Читать книгу Red Shoes and A Diary - Mia Zachary - Страница 12

The night is dark and restless and so am I as I wait for my green-eyed lover—

No. Start again.

Moonlight glitters on his dark hair as I stand naked before him, eager for the dangerous pleasure of his touch—

MEGHAN CLOSED HER DIARY and set it beside her on the sofa. She’d been trying to create a new entry, but couldn’t seem to concentrate. An odd sense of loss settled heavily in her chest as she stared out at the darkness.

Her resolve had been badly shaken by Nick’s sudden exit. It was as if her fantasy man—and her confidence—had walked out with him. Feeling totally rejected, she planned to stay here in her suite and sulk. Maybe order something chocolate from room service.

She’d felt something for Nick, a kind of tenuous emotional connection, as well as the physical attraction. The electric spark of awareness whenever they touched was her main reason for choosing him. Was she wrong in thinking he felt it, too?

Probably. Heaven knew she’d been wrong before. Frowning, she stood up and went to open the window. The lights around the Cascade Pool caught her attention. She’d forgotten about the party Julie invited her to.

Okay. No more sulking. She wasn’t going to follow the same old path, just because it was safe and familiar. She was going to find a vacation lover and have some fun before going back to school. Grabbing her card key, she headed for the door.

“Welcome to the Singles Mingle,” read the banner that hung over the walkway leading to the pool. A cool breeze ruffled her hair while she hesitated on the edge of the stone patio. Taking a deep breath, she tried to ignore her anxiety. She could do this. She’d found one great guy. She could find another.

Still she hesitated. People wandered among intimate groups or danced on the white sand. Everyone was trying, desperately in her opinion, to impress everyone else. Just then one rowdy bunch of men called out, “Hey, Julie’s sister, over here!”

The enthusiastic greeting sent her straight toward the bar. She needed a little more courage before she went on the manhunt. One of the bartenders grinned as she elbowed her way onto a padded stool. His name tag read “Alfonso.”

He raised his voice so she could hear him above the Salsa music. “Hi, Julie’s sister.”

She smiled and leaned forward against the bar. “Not you, too. Call me Meghan.”

“How about something cold, Meghan? We Jamaicans know what to do with fresh fruit and lotsa ice.”

“Thank you.” She twisted sideways on the stool and scanned the crowd. Maybe Nick would show up. Maybe he’d finish with his client early and come find her.

Julie suddenly appeared at her shoulder. “Hi, Megs! I didn’t think you were going to come. Where’s your pirate?”

“Feeding his parrot, I guess.” She dropped her gaze and frowned, drumming her fingertips on the top of the bar.

“It didn’t work out with him, huh? Well, in that case, why are you sitting here instead of circulating? You’re not going to find Mr. Fabulous this way.”

“Take a breath, Jules. I’ll go mingle as soon as Alfonso finishes making my drink.”

Her sister looked startled by the glass of multicolored slush he placed in front of her. “You made her a Miami Vice?”

Alfonso shrugged and gave her a grin. “You told me to push tonight’s drink special.”

Meghan eyed the glass suspiciously. She didn’t drink as a rule, but she needed to relax. Cautiously, she took a sip and wrinkled her nose. Rum, with strawberry and piña colada. She wasn’t sure about the blue stuff floating on top and decided not to ask.