As Hot As It Gets

by Jamie Sobrato

  Claire picked up a fork and stabbed a bite from her plate. “No trouble. I don’t tell this to guys I’m dating, but I actually attended culinary school for a short while.”

  “And you hide this from your dates because?”

  She took a bite. Not her best work, but not bad for what she’d had to work with. “I know how men are. You find out a woman likes to cook and suddenly you expect her to do it every night.”

  He tasted the omelet and moaned in appreciation. “Wow, this is delicious.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Aren’t you worried that you might actually impress me or something?”

  Claire glanced down at the magazine that was still open on the table. “According to this magazine, all I need to do is stay awake and wear sexy underwear, and I can’t help but impress you.”

  He smiled. “Probably true.”

  She flipped to another article, this one steamy fantasy letters from readers. “Listen to this,” she said. “‘How I made my flight attendant fantasy come true…’” She glanced up at Mason. “Do you have a flight attendant fantasy?”

  “Depends on the flight attendant.”

  “I’ll bet every guy does. Mile-high club and all.”

  He cocked an eyebrow. “Are you a member?”

  “Are you?”

  “I asked you first.”

  “Sadly, no. I think airplane bathrooms are just too disgusting to get romantic in.”

  “That’s what chartered jets are for.”

  Claire laughed. “My travel agent discount doesn’t cover chartered jets, unfortunately.”

  Mason was devouring his omelet like a starving man. When he finished it, he looked up and smiled. “You must like to travel, with your job.”

  “Some girls played house or Barbie dolls or school. I played airline stewardess and sailor.”

  Both eyebrows shot up this time. “Um, stewardess and sailor?”

  Claire rolled her eyes. “Not at the same time! I mean, I played stewardess because I saw them on TV and wanted to wear the cool uniform, and other times I played sailor because I was a big Popeye fan and I loved the ocean.”

  “And, of course, both careers offer the opportunity for travel,” he said smiling.

  “Of course.”

  “I bet you were a spitfire as a little girl,” he said, looking at her in a way that made her turn her attention to her omelet.

  Claire poked at it, suddenly not so hungry. Okay, so she was a complete spaz when it came to intimate conversation. So she was afraid of letting her real feelings hang out in front of the wrong person.

  Mason was definitely the wrong person.

  “I was daddy’s little princess, completely spoiled, always got whatever I wanted.”

  He nodded. “That explains a lot.”

  “Screw you.” Claire immediately regretted mentioning her father. It was a subject she avoided with almost everyone.

  “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He finished off his mimosa, then asked, “What about your Dad? Is he still around?”

  “Actually, no. He passed away recently in a car accident.” Claire willed her voice to remain casual, free of emotion, just the way she wanted to keep their conversation.

  His expression darkened. “I’m sorry. That must have been really tough for you.”

  She shrugged. “That’s life, right?”

  “You don’t have to act like this around me, you know. I expect you to have actual feelings about your family.”

  “Right.”

  “What about your mother? Does she live in Phoenix?”

  “She died when I was ten. Breast cancer.”

  Mason frowned, silent for a few moments, while Claire struggled to recover the carefree feeling she’d had a few minutes ago.

  “That must have made your father passing away even more difficult,” he finally said.

  She was such an idiot. Tears were welling up in her eyes, and she was about to start bawling like a baby in front of the guy she was trying to screw out of her system.

  “Are you okay?” He stood up and came over to her, sat down beside her and held her arm when she tried to scoot away.

  She felt her lower lip quivering. She was the biggest idiot on earth. “Yes, of course I am.”

  “No you’re not.”

  “I’m just losing my freaking mind, that’s all.” She was starting to blubber now, out of nowhere, like the soon-to-be mental patient she was.

  Mason wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close, and she found herself resting her head on his shoulder, feeling a lot more comforted than she would have liked by his embrace.

  She was taking whimpery little breaths now, like a toddler who’d missed nap time. Maybe she hadn’t let herself mourn her father for as long as she’d needed to, but why it was all coming out now was beyond her.

  After a few minutes, she’d calmed down, and she pulled away from Mason. “Sorry,” she said, wiping at her eyes.

  “It’s okay. You’re supposed to be upset about things like this.”

  “I’m not supposed to become a basket case over morning-after omelets.” She stood up and cleared the plates off the coffee table.

  “I’ll get those,” Mason protested, but she was already on the way to the kitchen.

  “You get the glasses,” she called over her shoulder.

  Once she’d put the dishes in the sink, she turned to him. “I should go,” she said. “You probably have work to do today, right?”

  “Yeah, unfortunately I do have to go to the office for a while.”

  He pulled her to him and kissed her on the forehead. “Why don’t you relax and enjoy your vacation today, and maybe we could meet up again tonight? Say around dinnertime?”

  Claire couldn’t help but smile at the thought of another night with Mason, doing more of what they’d already done. No, she definitely wasn’t cured of him yet.

  “Sounds good,” she said. “How about you come get me around six?”

  “Let’s make it five-thirty so we’ll have plenty of time for a little pre-dinner appetizer, if you know what I mean.”

  Did she ever. Claire sighed into Mason’s chest, marveling at the roller coaster of emotions he managed to evoke in her. Anger, desire, giddiness, more desire, melancholy, excitement…

  If they didn’t work out a cure soon, she wasn’t sure what she’d do with herself. Maybe find a nice white jacket and a quiet little room with padded walls, where she could go absolutely crazy without harming any bystanders.

  MASON WAS PRETTY SURE e-mail would be the downfall of civilization. He felt like he spent more time reading and responding to it than doing anything else, and now that he’d wasted an entire morning answering business e-mail, he’d had enough.

  The drudgery of it had been oddly soothing, the one thing that took his mind off of Claire. He’d spent the weekend holding her at arm’s length emotionally as they stayed anything but arm’s length in bed.

  And having her break down in front of him over breakfast had thrown him for a loop. He’d ached for her, and he’d found himself wanting to see more of her inner landscape. What made Claire the woman she was fascinated him a hell of a lot more than he would have liked. It reminded him of why he liked to keep things simple, uncomplicated, easy.

  A handful of a woman like Claire was anything but.

  He gave himself a mental shake and forced his mind back on work.

  Today his first order of business should have been firing Mike D’Amato and tracking down everyone involved in the whole dominatrix business. But he wasn’t ready to deal with it yet. He wasn’t mentally focused enough, and he needed someone to bounce ideas off. He was tempted to find Claire and use her as his sounding board, but he feared he’d lose all focus again if she were anywhere nearby.

  He was just closing his e-mail program when the reception desk buzzed him. Mason pressed the intercom button. “Yeah?”

  “Mr. Cayhill is here to see you.”

  “Send him back.”

&nb
sp; A few seconds later, there was a tap on the door.

  “Come on in.”

  Carter stepped inside and closed the door behind him. “Hey, you have time to look over the entertainment schedule for the next season with me?”

  “Sure.” Regardless of whatever else was going wrong at Escapade, at least Mason could always be assured the entertainment was taken care of. Carter had handled his job as entertainment director for the resort flawlessly from day one.

  Carter sat down across from him. “You’re looking a little stressed, man. What’s going on?”

  Was Claire really getting to him so much that casual observers could tell he was losing his mind?

  Mason shrugged. His first instinct was to tell Carter about his problem with Mike D’Amato, but then he heard himself blurt, “Woman trouble.”

  “Ah, that hot little redhead I saw you with over the weekend?”

  Mason couldn’t recall having seen Carter, but it was a small world at the resort, and it was hard to go more than a few days without spotting just about everyone he knew.

  “She’s a serious source of trouble.”

  Carter laughed. “Most of them are, you know.”

  “Actually, there’s nothing serious going on there,” Mason said, backtracking. He suddenly wasn’t interested in discussing Claire with anyone. “The real problem is here at the resort. Maybe you could give me some advice.”

  “Sure, man. What’s up?”

  “Have you heard any wild rumors going around about dominatrix services for hire here at Escapade?”

  Carter blinked, then after recovering from his speechless state, he laughed. “That’s crazy.”

  “I got my information from a trustworthy source,” Mason said.

  He sobered. “Okay, I’ll sniff around and see what I can turn up. It has to be an inside job, since we’re the only ones living on the island full-time.”

  “Right. I’m just pissed off that my own employees would risk ruining the image of the resort this way.” Mason hesitated, not sure if he should tell Carter everything he knew.

  But if Carter was going to help rout out the problem employees, he’d need all the information he could get. “Listen,” he said. “There’s more. You familiar with Mike D’Amato, the bartender at the Cabana Club?”

  “Sure, I know him.”

  “He appears to be running this thing. I’ve also got a physical description of a woman involved in it, but no name yet.”

  “So how do you want to handle them?”

  “I’ll let our security guys decide what to do with Mike. He’ll be fired, of course, but on top of that, I’m not sure what they might be able to do to get him to talk.”

  Carter shook his head. “Never surprises me the things people do. But don’t you worry, because if anyone can get to the bottom of this, it’s me. People trust me—they’ll talk.”

  “Thanks, Carter. I really appreciate your help.”

  “Why don’t you let me talk to Mike D’Amato before you fire him?”

  “I don’t know. I’m afraid he’ll run if he figures out we’re on to him.”

  “Hey, it’s your call. If you give me the physical description of the other woman, I’ll see what I can do to track her down.”

  “Security’s on that, too. They’ve got a photo database of all the resort employees, so it’s just a matter of time until they get a match.”

  “All right, man. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do to help.”

  “I will, thanks.”

  Mason felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. With Carter keeping his ear to the ground, there wasn’t any reason for him to dwell on the problem. People were handling it, and if there was one thing Mason knew was crucial to good management, it was delegating responsibility.

  “You sure you feel like talking business right now?” Carter asked.

  “Absolutely. What’ve you got for me?”

  He listened as Carter went over the planned events for the next season and highlighted problem areas he was still working on. But Mason’s mind wandered after a while, and he found himself thinking about Claire again.

  About his comment to Carter—woman trouble.

  No two words could have summed up Claire more succinctly, and yet, they nagged at him. Why had she been the first subject he blurted out, when he hadn’t even wanted to talk about her?

  Why was he letting her get under his skin? And if she did, then what?

  Then she’d walk away, cured of her desire for his services in bed, and he’d be left here wanting more. Theirs was a no-win situation, and he’d be best off remembering that fact.

  Claire was a temporary fling, nothing more.

  By the time Carter was finishing up his report, Mason had become preoccupied with more than just his problems with Claire. His mind had wandered straight into the bedroom, where all his energy with her should have been focused. No more intimate conversation, if he could help it. He’d focus on the task at hand—curing Claire before all hell broke loose.

  11

  CLAIRE SPENT HER FIRST free day on the island trying to work out the tension in her shoulders. She’d gone to the spa for a massage, a manicure and a pedicure. She’d walked along the beach enjoying the sunshine—while trying to avoid the many single guys out looking for easy sex—and she’d read a paperback novel beside the pool.

  But try as she might, she hadn’t managed to put Mason out of her thoughts for more than a minute or two. And he was most definitely the source of all the tension in her shoulders.

  She’d enjoyed herself partly because she liked traveling alone and partly because Escapade was a fabulous resort, but she couldn’t kid herself. She’d been looking forward to tonight like crazy, hoping it would be the night that would finally do the trick—but mostly just looking forward to it.

  A knock on the door alerted Claire to Mason’s arrival. She did a quick check in the mirror, mussed her hair a bit, and adjusted her satin robe so that it gaped open ever-so-enticingly in the front.

  There. Now he’d have no choice but to attack her at the door.

  She’d already showered, put on her makeup and laid out an outfit for the evening, but first she’d made sure to be prepared for the pre-dinner appetizer he’d mentioned.

  Mason was a little early, but that was okay.

  She smiled as she opened the door, grasping the loosely tied belt of her robe and preparing to pull it free so that her robe would fall all the way open.

  “I’ve been waiting—” The words died on her lips when she saw her best friend standing in the hallway, Mason nowhere in sight. “Lucy! What are you doing here?”

  “I might ask you the same thing,” Lucy said, blinking at Claire’s barely dressed appearance so close to dinnertime.

  Shock quickly gave way to giddiness at having such an unexpected pleasant surprise, and the two women embraced. Claire hadn’t realized how much she’d missed Lucy until now. With no siblings of her own, and her parents gone, Lucy had become not just her best friend but also her family.

  When they finished hugging, Claire tugged her robe closed tighter and stepped aside for her friend to come in, then shut the door behind her.

  “You’re supposed to be running the travel agency,” Claire said, hoping to divert attention from her own questionable behavior.

  Lucy raised one eyebrow and crossed her arms over her chest. “I left it in the capable hands of Gill.”

  “But, why are you here?”

  “I’ve been telling Judd to bring me here since before the resort opened. When he wrapped up a case this weekend sooner than expected, and you made your little unexpected voyage here, I finally convinced him we needed to show up and support his brother’s latest business venture.”

  “So you came to keep an eye on me?” Claire said, feeling oddly flattered at the notion.

  “No, we came to have a much-needed vacation,” she answered, then smiled sheepishly. “And to keep an eye on you.”

  “Well, I
’m glad you’re here, regardless.”

  “Tropical Storm Macy almost kept us away, but here we are. Now tell me who you were expecting to show up at your door dressed like this.”

  “Room service.”

  “Right.”

  “Where’s Judd?” Claire asked.

  “He’s off looking for Mason.”

  “Does Mason know you’re here?”

  Lucy smiled, looking mischievous. “It’s a surprise for him, too.”

  “You look great,” Claire said. “Did you get highlights or something?”

  Lucy’s light brown hair sparked with silvery blond streaks that made her warm brown eyes look even warmer. Ever since she’d met Judd, she had the habit of looking ridiculously happy, but today, she was positively glowing.

  She smiled and ran her fingers through her wavy shoulder-length hair. “I went to your stylist on Saturday. He did something amazing that cost way too much money, but you’re changing the subject.” She narrowed her eyes at Claire. “Who were you expecting at your door just now?”

  “Are you sure that’s all there is? Did you get some sun this weekend?”

  “Would you stop with my appearance? I didn’t get any sun, okay!”

  “Okay, fine. I was expecting Mason. Does that make you happy?”

  Lucy sighed, not looking nearly as smug as Claire had expected. “What’s the deal with that dominatrix service you told me about?”

  “Mason’s investigating, and I’m helping. Sort of. I think we’ve found the guy who’s orchestrating the thing, but so far no one is talking.”

  “Good thing Judd’s here then. He’ll get it all figured out, and that’ll be one less thing Mason has to worry about.”

  “Is that how you really lured Judd here?”

  “No, believe it or not. He wanted to come even before I told him about the service.”

  Claire thought of her and Mason’s costumed foray into private investigating and laughed. “It’s a good thing he’s here, because Mason and I aren’t exactly pros at this P.I. stuff.”

  Lucy smiled, oh-so-casually. “What’s going on between you two?”

  “Why don’t you ask your brother-in-law that question?”

  “Will his answer be different from yours?”