Читать книгу Bound to Happen - Alison Kent - Страница 8

IN A PERFECT WORLD, thought Sydney Ford, she would plan the most magnificent summer vacation.

She would make her own travel arrangements. She loved the idea of seeing the country by train. She would book her own accommodations. She liked to be pampered, unapologetically so. She would choose her own traveling companion. She longed to share a relaxing week with one of her very best friends.

But the world was not perfect.

Her summer vacation was turning out to be less than magnificent. And she had no one to blame but herself.

Months ago, for some remarkably harebrained reason, she’d had the bright idea to offer a sailing trip on her father’s soon-to-be-sold yacht to the winner of the experimental scavenger hunt organized by gIRL-gEAR.com’s editor, Macy Webb. Knowing the Web site’s gIRL gAMES column would benefit from Macy’s test group’s enthusiasm, Sydney, as gIRL-gEAR CEO, had felt the high-stakes offer made for a savvy business proposition.

One of their mutual friends, Ray Coffey, had won.

And now here Sydney stood, stranded on a Caribbean island, well aware that complaining only served to give her situation a “poor little rich girl” sting.

What work-weary single career woman wouldn’t want to be stranded on a Caribbean island? A private island at that. With a tropical beachfront villa outfitted to sleep ten, a live-in staff and four servings of beefcake among her fellow castaways.

Me, me, me, Sydney wanted to shout. But she sighed, instead, and boosted a hip onto the foot-wide wooden railing of the villa’s first-floor wraparound veranda. A soft evening breeze sifted through her hair and she tucked loose strands behind her ear, inhaling the clean salty essence of the sea.

The sunset was spectacular. She’d never seen a sunset here that wasn’t. Tonight, wispy clouds floated on a palette of soft pastels, though Sydney knew well the intense beauty of sunsets born in fire. The beach was equally amazing—the sand eggshell white, the water the tropical green-tinged blue never found along the Texas Gulf coast.

But even better than the view of the sky and the surf was the view of the three men standing at the shoreline, ankle-deep in the water and staring out to sea. Actually, Sydney mused, they were more than likely staring at the catamaran sailing by several miles off the coast. But she was in a contemplative mood and, therefore, allowed to project.

Each man was similarly dressed. Doug Storey wore navy board shorts with a white-and-gray hibiscus print. Anton Neville’s trunks were of the same cut, but colored in turquoise and hot-island red. Both Doug and Anton were tall with lanky swimmers’ physiques. Anton’s blond hair was a riot of curls. Doug’s, a shade darker, was longer, looser, inviting the touch of a woman’s hands. But it was the last man, the third man, who commanded Sydney’s attention.

Ray Coffey was a big man and beautifully built. The trunks he wore hit him at the knee and were a bright beach yellow with a black piping trim. The vivid color was the perfect contrast for his olive-hued complexion. His brown hair was the color of espresso, rich and thick and cut to fall softly over his brow, his eyes a dark emerald-green. Even from here Sydney could see the way the ocean breeze threaded like a lover’s fingers through the strands. She wondered what time had made of the texture. She wondered what else about him time might have changed.

Sitting on the veranda, she drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. Her brown-and-gold tribal-print sarong fell open, catching on the shrubbery tucked close to the villa and revealing her leg and hip and the edge of her butter-colored bikini bottoms. A softer hue than the yellow Ray wore. But still, yellow. Like Ray wore. The similarity struck her for some strange reason. Especially since she was too practical to believe in intangible, nebulous signs.

The light from the setting sun silhouetted his body, accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and, when he turned to the side…Sydney’s breath caught. Not unexpectedly, but with a sharp visceral hitch that broke her rhythm. Yet, try as she might, she could find no logical explanation for her unusually fierce physical response to Ray. This overreaction had to be an aberration, the island casting a sensual spell. Nothing else came close to making sense.

She wasn’t a stranger to the male body. She wasn’t, in fact, a stranger to Ray’s. But eight years had passed since she’d known his touch. And eight years meant added definition to the muscles of his chest, a chiseled distinction to his abs. Eight years had also thickened the whorls of hair growing low on his belly as well as, no doubt, the nest of hair cushioning his sex.

His trunks rode low on his hips and, standing as he was in profile, Sydney’s gaze was drawn to his flat stomach, his waistband and the impressive bulge beneath. Her imagination followed her wandering eyes and she took a deep breath, unnerved by the way her heart beat like a bass drum in her chest. She stretched out her legs along the railing, crossed her ankles, letting her head fall back to rest against one of the veranda’s support beams.

A relentless tingle settled unmercifully in the core of her belly. She squeezed her legs together and smoothed her palms down the length of her thighs. Even the feel of her own hands caressing her limbs failed to calm her and did, in fact, heighten the sensations simmering beneath the surface of her skin.

Since Ray had reentered her life, unnerved was not an uncommon state in which to find her emotions, just as aroused was not an unusual condition in which to find her body. Neither were comfortable situations. Both she intended to address during the days of this vacation. She had to get him out of her system before they returned to the States.

This obsessive infatuation was beginning to take its toll; her daydreams had recently crossed the line into erotic fantasy, cutting into her concentration in such a way that she feared her work might suffer. She couldn’t allow any relationship, whether one of her imagination’s making or one from the past, to color the business decisions or personal choices she made.

Especially after having seen that very thing happen with her father. She refused to sink to his level of disloyalty—to her business, to her friends or to herself—and was willing to do anything, anything to make sure it didn’t happen. Ray Coffey was becoming the sort of consuming distraction her life didn’t need. Which meant it was time to prove to herself that he wasn’t the lover her memory declared him to be.

This trip had originally been planned to last just over a week and a half. With the Indiscreet docked in Belize City in preparation for its imminent sale, Ray had arranged with the two-person crew for the fifty-seven-foot yacht to circle the western Caribbean, slowly exploring the barrier reef along the coast of Belize before making stops in Jamaica and the Caymans on the return.

In addition to the travel plans, the vacation invitations had been left up to Ray. He’d asked both Anton and Doug to come along, as he was in negotiations with their architectural firm, Neville and Storey, and the trip made for good business, as well as a good time. He’d also asked Jess Morgan, another friend from his core circle of six, all of whom played together on the same adult soccer league.

And then he’d invited Sydney.

She’d been more than tempted—by the trip, yes. Until last year’s falling-out with her father, Nolan, she’d never turned him down when he’d asked her to go sailing. But she’d also been tempted by the prospect of being confined with Ray on the Indiscreet. An intimately innocent confinement, where running from their mutual attraction would mean a trip to the bottom of the sea.

So she’d given him a conditional yes and then invited her three conditions.

Because the six gIRL-gEAR partners were discussing a possible change to the firm’s corporate structure, Sydney had asked Annabel Lee to come along. Annabel, known around the office as Poe, had moved up rapidly through company ranks. She was currently under consideration to replace Chloe Zuniga as vice president of cosmetics and accessories once Chloe launched the new gUIDANCE gIRL mentoring program. Chloe had assured the others that Poe was not the fire-breathing dragon she seemed.

And getting to know Poe away from the office, woman-to-woman, was Sydney’s prime plan.

She’d also invited Lauren Hollister and had done so for two reasons—one obvious, one personal. The first was Ray’s invitation to Anton Neville. After a year in an exclusive relationship, Lauren and Anton had recently split, though it was clear to all their friends that the two were more miserable apart than they’d ever been together.

Matchmaking always had the potential to backfire, but in this case Sydney was willing to take the chance. Lauren was one of Sydney’s gIRL-gEAR partners and she had to consider the company’s well-being, as well as that of her friend. And lately Lauren had been coming to work in body only, leaving her enthusiasm and concentration behind.

But when it came to Lauren, Sydney had an additional consideration. And that was the friendship blossoming between her father and Lauren. The two had been seeing too much of one another for Sydney’s peace of mind. As angry as she was with Nolan, she did love him, and the last thing he needed in his life was another creative, volatile woman. Or an impulsive fling.

Finally, Sydney had coaxed Kinsey Gray into coming along. Kinsey had been a marketing major and had shared several of Sydney’s classes at University of Texas. Now the VP of the company’s sportswear and party-wear divisions, Kinsey had an innate intuition when it came to trends, an uncanny sense of fashion and a slightly offbeat way of looking at the world, which Sydney felt would be a welcome relief to the trip’s inevitable tension.

The tension had begun immediately.

The group of eight vacationers had never made it farther than twelve miles before the Indiscreet developed a problem with its hydraulics. Convenient, actually, that twelve miles, because, before the crew nursed the limping ketch back to Belize City for repairs, Sydney and the others had loaded their supplies into the onboard aluminum dinghy and moved their vacation from yacht to island. Specifically, Coconut Caye, the private twelve-acre island Sydney’s father owned.

Coconut Caye had always been the first planned stop on their itinerary. But it hadn’t been intended as their final—or only—destination. Again Sydney realized she had nothing to complain about. The island was the epitome of paradise. Looking ahead, she had several days to spend doing nothing more than swimming, snorkeling and sunbathing.

And now that she thought about it rationally, logically, instead of with the irritation she’d felt this morning when the Indiscreet had given up the ghost, the change of plans might work to her advantage. The island offered more privacy than she would ever have found on the yacht. And privacy would play nicely into her plans to seduce Ray Coffey. Suddenly, Sydney realized, this adventure held more promise than she’d originally thought when forced to relocate earlier today.

She turned her attention back to the beach, where the three men were now engaged in a round of extreme Frisbee among the coconut palms. She had a dozen other things she could be doing; beach Frisbee was not exactly a spectator sport. Yet, try as she might, she couldn’t tear her gaze from Ray.

He dived to catch Anton’s toss, and Sydney drank in the intoxicating visual. Ray’s long torso extended, delineating his rib cage and hair-dusted pectorals, emphasizing the length of his scar. His reaching arm stretched, beautifully elongating his biceps and forearms. She took in the spread of his fingers when he palmed the Frisbee down to the sand.

Blood surged through Sydney until her nerves hummed wildly from fingers to toes. She wanted him in ways she found surprising. Physical ways that had never been a part of her experience, yet lived vividly in her fantasies. Since his return to Houston late last year, Ray had made it more than clear that the attraction remained mutual, which made Sydney laugh. They’d been so young and innocent that first time….

Sensing movement at her side, she looked up to see she’d been joined on the veranda by Poe, wearing a pair of plain black sarong pants tied well below her waist. Her matching triangle bikini top left little of her porcelain curves to the imagination. She also wore a look of disgust that pulled Sydney’s attention from the beach. “Are you okay?”

“In what context?” Poe asked, dusting her hands together as if to rid them of something unpleasant. “Medically? Financially? Socially?”

Sydney couldn’t help appreciating her co-worker’s theatrical flair. Or her predicament. “In this situation? Socially, for sure.”

Poe rolled her eyes. Irises of near black and a slight almond slant to her lids emphasized her exotic Asian-American looks, as did the slashed angles and layers of hair framing her cheekbones. “Considering I was so looking forward to this trip, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…”

She ruffled both hands through her hair and lifted her chin. “I am thrilled beyond belief to be shipwrecked. We would no doubt have ended up at the bottom of the sea, anyway, once we factored in the weight of the eggshells.”

“Eggshells?” Sydney asked with a frown.

Poe’s elegant brows shot up archly. “To walk on? Don’t tell me you thought fifty-seven feet would be enough room for Lauren and Anton’s emotional baggage. From what I’ve seen so far, even your father’s twelve acres might be a tight fit.”

Sydney felt a sharp pang of guilt. She hadn’t thought the ex-lovers would start tossing verbal barbs the minute the group set sail. And the fact that Anton had been seeing Poe on a casual basis had never factored into Sydney’s decision to invite both women—which it apparently should have. Nothing serious was going on between the two, as everyone but Lauren seemed to know.

“Where is Lauren, anyway?” Sydney asked.

Poe gave a sideways tip of her head. “She’s in the kitchen with Kinsey and Jess. They’re working on…dinner.”

“Great. I’m starving.”

This time Poe took a moment to apparently weigh her appetite against the kitchen skills of the temporary help. “Tell me again what’s happening with the staff? I saw their boat leave earlier, but I was on the Indiscreet packing my things, so I never did hear for sure what was going on.”

Sydney nodded, then indulged in a private smile. Neither Poe nor any of the guests needed to worry about the quality of the meals after this evening’s. “The Duartes. Auralie and Menga. They weren’t expecting us to be here but for the one day and had only stocked limited provisions. When they found out we’d be staying, they had to make a trip to the mainland for supplies. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

Swinging her legs down from the railing, Sydney got to her feet, settling automatically into the role of hostess, which she’d acted here for Nolan so many times. “Wait until you see what Auralie can do with tomatoes, roasted chicken and black beans. Unbelievable.”

Poe cast a wistful glance at her audibly protesting stomach. “I was hoping to eat before tomorrow.”

“I don’t know about Lauren or Jess, but Kinsey’s a decent cook. And if we hurry, we can stop any disaster in the making.”

“If it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon stay out of the kitchen.” Poe dug in her heels. “I’m afraid I’m on Lauren’s hit list, and I’ve learned to be picky about who I let shoot me down.”

Sydney threaded her hands through her hair and fluffed. This fiasco she’d created was rocketing out of control. The time had come to play peacemaker—though she had to admit that spending her vacation in mediation held zero appeal.

There were times she wished she’d inherited less of her father’s mind for negotiation and more of her mother’s in-your-face style. This was one of those times. “Well, then. We’ll just have to trust those three with dinner, won’t we? As scary a thought as that may be.”

“Scary isn’t the half of it,” Poe said with a huff.

“Dinner will be fine.” Sydney adjusted the knot of her sarong. “If not, we can dig into my stash of Rice Krispies treats.”

“And for the next ten days?”

“We’ll have to ration.”

Poe shook her head and moved her hands to her hips. “Not the food. The tension.”

Sydney studied the other woman’s wits-end demeanor, sympathizing with Poe’s uncomfortable plight. “You’re talking about the tension between Lauren and Anton.”

“Between Lauren and Anton. Between Lauren and me. I haven’t had a true, nonworking vacation in years. And I am not about to have this one ruined by this unresolved thing between those two.” Poe looked out toward the beach where the game of Frisbee was still going on.

Then she looked back at Sydney and shrugged. “Anton and I are friends, that’s it. But if I’m going to be tried and convicted of being more, then why shouldn’t I reap the obvious fruits of committing the crime? It’s not like he’s the least bit hard on the eyes.”

Anton was totally gorgeous, Sydney had to agree. But she was also quite sure Poe was perfectly capable of answering her own question. “I think we both know you don’t have it in you to hurt Lauren that way.”

Poe blew out an inelegant snort. “Too bad the reverse isn’t true.”

Sydney’s mouth twisted. “Lauren’s just overly sensitive when it comes to Anton. I doubt she has anything against you personally.”

“Well, either she wants to be with Anton or she doesn’t. She’s trying hard to have it both ways, and it’s hardly fair to the rest of us. I mean, look out there.” Poe lifted her chin, indicating the human scenery—three men whipping the Frisbee across the beach. “Tell me what you see.”

What Sydney saw was more than Poe could imagine. Images that even Sydney wasn’t sure were memories or the creative workings of her mind. And none of her thoughts were anything she wanted to explain or to share. Not with Poe. Not with anyone.

Ray was her fantasy, her mind-candy, as were her plans for his seduction. “Well, I see an absolutely gorgeous tropical sunset. I see a postcard-worthy scene of palm trees and rippling waves and a beach clean enough to eat off. But I have a feeling you’re talking about Anton, Doug and Ray.”

“Exactly.” Poe moved closer to the veranda railing, hitched one hip onto the edge. “Three very appealing possibilities for an exciting vacation fling.”

Sydney had already narrowed her own possibilities down to one. And she had matchmaking plans for a second. Which left Poe only two choices. “You’re forgetting about Jess.”

Poe shook her head. “Not really. I know Anton is off-limits. And as much as it pains me to admit it, I also accept that the fling possibilities will have to be shared.”

“How generous of you,” Sydney replied, working hard to keep a straight face.

“My generosity is limited, trust me. If Lauren blows this chance, I will take full advantage when we get back to the States.”

“Then we’ll just have to make sure she doesn’t blow anything, won’t we.”

“Taking matters into your own hands?” Poe asked, sliding a sly, sideways glance at Sydney.

Sydney lifted one shoulder and casually replied, “I’m thinking about it.”

“Well, while you’re thinking, I believe I will go ahead and give Lauren the wake-up call she needs.” Poe hopped back to her feet. “Unless you have an objection?”

Back home in Houston, with gIRL-gEAR business at stake, Sydney would have more reasons to possibly object. But here and now? Even an unearthly intervention would be welcome. “Will you do me the favor of warning me in advance?”

Poe chuckled. “Consider yourself warned.”

“Fair enough.” Sydney linked her arm through Poe’s. “Now let me show you the sundeck before it’s too dark to get the full effect. I’ve never found a better place to sunbathe.”

The fact that she sunbathed in the nude, Sydney kept to herself. It was a private indulgence she preferred not to share…though there was a man who’d once coaxed her to admit to the habit. She took one last look toward the beefcake on the beach and her hunger stirred. Dinner first. She’d get back to her plans for seducing Ray Coffey soon enough.

RAY TWIRLED the Frisbee on one index finger, listening with half an ear while Anton and Doug, standing three feet away, talked shop. Knowing full well that Sydney sat on the veranda watching the beach play, her long legs and a whole lot more of her gorgeous body exposed, made it difficult for him to keep his eye on the ball. Or, in this case, on the Frisbee.

When he’d won the sailing trip four months ago, he’d known immediately that he wanted Sydney along for the cruise. Hell, his fantasy had started the month before he’d won, when she’d first announced the use of her father’s yacht as the prize for sticking out that ridiculous scavenger hunt. He’d determined that night that he was going to win and spend the week at sea letting Sydney walk his plank.

The stakes had been sweetened when they’d actually been paired up for the hunt and he’d been assigned to discover a list of her deepest, darkest secrets. At that point, the game itself had become the prize, the cruise just a sweet little extra. He’d thought for a couple of months about keeping the guest list that simple. Him and Sydney. The two of them alone, but for the yacht’s minimal crew. Life at its absolute intimate finest.

And then he woke up.

Having Sydney all to himself was his fantasy, not hers. At least, he hadn’t had any vibes saying differently. Since he’d transferred to the Houston Fire Department, in fact, after five years working out of College Station with the Texas Task Force One on urban search and rescue, the only concentrated time they’d had together had been the give-and-take dinner dates devoted to the scavenger hunt.

Ray wasn’t complaining. At least not about that. For one thing, he’d learned enough about her by coaxing her into revealing the details he needed to know to win this trip. And even if their dates had been all about the hunt, they’d given him more one-on-one time with Sydney than he’d ever had—with his clothes on, anyway. No, his complaints were more about the things he hadn’t learned. Things he was bound and determined to find out before they returned home to Texas.

She’d been a year behind him in high school, in his brother Patrick’s class. Yet she’d always seemed years older than the girls his age, the girls he’d dated, even the girls who’d…taken him under their wing during his first year at Texas A&M. And he’d found himself making comparisons, which made no sense, because except for that one time, they’d known each other only casually.

Off to Ray’s side, Doug and Anton continued to discuss developmental possibilities for a new property they’d acquired. Ray continued to feign interest. The sun had reached the edge of the horizon, putting an end to their game and ringing his internal dinner bell. His hunger roused, he glanced again toward the villa, watching as Sydney moved from the veranda railing to her feet.

She was a tall woman, with long limbs that Ray knew fit nicely around his own larger body. Or had nicely fit eight years ago. He’d bulked up since then. And he wasn’t the only one with a body developed by time and working out. Sydney was slender, but not skinny, and had filled out beautifully since his hands had last explored the budding fullness of her curves. The strapless bandeau tube wrapped around her chest hugged her breasts like a soft yellow skin, and his palms itched to skate over the surface, to feel the taut press of her nipples.

When she lifted her arms to run her hands through her hair, exposing both her stomach’s smooth skin and the knot of her sarong riding low on her belly, he barely suppressed a rising groan. When she turned away, giving him a clear view of the strong lines of her back and her narrow waist easily spanned by his hands, he dug his toes into the sand. When she hooked her arm through Poe’s and started to walk away, the sarong snugged tight to her hips and caressing the tight swells of her backside, Ray dropped the Frisbee and looked down, working to catch his breath as hunger grabbed hard between his legs.

Their one night together had followed her high-school graduation and his first year of college, and it hadn’t lasted long enough to be called an affair. But Ray wasn’t sure it qualified as a one-night stand, either. If it had, surely those hours they’d spent tangled naked between the cheap sheets of an even cheaper motel-room bed wouldn’t still linger the way they did in his mind.

They’d been lingering more than usual today since this vacation had become landlocked and since, every time he’d turned around, Sydney had shed more of her clothes. Having looked forward to the sailing trip now for four months, he was surprised he didn’t feel more disappointment at the forced change of plans. He hadn’t been onboard the Indiscreet long enough even to think about getting his sea legs. Which proved he was more interested in the company than in the cruise.

Following Anton and Doug as they headed toward the villa in response to Lauren’s call to, “Come and get it!”, Ray knew he’d be a fool not to take advantage of an opportunity he’d never see again. Sydney had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide, nowhere to be for the next ten days, while he had the luxurious warmth of the sun, the seductive lure of the sea and the lush tropical nights in his favor.

He wasn’t looking for happily-ever-after. He was only looking for answers, and whatever good time they might mutually share. In his line of work, he saw too much tragedy, too many families torn apart by accidents and disaster, both natural and man-made. His own family was no exception, irreparably damaged by his brother’s still-unsolved disappearance three years ago in this very part of the world.

With the chances Ray took on the job, with the risky situations he encountered, he’d be stupid—and selfish—to consider any romantic involvement, to subject a partner to the very real possibility that he might lose his life on the job. He didn’t have it in him to give Sydney or any woman a long-term promise, for her sake, as well as his own. Not when life was so fragile. Not when the loss of Patrick had shown him the truth of personal suffering for those left behind.

And he sure didn’t have to involve his heart to enjoy his time here with Sydney. He knew that for certain. He’d been her first lover, a fact he hadn’t appreciated fully at the time. He’d had his hands too full of her body to question his luck or her decision. But before they returned to the States, he intended to get the answers he needed about that night. Like why she hadn’t returned his phone calls afterward. And why she’d haunted his memory ever since.

But most of all why, out of all the guys “Ice Queen” Sydney Ford had said no to, had she wrapped her arms around his neck and said yes.

DINNER THAT FIRST NIGHT at the villa on Coconut Caye was one of the more intense meals Ray remembered sitting through. The men, along with Poe and Kinsey, had carried the conversation, sharing tales of past vacations gone bad.

Among the six of them, they’d seen more than a few ports of call on more than a few continents and had faced lost luggage, mistaken identities and bungled reservations from car to hotel.

So far Lauren hadn’t said a thing. She’d never even met Anton’s gaze.

Sydney had talked, but not a lot, as if carefully weighing the import of what she had to say against the mystery of remaining silent. The mystery, of course, was all in Ray’s mind, driven by her refusal to hold his gaze when their eyes met. Every time he glanced her way, he caught her staring. He even caught her looking back before he’d turned away.

Her expression teased him, the way she slowly lowered her lashes, the way her nostrils seemed to flare. The way her chin came up and her lips lightly parted. Even the way she lounged so casually, invitingly, one elbow braced on the chair back, her head propped in her hand, her crossed leg swinging with a motion that lifted, then lowered the gap in her sarong.

Ray couldn’t decide if he was amused or intrigued. But he was definitely working on aroused, as he had been since they’d set sail this morning. Or, more accurately, as he had been every time they’d been in the same room since he’d introduced himself to her beneath the oak tree in Boom Daily’s backyard eight long years ago.

There was just something about Sydney Ford that Ray couldn’t get his mind around to figure out. The things he’d known about Sydney as a girl didn’t mesh at all with what he’d learned recently from her father. Or what he knew about her as the CEO of gIRL-gEAR.

He wasn’t sure the remaining days of this vacation would be enough time to reconcile his curiosity with the facts, but damned if he wouldn’t be giving it his best shot, he mused. He forced his gaze from Sydney and back to the others as, one at a time, they finished up the meal of grilled steak and tossed salad put together at the last minute by Kinsey and Lauren, with questionable help from Jess.

Kinsey, at least, had no trouble making or maintaining eye contact with anyone at the table. And Poe—Poe had upped the stakes and was making contact with her body, Ray realized, as she got up to clear the table and leaned over Doug’s shoulder to reach for an empty serving bowl.

Doug had pulled on a sleeveless shirt before sitting down to the impromptu dinner. Poe still wore her black bikini top. She brushed the barely covered swell of her breast against his barely covered shoulder. Ray couldn’t say the move was made on purpose, but she didn’t seem the least bit self-conscious about a touch that made Doug’s eyes bulge.

In fact, now hugging the salad bowl to her middle, her hip cocked to the side, Poe glanced around the room with one brow arched and a twist to her mouth that Ray could’ve sworn meant trouble in paradise. Leaning into the forearm he’d braced on the table, he toyed with his steak knife, swirling the pointed tip in the sauce on his plate, smiling as he waited to find out exactly what she was up to. He didn’t have to wait long.

“Is it just me,” she said, looking from one man, one woman to the next, her dark eyes sparkling with indescribable mischief, “or do the rest of you get a sense that there is an unhealthy level of sexual tension in the air?”

After several silent seconds, Doug burst out laughing. Anton followed suit, snickering behind his hand, which had Lauren fuming and Sydney crossing her arms beneath her bandeau top and fighting to keep a straight face. All Ray could do was sit back and enjoy the show.

“At least it appears to be sexual.” Poe gave a light shrug and started gathering up utensils. “I could be wrong, but I think the facts speak for themselves.”

“Uh, Poe, what facts are you talking about?” Kinsey asked, prodding Jess’s rib cage with her elbow and glaring when he leaned over and started breathing heavily into her ear. “Enough of that, mister. If I need heating up, I’ll let you know.”

Jess laughed. Sydney laughed. Even Poe laughed, this time leaning between Kinsey and Anton, giving Anton a dose of Doug’s medicine while stacking the used dinner plates.

“The facts as I see them are that we’re in the tropics, on a gorgeous island, surrounded by sand and surf, an incredible moonrise, a soft ocean breeze. And we’re staring at each other and a table of dirty dishes when we could be having a lot of extracurricular fun.”

With that, Poe headed for the kitchen—a huge open-air affair separated from the main dining area by a wide serving bar—leaving the others speechless, but only for a second or two, then everyone started talking at once.

“Extracurricular works for me,” Jess said, leaning in closer toward Kinsey again, nuzzling his face against her bare shoulder and making whimpering puppy-dog sounds.

Wearing a bright-red tank top with her khaki drawstring shorts, Kinsey patted his head accordingly. Then she threaded her fingers into his hair and used the hold to pull his head from her shoulder. Her smile was a show of bared teeth. “What part of ‘enough’ don’t you understand?”

Jess sighed and slumped in his chair. “Does that mean extracurricular is out of the question?”

Eyes rolling, Kinsey could only shake her head. “You’re hopeless and I give up.”

Doug, being a guy, was more in tune with Jess’s plight and told him so. “What it means, buddy, is that you’ll have to take matters into your own hands.”

A round of groans and cries of “Gross! Eww! Yuck!” went up from the women. Ray found himself chuckling under his breath. Then he found himself glancing at Sydney…and found her gaze focused on him. Not on Doug or on Kinsey or on Jess. Not even on Poe, whom Ray could hear rummaging around behind him in the kitchen cabinets.

No, Sydney was concentrating solely on him. And doing so with a look that wasn’t the least bit shy or evasive. He would’ve said she was flirting, but her expression was hardly that simple. What he saw in her eyes was more of an invitation, a sultry temptation to join her in sin. Her blue eyes sparkled, her wide mouth offered him a private smile that spoke of the intimacies they’d shared long ago.

He wanted to ask her what she wanted, what she was trying to say. He wanted to growl his frustration with this vacation that was becoming too crowded. But he had too much of an audience, and before he could get to his feet and pull Sydney along with him out onto the veranda, Poe returned from the kitchen.

Her rummaging had produced a serving tray bearing eight highball glasses, a decanter of bourbon, another of water and a bucket of ice. Standing behind the chair she’d occupied earlier, she set the tray in the center of the table.

“Now,” she said, continuing the conversation she’d dropped like a bomb. “Since none of us are sleeping together, let’s get drunk and talk about sex.”