Marriage Prey

by Annette Broadrick

  "It belongs to a friend. I feel fortunate to be able to stay here."

  "I can certainly understand that."

  "If you'll excuse me, I'll get my phone. Just have a seat," he said and left the room.

  She looked at the rattan furniture with its colorful, printed cushions and decided not to get sand and the sticky remains of her spilled drink on any of it. She took off her hat and carefully laid it on a nearby table.

  When she glanced into the mirror above the table, she made a face. Her nose was glowing like Rudolph's, her braid had more wisps hanging out than were still in the braid, and her clothes were hopelessly damp and disreputable.

  No wonder he was less than impressed with her. Wouldn't Cindi be dying laughing if she could witness this meeting! Robin would give most anything she could think of to have Cindi here with her. She would know just what to say and how to behave around Steve Anto-nelli from Los Angeles, California. Cindi's vivaciousness charmed everyone she met. Cindi didn't have a shy bone in her body, something that Robin had often envied about her.

  Robin turned away from the mirror. She didn't need a reminder of what she looked like. A large seascape caught her eye, and she wandered over to look at it, before walking over to the window to enjoy the view.

  She didn't hear Steve enter the room until he spoke. "Here you go. I have a ship's officer on the phone."

  Robin gratefully took the phone, feeling as if she'd been offered a lifeline before she sank beneath the waves of inadequacy and shyness that had taken over. She explained who she was and what had happened and asked what she could do to get back on board the ship.

  Her heart sank at the answer. After sending a message to Cindi, she thanked the ship's officer and ended the call. Steve had gone into the kitchen while she made the call, so she set the phone down on the glass table in front of the sofa, fighting tears. Of course she wasn't suiprised that they weren't going to come back and pick her up. She realized they had a schedule to keep.

  But until she had actually spoken to them, she hadn't wanted to face the fact that she was stranded here, stranded with a stranger who at best saw her as a nuisance.

  When he walked back into the room, Steve was eating a piece of fruit. "Everything okay?" he asked.

  She swallowed around the lump in her throat. ' 'Well, not really."

  "They can't pick you up?" he asked, with a hint of sympathy in his voice that almost caused her to lose what little control she had over the tears threatening to fall.

  "No. They are on a very strict schedule. They suggested that I meet them in St. Thomas on their way back north." She realized what that meant. "That's five days from now." She glanced down at her bag. Five days. How was she going to manage for five days with no more than what she'd carried in her bag? She chewed on her lower lip. "You mentioned that someone could give me a ride to St. Thomas?"

  He nodded. "Romano can take you whenever you need to go." He paused, as though searching for words. "I don't want to get too personal, but do you have any money with you?''

  Oh, no! She had been so concerned about clothes that she hadn't even thought of a need for cash. She shook her head ruefully. "I'm afraid not. I left my purse and valuables on the ship. Do you suppose I could arrange to send him money once I get home?"

  Steve cleared his throat, and his lips twitched, as though fighting a smile. "I wasn't thinking about Romano. He wouldn't charge you for the trip, because he goes over there on a regular basis. I was thinking about your attempting to stay in St. Thomas until the ship came back. Or getting a flight back home, rather than wait. Unless you can have money wired to you, I'm afraid you're going to be forced to stay here until time to meet your ship."

  He must think she was a real airhead. She hadn't gotten that far in her thinking. Of course he was right. Without money she was severely handicapped. She knew that she could call her parents and they would immediately arrange to have tickets and cash waiting for her. But that would mean she'd have to tell them what had happened to her.

  She didn't want to do that. If they ever found out that she'd gotten herself stranded on an island in the Caribbean, her entire family would say her actions proved that she needed someone to look after her.

  No. She would do almost anything rather than notify her parents, which meant staying here for the next few days.

  "I, uh, would really prefer not to notify my parents. They would get upset, and it really isn't necessary to do that, if, uh, you don't mind my staying here."

  "Do you still live at home?" he asked, his voice sounding a little strained.

  "Actually, I'm in my last year of college at UT in Austin. My parents have a ranch a few hours west of there."

  “Ah, a college student. Is this your first cruise?''

  She nodded. "And my last. I'd never realized I would feel so claustrophobic on board a ship that size." She sighed. "Except for all the trouble I'm causing you, I've got to admit that I much prefer being on solid ground."

  "You're not going to be any trouble."

  "I'll stay out of your way. I promise. You won't even know I'm here,"

  He laughed, his teeth flashing white in his darkly tanned face. "Ms. McAlister, there's no way I'm not going to know you're here. In the first place, there's no reason for you to avoid me. I promise, you're perfectly safe with me."

  "What do you do when you're not on vacation?" she asked, her curiosity outweighing her manners.

  "I'm a cop."

  Her eyes widened. "Really? How interesting. I don't believe I've ever met a policeman before."

  "I promise not to bore you with stories. One of the reasons I'm here is to forget about all of that."

  "I see. Then you've been a policeman a long time?"

  "Long enough," he replied shortly. That was a subject he obviously didn't want to discuss, which was fine with her.

  Robin wondered how old he was. He looked to be in his early thirties, probably at least ten years older than she was. Of course, there was nothing wrong with that. Her dad was ten years older than her mom and they had a great relationship.

  Oh my gosh. Why did I think of that? There was no reason to think that this man could possibly be interested in her. His attitude toward her had been similar to the way her brother, Jason, treated her most of the time—an amused tolerance that made her wish she'd met him under other circumstances. She found him to be very attractive and hoped, since she was going to be staying here with him, that he might be attracted to her, as well. Wouldn't her dad and brothers be screaming bloody murder at the idea! That thought was enough to cheer her enormously.

  "Why don't you let me show you to your room?" Steve said, and she realized she'd been lost in thought for several minutes. "I'm sure you'd like to shower and freshen up." He glanced at her bag. "Did you happen to bring anything else to wear?"

  "A few things, but not much. I'd only planned to be away a few hours."

  "I'll see what Carmela may be able to find for you. The owner's wife may have left some items here that could help out." "I'd appreciate it."

  He smiled and turned away. As she followed him down the hallway, he said, "Why don't you rest for a while? If you fall asleep, I'll wake you in time for dinner. You're in for a treat. Carmela is a wonderful cook. I hope you'll make yourself at home while you're here."

  Her heart lightened. He really was being very gracious about all of this. Maybe everything would work out all right.

  Four

  Steve paused in the long hallway in front of one of the slatted doors, opened it and stepped aside. "I believe you'll find everything you need." He nodded toward her foot and ankle. "That looks like a nasty scrape. I'll bring you some antibiotic cream to put on it."

  She glanced down in surprise. "Oh, with everything that's happened, I'd forgotten about my foot." She looked around the room. "Are you sure I should have this room? It's the master bedroom, isn't it?"

  He shook his head. "Just one of the guest rooms. I'll go talk to Carmela about finding some extra clothes for
you."

  Steve closed the door and forced himself to walk, not run, away from this new predicament.

  He really didn't mind having company for a few days, but the last type of visitor he needed was a schoolgirl with a face and body that could have easily graced the centerfold of a popular men's magazine and the innocent gaze of a fawn.

  If Ray ever heard about this, he would be laughing his fool head off.

  He found Carmela in the kitchen, preparing dinner. ' 'I guess you figured out we're going to have an extra visitor for the next few days."

  Carmela laughed. "It's good that you don't spend so much time alone. She's a very pretty girl."

  "Well, yeah, actually I did happen to notice that." They both laughed, although he knew his laugh was a little hollow. "I was wondering if you know of any extra women's clothing around here. All she has is whatever she's carrying in that bag, which can't be much."

  "I think I can find some things for her. She's taller than Mrs. Ed, but they both be slender. I'll go see what I can find for her." "Thanks."

  Next he went to the bathroom off his bedroom and found the antibiotic cream. He pretended not to notice that his heart rate hadn't slowed down much since he'd first spotted her on the beach. She was an unusually attractive woman, but it was her eyes that his thoughts kept remembering. Large, emerald-green and wide set, they were framed with dark, thick lashes and slightly tilted at the outer corners, with a trusting innocence shining from them that made his heart ache.

  When she smiled, he saw a flash of dimples in her cheeks. She hadn't smiled much, but he could understand she was in a situation that would disturb the most seasoned traveler. She reminded him of a freshly hatched chick, bewildered by its surroundings and desperately trying not to show it.

  He found it interesting that she didn't want to contact her family. He wondered why. In fact, there were many intriguing questions that came to his mind where she was concerned.

  He was going to enjoy getting to know her better.

  Robin watched the door close behind Steve before she looked around at the room where she would be spending the next few days.

  One wall had floor-to-ceiling windows with lush tropical plants on the other side of the glass, adding color and beauty to the room. Now she knew how Alice felt when she stepped through the looking glass.

  She wished there were some way for her to speak to Cindi. She wanted to reassure her that things could be so much worse than they'd turned out. She could just imagine that Cindi had freaked when she'd discovered that Robin wasn't on the launch when it returned to the ship. Hopefully, she'd received word by now that Robin was safe and would meet up with them in a few days.

  In the meantime she really wanted to get rinsed off.

  Still carrying her bag, she opened one of the doors and discovered a huge, walk-in closet. Unfortunately it was empty of everything but clothes hangers. She closed that door and opened the next one. A large bathroom made up of large ceramic tiles and mirrors and brass fixtures awaited her. There was a glass-enclosed shower as well as an oversize tub with water jets.

  She quickly unpacked her bag, shaking her head at the wrinkled condition of her slacks and the lack of any other clothes to wear. After she removed her shirt and shorts, she looked at the swimsuit she'd worn underneath and devoutly wished she'd worn underwear instead.

  Robin turned on the shower and finished undressing, then brushed out her hair. There were bottles of shampoo and conditioner sitting on the cabinet, she was relieved to discover, as well as several kinds of bath soap.

  She gathered them up and stepped beneath the wonderfully refreshing gush of water in the shower. She lathered and rinsed her hair, then worked conditioner through it, before thoroughly soaping her body.

  By the time Robin stepped out of the shower and wrapped the luxurious towel around her body, she felt much better. She towel dried her hair, combed the tangles out and searched for a hair dryer. It was on the shelf beneath the sink.

  This was one of the few times when Robin was thankful for her naturally wavy hair. By the time she finished drying it, her hair fell in waves around her face, neck and shoulders.

  She opened the door and went back into the bedroom. Carmela must have visited while she was in the shower. There was a stack of clothing on the bed as well as a tube of antibiotic cream.

  Still wrapped in the towel, she sat and propped her foot on her other knee. The scrape on the outside of her right foot and ankle no longer bled, but looked red and angry. She uncapped the cream and took her time rubbing it onto the wound. The cream felt soothing.

  Afterward, she stood and sorted through the stack.

  A caftan caught her eye, and she slipped it on. It was a swirl of orange, gold and rust colors that blended well with her hair color. The neckline was low and it was a little short for her height but it would serve for now.

  There were also some sleeveless T-shirts and some well-washed shorts that she thought would fit. At the bottom was a sleep shirt made of soft cotton.

  Meanwhile, she could have her own clothes laundered and use them as a change, as well. She stretched out on the bed, deciding to take Steve's advice and rest. Within minutes she was asleep.

  Steve tapped on her door sometime later. He hadn't heard anything from her room in more than two hours. When she didn't respond he quietly opened the door and saw her asleep on the bed.

  She looked like a sleeping princess in her flowing gown and her hair spread lustrously across her pillow. He stepped into the room and walked over to where she lay. Her skin looked silky smooth and a little gilded by the sun.

  Seeing her like this made him realize what a precarious situation they were in. No red-blooded male could possibly ignore her beauty, but what drew him as a man racked with cold to a blazing fire was her freshness and her innocence. He had forgotten such a thing existed, which was another sign that he'd been working in the field too long.

  The thin material of her caftan had slipped off her shoulder and exposed part of her breast. That's right. She'd been wearing a halter top—of a swimsuit, perhaps—when he first spotted her through his glasses. There was a strong chance she'd been wearing a bathing suit beneath her clothes instead of the usual panties and bra.

  Just what he didn't need to think about. His young visitor was wearing nothing beneath her robe. He could see himself struggling not to think about that for the next few days.

  "Robin?"

  She stirred. "Hmm?"

  "Dinner's ready. I figured you might be hungry by now."

  Her eyes drifted open, and she stared at him blankly for a moment before she suddenly sat up in bed. "Oh! I'm sorry. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

  "No problem. I'll meet you in the dining room in a few minutes."

  He did an about-face and strode out of the room before he followed the strong impulse he had to kiss the awakening beauty until she melted in his arms.

  Robin stretched and yawned, feeling as though she could sleep through the rest of the afternoon and evening. She slid off the bed and took one of the shirts and one of the pairs of shorts to the bathroom. She dug into her carryall and pulled out the second bathing suit, which was a very skimpy bikini. It would have to serve as undergarments. She'd bought it on impulse, thinking she could use it to sunbathe, but hadn't actually had the nerve to do so. After fastening it, she looked in the mirror, her eyes widening.

  The top was engineered in such a way that she looked much fuller, her breasts thrust upward and outward. It was very flattering to what she'd always considered her slight upper build. She stepped into the bottom that rode high on her hips, then finished dressing. After running her brush through her hair, she settled for a little lipstick, put on her shoes and left the bedroom.

  She saw Steve in the dining room, lighting a pair of tall yellow tapers on a small table sitting in the bow window of the room. An arrangement of golden flowers curved around the base of the candles. Orange place mats with brightly colored pottery were arranged across from e
ach other.

  She paused in the archway, a little shaken by the idea that she would be dining so intimately with this gorgeous hunk. His dark skin glistened in the candlelight. A white sleeveless T-shirt was a stark contrast to his tan and thick, black hair. He had on a pair of snug khaki shorts that stopped midthigh, the clothes revealing his well-developed muscles in both arms and legs.

  He wore a pair of thongs on his well-formed feet.

  "This looks so enchanting, I'm not sure that I'm not still dreaming," she said.

  He glanced up at the sound, of her voice, then blew out the match. ' 'If those are borrowed clothes, they certainly fit nicely," he said.

  She could feel herself blushing. "Yes, they're borrowed. My others have had a rough day."

  "If you'll give them to Carmela, she'll clean them for you."

  "I hate to put her to any trouble."

  "She won't think of it that way."

  They spoke lightly, easily, as though they were old friends, Robin thought, but the undercurrent of knowing they were strangers sharing a house caused a tension to creep into the room.

  "Here," he said, drawing out her chair, "have a seat."

  The dining alcove overlooked the patio area. A slow-moving fan stirred the air above the table. Chilled wine rested in a bucket of ice, and a sliced assortment of colorful fruit was artistically displayed in a bowl. Broiled fish and rice pilaf filled each large plate.

  "Wow," she breathed. "Do you eat like this every meal?''

  He grinned. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do. Carmela is a wonder. She's the best-kept secret the owner has. She could make a fortune working as a chef in the States."

  Once Steve sat across from her, he filled their wineglasses and filled their salad bowls.

  They ate for a while in silence. Robin hadn't realized how hungry she was until she started eating. She darted glances across the table from time to time, admiring her companion, making mental notes for a future time when all of this would seem like some fantasy she'd made up. Steve cleared his throat and said, "As long as we're going to be here together, we might as well get acquainted, don't you think?" She smiled. "All right."