Deceptively Yours (Wanton Weston Women, Book Two) (12 page)

“I’m honored to introduce Dear Annie,” the speaker said.

The room erupted in applause. Sucking in a breath, Laura stood and accidentally knocked over her glass of merlot.

The man seated beside her jumped up and started mopping up the crimson liquid as it soaked the white tablecloth and Laura’s index cards. She grabbed the cards and attempted to blot the wine from them but it was no use. Nearly half the stack was unreadable.

Panic stormed through her. She held back tears as she patted her helper’s hand. “Thank you.” Her voice was a pathetic squeak. She headed to the podium like a condemned woman on her way to the gallows.

Dead woman walking.

She laid out her cards on the lectern, praying for a miracle. The MC left the stage and took a seat at a nearby table, leaving Laura all alone in front of hundreds of people. She tried to picture the crowd wearing nothing but their underwear, but Guy and her sister’s advice fell flat.

Her throat felt as if it was stuffed with cotton. She cleared it and the speakers let out ear-piercing feedback. “Sorry,” she said. Her heart kaboomed like a bass drum. She scanned the room one more time for Guy, praying with all her might that she’d find him. Just a glimpse of him would make her feel better, give a much-needed shot of confidence, but either he wasn’t there or he was too far back for her to see.

“Thank you for giving me this great honor,” she began, thankful she’d at least memorized the beginning since the notecards were DOA. “The basic principle of hedonism is that all actions can be measured on the basis of how much pleasure and how little pain they produce. The hedonist strives to maximize the ratio.”

She shuffled through the cards searching for a readable one. Oh, no. Somehow she’d managed to get them all out of order. Her eyelids drooped and she thought she might fall asleep right there.

She gripped the edges of the podium and read one of the few readable cards. “We’re all hedonists at heart, it’s just a matter of degree. If the pursuit of our pleasure doesn’t hurt us or others, where is the harm? Living life to the fullest is a universal quest.”

Her heart thundered as she looked for the next notecard, but a giant yawn overtook her and her eyes filled with sleepy tears. Chatters in the audience only made her more embarrassed. “I seem to have damaged my notes beyond recognition.”

She managed a smile at the audience, but seeing the giant crowd set her more on edge. Her hands trembled and she dropped the cards on the floor in front of the podium. Real tears threatened but she clenched her teeth to hold them back as she crouched to scoop them up.

All her energy seeped from her body. With great effort, she hauled herself up. The buzz of voices grew to a dull roar.

The MC joined her at the lectern and tried to corral the crowd. “Ladies and gentlemen, please. Let’s give our guest our full attention.”

Please don’t.

She didn’t want them staring at her, laughing at her awkwardness. She scanned the room again searching for Guy, praying he’d emerge from the sea of people to rescue her from her nightmare. But it became apparent she’d have to rescue herself by getting the hell out of there.

“I’m so sorry,” she told the MC. Then she stumbled toward the steps in her high heels and proceeded to trip over her own feet.

“Oh my.” The MC helped her stand.

The moment she was back on her feet, she kicked off her shoes and raced to the nearest exit.

“I guess Dear Annie had a bit too much to drink,” she heard the speaker say as Laura cleared the door.

She ran all the way to the villa, tears streaming down her face. Not only had she completely humiliated herself, but she’d destroyed Suzanne’s career as well. The WHS would no doubt make her pay for her stay on the island since she’d totally crapped out as their keynote speaker. She’d be in debt for years for what she’d owe them.

No wonder Guy hadn’t showed up. Why would he want anything to do with such a pathetic loser? She’d never be more than the boring bookworm she always knew she was.

Chapter Six

Guy’s phone buzzed as he stood on the hill behind what he suspected was Harry’s villa. He checked the display before answering. “Hey, Rick. What’s up?”

His partner’s frustrated sigh filtered through the phone line. “Absolutely nothing. I feel like we’re on a freaking goose chase.”

“Not necessarily. A threesome arrived here by boat an hour ago but I haven’t been able to get a good look inside the house to see if it’s Harry and his buddies. I got a
maybe
from the boat captain that transported them and I plan to stay close. But if I don’t see any movement soon, I’ll head over to the place next door for the night then try something different in the morning to smoke him out.” He lifted his binoculars and scanned the perimeter of the house for the tenth time in as many minutes.

“Good plan. You think I should head back over there?”

“Chances are good that he’s here. Maybe hang tight for today then if nothing turns up by morning, plan to come back.”

“Sounds like a plan. I’ll let you know if anything changes.”

After he hung up, he started up the hill toward the hotel. Maybe he could sneak into the back of the banquet hall and catch the end of Laura’s presentation. He’d have to come up with a good excuse why he was late. He just hoped everything was going okay for her. With any luck, she hadn’t noticed his absence.

By the time he arrived at the hall, the crowd was in the midst of dinner. He zigzagged through the room, searching for Laura, but she was nowhere to be found. After two more passes, he staked out the hallway by the ladies’ room, but ten minutes later she hadn’t emerged. Maybe she’d left immediately after her speech, in which case she had to know he wasn’t present for it.

His gut clenched as he pushed through the double doors then started back down the path. The sooner he caught Harry, the sooner he could come clean with Laura and tell her what he really did and why he was on the island. After the mind-blowing sex they’d had, he was sure he didn’t want to say goodbye to her after his mission was over.

Halfway down the trail, the ground started shaking. He grabbed onto a tree and offered up a prayer that it would be merely another minor temblor. Glancing back at the hotel, he held his breath as he watched the whole building shake. The breeze carried terrified screams through the air.

Laura. What if a wall caved in on her or a window broke and sent glass shards at her? He had to get to her. What if she was hurt because he wasn’t there, wasn’t able to protect her like…

He flashed back more than twenty-five years, to the night his mother was killed. He flinched at the long-ago memory of a gunshot, the acrid smell of smoke as she let go of his tiny hand and fell to the ground.

Damn it. He wished he was with Laura so he could hold her and keep her safe. He let loose of the tree and negotiated the quaking ground toward her villa. Rocks tumbled down the path ahead of him. When he’d almost reached the end, he did a face-plant, barely missing a large boulder.

He hardly felt the blow. Scrambling to his feet, he brushed himself off then broke into a run. Finally the shaking stopped. Dizzy with worry, he banged on Laura’s door. “Laura, are you okay?”

Moments that felt like hours passed as he waited for her to let him in. When she did, he gasped. Her bruised, tear-stained face cut straight through him, ripping his gut apart.

Guy grabbed her, pulled her against his chest and kissed the top of her head, her forehead and cheeks as if she were the most precious thing in the world. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here for you.”

Everything came rushing back to her—the humiliation, the panic, the complete and utter feeling of failure. Even the earthquake a few minutes ago hadn’t affected her as profoundly as her debacle of a speech.

She had every intention of giving him both barrels for not showing up after he’d promised, but when she breathed in his comforting scent, she burst into tears all over again. Grabbing fistfuls of his shirt, she blubbered and sobbed, not even caring what a complete fool she appeared. Wasn’t as if she could top her performance at the keynote dinner.

Guy clasped her upper arms, forcing her back a few inches. “What happened, baby? Talk to me.”

But her words came out as mumbo-jumbo. She shook her head and yanked him back to her.

He moved into the foyer and shut the door behind them, never releasing his hold on her. He led her to the living room and deposited her on the sofa. “I’m going to get you a drink, okay?”

She shook her head and sniffled. “I h-had too much wine at the b-banquet. I screwed it up so badly.” A fresh crop of tears began to flow.

He sat next to her, wrapping her in his strong embrace. “The speech?”

She managed a nod.

“Did you fall down during the earthquake?”

“No.” His puzzled expression only made her cry more.

“Breathe, sweetheart. Slow and easy.”

She followed his advice and in a couple minutes she was at least a little more composed. “I had a facial. They used something made from bee secretions on me. I was fine until after my nap.” She told him all about her allergic reaction and the fiasco that ensued at the banquet. “It was horrible.”

He folded her into his arms again and let her sob all over his shirt. “Oh, baby, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you.”

How had she forgotten about that? She shoved off him and backed away. “You said you were coming to the banquet, that you wouldn’t miss it. What happened?”

He stood and paced the room. “I must have eaten something this morning that didn’t agree with me. I couldn’t get up off the bed.” He rubbed his stomach. “It was awful.”

Was he purposely not looking at her? Then she remembered how hideous her face was. Why would he want to see her like that? She touched the areas around her eyes and realized most of the swelling had finally gone down with the exception of the spot above her eyebrow she’d hit when she fell onstage.

There was still the matter of telling her sister how she’d completely bombed the appearance. Nausea threatened but she shook it off.

Guy strode to the kitchen. “Let’s get some ice on that eye. Thank God the earthquake didn’t do much damage to the house. I was terrified you’d been hurt when I got here.” He returned to the sofa with a dishtowel icepack.

“Thanks.” She tried to take it from him, but he wouldn’t let her.

Instead, he smoothed her hair back then gently touched the ice to her forehead. “How’s that?”

She tried to swallow past the giant lump in her throat. “It’s…great.” Curiosity niggled at her. “You have a gentle touch. Where’d you learn that?”

He shrugged. “Maybe my mother. I was pretty young when she died, though.”

“Where’d you live after that?”

He handed her the icepack then scrubbed a hand over his face. “I grew up in a series of foster homes.”

The pain etched in his expression cut through her. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to stir up—”

He waved away her concern then stood and strode to the window. “You have new neighbors?”

She shrugged, hoping he’d come back and sit with her. But he seemed awfully interested in the villa next door. “Did you see any damage from the last earthquake?”

“Hm? Um, a little.”

She folded her arms and hit them hard against her chest. What was keeping him so fascinated at the next house? Then she remembered that he’d mentioned something about waiting for friends to show up there when they’d first met yesterday. “Have your friends arrived yet?”

He sliced her a glance. “Who?”

“The people you were waiting for next door, the ones you told me about yesterday.”

“Right. I’m still not sure if they’re even coming.” He returned his attention to the window again.

Maybe he’d merely wanted to sleep with her last night then move on to other conquests. Or perhaps it hadn’t been nearly as earth-shattering for him as it had for her. The notion was like a heavy blanket on the one bright spot of her day, blocking out the last bit of sunshine.

But she couldn’t fault him. The man was a member of the World Hedonist Society and one of their tenets was free love, after all.

“I have to go.” He hurried to her then grasped her shoulders and kissed her lips quickly. “I should check to see if they need any help up at the hotel.”

“But you said there wasn’t much damage there.”

He looked at her as if she were an alien. “I did? I meant…there didn’t appear to be, but I want to
make sure
no one was hurt. And if they were, well, I know first aid and CPR. Maybe they need my help.”

“Oh, okay.” Before she had a chance to say anything more he was gone. On a hunch, she went to the window where he’d been standing. The spot gave her a view of the place next door. She gasped when she saw Guy go around the back of the neighboring house and peer into the glass doors.

He lied to me.

Instead of being some valiant hero who wanted to help those who might be injured, all he wanted to do was check out the new guests. Maybe the friends he was expecting were more than friends. Maybe they were planning some wild hedonist sexual liaisons, which was probably a whole lot more interesting to Guy than she. Maybe she should get the hell off the island, go back home where she belonged instead of making a fool of herself with him as she had in front of the entire convention.

Forcing back tears, she headed into the bedroom to start packing. The sooner she got away from Pleasure Cove Island, the better.

* * * * *

After hitting a brick wall with the hotel staff, Guy returned to the villa next to Laura’s and attempted to see something inside. He couldn’t make out anything since the curtains were all drawn—which they hadn’t been earlier. Someone was definitely in there.

He checked his watch and his gut clenched. He’d left Laura’s place more than an hour ago. It killed him that he’d had to abandon her after her awful experience at the keynote dinner and then the earthquake after, but he had to do the job he’d come to the island to do. Hopefully she’d forgive him and let him spend another night with her. The sex had been some of the best he’d ever had and he wanted to explore the possibility of making their relationship more than a vacation fling. Hell, they lived in the same vicinity and he could get past her Dear Annie persona if she forgave him for deceiving her about his job.