Читать книгу Wild Fantasy - Janelle Denison - Страница 9

“LET’S SEE…” The overly voluptuous redhead in tight pink spandex licked her lips as her gaze raked up and down the length of Mitch’s body. “If I had to take a guess I’d say that you’re the male exotic dancer.”

Mitch winced inwardly, having been pegged as a “stripper” by three different women in the span of half an hour. “No, I’m an auto broker.”

“What a waste of a great body.” The woman with “Rita” written on her name tag shook her head, obviously disappointed that he didn’t take his clothes off for a living.

She glanced down at the paper in her hand once more, consulting the list of hobbies and individual interests each person on Wild Fantasy had contributed in order to participate in that evening’s “singles’ mixer.” The event was a getting-to-know-you icebreaker to get everyone better acquainted with participants of the opposite sex before selecting their weeklong partner at the end of the night. If it wasn’t for the fact that Mitch was assured Nicole as a partner, he might have changed his mind about this whole fantasy and charity business. The singles scene had never been his thing, and he’d yet to meet a woman he had any desire to spend an evening with, let alone an entire week.

So far, his experience on Wild Fantasy was proving not only to be interesting and surprisingly relaxing, but amusing as well. Other than being sized-up as a potential partner and possible plaything for the week, he was enjoying the luxuries offered by the resort and the fun, laid-back atmosphere of the island. He hadn’t known just how badly he’d needed a vacation until the moment he’d stepped off the commuter plane and the tranquility and hospitality of the island had enveloped him.

He’d arrived earlier that day on a separate flight from Nicole. He’d spent the afternoon unpacking then walking the grounds, taking in the lush beauty of the island and familiarizing himself with the fabulous amenities included in his vacation package, a vacation that was his own private fantasy. One that had been incredibly easy to put into writing once he’d agreed to this spontaneous getaway.

He was going to thoroughly enjoy this week away from business and the real world. Leaving responsibilities and obligations in the hands of his younger brother had been extremely difficult to do after eight years of holding tight to the reins of Executive Fleet Auto Sales, but Mitch was determined to embrace a whole lot of fun, pleasure and all the potential this incredibly sensual island had to offer. He’d become used to taking care of everything and everyone else, but now he was going to do something for himself for a change, without an ounce of guilt or worry to hamper the experience.

And his decision to enjoy himself included finally discovering if the strong chemistry between him and Nicole could be taken any further than the flirting they’d engaged in for much too long. He’d refrained from asking her out on a date a few years ago, but this vacation afforded him a chance to make up for that regret, as well as the opportunity to pursue Nicole at his own leisure and in his own way.

All or nothing. Mitch had meant what he’d said, in more ways than just giving one hundred percent to the charity events and competitions. For years he’d sensed a depth to Nicole buried beneath a cloak of complex, multifaceted emotions he’d only seen glimpses of so far. Now he wanted to peel away each fascinating layer, until he revealed precisely what had molded this incredible woman into who and what she was. Not that he expected her to make the discovery process easy on him. He had no doubt Nicole would try to thwart his attempts every step of the way.

Rita looked back up at him, hope and excitement mingling in her eyes. “You’re in the auto business, right?” she asked, repeating the information he’d just given her. “Then you must be the one who owns a Ferrari!”

“Nope,” he replied, watching as her interest in him gradually dwindled with each question he refuted. “I drive a Ford Excursion.”

Frowning at his choice of vehicle—she apparently preferred fast sports cars—she perused the list of data again.

Two questions down, one more to go, Mitch thought wryly. After the third wrong guess the general rule was to recirculate within the group of guests, unless there was a mutual attraction the two people agreed they wanted to explore further. No worry of that happening with Rita, thank goodness.

Rita lifted her gaze from her notes and graced him with a sly smile. “I bet you like to wear leather beneath your clothes, don’t you?”

The restricting and very uncomfortable image that popped into Mitch’s mind made him grimace. “Sorry. I’m strictly a cotton brief kind of guy.”

“Too bad.” Sighing in defeat, she moved on to another male guest with long hair, a goatee and a pumped-up physique. The first words out of her mouth were, “I’ll bet you’re the male exotic dancer.”

Chuckling at the woman’s relentless quest to find the stripper in the group, Mitch continued to mingle in order to look as though he was searching for his perfect match for the week. The variety of women he met ranged from sweet and shy to the more direct and brash. They exchanged information on their lists to learn more about one another, and while he found a few of the women very nice and likeable, none of them so much as kindled anything more than friendly interest.

The only woman he wanted to be paired up with was Nicole, and so far she’d done an exemplary job of avoiding him since arriving on the island. But as it was getting late and couples were starting to sign up as partners for the charity event, Mitch decided it was time to stake his own claim on the woman he desired—a gorgeous, sexy, spirited woman that would be all his for a week.

Strolling around the large, outdoor courtyard that had been set up for the welcome reception, he perused the crowd for a certain evasive, blond beauty. Torches illuminated the area, casting flickering light over the elaborate buffet of food and the dance floor, which was already half full with couples who’d paired off and were enjoying the soft rock tunes the band was playing. An occasional balmy breeze sifted through the palms and lush foliage, bringing with it the fragrant scent of tropical flowers and something more illusive and seductive…like wild, forbidden fantasies.

The familiar sound of vibrant, teasing laughter stimulated a very basic male response in Mitch—the kind of heated anticipation directly linked to Nicole. Glancing to the left, he found the object of his search flirting with a group of eager men vying for her attention.

Considering how fresh and energetic she looked, even after having spent the better part of the day traveling from Denver to Florida, he could easily see why those men had flocked to her. She was wearing a white eyelet top that played peekaboo with her flawless, tanned flesh shimmering in the torchlight, and the rounded neckline displayed her full, rounded breasts in a way that was enticing, yet innocently provocative. Slim pink capri pants hugged her hips, thighs and calves, outlining a centerfold figure, and strappy, heeled sandals boosted her height a few inches, making her legs seem endlessly long.

One of the men leaned close to say something to her, and another burst of amused laughter rent the air. Then she slanted the other man a coy look, and the possessive spark that jolted through Mitch took him completely off guard. He’d never been the jealous type with women, but much to his surprise he was feeling a tad territorial where Nicole was concerned. The sensation was a novelty, but one he didn’t find at all intrusive. In fact, he welcomed the potent mix of desire and need she inspired, knowing he had a week with her to sate every emotion, curiosity and craving she evoked.

Giving the list of feminine traits, hobbies and interests one last cursory glance, and picking out the tidbit that best reflected Nicole, he sauntered up to the gathering and interrupted her little soirée. The three men hoping to claim Nicole as their partner didn’t look happy to have yet another rival in their midst.

He made a place for himself next to Nicole and his arm brushed hers, making his presence known. “Mind if I join your group?” he asked her specifically, knowing the company she was currently keeping would object if they could.

She gave him a slow once-over and bestowed one of those dazzling smiles of hers on him, but there was nothing in her expression that gave away the fact that they knew each other. “Not at all. The more the merrier.” She held out her hand for him to shake. “I’m Nicole Britton.”

He slipped his hand into hers, savoring the soft, supple feel of her flesh against his rougher fingertips. He inhaled deeply, and the ripe, luscious scent of apricots assailed him. Despite having enjoyed a small feast from the buffet earlier, his stomach growled hungrily, but his sudden appetite had nothing to do with food and everything to do with her. She smelled good enough to eat, every bare inch of her, and he couldn’t help wondering if her skin tasted as sweet and tempting as the fragrance teasing his senses.

He wanted to find out. Seduction and surrender played tug-of-war between their clasped hands and their clashing gazes. Nothing new there as far as the two of them and their attraction went. A lazy smile edged the corner of his mouth, and she watched his lips with a combination of fascination and guardedness. Her reticence made him even more determined to take this opportunity away from the real world, free from familial expectations, to explore what was between them.

His blood pumped heavily in his veins, and if the subtle way she tried to finagle her hand back from his grasp was any indication, she was just as affected by their silent, sensual exchange. And that was enough for him. For now.

Finally, he released her hand and introduced himself, shattering that breathless spell that had held them both momentarily immobile. “Mitch Lassiter,” he returned, following her lead in keeping their association anonymous. “Has anyone figured out which bit of personal information is yours?”

“Not yet.” She tossed her head back in an attempt to restore her composure, and ticked off the failed guesses so far on her fingers. “I’ve been pegged as a model, someone thought I loved to travel abroad, and another person believed that I’ve jumped out of a cake for someone’s bachelor party.”

She grinned at the three other men, seemingly enjoying the fact that she’d stumped all of them. “Can’t say I’ve ever done any of those things, but the last suggestion certainly sounds like a whole lot of fun.”

And being the unabashed woman she was, it wasn’t hard for Mitch to visualize her as a bachelor’s fantasy, dressed in something skimpy that would show off her sinuous body. The only problem was, Mitch wanted it to be his fantasy she fulfilled. “Care if I take a guess of my own?”

She turned toward him, initially surprised by his question. Then she shrugged and an impudent light in her eyes replaced her hesitation. “Go right ahead. Give it your best shot.”

Clearly, she didn’t think him capable of nailing her contribution to the list of personal information he held in his hand. While he had no idea if his guess was accurate, it suited her competitive, athletic nature the best. “You’ve tried out for the women’s Olympic swim team.”

Her mouth opened, then promptly closed. He’d stunned her into speechlessness, which was a first between them. While he would have loved to rib her over that, he kept to their pretense of being strangers in front of their audience. The last thing he wanted to do was get them disqualified before they’d even had a chance to compete together.

“Wow,” she breathed, her tone awed. “You’re very good.”

“So I’ve been told,” he drawled, winking at her.

She sent her admirers a quick grin. “It looks like this is the guy for me. If you’ll excuse us, I’d like to get to know Mr. Lassiter better.”

The other men conceded defeat and broke apart to find other potential partners. The band leader announced that they’d be taking a break and that Merrilee would be arriving in a few moments to greet everyone and go over a few last-minute rules for the upcoming competition. The man encouraged guests to take advantage of the dessert buffet and open bar, and when Nicole did just that, drifting toward the table laden with various sweets and confections, Mitch followed, noticing her rare bout of quietness.

Nicole cast him a surreptitious glance as she picked up a small plate then selected a puff pastry with cream filling, drizzled with chocolate icing. “How did you know?” she asked, her tone so soft he almost didn’t hear her question.

He tipped his head, not sure what she was asking. “How did I know what?”

“That I tried out for the women’s Olympic swim team.” She concentrated on choosing another dessert, this time opting for a small brownie square layered with caramel. “Trying out for the U.S. team was something that happened before our mothers met and became friends. Unless my mother mentioned it to Joyce, and she mentioned it to you.”

There was something in her voice he couldn’t quite decipher, something between hesitancy and insecurity, and he found it interesting that she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “No, my mother never said a word, which means I doubt she knows anything about you trying out for the team. It was an educated guess, based on what I know about you. You’re into sports and very athletic, so it seemed like a logical assumption.”

“Like I said, you’re very good, and intuitive.” She licked a smudge of caramel from her thumb, her tongue slowly removing the sticky sweetness in a way that ignited a smoldering heat in Mitch’s belly.

He wanted to know more, wanted to discover as much as he could about this complex woman and what made her tick. Including her drive and ambitions. “But this slip of paper doesn’t say whether or not you made the team.”

She visibly tensed at his comment and took her time savoring a bite of the pastry. “I never expected anyone to guess that information about me.” Her reply was flippant, and very ambiguous.

“It’s your own fault for putting that interesting tidbit out there for speculation,” he argued lightly as he snagged a small lemon cheesecake square from the dessert table. “I guessed correctly, fair and square, so I think you owe me an answer.” He bit into the sweet-tart confection and waited patiently for her reply.

Her chin lifted stubbornly, defiantly, in a way that was, no doubt, meant to waylay him. “Why are you being so persistent about this?”

He popped the last of his dessert into his mouth and chewed, not at all daunted by her terse tone. “Now that you and I are pairing up as a couple, I want to get to know you better.”

The look she shot him brimmed with skepticism. “Why?”

His gaze swept the area, taking in the other couples laughing and conversing with each other. “Isn’t that the purpose of this singles’ mixer?”

“Maybe for those who honestly want to get to know one another.”

“And if I honestly do?” he asked, his voice low and sincere, snaring her attention. He stared into her wide, searching eyes, letting his intentions toward her, his honest interest, dangle between them for a few consuming seconds. “It’s a simple question, Nicole. Yes or no would cover it just fine.”

Her straight teeth tugged on her lower lip, scraping off a crumb of chocolate. “How about yes and no?”

He chuckled and shook his head, not at all surprised by her answer that wasn’t an answer at all. “How about you’re being deliberately evasive?”

With a sigh she glanced away, making a production of setting her empty plate at the end of the buffet table. The flickering flames of a nearby torch illuminated the delicate lines of her profile, accentuating her natural beauty and making her suddenly appear vulnerable, which was a novel concept with Nicole.

Contradicting that too-brief glimpse of vulnerability he’d witnessed, she boldly found his gaze again. “I did make the team,” she revealed, sounding proud of that fact. “But a week after qualifying, I shattered my wrist in a car accident. The healing process was excruciating and physical therapy took months. By the time I was ready to return to the team I’d been replaced.”

Ahh, a fleeting victory that had been double-edged and bittersweet, he realized. Her regret was palpable, and he ached to reach out and offer a bit of comfort for what she’d lost. He gave in to the urge. With infinite gentleness he brushed back a few strands of hair that wisped along her silken cheek. His knuckles caressed her warm, smooth skin, and her breath hitched on a startled gasp, as if she wasn’t used to such tenderness, as if letting someone get that close emotionally went against that tough facade of hers.

He was beginning to see traces of a much softer side. Despite her reserve with him, despite her sassy mouth, she was in need of a whole lot of tenderness, and touching, and the kind of understanding and acceptance that came without expectations.

And he wanted to give it to her.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, letting his fingers drift along her jaw before falling away. “That must have been rough.”

She visibly shook off the melancholy that had overcome her. “Definitely disappointing. For me, and especially my father who had high hopes of me winning a medal.” The smile that found its way to her lips did nothing to chase away the lingering sadness glimmering in the depths of her smoky green eyes.

She’d had high hopes, too, he realized. And he couldn’t help but wonder how much of that longing of hers had to do with capturing a medal for herself, or pleasing her father. Before he could pose the question to find out, their host and the owner of Fantasies, Inc. arrived at the singles’ mixer. Stepping up to the microphone, Merrilee smiled engagingly and greeted her guests.

“Good evening, everyone.” A gradual hush fell over the crowd as she spoke, and all eyes trained on her. While Merrilee appeared to be in her mid-fifties, she was still a very attractive woman, with rich brown hair softened by gray highlights and kind green eyes that seemed very worldly and wise.

“Welcome to Wild Fantasy, where anything goes and anything is possible,” she said once she had everyone’s attention. “We have a whole lot of adventurous games and events planned on the island, as well as fantasies to fulfill, so let that phrase be your guide for the week.”

Mitch silently accepted and agreed with Ms. Weston’s philosophy—especially where Nicole was concerned.

“Tomorrow, the competitions begin.” Excitement laced Merrilee’s refined voice. “Just to remind all of you of the rules and guidelines of this charity event, once you’ve chosen a partner by the end of tonight’s festivities, you’ll be paired up with that person for the duration of the week. If you or your team member at any time decides to part ways because of personal differences, or if either of you chooses to decline any of the competitions or events, you both forfeit your place in the contest.”

The strict rule made perfect sense to Mitch and no doubt kept discord to a minimum. It also forced couples to work through problems and differences. In other words, they had to compromise, an ability that was essential to any good, solid relationship.

He glanced at Nicole as Merrilee reiterated a few other basic guidelines, saw his partner’s intense expression, and knew on a gut level she wouldn’t break or bend any of those rules. She’d compromise with him and find some kind of common ground rather than relinquish the contest and prize money. Her perseverance was a strong trait that would work to their advantage.

“In a few days, by process of elimination based on scores, the teams will be narrowed down to the top seven finalists,” Merrilee continued. “From there, the final round of competition will begin. This event will be much more difficult in execution and will require contestants to use mental and physical strategies to ultimately win one of the top three monetary prizes.”

She paused for a moment, her gaze scanning the faces in the crowd in front of her. “But regardless of where you place in this contest, I want everyone to have a good time this week. And now that the band is returning from their break, you can enjoy the rest of the evening, find a partner for the contest and dance the night away.”

Nicole watched the other woman step down from the platform and mingle with her guests and took a few extra seconds to shore up her defenses against the man standing beside her—especially after the way she’d opened up and spilled one of her biggest personal disappointments to him. She’d never shared that story with anyone.

What in the world had come over her? She’d learned at a very early age to keep her feelings under wraps in order to keep her father’s criticism from stinging and her own strength and determination intact. She’d managed the feat successfully through her teenage and adult years, and even through her disastrous breakup with Jonathan. Yet Mitch, with his caring, dark brown eyes and startling tenderness, had managed to stir a deep yearning that threatened all the barricades she’d erected around her emotions. She could feel them crumbling, making room for more of that rare understanding and acceptance he’d offered. And that wouldn’t do at all. Because, ultimately, her surrender would cost her what she she’d worked so hard for and treasured the most: her independence.

“Are you ready to head over to the sign-up table?”

The rich, deep timbre of Mitch’s voice penetrated her thoughts, reaching past the loud buzz of rejuvenated conversation swirling around them. She chanced looking at him and her stomach did a little somersault at how tall, gorgeous and overwhelmingly male he was. Desire unfurled within her, a languorous kind of heat that slowly seeped through her veins and made her weak in the knees.

She wasn’t ready to make a weeklong commitment to Mitch right then, even if it was all for fun and games. She desperately needed a bit more time to regain control between them before she relinquished even a small piece of her freedom for the sake of the charity contest.

“Not quite yet,” she replied, and tossed a frivolous smile his way. “If I’m going to be shackled to you for an entire week as my partner I want to make sure you’re qualified and competent.”

His dark brows winged upward in surprise. “And what, exactly, do you have in mind to find out if I meet your standards?”

She thought for a moment and came up with the ideal way to test his skills, a match she was certain to win, which would put her back in charge mentally, emotionally and physically. “A game of darts in the lounge ought to give me a good indication of just how capable you are.”

She turned to leave the mixer and head down the pathway leading to the lounge near the hotel, but before she could take her second step Mitch caught her arm and stopped her. His hold slipped lower, and the fingers encircling her wrist branded her, spreading a fiery, alluring warmth across her skin. His bold gaze beckoned to feminine instincts and she shivered, wondering how one man could have such a potent affect on her senses.

Instead of letting her hand go as she expected, he clasped their palms together. Skin to skin, he threaded their fingers in an intimate fashion, keeping her close. “What about me testing your abilities?” he countered.

The arousing rumble of his voice made his question sound like a sexual taunt that included all kinds of forbidden, delicious possibilities. Or maybe her mind and body were just so deprived that she was imagining the underlying innuendo in his words. She tried to draw a steady breath and failed to calm the riot of nerves clamoring within her. The brazen, tantalizing stroke of his thumb against her rapid pulse and the tenacity blazing in his eyes didn’t bode well for the outcome of her latest challenge.

“You’re just going to have to trust me and my abilities.” She shrugged nonchalantly, though she was feeling anything but indifferent to him. “Or we could let our dart game speak for itself.”

Grinning, he dipped his head, and a lock of sable hair fell across his forehead. “That hardly seems fair, since I’m a lousy dart player.” No machismo on his part, just endearing honesty, and damn if that didn’t appeal to her. “How about we test our skills together out on the dance floor, instead?”