Caribbean Nights
Tressie Lockwood
Copyright © June 2010, Tressie Lockwood
Cover art by Sugar and Spice Press © June 2010
ISBN 978-1-936110-73-5
This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form.
Sugar and Spice Press
North Carolina, USA
www.sugarnspicepress.com
Chapter One
Keeta dropped into her desk chair and yanked the phone off the hook. She was about to call her girlfriend to tell her the good news, but her boss, Ann Marie, interrupted yet again. “Keeta, I need you to make all the flight arrangements for the girls and book the hotel. Here’s my company card. Just charge it to that. And get me a latte, would you, sweetie? It’s been a long day.”
“Sure, Ann Marie.” The phone went back on the hook. “How many are going?” She slid her scratch pad close and prepared to take notes.
“Five girls, two hair stylists…wait, ugh! Let me get you the number. No, better yet, you call down to Jill and get her to give you the rundown of all the staff we need to take. Then call each of the models to find out who they can’t live without, and cut that to essentials. You know how they are. I know you can create miracles, Keeta. So get cracking. We don’t have much time.”
With that whirlwind of words tossed at her and a few almost indecipherable names written on Keeta’s pad, Ann Marie strode with purpose into her office, her spiky heels clicking all the way. Keeta sighed. It looked like another late night. Who was she kidding? Another several late nights.
Either way, the work would get done, and all preparations would be made on time, because Keeta was nothing if not good at what she did. She stole a moment to call her girlfriend anyway. She’d pop if she didn’t share the news with someone. Candace answered on the second ring, panting. Keeta pictured her friend in her usual attire, biker shorts and a sports bra, sweating from exercise, but always thin and beautiful. Keeta avoided thinking about her own plump figure and jumped into conversation.
“You will never guess the good news I got today,” Keeta exclaimed.
“Your company finally recognized real talent and promoted you to editor?” Candace said.
Keeta rolled her eyes. “No, but I believe that’s coming. You watch.”
“I hope in our lifetime. You really need to rethink working for that place, Keeta. All they value is plastic.”
Keeta had heard it all before. She knew Candace referred to plastic surgery, which she claimed every single person working at LisaLicious Style magazine had had done to them. Everyone except Keeta, that is. Her waistline was inches larger than every other woman in the place, and even some of the men. And although big boobs were a plus, Keeta’s were big and somewhat saggy—not a great combination. Put with her oversized booty, well, she had nothing going for her but big, innocent brown eyes. Not that she thought her eyes were fantastic, but the innocent part and the big part had gotten her a ton of favors with vendors who wouldn’t see things Ann Marie’s way. So the saying went around the office that Keeta’s eyes could get you anything. Never mind her Bachelors in business management with a concentration in fashion merchandising, for which she’d slaved night and day to get.
Frustrated with reviewing how her life seemed to be moving nowhere at the moment, she griped, “Do you want to hear my good news or not?”
“Lay it on me.” The sound of Candace’s treadmill started up again. The woman never quit.
“I’m going to Jamaica,” Keeta announced. “Can you believe it?”
“No way! That’s awesome, girl. You’re finally getting a break from the sweat shop. I’ve been telling you forever you need to take your earned days and make them realize what an asset you are.”
Keeta grimaced. “Well, I’m not actually going on vacation.”
“Why did I get my hopes up?”
“It’s still Jamaica. You can’t beat that.” Keeta wasn’t even convincing herself at this point, and she knew it wasn’t going over to Candace. Her girlfriend was always a reality check for her when Keeta lost sight of her dreams or, like Ann Marie sometimes did, forgot that she was a person. “Remember that Caribbean Nights shoot I was telling you about a couple weeks ago? They’re doing it in Jamaica, which I knew, but today Ann Marie said she needed me there, and the magazine will pay for everything. I know I’ll be working hard, but I’ll have my nights free to walk on the beach or whatever. I can’t wait.”
“Okay, I’m excited for you,” Candace admitted. “And who knows, you might meet your one and only down there and fall madly in love. I can hope. You, above all others, deserve someone special, Keeta.”
Keeta sucked her teeth. “Girl, don’t even go there. You know I’m all about my career right now, and I’m thinking about going back to school for my Masters. Besides, I don’t have time for a man.” What she didn’t admit was that there was absolutely no way in the world a man would look her way with five supermodels in bikinis running around. Her size fourteen body, pushing a size sixteen, had never once gotten a man’s pulse racing when she walked by, and that wasn’t about to start in Jamaica.
“I better get off this phone,” she told Candace. “I have a ton to prepare and nothing started. I was just so excited I had to tell you. We’ll talk about it later when I get home.”
“If you get home. Okay, sweetie, don’t stay too late. Luv ya.”
“Luv you too,” Keeta echoed and hung up the phone.
When she went back to her list of models, she marveled that after five years working as Ann Marie’s assistant, Keeta still had to squint and stare at Ann Marie’s handwriting to figure out what she’d written. She concentrated so hard, that it took her a minute to realize someone stood over her desk, blocking some of the light.
Keeta looked up—and up farther. The man standing over her desk was a veritable giant with broad shoulders, a powerful chest, and the rest of his body lickably hard in slacks and a collared shirt. When she made it to his face without cramping her neck, Keeta caught her breath. Even better, his face was that of a god carved in marble. Except he was tanned from, she guessed, lots of time spent outdoors. His eyes were chips of coal to match the tight, dark curls on his head. His jaw line was steel with a small goatee and a slight, shaped beard at his chin.
A full bottom lip compressed with the top one, teasing Keeta’s feminine senses and giving her a brief fantasy of kissing him. The aura the man gave off was danger, and the way he stood erect and proud gave her the impression of a military career. Keeta was good at noticing details about people like that. It helped with work.
Still staring at the man, she snapped out of it when he cleared his throat and raised an eyebrow. “May I help you?” Glad her voice had worked and she didn’t sound like the mouse she felt, she waited for his response.
“Dominic East to see Ann Marie Connor,” he announced in the deepest, panty-wetting tone Keeta had ever heard. She clutched her hands in her lap while squeezing her legs together.
“Do you have an appointment?”
He leaned down over her, bracing his palms flat on the desk calendar. Even lowering himself in that way, he was still much bigger than she was. The sensation was unreal. He narrowed angry eyes on her face, making her squirm this time with nervousness. “No, and I have no business in this building, yet here I am.”
Her mouth fell open. “Come again?”
He was about to explain, but they were interrupted by Ann Marie, herself. She glided up, all business and holding out her hand. “You must be Dominic. Hello, I’m Ann Marie. Let’s talk in my office.”
Heart sinking, Kee
ta examined her boss. As usual, she wore a tight-fitting dress that somehow managed to be professional while also showing off her ample cleavage and offering a peek at a smooth, slender thigh. The high heels that Keeta could never wear without turning her ankle and landing her on the floor showed off Ann Marie’s long legs to perfection. Then again, what did Keeta expect? Ann Marie had been a model in her younger days, and even pushing forty-eight, she was still beautiful. Keeta felt herself fading into the wallpaper behind her and resisted the tug.
She stood up, grabbed her pad, and rushed across to Ann Marie’s office. She was an assistant. There was no reason why should couldn’t get in on this meeting to find out who the mystery man was, because it was for sure, as scrumptious as he was, he was nobody’s model!
Chapter Two
Dominic sat across from the woman Adrien had named as his contact. He already hated what he’d agreed to do, babysit a bunch of vain women who were too into their looks. This one might be creative director, but from the way she leaned toward him across the expensive oak desk, he knew she wanted nothing more than for him to see her cleavage. With a little encouragement from him, she’d give him her phone number too for some sexual action later. He wasn’t interested. Not that he didn’t find her beautiful being a good ten years older than him, but he had vowed never to fall for a model ever again. Ann Marie, or any of the vacant women he’d crossed paths with on the way to this floor, did not tempt him in the least.
The door behind him opened and closed before he could state his concerns. He registered the presence of the assistant without reaction. In truth, she’d surprised him. He had expected all of the females, and most of the males in this place, to be at least beautiful, if not pleasing to the eyes. This woman—well, there was something about her. First, she was tiny, not in size, but in height. Dominic estimated her to be no more than five foot five. The top of her head might reach his chest. But it was the eyes that had lured him and almost made him forget why he was there. Big brown eyes with long, dark lashes set amid rich, cocoa brown skin. Her hair had been caught up in a bun, and she had a smudge of what he guessed was ink on the right side of her jaw. He’d itched to wipe it away.
Her clothing was stylish but not at all expensive, and while it fit her figure, it did not hide the fact that she was plumper than anyone he’d seen here. What shocked Dominic was that he’d found himself tightening just imagining the heavy breasts she’d hidden behind the buttoned up blouse as opposed to the fake breasts displayed from Ann Marie. That damn Coco, his ex, must have done a serious number on his head.
“Oh, there you are, Keeta,” Ann Marie called out. “I’m glad you’re here. Our esteemed leader felt it was necessary to provide extra protection for the girls while we’re in Jamaica.” She indicated Dominic. “So, Dominic is to act as bodyguard. This is Keeta Hall, my right hand.”
Keeta walked over with her hand out. Dominic reached to take it, but before he could, she tripped over something and fell nose first into his chest. The lightning that bolted through his system threw him off balance, but Dominic steadied himself while he held her up. “Are you okay?”
He imagined if she were lighter-skinned, she’d be blushing red about now. “Sorry about that,” she mumbled, shook his hand, and dove into the chair opposite the one he had been sitting in.
Dominic watched Keeta a second longer as she buried her face in the notepad, and then he turned back to Ann Marie. “I walked in here off the street, offering a flimsy lie about who I was and what I wanted. Your security, if you have it, is lax.”
“Well, you’re early,” Ann Marie explained. “We just discussed hiring extra bodyguard help this morning, and the man I spoke to at the agency didn’t tell me he had selected anyone.”
Dominic didn’t sink into the too soft chair again. Instead, he paced to the window with his hands folded behind his back. “I wanted to get a feel for the atmosphere I would be working in as far as the people before I commit to jump on a plane to Jamaica. Coming weeks before you are scheduled to leave gives you time to select someone almost as qualified, and me enough to know if I want the job.”
He almost felt her bristle behind him and suppressed a smile. The rapid clicking of keys met his speech. He thought she’d zoned him out, but then she spoke. “I just got your file from your boss on my Blackberry. You’re ex-military, a sergeant.”
“I knew it,” Keeta chirped. He glanced over his shoulder at her, and when he expected her to lower her head in embarrassment, she beamed at him instead. Those eyes captured him. Dominic shook off the feeling and faced Ann Marie.
“Sergeant First Class, to be precise. I retired a couple of months ago,” he explained. “This is my first mission as bab—uh—bodyguard. However, I assure you I have led many missions in the field and have never lost a charge in my care.”
Ann Marie gave a false shiver and grinned. “Yum, a regular G.I. Joe, huh? I think you’ll work out fine. What do you think, Keeta?”
Keeta stood up and came around to lean on the edge of Ann Marie’s desk. Although he stood just a couple feet away from her, she didn’t appear intimidated by him. He liked her spunk. “I don’t know if it’s right for him.” She crossed her arms under her breasts. Dominic resisted looking down at them. “This is a glorified babysitting job, after all.”
He met her questioning gaze and knew she had figured out what he almost let slip earlier. She wasn’t empty-headed like the rest. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t vain in her own way, or a liar. He sighed. Damn, Coco. Maybe he wasn’t ready for this. Losing himself in some godforsaken place on missions was easy. Being here, constantly reminded of what an idiot he was in the arena of love, was a whole other game. Nevertheless, looking at the challenge the diminutive assistant threw him, he would not back down.
“I can handle it just fine,” he said to Keeta. “You will not find better than me for this position.”
Ann Marie clapped her hands. “Sounds good to me. You’re hired! Keeta, get him up to speed on your itinerary. No time like the present.”
“Yeah, ’cause it’s not like I don’t have a million other things,” Keeta muttered as she led him out of the office. He was pretty sure Ann Marie hadn’t heard.
“Oh, and Dominic,” Ann Marie called out before he closed the door. He stopped and turned back. “I’ll be giving you a call just in case we need to discuss things further.”
He compressed his lips. That tone said it wasn’t business she wanted to discuss. He gave a slight nod, but he’d let her know in no uncertain terms he wasn’t going there with her. He did not mix business with pleasure. Period. That screwed with the head, and he damn sure wasn’t playing in this sandbox.
Keeta showed him around the office, introducing him to some of the worker bees, although this job was temporary, and it was unlikely that he’d see many of them again. He had trouble keeping his gaze off her ass as she walked ahead of him. Were all African American women’s asses so round? He couldn’t recall as he’d never looked in that direction other than to acknowledge a woman was attractive.
Oddly enough, he’d never looked at a woman over a size six despite how big he was. But with Keeta, why the hell did he have to clench his hands into fists to keep from touching her? So occupied was he in watching her rear, he didn’t notice her stop until she faced him. This time, she did blush when she saw where his eyes had been directed. “And that’s all of the magazine on these three floors,” she yammered and turned to rush into the waiting elevator.
He followed at a more sedate pace. Keeta wrung her hands in front of her, then copied his stance of having her hands linked behind her. When that didn’t seem to settle her nerves, she shifted from one foot to the other and wiped her palms along her skirt. Dominic decided not to point out that she hadn’t pushed the button and did so himself. He had to lean past her, bringing their bodies into close proximity.
Her head went back and lips parted. If that wasn’t an invitation, Dominic didn’t know what was. He moved the hand lingering abo
ve the button to brace on the wall behind Keeta. She stumbled back a pace, trapped between him and the wall. Her sweet panting breath, scented with mint, teased his nostrils. Years of training forced him to get a grip, and he jabbed the button before moving away.
“You’ll be in Jamaica as well?” he asked.
She stammered, “Y-Yes.”
The elevator dinged its arrival on the first floor, and the doors slid open. Dominic stepped into the lobby. “I’ll contact you in a few days for a full report on the itinerary and complete information on the models. Good day.”
Dominic heard her outraged huff, but he kept moving. If he didn’t, he’d go back there and take her in his arms. The job would be over before it started, and he couldn’t let Adrien down. Bodyguard work might not be what he wanted to do with the rest of his life, but it would keep him on his toes, and to some extent, keep his skills sharpened. When it was over, maybe he would have a better understanding of what he wanted to do next. With any luck, the entire mission would go smoothly, and a pair of innocent, brown eyes would not deter him from what he needed to do.
Chapter Three
Keeta sat in her plane seat with a pile of paperwork on her lap. She might have her pen poised over her notepad and earplugs in her ears to cut down on distractions, but the truth was, her mind was on anything but work. Every nightmare that could come up over the last few weeks had arisen, but Keeta had met the challenges with her usual determination. She’d passed information on each of the models to Dominic by way of email. That meant she hadn’t laid eyes on the hunky man since that first day.
Now, on the plane, he sat just across the aisle from her, and she had to be tortured with the many visits from the models asking questions they already knew the answers to. The real reason they wandered back to coach from first class was to flirt with Dominic, and Keeta got to witness every giggle and sigh, every breast brushed by accident against his arm.
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