Life Is A Beach (Mills & Boon Silhouette): Life Is A Beach / A Real-thing Fling

by Pamela Browning

  “It’s precisely because she doesn’t want me that I want her. I enjoy the chase, Fleck, and I get high on the challenge. If Azure would let her hair loose from that tight knot she wears, and if she’d wear something more suited to the climate, she’d be a knockout, a real babe.”

  “Sheesh,” Fleck said, shaking his head as he scooped up a forkful of food. “You sound like a man who knows what he wants.”

  Lee pushed his chair away from the table. “At the moment, unfortunately, I’m a man who can’t have it. Sure you don’t want to change your mind and go ashore?”

  “Thanks, but I’m going to have some more of these shrimp and grits. They don’t make ’em any better than this.”

  As if by magic, a waiter appeared out of nowhere and began to spoon more of the delicacy onto Fleck’s plate. Lee, after draining the last of his orange juice, grabbed the letter from his father and headed below decks to his stateroom where he surprised Miguel, one of the newly hired stewards, delivering a bag of laundry. Lee relieved Miguel of the laundry and went inside his stateroom, where he tossed his father’s letter on a pile of similarly unopened ones and chucked the laundry bag on the bed. It wasn’t until after Lee showered that he discovered that the laundry bag was full of Fleck’s clothes, not his, and that his own dresser drawers were empty of tropical-weight garments.

  He donned a sleeveless blue, softly faded tank top and shorts from the pile of clean laundry in the bag, smiling at the way he looked in the cabin’s full-length mirror. Well, the Miami Beach lifestyle was famously casual, and this outfit would keep him cool.

  Or “kewl,” as Fleck would say.

  THE SAMOA’S LAUNCH DELIVERED Lee to the marina where, wearing mirrored sunglasses and a nondescript canvas hat pulled down low over his face, he slunk past the waiting groupies while they all sidled up to Mario, his handsome first mate, who was sworn to secrecy and adept at diversionary tactics. It was around ten o’clock in the morning when Lee bounded up the steps to the Rent-a-Yenta office two at a time.

  The door hung open, and he intended to barge in and demand an explanation from Paulette for the beach debacle. Then he realized with a start that the woman who was sitting in the alcove on the far side of the room was not Paulette Parham. It was Azure, and his video, the one that was supposed to introduce him to other clients of the dating service, was playing on the television set.

  He strolled through the open door. “Ahem,” he said and was rewarded when Azure’s head turned abruptly. He leaned casually against the wall, stuffing his hands down in the pockets of Fleck’s rumpled Hawaiian shorts.

  “You!” she said, leaping up from the chair.

  Judging from the go-eat-worms look she gave him, she was singularly unimpressed. Well, Fleck’s clothes weren’t much in the way of sartorial splendor, he thought wryly, and the old running shoes he wore had holes in the toes.

  “I thought you were going to say that you didn’t recognize me with my clothes on,” he quipped, deciding that humor was the way to save face in this situation.

  “No smart remarks, please. I recognize you, that’s for sure. What are you doing here?”

  “I’m a Rent-a-Yenta client. Enjoying my video?”

  Her chin shot up. “I’m only interested in the lead-in information, and not because of any personal interest. I’m helping Paulette with some filing.” Two spots of color had appeared on her cheekbones, or was that sunburn?

  “Oh? And you decided to file my video in the VCR, right? With the button in the on position?”

  She punched the button to turn off the machine, which spat out the video cassette. The cassette got tossed unceremoniously onto Paulette’s desk, and Azure pointedly moved to a table in the middle of the floor and began collating papers that were stacked on it in little piles, balancing on high heels that showed off the slim curves of her ankles.

  “Do you have real business here, or are you only being annoying?” she asked, looking flustered. Today her hair was arranged in a neat French braid, and she wore a dark skirt and a crisply starched white long-sleeved blouse—hardly the attire for a South Florida morning in June.

  “I stopped by to see Paulette.” He slowly eased himself off the wall and moved closer.

  “Paulette has gone down to the corner deli to buy bagels.”

  “Wonderful. You wouldn’t happen to know if she’s getting poppyseed? They’re my favorite.”

  Paulette breezed into the office, did a double-take when she saw Lee, and slowly set a white paper bag down on the table.

  “As it happens, I didn’t buy poppyseed. I bought sundried tomato and pumpernickel, plus two kinds of cream cheese. You’re welcome to join us for bagels and coffee, Lee. I’ve invited Uncle Nate, too.”

  Azure cocked her head to one side. “Wait a minute, Paulette, I’m trying to get rid of this guy.”

  “Why not sit down and enjoy a cup of coffee and a bagel with him?”

  “I’ve suddenly remembered that I have sightseeing to do,” Azure said. She grabbed her handbag off a chair. “Give my love to Uncle Nate. Catch you later, Paulette.”

  Before Lee could react, Azure had all but run out of the office and was clattering down the stairs in those ridiculously high heels.

  “Uh-oh,” said Paulette. “Looks like she’s not interested in being a match for you. On the other hand, I have a client who lives in my building. Mandi is her name. I bet she’d jump at the chance.”

  “I met her at the wedding. Sorry, but she isn’t my type.”

  “You think Azure is your type? Well, unless you’re into workaholics with no sense of humor and little idea of how to have a good time, I’m afraid you’re wrong.”

  “We’ll see about that,” Lee said, and then he was off at a fast lope.

  He’d find Azure, wherever she’d gone. He’d always enjoyed a challenge, and Azure O’Connor certainly was one.

  AZURE, WISHING BELATEDLY that she’d brought clothes more suited to the tropics, limped in her painfully tight high heels along a row of shops on Lincoln Mall. Jewelry shops, shoe stores, dress boutiques—all offering expensive wares in the most outlandishly bright colors. She could afford to buy those things, but the practical side of her balked at buying stuff that she’d never wear again.

  The weather was hot, even for June, and beads of perspiration formed on her forehead. The stifling, humid air seemed to congeal in her unsuitable clothes, making them so soggy that they clung to her skin. Seeking relief, she ducked under a store awning and yanked an envelope out of her purse, then stood fanning herself with it as she scoped out a skimpy yellow crochet bikini on a mannequin in the shop window. She would wear something like that if she lost a few pounds, but she’d nix the yellow snakeskin boots shown with it, ditto the feather boa.

  “That suit would look great on you,” said a familiar voice, and she whirled to see Lee standing with his hands casually balanced on the waistband of his shorts. He was smiling in a way that was beginning to be all too familiar.

  “Why do you keep turning up wherever I go?”

  “I’d like to get to know you better.” His eyes were sparkling with flashes of silver, and they were frankly admiring.

  His admiration unnerved her. She swung around and out into the stream of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk. “There’s no point in furthering our acquaintance.”

  He followed her and, to her chagrin, kept talking. “Why not? We might be meant for each other.”

  Damn these shoes, anyway. They hobbled her so that she couldn’t walk fast enough to leave him behind. “I’m not in the market for a relationship. I’m going home to Boston in a few days.”

  “So? What could be wrong with exploring Miami Beach with me for a while?”

  She gave him a quick once-over. “Don’t be funny.”

  “I’m serious. Believe me, I’m more serious than I’ve been in my whole life.” He seemed sincere, that was the odd thing about this exchange. But it might be wise to let him know that he was distinctly not her type. Cruel? Ma
ybe. But in the long run, the kindest way to handle bozos like this one was to be honest.

  She drew a deep, steadying breath, noting, before she gave him a piece of her mind, that there was a firm set to his jaw. It bespoke determination, but she plunged ahead anyway. “I don’t hang out with beach bums.”

  “Beach—?” He looked taken aback, then reached up and ruefully felt the stubble on his jaw. “Usually I shave. This morning, I was in a hurry.”

  She felt a prickle of self-doubt. The man had charm, but maybe that was the problem. After Paco, she distrusted personable men who thought they had the world by the tail, a description that fit Lust Puppy to a tee.

  “Well, while you’re hurrying, hurry in another direction. Preferably away from me.” She kept walking, expecting to see, out of the corners of her eyes, a crestfallen look. But instead, he seemed to be holding back laughter. This confused her, but then, none of this was going by the book.

  “I don’t have to hurry,” Lee said. “We beach bums more or less take it easy.” He’d never been mistaken for a beach bum before, and this put a new spin on things. Since he didn’t want Azure to know his true identity, her mistake could work in his favor, for a while anyway. Later, after she had a chance to get to know him, he’d tell her the truth.

  Azure’s cell phone began to ring, and she dug it out of the depths of her purse. “Yes? This is she. Yes, you’re supposed to deliver the car today. To the Blue Moon Apartments. Right.”

  She listened for a moment before clicking the phone off. “That’s all I need,” she said, tossing her head so that a few tendrils of pale hair, fine as spun glass, worked their way loose at the nape of her neck. “The rental company is short on personnel today and can’t deliver the car.”

  “Are you sure there’s one available?” he asked. He had the sudden urge to brush aside those downy hairs and kiss the skin beneath to find out if she tasted as delectable as she looked.

  She started to walk again, but there was less swing to her step than earlier. “Oh, they’ve got a car, they just can’t deliver it, and their office is way over on the mainland. I’d better flag down a cab.” She saw one across the street and began to make tracks toward it, nearly getting run down by a bus in the process. Before she could reach it, the cab sprinted away in a cloud of exhaust fumes.

  “Maybe I’ll try some other rental car phone numbers,” she muttered, stopping near a bench shaded by a potted palm. There was an unoccupied phone kiosk there, and she hefted the phone book up and began to thumb through the yellow pages.

  Lee looked up the street in hopes of spotting another cab. Nothing. He looked down the street. Still nothing. If he offered to drive Azure to the rental car place he might blow his cover; he had rented a new Mercedes 450 for transportation while he was here in Miami Beach, and beach bums didn’t drive luxury cars. Beach bums drove decrepit old convertibles. Beach bums drove…

  …a car like Fleck’s. A rag-top Mustang, candy-apple red and sporting a few dings and a missing bumper.

  Lee cleared his throat. “I can drive you to the mainland to pick up your car. No problem.”

  Azure looked up from the phone book, a skeptical look on her face. “You can?”

  “It so happens that I have business in Miami later. You’re welcome to ride along.” More than welcome, he added to himself as he studied the fetching curve of her cheek, the sensuous droop of her lower lip as she considered his offer.

  “You’re sure you don’t mind?”

  “No, of course not.”

  “Well—” She dropped the phone book back into its slot. “I have no choice. I need to be ready to meet a client.”

  “I’ll go get my car and stop by the Blue Moon to pick you up.”

  Azure heaved a sigh and pushed the wisps on her neck back into place. In that moment, Lee would have liked nothing so much as watching that glorious hair tumble free from its pins or whatever she used to fasten it.

  “Well, it’s kind of you, and it would simplify things.”

  Would it ever, Lee thought. “Like I said, no problem.”

  She afforded him a curt nod. “All right. Can you stop by for me in an hour?”

  “Sure.”

  “Fine. I’ll see you then.” She shoved her cell phone down into her purse and took off toward the Blue Moon while Lee started back toward the marina where the Samoa’s launch was waiting.

  He grinned to himself as he thought about the fun he was going to have.

  THE BLUE MOON APARTMENTS were located smack dab in the middle of South Beach, Miami Beach’s much-touted art deco district. Azure couldn’t figure out for the life of her how anyone could have thought it a good idea to construct such a building and then paint it pink, aqua, and lavender. A blue bas-relief half-moon hung over the door. Azure had, so far, wisely managed to keep her mouth shut about the place’s overall garishness.

  Goldy, general factotum at the Blue Moon, was hunched behind her desk studying tea leaves in a cup when Azure walked into the lobby.

  “The tea leaves say I’m going to travel over water,” Goldy said, adjusting the folds of her voluminous flower-print caftan. “They tell me I’m going to attend some sort of ceremonial occasion.”

  “You just did,” Azure reminded her. “You went to Karma’s wedding.”

  “This upcoming ceremonial event is something different. It doesn’t have the same vibes. I wonder if it has anything to do with the spaceship.”

  Azure, confounded by this statement, stopped in her tracks. “What spaceship?”

  “Well, I don’t know what spaceship. Some guy on a radio talk show said that an alien spaceship could come right here to Miami Beach, and there are followers of some Elvis-worshiping religion who plan to meet it when it arrives. A few of them stopped by the other day and wanted to know if I had rooms to rent for the occasion.”

  Azure had grown friendly with Goldy in the few days that she had been staying with Paulette. It was hard not to like Goldy, though she had her oddball moments.

  In order to call a halt to this line of conversation, Azure adopted her most businesslike attitude. “Goldy, I’m expecting my ride to the rental car place to arrive shortly. Will you call me when he gets here?”

  “Oh, sure.” Goldy peered down at the tea leaves again. “The man—the one who’s going to pick you up?—lives on water. This whole reading has a lot to do with water.”

  Azure laughed. “Water is right. The guy’s a beach bum. But he has a car, and I need a ride.”

  “A beach bum? That would mean surfing?”

  “Something like that.”

  Goldy’s eyes grew round behind her glasses. “Maybe he’s like the guys on Baywatch. You know, on television. Old reruns, of course.”

  “Chances are he’s not as hunky. Anyway, didn’t you meet somebody named Lee at the wedding?”

  Goldy pursed her lips and thought for a moment. “I don’t remember him.” At that point, the phone rang, and Goldy answered it.

  Azure, feeling fortunate not to participate in any further discussion that touched on Elvis worshipers or spaceships, hurried upstairs to Paulette’s apartment. She took a quick shower, her second of the day. After she had dried off, she dug through her suitcase searching for clothes that would be more comfortable in this climate than the ones she’d been wearing. She came up with a navy-and-white blouse and a pair of navy slacks, part wool, that she’d worn in London. They’d be too warm to wear here.

  In desperation, she flipped through the hangers in Paulette’s closet, looking for something cool to borrow. Paulette had a lot of snazzy outfits, but they were all too short except for a pair of white pedal pushers that hit Azure a little high on the knee. No matter, they and the navy-and-white blouse would have to do. Fortunately she and Paulette wore the same shoe size, and she slipped her feet into a pair of sandals that wouldn’t hurt her poor pinched toes.

  Maybe, she thought unhappily as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, she should have gone on a shopping spree after all.
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  FLECK’S TRUSTY MUSTANG had its shortcomings. Like the ripped seat cover that leaked stuffing. Like the door handle on the passenger side that kept coming off. Like a missing bumper.

  But that was all fine with Lee, and Fleck was delighted to let him use it.

  “You mean we’re trading cars? You drive the Mustang and I drive the Mercedes?”

  “We’re trading identities, buddy,” Lee told him as he studied himself critically in the mirror in his mahogany-paneled stateroom. “As of this moment, I’m the beach bum and you’re the owner of this yacht.”

  Fleck howled with glee. “For how long?”

  “Until I say so. Unless you object, that is.”

  “Hell, no! I’m Fleck Johnson, impersonating a billionaire and waiting for women to swarm over the sides of the Samoa and have their way with me.”

  “It’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

  “You get your ya-yas your way, I’ll get mine my way.” He paused and gave Lee a critical once-over. “Hey, if you want to be a bum, you’ve got to wear your hair differently. Except for the clothes, you look like you walked right out of an exclusive tennis club.”

  Lee’s brown hair had been whipped blond by wind and sunshine on the long days he’d spent on the deck of the Samoa, but he knew the style wasn’t quite right for the role he intended to play. He gave it an experimental flick with a comb. “You mean it should look like this?”

  “Naw. Do you mind?” Fleck stood ready to wreak havoc on Lee’s hairstyle.

  Lee shook his head.

  “Do it this way,” Fleck said, churning his fingers around Lee’s scalp so that the strands separated and stood on end. “And like this.”

  “Sheesh,” Lee said. “I look—”

  “Like a surfer guy. Chicks love the look.”

  “If that’s so, why haven’t you been the one they’re swarming over the side of the boat to see?”

  Fleck adopted an offended air. “We’re talking about a different kind of woman, dude. The kind of women, see, who gravitate toward beach bums are kind of loose and free, and I do mean free. They aren’t looking for a guy to support them. They’re laid-back, like me.”