Destination Romance

by Barbara McMahon

  Three other friends joined their group, each laden with bags of food. Michael eyed all the bags. 'Should I go and get something to contribute?' he asked.

  What she really wanted was for him to go, full stop. Maybe she could send him to get something and leave before he returned? No, that would be too awful. But she did wish he'd leave.

  'No need, we have plenty,' Marlise assured him.

  Katie still refused to look at him, though she could feel his eyes on her.

  As the sky went through its nightly display, she forgot her unease and let the beauty of nature's evening ritual delight her. Michael leaned over to speak softly, his hand on her shoulder, moving to stand close to her. 'I was told not to miss this and now I know why,' he murmured. 'I usually avoid tourist places, but this is well worth it. I'm glad I came. It's beautiful.'

  She could feel the heat from his body, a tingling awareness from her shoulders to the very core of her being. Was it the tropical air, mystical and mysterious? Feelings long dormant bloomed in the erotic setting of the island, the magic of the place making her more aware of everything. Fighting a strange longing to lean back against him, she kept herself ramrod-straight, eyes on the sky.

  Odd, the sunset was not something she would have thought he'd appreciate. His sentiments were so close to her own that she forgot her awkwardness.

  'It is beautiful, isn't it? I love coming here, but don't tell the others—they'd laugh at me. It's considered a tourist thing. We really came to watch the tourists, but I love the sunsets.' Her voice was also low, for him only. She glanced up at him.

  His dark eyes looked down into hers as he slowly smiled, his face close.

  'Our secret,' he said softly.

  Katie had to drag her eyes from his. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. She blinked and stared at the sky as it darkened. Her heart rate increased, and she felt as if her clothes constricted. She had no business sharing secrets with Michael at this late date. They were in the process of separating their lives, not making new memories together.

  She darted a quick glance at him. He was quietly staring at the spectacular colors painting the sky, the long low wisps of clouds a foil for the fading light. His hand still rested on her shoulder, and warmth spread throughout her body; even her heart warmed at his touch. For a moment Katie felt perfectly in tune with the man at her side.

  The picnic on the beach turned out to be fun despite Michael’s presence. The men built a roaring driftwood fire on which everyone cooked their own hot dogs. The buns got a little burned, but no one cared. Soft drinks and beer flowed freely and the talk was amusing, full of laughter and high spirits. Michael held his own with the group, but gave very little information about his life. Katie didn't think it was noticeable to anyone but her; but she wondered briefly how the others would react if they knew who Michael was.

  It was so different from the parties and social affairs they were used to attending. Katie marveled at Michael's participation. It had taken a couple of picnics for her to feel comfortable and at ease around the fun-loving, casual group, but Michael fit in as if he'd been doing this all his life.

  A flicker of impatience brushed through her. She didn't want him fitting in. She wanted him to feel awkward and out of place, and leave. Return to Boston and leave her alone.

  As the evening passed, they grew quieter, drawing back a little from the fire and separating into small groups. Katie moved back from the heat, sitting quietly, happily watching her friends. Michael came to stretch out on the sand beside her, in the shadows that flickered and changed as the wood burned.

  Watching the blazing fire as Rick fed more driftwood to the greedy flame, Katie was content. She let the sand, still warm from the sun, trickle through her fingers. The soft breeze from the sea carried the warm air gently by. It was still balmy, and the breeze gave only hint of coolness.

  'This is fun,' she said softly, her eyes on the flickering flames.

  Michael was lying back on one elbow, his face in shadow, but Katie felt his eyes on her.

  'It is. Do you do this often?'

  She turned to see him, the flickering light illuminating part of his face, then leaving it in darkness.

  'This is my third or fourth time ever. I never did something like this as a child. Imagine doing this in February. Boston is snowed in.'

  He smiled. 'I didn't know you were so against our winters.'

  'I don't think I knew it myself. It's wonderful here. I love it.'

  He fell silent. The night was clear, and the others around the fire talked softly among themselves or just stared into the flames.

  'Have dinner with me tomorrow, Katherine? We can find a quiet restaurant with a secluded table—just the two of us,' Michael suggested. 'We still have to talk— we resolved nothing the other night.'

  She started in surprise, wary of his motives.

  'I don't really have anything dressy to wear, Michael. The dress I wore the other evening is the only one I have, and it's not very dressy.'

  'Is that the one you didn't wear a bra beneath?'

  She smiled saucily over to him. 'It is. Do you have a problem with my not wearing a bra?' she asked, amusement evident in her tone.

  'I find it damned distracting—as I imagine every other male within eyesight does.'

  Katie chuckled softly. 'Hardly every male in sight.'

  With a muffled oath, he reached out and pulled her to him, pushing her back on the sand and covering her mouth with his.

  His kiss was wild and raw and hot. Her mouth was assaulted by the passion of his lips as he moved against her, demanding a response. The heat he generated permeated her whole body, spreading from her mouth to her breasts, to deep within her, until she was hot and feverish. Her senses spun, explosively caught up in emotions and feelings. The evening faded, the velvety night enclosing them so that Katie knew only the delight Michael wrought as his kiss went on.

  His hands were hard on her shoulders, his chest pressing against her as if he wanted to meld their two bodies into one. Her breasts filled, throbbed, craved his touch. His lips moved and Katie responded. Her hands encircled his neck, pulling him closer, longing for his kiss to last forever.

  The soft swish of the wind from the trees was lost in the blood pounding in her veins, and the warmth of the sand did not come close to the heat from Michael's body, the heat from his lips. Straining for completion, she moved against him, welcoming his weight as he lay across her, her hands caressing his back, feeling the strong muscles move beneath her fingers.

  His mouth was moist, exciting. His tongue plunged deep within, dueled with hers, inviting it to invade his mouth. He sucked gently, and Katie's stomach lurched in reaction. The heat built up, and her lips responded, moving against his, her entire focus on their lips, mouths, tongues. His hand held her head as his assault spread fire to the far extremities of her limbs.

  When he pulled back, Katie felt deserted. She noted that Michael was breathing hard, then with surprise that she was, too. She wished she could see his face, but the fire was behind him and he was in silhouette.

  Slowly her hands fell to her side, and she stared up at the man she didn't know. Michael leaned over her for a few minutes as if he could see her face in the faint starlight, as if he was studying it, then he moved to sit up.

  'Dinner?' His voice was normal, casual.

  Katie felt shattered. She closed her eyes, feeling as if she'd completed a long roller-coaster ride—shaken and breathless. She hadn't been kissed like that in ages. Had she truly experienced the earth-shattering emotions churning within? Had he? How could he be so casual? Didn't he feel anything? Licking her lips, she tasted him again and her heart raced erratically.

  Slowly she sat up, brushing sand from her hair, off her clothes. A quick glance to the others around the fire showed her that no one was looking their way, no one had seen anything. After such a momentous event, she was shocked that nobody had even noticed. That the world hadn’t shifted.

  Michael watched her, his fa
ce impassive, giving no clue to his thoughts or feelings. Katie knew that all the confusion she felt must be stamped clearly on her features. Did she want to have dinner with him? They were getting a divorce; why would he want to have dinner? If had anything to discuss, he could do so here.

  'Katherine, don't analyze it, just say yes or no,' Michael's voice gently chided her.

  She took a breath. 'I'll go to dinner.'

  'I can pick you up at seven.'

  'No, I'll come to the hotel.'

  'Don't want me to see your place?' he guessed.

  Katie found it hard to explain. It was her place, untouched by her past life. She had no memories with Michael there. And she was afraid to see him against that setting. Afraid she might always see him there, when she was trying to start over, without any reminders of him.

  'Come to the hotel, then,' he told her.

  She glanced at him. There had been understanding in his voice. Had he been aware of her feelings? She looked away. Not always—if he had, maybe she wouldn't want a divorce.

  'I'll be there at seven. I'm going now.' She darted him a swift glance then looked away, her lips tingling. She longed for him to kiss her again. If he was as aware of her as she thought, he'd know.

  He smiled a wicked smile, settling back in the sand. 'Goodnight, Katie. Maybe tomorrow night.'

  Damn him, he did know, and was not going to kiss her again.

  'You're mean,' she whispered. Daringly, without thinking, she reached over to brush her lips against his. She pulled back quickly, but not before she felt his response. Before he could do anything, however, she scrambled to her feet. Calling a goodnight to her friends, she ran lightly across the sand, heading for home running from the memory of his kiss, from the magical pull of attraction, from the man she'd once loved.

  Try as she might, she couldn't outrun the memory. The scene replayed itself over and over. She didn't remember reaching out to Michael before. She'd been so in awe of him at first, then patterns and habits had taken hold and she was always the recipient of any touching.

  Had Michael ever wanted her to initiate displays of affection? She was startled into stillness. No, he was a very assertive individual, as much in charge of his household as his business. If he'd wanted it different, he would have told her.

  Still the thought stayed with her as she walked home.

  It didn't become easier, she thought the next morning as she stood before his door. She didn't want to go in, yet knew she had to. Why didn't he go to the beach or the pool like ordinary tourists? Why come to this island paradise if he was just going to work all the time? He could do that in Boston.

  She knocked and entered. As on the day before, Michael was on the phone. He ended the conversation, however, when he saw Katie, and hung up. Moving towards her, his expression was cautious.

  'Good morning.' Her voice was steady.

  'Good morning. We still on for tonight?'

  She nodded.

  'There's been a change. We can't do the quiet dinner I wanted. I have to attend a function in Miami. I want you to go with me.'

  'You said last night dinner just for the two of us. What's this function in Miami?'

  'A meeting with some Brazilians who are interested in a high-rise complex in the new capital. Donovan Construction has had the bid in for weeks, several of the principals are here on another matter, and it would be a perfect opportunity to meet with them and further our efforts for that contract.'

  'You don't need me for that,' she said, hurt that once again business took precedence over everything else. She knew better, why did she even bother. Michael wasn't going to change.

  'I do need you,' he insisted. 'Their wives are accompanying them. I want you to entertain them. Also show them I have a wife. They are particular about things like that.'

  'You don't have a wife, Michael. We're getting a divorce.' She stepped back, trying to get away from him, trying to escape the trap that loomed before her.

  'We're still married until the divorce is final. For heaven's sake, Katherine, you've done this kind of thing a thousand times before; what's one more night?'

  'I don't want to go to Miami with you.'

  He paused and turned to look out of the window. The silence stretched out for several long minutes. Katie watched him, knowing he was thinking of other ways to convince her. She'd seen him in action over the years, she knew what he was doing, but not what to expect.

  'The hotel expects its employees to do all they can to ensure the guests are having a good time,' Michael began. 'I don't think asking you to go to dinner with me is such a big favor.'

  'I don't think the hotel expects us to make sure you have that good a time,' she replied dryly.

  He spun around to face her again. 'Dammit, Katherine, I'm not asking you to sleep with me, just go to dinner. You agreed last night to do so. We'll just go to Miami instead of staying here.'

  She was silent a long time, trying to see the fallacy of his argument. Miami was a long way from Key West. She'd feel safer staying in Key West. She didn’t want to go. But maybe it would put him in a good mood and they could talk on the drive back. She nodded slowly.

  A hint of triumph gleamed in Michael's eyes as he smiled at her response.

  'Fine. I'll get you at five—we need to meet them at eight and it's almost three hours' drive to Miami.'

  'I'll be ready. Did you remember I only have the one sun dress that could be considered at all dressy?' Maybe he'd let her out of her agreement, knowing she wouldn’t be suitably attired.

  'I'll buy you one from the shop downstairs.'

  'No.'

  'Katherine, be reasonable; you can't impress these South Americans if you're dressed in a cotton sundress. I want to impress, show them how successful Donovan Construction is so they'll have confidence in the firm. If you had brought one of your dresses from home that I paid for, you would wear it. What's the difference?'

  ‘The difference is that we are not married anymore. I can't accept an expensive dress from you.'

  'We are married. Hell, wear it tonight and send it back to me–at least you'll look the part this evening.' His voice was dangerously low and calm.

  Katie could feel the leashed energy as if it were a tangible thing. She tried to stare him down, but his eyes glittered down at her, his whole body poised as if to attack.

  'Very well.' She conceded defeat. 'But not from the dress shop downstairs. Can you imagine the rumors that would fly? I work here, after all.'

  He frowned, disliking to be reminded.

  'Take my credit card and buy the dress wherever you like. I'll get you at five,' he said.

  'I'll be downstairs then.' She moved stiffly into the bathroom to begin. She felt as if she were in a dream, one part of her going through the motions of her routine day, the other dwelling on the purchase she must make and the evening ahead.

  Michael was on the phone again when she left the room.

  The dress Katie bought was long white silk, with blue trim at the neck and hem. It lovingly followed the lines of her figure, dropping to a softly draped skirt that swayed seductively against her long legs as she walked. The neckline was deep and there were no sleeves. Her smooth, tanned skin was displayed to full advantage by the dress.

  She felt the familiar resignation settle over her as she entered the lobby. She had done this so many times before, yet had grown more and more to resent it. She'd much rather stay home, with a good book, or a TV show to watch. But she was committed, and she’d do her best.

  Michael was prompt stepping off the elevator at five and smiled when he saw her. His eyes ran down the length of her dress and Katie felt as if he'd touched her. She blushed and turned away, trying not to show her reaction.

  'You look lovely,' he murmured as he drew close. Reaching to take her hand, he threaded his fingers through hers and led the way to the rental car. It was a Lincoln, spacious and luxurious. At home, they had a BMW and a Mercedes. Was he trying something new in Florida?

  A
s they headed north on Highway One, over the long causeways and the other islands of the Keys, Michael told her about the prospects he was entertaining that evening. He revealed the terms of the contract proposed and what he wanted to accomplish during the visit, keeping the conversation firmly on business.

  It was just before eight when they reached the opulent Royal Miami Hotel, right on Miami Beach. Evening had darkened the sky, but the bright lights glittering from the row of hotels lit up the night and cloaked the beach in enchantment.

  'I've arranged a small reception, with dinner afterwards. There will be others besides the South American contingent,' he'd said earlier, so Katie knew what to expect when they reached the portico.

  The evening was like many others she'd spent with Michael—talking to his guests, making people feel comfortable, introducing strangers to each other, and circulating to make sure everyone had what he or she wanted. Katie handled it perfectly. Only she was aware that she didn't wish to be there. This was the life she'd forsaken months ago.

  As the evening passed, her anger grew, at herself, and at Michael. She should never have agreed to come. She’d known exactly what the evening would be like. She was a gracious hostess, doing her best to make the others attending the affair comfortable and happy.

  She was bored.

  Glancing at her watch, she frowned. It was after midnight already, and it would take three hours to get back to Key West. A touch of suspicion had her seeking Michael. It was getting very late; was he going to be able to drive to Key West? They should have left before now. She had to work in the morning. At this rate, she’d get a nap instead of a good night’s sleep.