“What does that sound mean?” she asked instead. “There doesn’t seem to be another missed call.”
“Text, most likely,” Vince said gruffly. His own phone buzzed in his pocket, but he reached over to Edeena’s first and swiped a couple of screens over. “There.” He pointed to an icon, and sure enough, another ping sounded and the number surmounting the little green square turned from 1 to 2. She tapped the icon as he pulled out his own phone.
There were two messages, from numbers she recognized as belonging to her plan. They didn’t have names attached to them, but undoubtedly they were Caro and Marguerite.
You have to come! was all that was visible on Caro’s text, while Marguerite’s had a series of smiley faces with hearts for eyes.
“What in the world?” she murmured.
Vince’s sudden sharp curse brought her head up, simultaneous with Prudence’s gasp of alarm.
“What?” Edeena demanded, but he was already standing.
“We didn’t provide clear enough instructions,” he said. “Your sisters have free rein to go anywhere they want on the island. That was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Edeena asked, also standing. “How can that possibly be a problem? The island isn’t dangerous.”
Vince looked at her sharply. “You don’t have a problem with them visiting the Cypress Resort? On a Tuesday?”
“What are you talking about? We were planning on going later today anyway.”
She glanced back at her phone and clicked on Caro’s message, scrolling quickly. “What in the world is ‘Bachelorette Party at the Cypress?’” she asked, dumbfounded.
Vince groaned. “I’ll explain in the car.”
Vince grimaced as Edeena slammed the door behind her a few minutes later, sliding into the passenger seat. Apparently, he no longer was to be playing the chauffeur’s role.
Worked for him. At this point he was beginning to wonder if he should simply drive off the island as fast as he could. The Saleri sisters were setting up to be a colossal nuisance.
“What is going on?” the eldest sister asked now. Her tone was no longer alarmed, merely curious. “What can possibly be wrong with the Cypress Resort? Marguerite confirmed that’s where she’d gotten an in to do her internship, at least once the paperwork clears. She said it was a nice place!”
“It is a nice place,” Vince said, putting the car into gear. “But it is a multi-functional place.” He winced, not knowing how else to describe it. “I told you it was a resort for adults. Well, in some sections, it’s more like a resort for consenting adults.”
“Consenting…” Edeena turned to him sharply as she made the connection. “It’s some sort of sex club?” she asked. Once again, she didn’t sound aghast, more simply startled. “In South Carolina?”
“We do more than drink sweet tea here, you know.” Then he jabbed a finger at her phone, which she still clutched in her hand. “What’d they say, specifically?”
Edeena fumbled with the device, eventually calling up the text screen again. “Caroline says they met some sort of social ambassador for the club wherever they were shopping, and the woman encouraged her to attend a bachelorette party of some kind. Which, apparently, is going on now. And apparently, your people are taking them there.” She tapped another message, but shook her head. “This one’s all smiley faces. Marguerite appears to be on board with the program.”
Vince nodded. “That tails to the text I received. Right now, Marguerite and Caroline’s personal guards are already in place with them, dressed casually, with backup hitting the club in twenty minutes.” He slanted her a glance. “How, um . . . sophisticated are your sisters?”
Edeena winced. “Do I even want to know what you mean?”
When he didn’t respond right away she groaned. “Well, they’re not idiots, if that’s what you’re worried about. They have . . . dated. They’ve had sex. They’ve seen naked men. Ugh!” She threw up her hands. “Just what sort of place are we talking about here, Vince? And how can there be some sort of weird sex club for ‘consenting adults’ on one of the most exclusive islands in South Carolina?”
Vince snorted as he turned out onto the main road, heading for the new resort. “The Cypress not a sex club,” he said, shaking his head. “It’s a resort, a resort that caters to the young and unattached, or the coupled-up but childless. As a result, about eighty percent of it is pure up and up—villas, restaurants, gift shops, spas, you name it. High-end, plush, as classy as you’d expect. But there’s also a couple of private pool areas and some nightclub venues that are tailor-made for a slightly edgier clientele. And they’ve taken off like a shot, so the club is trying to promote them while staying within the bounds of decency.”
“Well, that all sounds fairly reasonable. And this, ah, bachelorette party? What’s that about?” He could sense her eyes narrowing as she glanced at him. “How do you know about it, exactly?”
Dangerous waters here, but he waded in anyway. “I make it my business to know everything that happens on the island.”
“Which means you’ve been there when it was going on. How bad is it?”
“It’s . . . harmless,” he said finally. “Basically, a parade of women wearing bathing suits and sashes that say ‘new bride’ and . . . well, a collection of men who buy them drinks and chat them up.”
“A collection. Fabulous,” Edeena snorted, rubbing a hand over her face. “Caro will be puking her guts out within a half-hour. Marguerite . . .” She looked at him. “Is there an actual drinking competition? Because Marguerite will drink the locals under the table, I’m telling you right now.”
“It’s not going to get to that,” Vince said firmly. “Though you’re probably wrong, if it makes you feel any better. In the South, we pride ourselves on a lot of things. Holding our liquor is one of them.”
“In the South, you don’t have tsipouro,” Edeena retorted. Before he could respond to that, she shifted in her seat. “That’s it?” she asked, peering ahead. “It doesn’t look that bad.”
“It’s not that bad.” They were approaching the main clubhouse of the resort, and it appeared every inch the gracious southern beach residence, with dove grey ramparts trimmed in bright white, white decking, stairs and ramps at all levels, and gorgeous container gardens spilling over with softly swaying flowers in rich hues of purple, red, and violet to complement the seagrass that was carefully planted all around the building. Every hurricane that passed over the island carried with it the potential to destroy all of this landscaping, but so far, the new resort had been lucky. And judging from the stream of cars pulling through valet parking, they were accruing more than enough cushion for future landscaping modifications.
Edeena barely waited for him to reach the front of the queue at the valet station before she was out the door, hastening up the front steps.
“Not that way,” Vince said, and she halted, her expression questioning as she turned back to him. He gestured to a side pathway. “That’s the main area of the resort, truly impressive, but not what we want.”
She strode forward quickly, but when she reached him, he extended a hand and grasped her shoulder. She stiffened at the unexpected touch, but she didn’t pull away. Her cheeks were tinged pink, however, as he focused on her.
“I’d rather not cause a scene here,” he said quietly. “The resort is new and it’s state of the art. They’ve got security cameras everywhere and they take notice of anyone acting out of the ordinary. If you want to keep a low profile, I suggest you follow my lead.”
Edeena sighed, then nodded. “I’m sure they’ll be fine, it’s just . . . well they haven’t had a lot of freedoms. You’d expect they would, but my father kept us in line pretty heavily. And we don’t have many clubs with sections for, um, consenting adults in Garronia.” She winced. “With my luck, Marguerite will decide that’s what she wants to focus her internship on.”
Vince elected to refrain from commenting as he steered Edeena to the side entrance into the Cypress Re
sort. The adults-only section was in the midst of an expansion, with more villas cropping up along the left edge of the building, but the large gated entrance remained subdued, very much in keeping with the design of the main resort. It was only after you got inside that you noticed things were . . . slightly different.
“Please let me be clear,” he said as they continued along the manicured path, “it’s not an adult club in the way you might be thinking. There aren’t wild orgies on the front lawn. It’s simply more permissible for open displays of affection, edgier clothing choices, and—”
“And bachelorette parties in broad daylight. On a Tuesday,” Edeena said. Instantly she glanced up at him. “I’m sorry, I know you must think I’m a prude, but these are my sisters. I’ve always managed to handle them carefully enough that they have fun while still staying safe, but this . . .” she gave a small laugh. “This is a little out of my purview.”
Handle, he mused. Edeena pulled out her passport for identification, and he fished for his wallet. What would it be like to think that you had to ‘handle’ your younger sisters to make sure no harm befell them, and how long had Edeena been doing it? More intriguingly, who’d been assigned as her handler all these years?
They flashed their IDs to the concierge, and the shrewd older woman’s eyes lit up as she surveyed Edeena appraisingly. Beautiful women were the life’s blood of these kind of establishments, Vince knew. Something else he should have warned Edeena about before they arrived. Too late now.
They swept into the open courtyard of the complex, and Edeena’s gaze went immediately to the high walls that provided a distinct visual barrier between the “consenting adults” section of the Cypress and the main resort. The management’s attempts at discretion were notable and immediately obvious, which contributed to the gentility of the place, despite the three large nightclubs that bordered the half-dozen pools clustered in the center of the courtyard.
“No one here is swimming laps, I take it,” Edeena commented drily. The largest pool was a circle, and about half the length of a regulation swimming pool. It was surrounded by a kaleidoscope of other, smaller pools—some apparently heated to hot-tub temperatures, some with waterfalls, all of them boasting men and women in various stages of undress. Not even this section of the Cypress allowed full nudity, but as long as there was a thread of cloth covering the essentials, you qualified.
Edeena’s gaze had already moved to the center pool, and she drew nearer to Vince, as if taking comfort from his presence.
He liked that, he decided. He liked that a lot.
“Oh, dear God,” Edeena choked back a laugh. “They seriously are wearing sashes. I thought that was a joke!”
“Vince! Well, bless my soul. I haven’t seen you here in an age!”
The woman’s sultry voice cut across Vince’s focus, and he turned abruptly to see Janet Mulready, guest experience manager of the Cypress Resort, strolling up to him, her impressively-toned body encased in a swimsuit and sari bottom that left very little to the imagination. Edeena turned as well, and he practically hear her aristocratic eyebrows arching in surprise.
Janet had been the manager assigned to Vince when he’d toured the facility after it had first opened, and she’d offered him far more than a survey of the buildings and grounds. He’d been momentarily tempted, but also late for an appointment on the other side of the island, so he’d managed to keep a hold on his professionalism. The woman was knockout gorgeous, like most of the Cypress’s management. No matter their shape or size, they were all beautiful people, and Janet was more buff than most of them.
“Miss Mulready,” he said, offering her a polite smile—a smile that wavered as she held out long, glistening arms toward him, her fingers fluttering. He caught both of her hands and she pulled him close, bussing him on the cheek while managing not to press her body against his.
“That’s the closest I can get to a kiss, covered as I am in sunscreen,” she cooed. “But perhaps we can work around that later?”
He blinked as she backed up again, her gaze turning to Edeena. “And who is this?” she asked brightly. “Your sister?”
Chapter Three
Edeena had been justifiably startled when the barely-dressed woman had sailed toward them, comfortable and confident despite the fact that she wore little more than a kitchen towel. But when the statuesque blonde had grasped Vince’s hands and embraced him so familiarly, her surprise had quickly turned to annoyance.
And now with the question. Vince’s sister. Not his girlfriend, his client, or his bestie, but his sister. Instantly relegated to the sidelines while Tall, Blonde and Glistening muscled in, smelling of coconut butter and salt.
Before she could respond to the woman’s question, however, Vince spoke in his cool southern drawl. “Miss Mulready, I’d like to introduce you to Countess Edeena Saleri, newly arrived from the kingdom of Garronia. She and her sisters are pleased to be exploring the Cypress Resort today.”
Edeena blinked at the fawning introduction, but the woman’s demeanor instantly changed. “Countess,” she breathed, her avaricious eyes glinting with new and patent interest. “Here with your sisters?”
Edeena had been about to announce that she was Vince’s fiancée, if merely to wipe the smug condescension from the woman’s face, but she’d forgotten the power of a title in America. Garronia’s entire noble class was made up of counts and countesses, the only other titles in the country being those assigned to the royal family. You couldn’t turn around without tripping over a count back home. But she wasn’t in Garronia, she was in Sea Haven, South Carolina. She needed to remember that.
“I trust you’ll find our resort meets all your European tastes and preferences,” the woman continued, then she peered more curiously at Edeena. “How did you two meet?”
Once again, Vince interjected himself smoothly to deflect the question with the simple truth. It was tidy and easy, and he did it with such calm assurance that he left no room for the oiled-up Miss Mulready to maneuver. “Countess Saleri hired my firm to provide them with security on the island.”
“Oh! Well, of course. You’ll be pleased to know that the Cypress Resort takes our commitment to security very seriously,” Mulready said, her honeyed voice modulating now to one of hushed confidence. “Here in this section most of all. We draw quite an exclusive clientele, you understand.”
“Oh?” Edeena’s gaze swiveled once more to the bachelorette party in the pool. She’d spotted her sisters immediately—well, one of them. Marguerite had found a one-piece swimsuit somewhere, its bright red color and spare cut making up for the fact that it wasn’t a bikini like most of the other girls wore. Caroline wasn’t in the line-up of brides-to-be, however.
“Oh, yes, indeed,” Mulready said. “We don’t have any royalty here at present, but we have several international travelers, most of them business professionals looking to unwind after work on the mainland. Then there are several prominent individuals from Washington D.C. and, of course, Atlanta, who’ve found our resort to be exactly the kind of respite they need.”
Edeena gestured more expansively to the pool area. “What’s the, um, competition that’s going on?”
Mulready beamed. “Just a little fun and games we put together to get everyone chatting. Would you like to join in? We can easily find you a suit.”
Edeena was spared from responding as a young man in a skin-tight muscle shirt and loose shorts approached, flagging down Mulready. The man gave Edeena a warm grin before turning away. “Sorry to interrupt, Janet, but suite forty-seven has arrived and you asked to be informed. You want me to entertain them?”
“You’re not the kind of entertainment they’re looking for, I’m afraid,” Mulready said with a leer of her own, and it was all Edeena could do not to wince. Everywhere she looked there were nearly naked bodies, and the sheer volume of undressed people in the small space made her head spin.
Mulready pivoted back to them. “If you’ll excuse me? I can have Josh show you—�
�
“We’re good, thanks,” Vince said summarily as the young man fixed his attention on Edeena. He really was good-looking in a blond surfer way, and she smiled back at him as Vince steered her off, leaving Mulready and the beefcake to chat.
“Caroline is out of the pool already at the bar,” Vince informed her, and Edeena quickly picked her sister out of the crowd. “Her assigned guard, Cindy Marks, is behind her to the left. You see her?”
“I do.” The woman wore a workout top that complemented her extremely buff physique, and loose trousers that had a beachy flair to them. “She’s a good choice for Caro, not too intrusive.”
“I switched out their assignments after meeting your sisters,” Vince said, and she nodded. She’d thought that’s what had happened. She remembered Caro having a male guard and Marguerite a female when they’d first discussed arrangements. But now . . .
Her gaze swiveled back to the pool. “I don’t see Rob, though. Who’s on Marguerite?” she asked. “And despite what’s happening in that bachelorette pool, I don’t mean that literally.”
Vince chuckled. “Your sister may not be safe from Southern Comfort, but she’s well protected otherwise. Rob’s right there, wearing the red skull cap.”
Edeena peered more intently. “Oh!” she said, when she recognized the bodyguard. “I can’t believe he’s in the pool with her. That’s outstanding.”
“Rob was the one who texted first when Marguerite got targeted by the rep from the Cypress. We’ve thought for a while that the Cypress sends out runners to draw in the new arrivals, so it’s something we’ll need to add to our briefings for new clients.”
“They would have found their way to the resort sooner or later.” Edeena shrugged. Then she glanced his way. “But who’s my bodyguard? Or did you decide I won’t need one after all?”
Not likely. Vince kept his gaze on Marguerite, now clambering out of the pool, apparently having lost her bid to be Bachelorette-Most-Likely. On the other side of the pool, Rob hauled his body out of the water as well. Good.
Cursed: Gowns & Crowns, Book 5 Page 3