” Jake asked.

“Yes, but she’d kill me if I spilled the beans.” The other man took his wife’s arm. “We’ll see you in there.”

“Sure.” Jake wished he could stay where he was. He was enjoying being out here with Carol.

“I guess we better head in, too,” she said after everyone else was gone.

“Yeah. I guess we better.” They’d lingered long enough.

“Should we blow out Napoleon and Josephine?” she asked.

“You can do it.”

She pursed her lips, and he watched her extinguish the flame, the candle’s floral scent still drifting softly through the air.

* * *

Word got around that Lena was due to arrive, and the party buzzed with anticipation. Carol compared it to waiting for the stroke of midnight on New Year’s Eve. Or a fireworks show on the Fourth of July.

Speaking of fireworks...

Jake stood beside her, his arm just barely grazing hers. She wanted to reach for his hand and hold it the way she’d done earlier, letting the excitement of touching him course through her veins. But she refrained.

Suddenly the blinds were closed on the French doors. A moment later, the chandeliers went out, the ballroom going pitch-black. Carol moved closer to Jake, not wanting to lose him in the dark.

When the lights returned, it was in the form of spinning strobes and black lights, creating shimmering effects and completely changing the atmosphere.

The DJ’s clothing and equipment shone brightly. Clearly, he was part of the show. Carol held her breath as one of the cages began to ascend from the dance floor, its cylindrical base rising on a hydraulic platform above the crowd. A man and woman were inside it, standing like statues. Their skintight jumpsuits glowed with graffiti-type artwork. They also had fluorescent streaks in their hair and makeup that illuminated their faces.

The DJ announced the caged duo, and the crowd cheered and clapped. It was Lena and her current boyfriend, Mark, who was one of her backup dancers.

Lena’s “Couples Only” song began to play, and more cheers and clapping erupted.

Lena and Mark danced, moving rhythmically in a magical performance. Along with everyone else, Carol was riveted by the way they interacted with each other. Jake stared up at them, too.

As the song ended, the cage was lowered back down to the ground. The door swung open and Lena and Mark emerged, rushing into the crowd, where they were greeted with hugs and kisses.

The DJ played another of Lena’s songs and everyone was encouraged to dance, with the black lights and strobes remaining on. Jake swung Carol into his arms, pulling her into the heat and passion of the dance.

She’d never experienced anything like this before. Her heart pounded in time to the music. The lyrics of the song were sexy, the beat feverish, with Jake’s big broad body bumping against hers.

This was his world. This was the kind of fast-paced party he was used to attending. She felt like a newly sprouted flower that was about to be crushed. But God help her, she liked it, too.

Because of how much she liked Jake. Everything about him thrilled her. Scared her.

Jake was singing to the song while he danced.

She shouldn’t have come here. She shouldn’t be swaying like the siren he’d accused her of being.

Holy island hell. Some of the couples on the dance floor were kissing, tongues and all—mimicking Lena and Mark, who were making a rowdy spectacle of themselves.

Carol’s skin went hot. She hoped that Jake didn’t notice the sensual activity.

Unfortunately, he did. She could tell the very moment he became aware of what was happening. He stopped singing and actually bit down on his bottom lip. Carol was doing that, too, fighting the urge to join in and press herself against Jake and kiss the living hell out of him.

Finally, the provocative song ended. The next one wasn’t so bad, even if the beat was still quick and thumping.

Carol didn’t know how long they danced. They didn’t stop until the lights returned to normal and the ballroom settled down a bit. Guests headed for the buffet or outside to catch some air.

Jake and Carol got two frosty glasses and filled them with lemonade from the fountain. She desperately needed to quench her thirst. So did Jake apparently. He practically guzzled his.

“We should go say hello to Lena,” he said.

“Yes, of course.” They hadn’t wished her a happy birthday yet. “Where is she?”

“I think she and Mark are over there.” He motioned toward the bar.

Yep, that’s where Lena and her boyfriend were. As soon as Jake and Carol approached them, Lena dived straight into Jake’s arms and gave him a sisterly hug. Mark, with his fluorescent-streaked blond hair and colorfully lined eyes, grinned at Carol and said hello. Up close, she saw that he was younger than Lena, by about five years or so. Lena was blonde as well, with a long, leggy figure and doll-like features, her eyes wide and her lips bowed. She came from a showbiz family. Her parents were well-known movie stars, albeit divorced now. Even her grandmother had been a go-go dancer in the sixties, which was where the cage inspiration had probably come from.

The pop star released Jake and shifted her attention to Carol. “Do I know you?” she asked. “You seem really familiar.”

“We’ve met briefly a few times. I’m Carol Lawrence, Jake’s assistant.”

“Oh, that’s right. Wow. You look spectacular.”

“Thank you.” Carol appreciated the compliment and how genuine it sounded. “So do you. It’s a wonderful party, and your entrance was magnificent.”

“It was fun. A girl only turns thirty once.”

Carol nodded, and after a second of silence, Lena tugged her away from the earshot of the men. But by now, the guys were already engaged in conversation, so it didn’t seem to matter, anyway.

“When did you and Jake start seeing each other?” Lena asked.

Carol quickly clarified, “We’re not dating.”

“Yet he brought you here? On a couples-only weekend?” Lena made a curious face. “Oh, come on. Who’s he trying to kid?”

“Really, it’s no big deal.” Carol downplayed her answer, especially with how badly she’d wanted to kiss him on the dance floor. “He needed a date for the party, and I was accessible because I work for him.”

“Mark works for me, too. And now we’re messing around.”

Carol didn’t know what to say. The comparison was making her terribly nervous. So she settled on, “Things happen.”

“Do they ever.” Lena leaned in close. “I am rather crazy about Mark. But who knows how long it will last? I do have a reputation for being fickle.”

Carol wagged her finger, a little playfully, a little seriously. “So I’ve heard.”

The birthday girl laughed, making no apologies. “Life is too short not to go after what you want. So whatever you do, just have a good time this weekend. You might even end up being crazy about Jake, too.”

It was already too late for that. But still, Carol needed to be careful not to go overboard. She didn’t live by Lena’s free-spirited standards.

Their private discussion ended, and Lena went back to her beau. Carol returned to Jake and he asked her to dance again. Only now, the music was a little slower, a little softer.

And more tempting than ever.


Four (#ulink_a893565d-652c-5057-8fd2-e0fefb9df434)

As Jake led Carol toward the dance floor, he said, “How about if we go into one of the cages this time?” He wanted to give it a whirl.

She blinked at him. “You want to dance inside of one of those?”

“Sure. Why not? The cage Lena and Mark were in is free.”

“I guess that would be okay.” Carol sounded intrigued but tentative. “As long as it doesn’t elevate like when they performed.”

“That was just part of a show. They won’t do that to us.” He took her hand as they neared the cage. “But just in case, you’re not afraid of heights, are you?”

“No, but you better be kidding about the ‘just in case’ part.”

“I was.” He shot her a teasing smile. He couldn’t seem to get enough of her this evening.

When they reached the cage, she entered first, and he held back to study her. She looked like an exotic bird who’d just been captured, the beads on her dress winking in the light.

“What are you waiting for?” she asked.

“Nothing.” He joined her inside and closed the gate.

Now that they were in there together, the space seemed tighter than he’d expected. Or maybe it just felt that way. But since the song was a ballad, it made sense for them to stand so close.

Jake took Carol in his arms, and they moved in unison, naturally compatible. They had chemistry, he thought. On and off the dance floor. In and out of the cage. She fit perfectly against him, making him want to hold her even closer.

He glanced at the big flat-screen monitor. Carol’s gaze flickered to it, too. The video was a montage of movie star couples, from early Hollywood until now.

“It’s funny how most of them didn’t stay together,” he said.

“Some of them lasted a lifetime,” she replied, without missing a beat.

The lights in the ballroom went low. Even the images on the screen turned gentler, with famous wedding photos. Big frothy cakes. Long white dresses. Elegant brides and dashing grooms.

“This is beautiful,” Carol said.

Was it? Jake wasn’t sure. But in an oddly disturbing way, he was intrigued by the stimuli, too. It was exciting to feel what she was feeling, even if he didn’t understand it.

“Maybe we shouldn’t stay in here for too long,” he said. The cage was starting to feel like a romantic prison, with no release in sight.

“Maybe you’re right. This is getting...”

Her words drifted off, but he knew what she meant. By now, their bodies were so close they were plastered together like animals who were about to mate.

But worse yet was how the video had begun to change, morphing into film clips of love scenes, some sweet and pure, some iconic and classic, some offbeat and erotic.

“Yikes,” Carol said as a bondage scene appeared.

Yeah, Jake thought. Yikes. It actually involved a cage. And blindfolds and all sorts of unexpected things. Trust Lena, he thought, to toss something kinky into the lovey-dovey mix.

“Let’s go,” he said.

Carol avoided the video, looking straight at him instead. “Where to?”

“Anywhere but here.” He pushed open the gate, and they dashed out of their shiny gold confinement. They kept moving until they were outside breathing the cool night air.

But once they were in the courtyard, they both just stood there, trapped within their own private hell.

“Now what do we do?” she asked.

“I don’t know.” He paused to think about it. “Maybe we could go for a walk on the beach. I could really use some time away from the party.”

“So could I.”

He got another idea. “How about this? We can grab some food and drinks to take with us.”

“That sounds nice. But how are we going to haul everything out to the beach?”

“I’ll tip a waiter to pack it up for us. I’ll ask him to supply a blanket or some towels or something, too.” He flashed a silly grin. “Then again, maybe we can just use your dress.”

She smacked his shoulder, and they both burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh. It felt good to be preparing for a picnic, too. Even if it was at night. On a tropical island.

With no one else around.

* * *

Carol walked along the beach, carrying her shoes and enjoying the sand between her toes. She looked over at Jake. His pant legs were rolled up, and he was carrying his shoes and a big square basket, filled to the brim. The waiter had even tossed in a candle from one of the tables.

“How far out are we going to go?” she asked.

“How about here?” Jake chose a spot on the other side of the estate, close enough to provide light from the mansion, but still far enough away so that the party didn’t interfere.

“It’s perfect.” Being around so many other people, with all of that sexy activity, had been taking its toll. She was grateful for the reprieve.

Jake spread out a big fluffy beach towel and placed the basket beside it. He removed the candle, stuck it in the sand and lit the wick.

Carol sat on the towel. He joined her and handed her a champagne glass. He uncorked the Dom Pérignon and poured it.

“To peace and quiet,” he said.

“The solitude is wonderful.” She sipped her drink and glanced at the wax figurines. “Who was that candle fashioned after?”

“I don’t know, but it smells like vanilla.”

“Yes, I noticed that, too.” It was a nice, pleasant aroma, mixed with the sea.

“Let’s find out who they are.” He lifted it up and squinted at the names across the bottom of it. “Oh, here we go. It’s Robert Browning and Elizabeth Barrett Browning. I don’t know much about them, do you?”

“Not really. Other than he was a playwright and they were both poets. Oh, and that they were married. I think they met through letters they exchanged.”

“That’s more than I knew.”

“I took an English literature class in college, and I guess some of it stuck with me.” Carol had a business degree from a state college that she’d funded with student loans. “It was weird, being a foster kid and trying to figure out my education. As soon as I turned eighteen, I didn’t even have a place to live. But thank goodness the laws are changing now and some kids are able to stay in their foster homes until they’re twenty-one.”

“That’s definitely a change that needed to happen. But it only involves a handful of states. Lots of foster youth are still homeless at eighteen. But I was lucky in that I was able to crash on Garrett’s couch. He was back with his mom by then.”

Carol nodded. Garrett wasn’t orphaned like her and Jake. He’d bounced in and out of foster care because his single mother had gotten terribly ill from an infectious disease and wasn’t able to care for him. At the time, she’d already been struggling with an autoimmune disorder. Although she recovered from the infection, the chronic illness continued to plague her, even now.

Jake added, “Without Garrett and his mom, I would have been totally displaced, graduating from high school with nowhere to go.”

“Where was Max?”

“He was still in foster care.”

“Oh, that’s right. He’s a little younger than you and Garrett. But you’ve all come a long way.”

“That’s for sure. Max made it first, though, being the nerd that he is.”

Carol smiled, amused by Jake’s description of his foster brother. Max was a self-taught software designer and internet entrepreneur who’d become a billionaire in his early twenties. But even so, she thought he was too handsome to be called a nerd. Then again, he did seem a bit socially awkward at times.

Jake said, “Max loaned Garrett and me the money to get our businesses off the ground. We couldn’t have done it without him.”

“The bond between the three of you is amazing.” Max’s childhood had been especially troubling, from what she understood. “Where is he? I haven’t seen him around lately.”





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