If Marcel thought it odd that a new bride was frolicking poolside with a man who wasn’t her husband, he made no sign. He was polite and unobtrusive when he brought out a tray laden with everything from scrambled eggs and bacon to fresh mangoes and homemade croissants filled with dark chocolate.
Leo roused in time to devour his share of the repast. “I was hungry,” he said sheepishly as he snitched a lone strawberry.
Hattie lay back, her cup and saucer balanced on her tummy. “This coffee is to die for. I’ll have to find out what brand it is.” She finished her drink and turned on her stomach…drifting, half-awake, listening to birdsong and the gentle sough of the wind in the palm fronds.
Leo poked her knee. “You’re turning pink, princess. Better put some sunscreen on.”
Without opening her eyes, she reached for the bottle of lotion under her chair. “Will you do my back, please? I’ll throw a towel over my legs, so don’t bother with that.”
Luc parked the car in front of the B and B and sat for ten seconds, giving himself a lecture. He was calm. He was in control. Hattie would dance to his tune.
He had a plan. One that would satisfy the hunger riding him and at the same time make it clear to his new wife that nothing had changed. Their marriage was still temporary.
It was an unpleasant shock to find their suite empty. But then he took a deep breath. Hattie was shopping, that was all. Women loved to shop. The tourist district of Key West wasn’t all that big. Maybe he would take the car and drive around for a bit, see if he spotted her.
As he hurried back down the stairs, keys in hand, Marcel intercepted him. “Welcome back, Mr. Cavallo. I hope your business was transacted successfully.”
“Yeah,” Luc muttered, unaccountably embarrassed. “Do you happen to know if Hattie has gone to town?”
Marcel shook his head. “Your wife is out by the pool with her friend. I served them a meal not long ago. Shall I bring more food?”
“No thanks. Not hungry.”
Luc’s hackles rose. Her friend? No doubt, some handsome surfer type had taken advantage of Luc’s short absence to make a move.
Well, not for long, buddy.
Luc walked outside, keeping behind the bushes until he got a clear shot of the pool. Hattie was stretched out, facedown, in a suit that made his mouth water. But the sight that took his breath away was the large man rubbing lotion into Hattie’s shoulders.
Damn and double damn. The guy had his back to Luc, and at this distance, Luc couldn’t really tell much about him…except that he was getting way too chummy with Luc’s wife.
The man murmured something to Hattie that made her laugh. Luc’s vision blurred with rage and indignation.
He burst through the shrubbery and advanced on the couple by the pool. “What in the hell is going on?”
The man turned his head and smiled…a wicked, look what I’m up to smile. Leo stood up. “Well, hello, Luc. It’s about damn time you got here.”
Though he was stunned, Luc didn’t let on. “Why are you here, Leo? If you’re dying for a honeymoon, find your own damn wife.”
Leo mocked him deliberately. “When I heard that you were willing to transact business this week, I brought some contracts that need your John Hancock ASAP.”
By this time, Hattie had scrambled to her feet. Her sweat-sheened breasts revealed by the relatively modest décolletage of her suit gave Luc pause for a second or two, but he dragged his eyes away from his wife’s erotic body and faced off with his sibling.
Luc looked pointedly at Leo’s casual attire. “But nothing so urgent that you couldn’t chill out by the pool,” he said, irritated beyond belief. It had been years since he and Leo had tangled in a fistfight, but Luc was spoiling for a rematch.
Hattie grabbed his arm. “Sit down, Luc. You’re being rude.”
Leo egged him on. “It’s your fault, little bro. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t been such a Type A jerk.”
That was it. Luc lunged at Leo, determined to pummel him into the ground. Their bodies collided and the fight was on.
But Luc hadn’t counted on Hattie.
She grabbed his shirt and clung to him. “Stop this. Right now. You’re both insane.”
He shrugged her off. “Get out of the way.” He rammed his shoulder into Leo’s chest. Leo fired back with a punch to Luc’s solar plexus.
Hattie jumped on Luc’s back this time, her arms around his neck in a stranglehold. “I mean it,” she pleaded, her voice shaking. “He’s your brother.”
A second time Luc shook her off. “He’s a pain in the ass.”
Leo was momentarily distracted by Hattie’s distress. Luc used the brief advantage to land another right to Leo’s chin, this time splitting his own knuckles.
Hattie tried a third intervention, grabbing Luc’s belt with two hands. But both men were in motion and when she lost her grasp, she slipped on the wet surface of the pool deck and fell sideways, her cheek raking the edge of the glass-topped table as she went down.
Luc and Leo froze. Luc was down on his knees in seconds, scooping her into his arms. “Oh, God, Hattie. Are you okay?”
She struggled to a sitting position and said, “Yes.”
But she was lying. Blood oozed down her cheek from a nasty gash.
Leo crouched with them, cursing beneath his breath. “Is it bad?”
“I can’t tell,” Luc said, his hands shaky. “We need to get her checked out.”
Hattie waved a hand. “Hellooo. I’m right here. If you two doofuses would kiss and make up, I’ll be fine.”
Luc eyes his brother sheepishly. “Sorry, man.”
Leo grinned. “I deserved it.”
Hattie rolled her eyes. “Morons.” Luc heard rueful affection in the two syllables.
He motioned to his brother. “Grab one of those cloth napkins.”
Leo complied, wetting the fabric in a water glass.
When Luc pressed gently at the wound, Hattie winced. “That hurts. Let me do it.”
He surrendered the makeshift swab reluctantly, watching in dismay as Hattie removed more of the blood. It was an odd cut, and one that stitches wouldn’t necessarily help.
The unflappable Marcel appeared, handing over a first aid kit. He glanced quickly at Hattie’s cheek. “A butterfly bandage should do the trick, I think.”
Luc applied antibiotic ointment and pressed the plaster in place as tenderly as he could. He and Leo helped her to her feet.
Now that the immediate crisis was over, Hattie was clearly flustered. She reached for her sheer cover-up and slid her arms into it. “I’m going upstairs to take a shower,” she said, her eyes daring him to protest. “I suggest you two get your act together while I’m gone.”
She turned with dignity to Marcel. “Thank you for your help. It’s nice to know that someone around here has good sense.”
As she flounced her way into the house, Leo shook his head and smiled. “Your wife is one tough cookie.”
Luc nodded, sobered by what might have been. “For once, I agree with you completely.”
Eleven
When Hattie stepped into the sitting room, she saw Luc ensconced on the sofa, elbows on his knees, waiting for her.
He stood and faced her. “You look nice.”
She picked up her purse, fiddling with the contents. “Thanks.” She was wearing a gauzy ankle-length dress in shades of taupe and gold. It was sleeveless, and the V neck dipped low front and back. A necklace and bracelet in chunky amber stones complemented the outfit.
The small bandage on her cheekbone made her self-conscious, but that was mostly vanity talking. Her ensemble was dressy but comfortable. After the last few days, relaxation was high on Hattie’s list.
She bit her lip, not wanting to resurrect any bad feelings. “Where’s Leo?”
Luc made a face. “Don’t worry. I signed the damn papers. He’s changing downstairs to give us some privacy. I thought we’d go out for a late lunch somewhere nice, and afterward, he’ll head h
ome.”
Leaving us all alone on our “it-has-to-get-better-than-this” honeymoon. The thought swept through Hattie’s brain like wildfire, singeing neurons and making her legs weak. “Sounds good.”
But when they got downstairs, Leo was gone. Marcel handed over a note. Luc read it, his expression blank and then passed it over to Hattie.
Don’t want to intrude. Have a good week. See you in Hotlanta.
Hattie tossed the little piece of paper in a nearby trash can, her palms damp. “I guess it’s just us.”
Luc’s gaze was hooded. “Guess so.”
He ushered her out to the car, and they drove the short distance to the historic district. After squeezing into a tiny parking space on a street curb, Luc shut off the engine and came around to open Hattie’s door. His hand on her elbow did amazing things to her heart rate.
She told herself not to expect too much. Nothing had changed. They weren’t a normal couple by any means.
But it was hard to remember such mundane considerations amidst the tropical atmosphere of Key West. Everyone was in a good mood, it seemed. And no wonder. The view from Mallory Square was filled with cerulean seas, colorful watercraft and white, billowing triangles atop sailboats that zigged and zagged across the open waves.
Just offshore lay a palm-fringed island that looked so perfect Hattie wondered if the Chamber of Commerce had painted it against the sky to frame the sunsets.
When she said as much, Luc responded. “One of the large hotel chains owns it. You can rent one-, two-or three-bedroom cottages, and they even have their own man-made beach.”
Hattie had already realized that Key West was not a typical “beach” destination. The coastline was rocky or coral-built. The Conch Republic, as it was called, was literally the last stop before Cuba, a mere ninety miles southwest.
At a marina adjacent to one of the fabulous hotels, Luc took Hattie’s hand and helped her down into a sleek speedboat. Moments later, they were cutting across the waves, bound for the island.
In minutes, they pulled up to a well-kept dock and stepped out of the boat. A uniformed attendant directed them to the restaurant. It was open air on three sides, with huge rattan ceiling fans rotating overhead as an adjunct to the natural sea breezes. Delicate potted orchids bloomed on each table. China, silver and crystal gleamed.
The food was amazing…fresh shrimp gumbo and homemade corn bread. Hattie chewed automatically.
She was ready for a showdown, but if she initiated what might turn out to be a shouting match, would it be worth it? Hattie’s mother had made a life’s work out of tiptoeing around Hattie’s stepfather. She always acted as if he might desert her at any moment.
The truth was that the guy loved Hattie’s mother and would have given her anything. But early lessons are hard to unlearn. Hattie wasn’t proficient at confrontation, but then again, she was no pushover. Luc was doing her a favor, yes. But that didn’t mean he could dominate her.
She waited until the server put a piece of key lime pie in front of each of them before she fired the first shot. “How was your business trip?”
Luc choked on a bite of dessert. “Fine,” he muttered. “This pie is great.”
She wouldn’t be deterred. If she had been clearer about her feelings a decade ago, she and Luc might possibly have worked things out. Her jaw tightened. “There was no excuse for you to leave on the first day of our honeymoon. Not only was it disrespectful to me, it also endangered our pretense of a happy marriage. I think you were trying to teach me a lesson, but it backfired.”
Luc set down his fork and leaned back in his chair, his face sober. He exhaled slowly, his lips twisted. “You’re right, of course. And I do apologize.”
She cocked her head, studying him, trying to see inside his brain. “I’ve never said this, but my leaving you wasn’t really about money. It was about control.”
Luc jerked as if she had slapped him. “I don’t understand.”
“As a young woman, my mother had an affair with her boss, a wealthy, powerful man. When she told him she was pregnant, he cast her off without a second thought. That shining example of a man was my father. My biological father.”
Shock creased his face. “I wasn’t your boss, Hattie. What does that have to do with anything? I feel sorry for your mother, but you’re certainly not the kind to do something so reckless.”
“You’re missing the point. My whole childhood revolved around this missing mystery man. This terrible person who didn’t want me. And to hear my mother tell it, money was what gave him all the power. Leaving her powerless and alone. From the time I was old enough to understand, she drilled into me the importance of making my own way in the world and not letting any man control my destiny.”
“And you thought I would do something like that to you?” He looked haunted.
“Of course not. But I was so head over heels in love with you, I was afraid I’d lose myself in your life. It’s very easy to be taken care of, very addictive. And I wasn’t brave enough to stick with you. In hindsight, I believe I was stronger than I realized at the time. But as a kid of twenty, all I could see was that you had the money and power to do anything you wanted. And I felt lost in your shadow.”
“Despite the fact that I wanted you so badly I followed you around like a puppy.”
“You were a young man at the mercy of his hormones. Sex makes men do crazy things.”
They were sitting at adjoining corners of a table for four. Beneath the linen cloth, Luc took her hand and deliberately pushed it against his erection. “I’m not so young now,” he growled, releasing her fingers and eating his pie as if nothing had happened.
The imprint of his rigid flesh was burned into Hattie’s palm. She took a reckless swallow of wine. “Don’t be crass.”
He shrugged, his eyes a dangerous flash of obsidian. “What do you want from me, Hattie?”
She hesitated, torn between fascinated curiosity about his response to her and a healthy sense of caution. “Do you really think we can be intimate and then walk away?”
Luc shrugged again. “I can if you can.”
Hattie frowned, licking whipped cream from her spoon. His nonchalance could be an act. Her heart beat faster.
She cocked her head and stared at him, trying to read his mind. He was as inscrutable as the great and powerful wizard of Oz. If Hattie could click her heels in ruby slippers, she’d be able to go back to that innocent time in college.
Did she want to? Or did she want to move ahead as an adult woman with adult needs? She’d be taking an enormous risk. What if she fell in love with Luc again? What if she never had really stopped loving him? What if they had sex and it was ho-hum?
Not likely.
She scraped one last bite of topping from her plate and ate it absently. Luc’s hungry gaze followed every motion she made. Her throat dried. It was now or never.
When the waiter moved to a safe distance, Hattie rested her arms on the table and moved in close to Luc. She put her hand over his. “You said I had to be the one to say yes or no. But you have to know that my answer has nothing to do with protecting a baby…nothing to do with mistakes we made in the past. No feelings of obligation. This is about us…you and me. And I say—”
Luc put his hand over her mouth, his expression violent. “Not another word.”
Luc was burning up. The tropical heat and Hattie’s proximity made him sweat. Her gaze seemed to dissect him like a bug. To burrow inside his brain and discern his secrets. He lifted an impatient hand for the check, deliberately breaking their physical connection. He was too close to the edge. Hearing Hattie acquiesce to their mutual desire for sexual intimacy could push him over. And it wouldn’t be smart to let her realize how desperate he was to have her. Talking about sex in a public venue had not helped in the least when it came to controlling his baser urges.
After he shoved two large bills into the folio, he took Hattie by the wrist, dragging her toward the exit. “We’re going back to the house,” he s
aid. “I think you have sunstroke.”
She laughed softly. They reached the dock, and it was all he could do not to crush her against one of the wooden posts and ravage her mouth with his. He damned the surroundings that forced him to act like a gentleman. He’d never felt less civilized in his life.
Other tourists joined them beneath the awning, and soon the return boat arrived. Hattie’s hip and thigh were glued to Luc’s in the small, crowded craft. Back on dry land, she followed him meekly to the car. Her honey-blond hair gleamed in the unforgiving sun.
Seeing her pink shoulders made him think of Leo again. Which made him think of doing the lotion thing for Hattie, covering every inch of her creamy skin with fragrant moisture.
He knew what she was going to say, and his body said a resounding “hell, yeah!” But in addition to his need to remain in control, it occurred to him that he owed her some romance…to make up for his less than stellar behavior as a new groom. They had eight or nine hours to kill before bedtime. It was far too hot to walk the streets in the midday heat.
Fortunately, their rental was parked beneath a huge shade tree. Luc leaned his elbows on the top of the car and faced Hattie with the vehicle between them. “What would you like to do now?” he asked, wishing he could supply the answer.
She lifted the hair from the back of her neck and sighed. “I love the pool,” she said. “Do you mind too much if we go back and swim? We can play tourist tomorrow.”
“Whatever you want,” he croaked, his mind racing ahead. Swimming as foreplay made as much sense as anything else to his testosterone fuddled brain.
In the bedroom there was an awkward moment when they both reached into suitcases with plans to change clothes. Luc held up his hands, gripping a pair of black swim trunks. “I’ll use the other bathroom.”
He was ready in four minutes. It took Hattie an extra twenty. But when she reappeared, he wasn’t about to complain. Her hair was swept up on top of her head, leaving recalcitrant tendrils to cling to her damp neck. The white terry robe she wore covered her from throat to knee, but it molded to her breasts and hips with just enough cling to encourage his imagination.
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