Touch and Go

by Michelle Rowen

  “You feel so good,” he said with effort. “You’re so damn beautiful, Carrie. You make me crazy.”

  She couldn’t speak at the moment. Only feel. She’d never been taken like this before. It felt wanton, naughty…incredible.

  If she hadn’t been wearing her goddess-given ring, he wouldn’t be able to touch her at all, let alone make her feel like this.

  It didn’t take long for her to see stars—literal and figurative—as she felt the waves of her second orgasm roll through her. She knew she screamed his name again, although she wasn’t sure how loud.

  His hands came up to squeeze her breasts through the thin fabric of her gauzy dress.

  “Carrie—” Her name was a guttural cry as she felt the shudder of his release.

  She turned her face to his and met his lips, his tongue sliding against hers.

  “Thank you,” he whispered.

  She smiled languidly. “You’re very, very welcome.”

  She saw something flicker in his gaze, and it wasn’t only gratitude. It looked rawer than that.

  “You make me lose control,” he said.

  “The feeling’s mutual.” She turned and wrapped her arms around him to pull him close, then drew his mouth down to hers. Kissing Patrick was in her top ten favorite things to do. Right at the top, actually.

  She wrapped her hand around his cock—another one of her new favorite things—and began to stroke his length, already feeling him start to get hard again.

  He groaned his approval, his lips against her throat. “You’re insatiable.”

  She smiled wickedly. “You have no idea.”

  “There is that hot tub in my room that Will made sure to mention when we arrived.”

  “I believe you asked for separate rooms. On separate floors.”

  “I was trying to be professional.”

  “You were trying to avoid me.”

  “And now I desperately want you naked in my hot tub with your legs wrapped around my waist.”

  “It’s sounding better and better all the time.” She traced her finger over his throat and down to the silver amulet he wore.

  He followed her gaze. “We’re not talking about that.”

  The uneasy feeling that he was using a magic charm to solve his problems bubbled up inside of her again. It just didn’t feel right to her, not at all.

  “You’re in denial,” she said softly. “Please talk to me about this.”

  “I can’t.” He turned his face away.

  “Using this isn’t fixing a problem. It is the problem.”

  “That’s your opinion.”

  “If you just try to see it from another point of view—”

  “Actually, the only point of view I have currently is my own. And I’m the only one who’ll have to deal with the consequences if I didn’t have the healing charm.”

  “But Patrick, you’re in denial—”

  His expression darkened. “No. Actually, I think you’re the one in denial if you think I’m ever giving this up.”

  He wasn’t even willing to consider other options. And now that she wore the ring, he could touch her, make love to her—he was having his cake and eating it, too.

  The thought didn’t make her feel good.

  Her gaze flicked up to his. She adjusted her clothing and nodded. “I think the hot tub can wait for another time.”

  Much like the storm earlier, his anger seemed to leave as quickly as it had come. “Carrie…”

  She raked a hand through her hair and felt a lump of emotion at the back of her throat. But she wasn’t going to cry. It had been seven long years since she’d cried over a man she cared about. “We’re going back home tomorrow. What happened here between us…don’t worry about it. It’s just a fling. I’m okay with that. You can return to your land of denial and not have to worry about having me as your partner to mess things up for you.”

  He clenched his jaw. “Now you’re the one being irrational.”

  “I’m tired. It’s been a long day. Thanks for—for dinner. I’ll catch up with you in the morning.”

  She turned away from him and headed down the beach toward Violet Shores. For a moment she wished he’d run to catch up to her, but wasn’t surprised when he didn’t.

  14

  PATRICK STOOD BY THE window in his room. If he strained his neck he could almost see the ridge of rock where he’d made love to Carrie earlier. He could still feel her. Still taste her. Still smell her.

  She haunted him.

  He stared at the phone. He wasn’t used to using a landline. As soon as he got back to Mystic Ridge, he’d replace his BlackBerry. Until then, this would have to do.

  He should call Carrie’s hotel room, talk to her, apologize to her.

  What was he apologizing for, again?

  What wasn’t he apologizing for?

  Bottom line, as much trouble as Carrie was—stubborn, curious, distractingly sexy—he felt happier than he had in a very long time. And he knew it had very little to do with the tropical scenery.

  It was Carrie herself. Just thinking about her made him feel good. Even thinking about how pissed off she must be with him at the moment made him smile. Two could play the stubborn game.

  His smile faded as he remembered their argument. He touched his healing charm, running his fingertips over the familiar carved surface.

  She didn’t understand why he needed this. She hadn’t been around when he was in the wheelchair, dealing with painful physio sessions. He wondered if she would have looked twice at him then and seen past his problems. If she would have been willing to wait for him to improve, or like his ex-fiancée, taken the first opportunity to walk out the door and not look back.

  It didn’t really matter. He wasn’t in the wheelchair anymore. The healing charm might come with its own set of issues, but thanks to Erzulie’s strange but helpful interference, Patrick now could make love to Carrie—and only Carrie.

  Fortunately, she also was the only person he wanted to make love to. As far as he was concerned, it was a win-win situation.

  He’d give her tonight to cool off. Tomorrow, however, it would be time to heat things up again.

  “ARE YOU LOOKING FOR Patrick?”

  Carrie turned to see Will approach her on the patio the next morning. “Have you seen him?”

  “He was jogging on the beach earlier. You’re leaving today?”

  “Yes.”

  “When’s your flight?”

  “Four o’clock.” She gave him her full attention. “Since the amulet was destroyed yesterday, have you noticed any change around here?”

  He glanced around the empty grounds. Even the feuding honeymooners from two days ago seemed to have cleared out. “Afraid not. The phone hasn’t rung once for a new reservation. Being that it’s getting close to Valentine’s Day, that’s not a good sign for a couples resort.”

  Her heart sank. “I’m so sorry.”

  Will gave her a slight smile. “I was convinced it was Erzulie’s work, but I guess I was wrong. Maybe this place is just unpopular and it’s only a coincidence that honeymooners find out they hate each other when they’re here. That’s possible. I can deal.”

  “Can you?”

  He nodded. “I don’t really have any other choice, do I? If Violet was still here, do you know what she’d tell me to do?”

  “What?”

  “She’d tell me to stop being a stubborn ass and sign those papers, take the money the Loa Loa is offering, and hightail it the hell out of here.”

  “But you’re not going to do that?”

  Instead of an outright denial, he looked thoughtful. “I don’t know anymore.”

  “Your wife sounds like she was a wonderful woman.”

  “I was a lucky man. True love from the moment I first saw her.” He smiled wistfully at the memory. “I knew at that moment we’d be together forever. Funny how forever is never as long as you think it’s going to be.”

  His pain was palpable and made her chest t
ight. “I’m so sorry.”

  “And I don’t really care what Patrick says about the two of you wanting separate rooms…” He eyed her. “There’s something going on. I’m not blind. I see the way you look at each other. Are you in love with him?”

  She inhaled sharply at the blunt question. “You’re getting a bit personal, aren’t you?”

  He didn’t look all that guilty. “Sorry. I like to live vicariously through other people’s love affairs these days. I can spot romance from a mile away, and it’s not just because I own and operate a honeymoon resort.”

  “It’s not like that with me and Patrick.” She tried to sound convincing when she felt anything but.

  “How is it, then? Humor a widower who’s down on his luck.”

  Will was prying but charming. It was a lethal combination. “When I’m with him he manages to get under my skin like nobody I’ve known before.”

  “Sounds promising.”

  “He makes me feel like I’m the only one in the world when we’re…well, never mind.”

  “Let’s keep it G-rated for the time being.”

  She grinned. “I really like him.”

  “Just like?”

  She crossed her arms and scanned the surroundings. Where the hell was Patrick? His morning jog should be long over by now. “Admitting to anything more would be extremely detrimental to my self-esteem.”

  “Love can’t be denied, it can’t be repressed. It simply is. And when it’s gone—” he swallowed and took a moment before continuing “—that’s when you realize how much it meant to you and how you’ll never get it back, especially when you see others who’ve found it.”

  Carrie felt a heavy press of emotion. Will’s words were so raw it was as if he’d lost his beloved wife a day ago, not a year. He was still in deep mourning for Violet. It hurt her to see this and she felt a tear slip down her cheek. She touched it and stared down at her fingers, surprised since she never cried.

  She wanted to tell Will that losing someone special was heartbreaking, but life had to go on. He would meet a new woman, someone who would make him happy again. She felt loneliness coming off him in waves, and it made her cold despite the heat of the morning.

  “I need to think,” Will said. “About the future of Violet Shores. Maybe I’m making the wrong decision trying to keep it open.”

  “Maybe,” she reluctantly agreed.

  “And maybe you’re making the wrong decision by not facing up to your true feelings about Patrick and putting aside any differences you might have.”

  She eyed him for a long moment. “Maybe.”

  He smiled. “See? I knew it. It’s like I have a serious sixth sense when it comes to romance.”

  She tried not to laugh. “Don’t be smug.”

  “I’m not. Here he comes now. Remember what I said about the hot tubs.”

  “Mine’s busted. I tried it last night.”

  “Oh.” He frowned. “I’ll have to check that out.” He passed Patrick as he approached. “How’s your hot tub?”

  Patrick looked at him. “It’s broken, I think.”

  “This place is falling apart and I can’t even blame it on a curse anymore.” Will glanced over his shoulder at Carrie. “Talk to you later, before you leave.”

  “Okay.” Her gaze shifted to Patrick, who looked mouthwateringly gorgeous in a crisp white shirt and dark blue pants. “Morning.”

  “Good morning.”

  “All packed?”

  “I am. You?”

  “I’m leaving it to the last minute. I like a little excitement in my life.”

  “Listen, about last night—”

  She raised a hand. “Conversations that start like that are never headed in a good direction. Let’s just forget about it.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  “Really. I don’t want to fight with you.”

  “Color me surprised.”

  “Any more impromptu visits from Erzulie?”

  “I think she’s vacated the premises.”

  Something caught Carrie’s eye and she glanced over the half wall to the beach. The man who’d been here the other day, the one with the camera from the Loa Loa, was digging in the sand with his foot. After a moment, he leaned over and snatched something up off the ground that glinted like gold in the sunlight.

  “Who’s that?” Patrick asked, following her gaze.

  “He was here the other day with the woman, Ruby, from the Loa Loa. His name’s Diego. Will wanted him to leave…seemed really insistent when he was taking pictures.”

  “What’s he doing?”

  “No idea.”

  “You still think the Loa Loa has something to do with the curse here?”

  She looked at him. “Burying something on Will’s property would be a good way to plant a curse, wouldn’t it?”

  “Depends on what he’s burying. If it’s an amulet like Erzulie’s, burying it is the best way to dampen its powers.”

  “What about other magical objects?”

  “Something to keep potential customers away?”

  She nodded. “For instance.”

  “Those would work best in a stationary position. Even under a layer of sand.”

  She watched carefully as Diego held a cell phone to his ear.

  “I have it,” he said.

  Carrie and Patrick exchanged a glance. When Diego glanced in their direction, Patrick pulled her to the side so they wouldn’t be seen.

  “Sounds like he was sent to retrieve something important,” Carrie whispered.

  “I don’t know. Maybe it’s nothing.”

  “Listen, I know we already did our job here. Will thought it was the Erzulie amulet and we retrieved and destroyed it as requested. Mission accomplished. But nothing’s changed. He’s still in danger of losing his property. If we’ve just discovered a lead that can break this case open, then we should follow it.”

  She expected him to argue, to go by the book until the bitter end like any boss would. After all, Patrick used to be the agency manager at PARA and would have wanted his agents to follow company protocol.

  “We have a flight at four,” Patrick said.

  “That’s six whole hours away.”

  “We need to be at the airport no later than three.”

  “Five hours.”

  “Taxi.”

  “Fine. Four hours.”

  He met her gaze and a smile played across the lips that Carrie had dreamed about kissing last night. “We have four hours to investigate your hunch. That’s it.”

  She nodded. “That should be more than enough time.”

  “You work fast.”

  “I’m going to try.” She glanced over at Diego, who had moved further along the beach and was about to walk along a pathway leading toward the Loa Loa. “Come on. We’re following him.”

  “Lead the way.”

  15

  THEY STAYED FAR ENOUGH behind that Diego didn’t seem to realize he was being followed. Not surprisingly, he headed directly for the Loa Loa.

  “So what do you suggest we do?” Patrick asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “If this is the answer we’ve been looking for, if they’ve been messing around with some sort of spell to make Will want to sell his resort to them, then what do we do?”

  “Are you testing me right now? Is this part of my PARA training?”

  “Perhaps. I’m seeing what your instincts tell you.”

  She racked her brain. “Is that sort of thing illegal?”

  “No. The police don’t recognize magic as a crime. They don’t believe in it.”

  “Why not?”

  He shook his head. “It’s very rare and often hard to prove.”

  “But that’s why PARA’s around.”

  “Yes, of course. We’re funded privately, though. Most people think we’re a sham.”

  “I used to think that.” She smiled. “It was one of the reasons I asked for the story about you way back when. I
was very—how’s the best way to put it?—skeptical when I first met you and found out you were a psychic.”

  “But I proved it to you.”

  “You did.” Her smile widened at the memory of holding hands with him in the bistro. “I guess I liked things to make sense in my life. And when they didn’t, I didn’t really want much to do with them.”

  “And now?”

  “Now not much of anything makes sense.” She laughed quietly. “You, for example.”

  “In what way?”

  “All ways.”

  His open expression shuttered. “I don’t want to discuss my healing charm again.”

  “I didn’t bring it up.”

  He sighed. “We all have our crosses to bear, Carrie.”

  “Tell me about it. I’m dealing with a curse of my own at the moment, aren’t I?”

  “I wouldn’t really call it a curse.”

  “Then what would you call it?”

  A glimmer of a smile returned to his lips. “An interesting situation.”

  “The fact that when I get turned on things start flying around? That I conjured a storm out of nowhere yesterday that nearly got us killed?” Her amusement faded. “Anytime I get all emotional there might be a serious disaster.”

  “Erzulie told me it’s only a temporary situation. What she did to you will fade in time. And it’s not simply when you’re emotional. It’s more specific than that.”

  “When I get emotional about…you.” She looked at him. She already knew that little detail. She didn’t need it confirmed by the goddess.

  He shrugged but didn’t meet her gaze. “So if you want to avoid this little extension of your ability, it’s very simple. Just stay clear of me until it passes.”

  “And what if I don’t want to?”

  He raised an eyebrow at her. “Excuse me?”

  “What if I don’t want to stay away from you until it passes? What if I don’t want to stay away from you at all?”

  He held her gaze for a long silent moment. “Come on, let’s not lose him.”

  Diego disappeared around a corner. Carrie and Patrick stayed twenty feet behind him as he entered through the glass front doors of the Loa Loa.

  Carrie could see at a glance why the place did more business than Will. The stunningly beautiful resort was five-star all the way. Violet Shores was nice enough, but with faulty hot tubs and motorboats constantly in for repairs—one of which currently resided at the bottom of the ocean—it didn’t hold a candle to the tourist appeal of the Loa Loa.