by Lily Harlem
“Good. Though we have you well insured—your body that is.” As I spoke, the small plane suddenly kicked up a gear and hurtled forward. I was pressed back in my seat and gripped the armrests. I was a seasoned traveler, but still, takeoff always freaked me out.
“Though how effective a belt is during a plane crash is negligible,” Dustin said.
“What?”
“I hear small planes are ten times more likely to crash than big commercial ones, and really, is a thin bit of fabric gonna save you?”
“Why the hell would you say that?” I glared at him. “You’re not even supposed to say the ‘c’ word when you’re on a plane.”
“What, crash?”
“Yes,” I hissed. “It’s bad luck.”
He shrugged and set about uncurling a pair of headphones. “Just stating a fact.”
“Why, when we’re just about to…” I held my breath as the plane lurched into the air. It seemed there was quite a side wind. “Shit, that was a bit…” My stomach rolled.
“The forecast mentioned a weather front was coming. I reckon this wind will be worse over the Gulf. I hope we land okay.”
I swallowed. Damn him. Now I had visions of us touching down in a storm, rain and hail pelting the small plane, playing havoc with the radar, the wings skimming the runway as we were blown and bounced around, tipped left and right.
“Jesus, you really need to relax a bit, sweet cheeks,” he said, staring at me. “You’ll give yourself a heart attack.”
I opened my mouth but no words came out. What a jerk.
He rubbed his hand around his roughly stubbled jawline and frowned. “Shit, sorry. I was forgetting about Mr. Gunner. I shouldn’t have said that so…flippantly.”
I pursed my lips, turned away from him and stared out the window. We were breaching the fluffy white clouds and bright blue was dominating the horizon.
“It’ll be fine,” he said. “The landing.”
I took a deep breath and was relieved to feel the plane leveling out.
“And planes fly in light winds all the time,” he said, “so don’t get your lacy panties in a twist.”
“I am not getting my panties in a twist.” I turned back to him. “And kindly refrain from bringing my panties into conversation ever again.”
He held up his hands as if in surrender. “Whatever you say, boss.”
The way he said boss was full of mocking, almost with a laugh tagged onto it. The guy really didn’t take me seriously. Well, he’d have to when my father was sitting next to me, on my side, agreeing with my plans to save the team he’d worked so many years to put at the top of the NHL.
Then we’d see who was laughing and who was boss. Dustin “Speed” Reed would have that stupid smirk wiped right off his face when he found out he was just too damn expensive for the Vipers.
Chapter Five
“What do you mean you’re going to Orlando now?” I stared in disbelief at my father, who stood on the runway at the base of the airplane steps I’d just descended. He had his usual battered suitcase in his hand, one I’d bought him many years ago and he claimed to still love.
“Buttercup, I’m so sorry. But my cardiologist called this morning, he wants me back for a few more tests. Seems my blood work last week wasn’t quite right.”
I propped my suitcase up, stepped past Giselle and gripped his free hand. My head spun. I thought he was getting better. On the mend. He certainly looked well. “What do you mean not quite right? What’s wrong? Oh God, can they fix it?”
He smiled and leaned down, kissed me on the cheek. “You worry too much, Gina. I’m sure it’s nothing. They just want to do another heart tracing and switch some of my meds. I could see one of the local doctors, but I’d rather see Dr. Hamilton, he’s been with me from day one of all this heart trouble.” He dropped his bag and took both of my hands in his. “Everything will be fine.”
“Are you sure?” My own heart was racing.
“Yes, of course.”
“But when are you coming back?” I glanced at Giselle, who was twirling one of her long auburn curls around her finger and eyeing up Dustin. “I think I should come with you. To Orlando. That would be for the best. Yes, I’ll come back now. Come to the appointment with you.”
Dad laughed. “Giselle will come with me, and besides you’ve only just got here. And, my dearest, you look exhausted. You’ve been working too hard.”
“Only the way you used to.” I couldn’t help a pout. Why couldn’t I go with him if I wanted to?
“Yes, probably, in which case we need to make sure you don’t head down the same route as me. You need proper downtime. Vacations, time out. Give your body a chance to recharge. And since you’re here…” He raised his eyebrows, crinkling his brow. “You should stay and enjoy some rest and relaxation. The villa is fully stocked. The cleaner was just finishing off when we left, so it’s all ready. It will do you good.”
I sighed and thought about all of the things I needed to discuss with him—things that would wait only a week at the most. Decisions had to be made and although he’d given me the power to run the Vipers as I saw fit, I wasn’t naïve enough to think I was an expert. I wasn’t, I was a novice. I needed his input, even if just in the form of conversations.
“And when are you coming back?” I asked. “To continue your recovery.”
“In a few days.” He released my hand and reached for his wife’s.
She smiled and stepped up close to his side. She was wearing a short, fitted dress that was splattered with bright-pink flowers. Her shoes and purse matched, as did her lipstick.
“Hello, Giselle,” I said, with a curt nod.
“Gina, good to see you.” Her smile broadened. “And I really am sorry that we have to go. But Fergal’s health has to be the top priority.”
“Yes, I agree. Absolutely.” Why did she manage to make it sound as though I didn’t think it was top priority? Of course it was.
“But the weather has been gorgeous here,” she went on, “and it’s set to stay like that, despite this breeze coming in. So you really could have a nice break away from your new venture.” She glanced at Dustin again, who had crossed his arms over his chest and was chewing on a piece of gum. “It must be exhausting being in charge of all of these big, burly men. Really, very tiring, I don’t know how you’re managing it. One is enough for me.” She giggled.
Dad dropped a kiss onto her head. “Well, I don’t know about burly.” He laughed. “Come on, we should go. The captain is waiting. But, Gina, stay, and I’ll see you in a few days. I’ll give you a call.” He turned to Dustin. “Feel free to use the villa too, for a bit of downtime. It’s plenty big enough, and we’ll have that talk your agent mentioned when I get back.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, sir, I’ll just return with you now. We could talk on the plane.”
“Oh, I don’t think my husband should be worrying about Viper business until he’s seen the specialist,” Giselle said with a worried shake of her head. “I mean really, once he starts down that train of thought his blood pressure will be up and he’ll be getting those silly palpitations again.” She rested her hand over his chest. “So I really don’t think that would be wise, Mr. Reed.”
“Palpitations?” I asked. “That doesn’t sound good.”
“Only a few, at er, crucial moments…” Dad glanced at Giselle, who nibbled the corner of one of her long bright-pink fingernails and stared up at the plane. “And I told you,” he went on, “it’s probably nothing. However, there is no point messing about with these things.”
Giselle began to climb onboard. “Come on, darling. Let’s go and get you all sorted and then you’ll be good as new and ready for action.”
“Mr. Gunner,” Dustin said, stepping past me. “It really won’t take long.”
“I’m sorry, son,” Dad said. “Just how it goes when you get old. Plans have to be undone. But this one is just delayed, not canceled. If there’s still an issue with your contract when I return
from Orlando, and if you’re still here soaking up the ambience of Honeysuckle Key, then we’ll sit and have a discussion over a beer.”
Dustin let his arm fall to his side. His mouth opened and closed.
I couldn’t help the pleasure it gave me to see him at a loss for words for once. Now what could he say? He wasn’t getting his own way, despite his sneaky plan to get to my father’s ear. I bet that didn’t happen too often. Not in his me-me-me world.
A smirk spread on my face.
He glanced at me. Frowned.
I didn’t care that he knew what I was thinking.
“Bye, Dad,” I said, my voice a little too light. “See you in a few days and good luck, let me know how you get on.”
“I will, buttercup. Now you have fun. And don’t worry, I’m fit as a fiddle.”
The copilot, Edmond, appeared and made a fuss over his passengers. He tipped his hat to me just before the door was shut.
The engines were running a little faster now, beginning to rev. My hair licked over my cheeks.
“We should get off the runway,” Dustin said with a scowl, then turned and marched toward the small wooden hut that functioned as an airport arrival lounge.
Nothing on the island was overly fussy. The people had a make-do attitude and it seemed to work for them. It was rare to see locals without smiles on their faces.
“There’s a hotel in the town,” I said, catching up to him, my suitcase rattling behind me. “I have the telephone number at the villa. You can come back with me then call and book a room, stay there.”
“What?” He stopped and turned to face me.
“The hotel. In the town. You can stay there until my father returns and you have your little chat.”
“Why the hell would I do that?”
I huffed. “Why the hell do you think?” I put my hand on my hip.
“I can’t think of any damn reason to book a hotel when I’ve just been invited to stay at a fancy villa for the next few days.”
“I’ll tell you why, because I’ll be there.” I flicked my hand between us. “And it’s my villa, not yours.”
He slipped his shades to the top of his head. Part of me wanted to stare into his angry eyes, show him that I wouldn’t back down, but the sound of my father’s plane shooting down the runway caught my attention and I watched it zip along and take to the air. The wheels quickly disappeared into the undercarriage as it tipped to the right and headed for the mainland.
“You really want me to go and stay in some damn hotel?” he repeated slowly. “Until your father comes back?”
“Yes.”
I turned, flashed my ID at the usual guy who sat in arrivals and headed toward the Jeep Dad had left in the lot. The keys would be in the ignition, waiting for me.
I’d annoyed Dustin that was for sure. He wasn’t used to being told what to do. He wasn’t used to not being wanted. Well, I didn’t want him. I wanted peace and quiet without a big hunk of a guy looming over me, distracting me, blowing hot and cold and calling me stupid names.
That was what I wanted.
*
The villa was the same as it always was. It never changed and I liked that. It was as familiar as home and a place that housed many happy memories. From the long gravel driveway with the bright-orange flowers dotted on lush bushes, the naked cherub in the central fountain outside the front door that used to make me giggle as a small girl, to the soft furniture and sea breeze, it was definitely a place designed for privacy and rest and relaxation.
Well, the relaxation part would happen real soon hopefully.
I wandered in. Dustin followed, still in silence, the way he’d been the entire journey as I’d navigated the dusty tracks. Not bothering to take my suitcase in my bedroom or freshen up, I went straight to the small book we kept in the hallway that had the local contact numbers.
“Here,” I said, handing him the book after he’d dropped his soft leather bag on the floor. “The Hotel Grand. You should really have booked before you left if you were planning on a few days visit.”
He kind of grunted and took the book from me, tugged his iPhone from his back pocket and keyed in the numbers.
I folded my arms, watched as he dialed and then listened as he was quickly told the hotel was full.
“It seems they have a rush on,” he said after ending the call. “No room at the inn.”
He didn’t seem in the slightest bit put out, instead wandering past me into the large open-plan living area.
“But hey,” he said with a smile. “This place sure is big enough for two. You’ll hardly know I’m here.” He placed his hands on his hips and looked around, nodding approvingly. “I don’t know why you were concerned.”
Damn, he’d got his own way. I couldn’t exactly kick him out onto the street. There was only one hotel on the island, and if it was full, it was full.
Perhaps a lounger on the private beach out back? Mmm? I’d loan him a pillow. I could stretch to that.
But as for hardly knowing he was there? The guy filled up much more space than just his physical presence. It was his scent, his rough voice, how he seemed to change the electricity in the atmosphere in a way that spiked the hairs on the back of my neck and made my body so damn aware that he was breathing the same air as me.
And what about the one thing we hadn’t mentioned. The elephant in the room.
That kiss in New York.
Well, I wasn’t going to bring it up. He was the one who’d kissed me, after all. He’d backed me up against the wall, loomed over me and taken possession of my mouth without even asking. Taken advantage, if I was honest, since I was a little tipsy at the time.
I nibbled my bottom lip, remembering how his mouth had felt on mine. It was urgent and desperate, hungry, angry and passion-infused. I hadn’t imagined all of that. No way.
I turned, irritated that I’d been thinking about him in a nonprofessional manner, and stalked into my bedroom, dragging my suitcase behind me. I’d put on my vacation gear, get out of these hot jeans and go and dip my toes in the sea. I didn’t like to swim. I had a blown-out-of-proportion fear of shark attacks that stopped me from enjoying even a splash in the waves. But I liked to cool my feet in the water, sink my toes into the sand and watch the waves rolling toward me.
Perhaps I’d go for a nice long walk too. Visit the market and get some of the coconut-spiced candy that reminded me of my childhood vacations here. That way I could avoid Dustin and the roller coaster of emotions his mood swings subjected me to. Why couldn’t it have been Phoenix or Ramrod who’d wanted to come and chat with my father? One of the players who was polite and respectful and wouldn’t have made me want both to slap him and kiss him.
Kiss him? I didn’t. God, what was wrong with me? It must be the stress and the heat.
Ten minutes and a quick shower later, I flung open the French doors of my bedroom and stepped onto the decking area wearing a vivid purple bikini and a black sarong. I held a soft cotton purse that was a lurid citrus-orange color, not my favorite, and black thongs.
A hummingbird was giving attention to a tub of pink lilies and I paused to watch as I piled my hair on top of my head. I recalled a time when Dad had helped me set up syrup feeders for them, and I’d spent a whole holiday recording their movements and markings, giving them all names. I loved the hummingbirds.
A movement out of the corner of my eye caught my interest. It was Dustin down on the beach at the shoreline, about fifty meters away. I stilled, stepped behind the fronds of a palm into the shade and watched him.
He had his back to me and was undressing. His shoes already discarded, he tugged down his soft jeans, dropped them to one side and then peeled off his t-shirt.
I swallowed. Damn, the guy was thickly muscled. I knew he was big, but the round balls of his shoulders, the roped tendons down his spine, the bulge of his biceps told me that he was huge. I’d presumed some of his size was hockey padding or clothes or something, but no, what I’d felt when I’d clung to him
in that hallway, why he’d made me feel so small—it was because he was enormous. I was small next to him.
Suddenly he slipped off his boxer briefs exposing tight, round buttocks, the skin a fraction paler than the rest of him.
I gasped, put my hand over my mouth and, although the beach was privately owned, couldn’t help a quick glance left and right to make sure it was empty.
It was.
I returned my attention to the taut butt before me. Dustin was running now, into the surf, galloping through the waves stark naked, his skin glistening as the water splashed over him.
Several big steps and he leaped into the air, curled himself over and I watched, mesmerized, as his buttocks were the last thing to disappear beneath the dark surface.
My heart was racing. Really? Naked swimming. He’d only been here a few minutes and he was diving into the sea in the buff. I was part horrified, part full of admiration. I could never swim in the sea like that, dive in as though I belonged there. It was too damn scary. What was lurking in the hidden depths?
I scanned the waves, looking for him. Waiting for his head to appear.
It didn’t.
I stepped from the fronds and into the sunshine.
Shit. A shark had got him, or a ray or something lethal. It must have. He’d been down about ten seconds at least.
I darted my gaze around, tried to see over the breaking rollers. He’d really gone. Quickly I rushed to the edge of the decking. Went on my tiptoes, scanning the wider horizon.
Fuck.
In a sudden rush I sped onto the sand. It was burning hot but I hardly felt it. I reached his abandoned clothes, set my hand over my eyes to shield them from the sun and peered into the distance.
Suddenly he burst upward, not too far out at sea. His chest and shoulders were shining like polished bronze and his super-short hair sparkling with trapped drops. He stood waist deep and looked my way.
“What the hell are you doing?” I called, scanning his arms for signs of shark attack, checking the water for a slick of blood.
“Painting a fucking picture,” he shouted. “What the hell does it look like?”