Sex on Flamingo Beach (13 page)

“But a casino isn't exactly necessary,” Emilie said, looking at him out of the corner of her eye.

“Some would say the same about a resort and spa.” Rowan's smile took the sting off his words. “I say we table this discussion and go hear the musicians play. There's nothing like a cool glass of coconut water and some good pan music to get us in the Bahamian spirit.” Rowan took her hand, leading her out.

A short cab ride later they pulled up in front of one of the island's bigger hotels. A bougainvillea-lined pathway led out onto the beach where the pan men were already playing some popular tunes. On the sand a handful of drunken couples gyrated.

Two seats came empty at the bar and they raced for them. For the next couple of hours they sampled an assortment of tropical drinks and listened to the steel band play its usual repertoire of tourist songs. Fortified by the alcoholic beverages, Emilie tackled last evening's sensitive topic again.

“How old were you when you got married?” she asked.

“I was thirty and just starting to feel successful. Why do you ask?”

“Just wondering. Where did you meet her?”

“You are obsessed with my marriage. What's this? Twenty questions?” There was a teasing note in his voice. He didn't sound angry.

“I'm just curious. You never bring your ex up in conversation and that seems strange.”

“I was working on a project in Nassau. She was a server at my hotel.”

Ding-dong. He'd picked a woman who definitely wasn't his equal and would make him feel like a big shot. The disconcerting thought again popped into her head. It wasn't about being attracted to black women, it was about feeling superior.

“And you dated this woman for how long?” Emilie quizzed.

“I wouldn't exactly say we dated.”

“But you married her.”

“Enough.” Rowan hopped off the bar stool, stretched and rotated his neck. “I feel like I'm on the witness stand. It happened a long time ago, and honestly, I don't want to talk about it. It wasn't a great period in my life. I'd rather dance.” Grasping her hand, he tugged her onto the dance floor.

The band naturally chose that moment to slow things down. Emilie was pressed up close to him, not exactly cheek to cheek since his considerable height prevented that. But it was the closest she'd gotten to Rowan since they'd made love, and the sparks he ignited in her were undeniable. His dancing was a reminder of sex standing up.

“We haven't talked about dinner,” he whispered in her ear. “I'm thinking a little wine, some fish…room service.”

“I'm thinking the booze is talking.”

“From the moment I saw you, I've wanted you. I wasn't drinking alcohol then. Have I waffled?”

“No, you haven't.”

She laughed. If nothing else, Rowan had been resolute in his pursuit of her. But his reasons were all wrong, at least that's what the voice in the back of her head kept saying.

“Let's get the heck out of here while I'm still standing,” he said, twirling her again.

Arm in arm, and needing the fresh air, they walked back to the Hibiscus Inn.

A note waited for Emilie at the reception desk. Joya, whom she'd told where she would be staying, wanted her to call. Emilie wondered why she hadn't tried reaching her directly, but when she dug her cell phone out of her purse she realized there was no service.

“Here, use my BlackBerry,” Rowan offered. “I've gotten calls from the States so I know it works.” He moved away to give her space.

The wireless device in hand, Emilie retraced her steps, walking out to the front porch. It was around dinnertime so Joya should be home. Emilie punched in her friend's number and waited.

“What's so urgent?” Emilie asked the moment Joya picked up.

“I didn't want to alarm you, just give you a heads-up. Your boss, our senior VP of sales and marketing, Tom, showed up after you left yesterday. He wasn't happy you weren't in. He and the general manager called a meeting to let the staff know Landsdale International is merging with the Knight Corporation.”

“What! Are you sure?”

“Yes. It sure makes it that much easier for a casino to be up and running in six months. Just some minor renovations and the Seminoles and Landsdale International are in business.”

Emilie was reeling from the news. She placed a hand on the porch railing to steady herself. This was big news with a far-reaching impact. Her job could be in jeopardy; all of their jobs could be in jeopardy.

“Thanks for letting me know. I would have walked in on Tuesday and been totally unprepared. The sales force is going to be panicked if they aren't already.”

As she disconnected, a horrifying thought formed. Rowan had to have known. He'd met with Keith Lightfoot and Stephen Priddy right before they'd gotten on that plane. Rowan must have been brought up to speed about the acquisition but he hadn't said one word.

Here was yet another reason not to trust him.

R
owan's fingers massaged Emilie's tight back muscles. He could tell by the tense way she held herself something was wrong. It must have to do with the phone call she'd just returned.

“Everything okay?” he asked although deep in his gut he knew it wasn't.

“No, it's not,” she said, turning to face him. “Why didn't you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“That Landsdale was acquiring my company.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Don't give me that.” Emilie stepped away from him. “You of all people had to know what was going on. You're the developer.”

There must be some mistake. Keith Lightfoot and Stephen Priddy would have known what was going down, especially Priddy since he handled the financial stuff. Yet there had been no mention of it, not even an inkling. Rowan didn't like being played for a fool, he thought angrily.

“Who did you hear this from?” Rowan demanded, conscious of the very public area where they were still standing.

“Joya told me.”

In a voice that didn't sound like her own, Emilie told him about the emergency meeting her boss and the general manager had called.

“I wonder what that means for the casino,” Rowan said out loud.

The glare that Emilie gave him said it all. She did not believe that he was as much in the dark as she was.

“Tell you what,” he suggested. “Come upstairs with me and I'll call Derek. He'll tell you exactly what I'm telling you. We knew nothing about it. You trust him, don't you?”

“At this point I don't know who I trust,” Emilie said warily.

When he reached for her hand she didn't pull away.

Stopping at the front desk, he spoke to the clerk. “Can you have room service send up whatever tonight's dinner special is? We need it for two. I'd also like the best Cabernet you have.”

“I'll take care of it, sir,” the young girl on the evening shift answered.

Emilie was halfway up the stairs when she said, “I'm not going to your room. I would be crazy to.”

“I thought we'd agreed I would call Derek.”

“Why can't we do it on neutral territory?”

“Neutral as in where? If it's not your room or mine then it's a public area. If you're uncomfortable coming to my room, then we can go to yours. Just tell me, and I'll let the front desk know where to deliver the food.”

“Fine, I'll go to yours, just as long as you understand that my having dinner with you does not mean I'm your dessert.”

“Don't you think there are more serious matters on the table right now than sex? I have a lot hinging on this project, and I'm sure you're worried about what an acquisition means to your job.”

She was quiet for once, not even challenging him. While he longed to hold her and reassure her that he could be trusted, his intuition told him it would not be wise. Until he got Derek on the phone it was best to keep his distance. What he needed to do was prove to Emilie that he knew nothing about the Landsdale/Knight acquisition, and that just like her he'd been blindsided.

The Hibiscus Inn, small as it was, provided turndown service. Two mints were now artfully displayed on his pillows. Emilie took off her hat and set it down on the desk before making herself comfortable on the divan in the corner.

While she was doing that Rowan punched in Derek's number.

“It's Rowan,” he said when his partner picked up.

“What the hell are you doing calling me, guy? I thought this was supposed to be your honeymoon?” His partner and friend laughed at his own joke. Under different circumstances Rowan would have had an appropriate comeback but Emilie was tuned in to the conversation and how he handled himself was crucial.

“Why didn't you call me the moment you heard about the Landsdale acquisition?”

“I didn't know about it until Joya came home all steamed up. I figured there wasn't a thing you could do about it in Harbour Island anyway, and that you'd deal with it Tuesday when you got back,” Derek said.

“Try getting us an appointment with Lightfoot first thing Tuesday morning. I'm curious how this surprise announcement will affect us. We have an agreement to construct a resort and casino.”

“It's already taken care of. We have a meeting first thing Tuesday.” Derek was always one step ahead of him, another reason they worked together so well.

Rowan hung up and turned to Emilie.

“Derek is as much in the dark as I am.”

A knock on the door put a temporary end to any discussion. An employee arrived bearing their dinner and the wine on a tray. Thinking it would be nice to eat outside, Rowan pointed to the table on the veranda.

They ate the meal of rice, peas, grouper and salad with relish. Emilie was fairly quiet throughout, answering only when he asked her a question. It worried him.
What was going on in that fine mind of hers?

“You really had no inkling this Landsdale-Knight thing was coming?” Rowan asked as he collected their dishes, placed them on a tray and set the mess outside of his door.

“Not a clue. I'd just like to know whether we'll continue to operate as we have or not. Landsdale's holdings are far-reaching and there's bound to be duplication of positions, which usually means layoffs.”

“Maybe you'll get a better job out of this.”

She sighed, an exasperated sound. “That usually means moving.”

“Is that a bad thing?”

She pushed away from the table and stood with her hands gripping the veranda railing.

“I'm sick to death of moving. I want permanency and a place to finally call home.”

Rowan followed her over, his hand caressing her forearm. “Why is putting down roots so important to you?”

He wanted to know. How she answered the question was extremely important. His ex had been an insecure woman who wanted to keep him chained to home. His lifestyle was one of getting on planes and chasing after the next opportunity. He had to go where the potential was if he wanted to make money. And any woman in his life needed to understand that.

Emilie took a moment to think about what he'd said. For a while he was certain she wouldn't answer.

“My father was a traveling physician. That meant my brothers and sisters and I were constantly packing our bags. We were always on the road, always changing schools and having to find new friends.”

“And you chose a career in the hospitality industry because…”

She looked at him with those huge green eyes of hers. “Because I liked working with people of various nationalities. I was young and optimistic and didn't realize that getting ahead might mean moving.”

“You got a rude awakening then.” He covered the hands that still gripped the railing tightly.

“I did.” She moved ever so slightly and the connection was lost.

A moon now hung low over the bay, turning the water to molten silver. A gentle breeze rippled the waves, at the same time cooling down everything. They stood lost in thought.

“What will you do if you lose your job?” Rowan probed.

“Start looking for something else in the hospitality industry. Maybe I'll move back to South Jersey.”

He touched her arm again, needing to feel her. “Why Jersey?”

“I loved the Jersey Shore. I moved for personal reasons, but it's still the one place I consider home.”

“Why?”

He was pushing the envelope. She could easily shut down on him again.

“Why? Because I lived there with a man I loved and for a fairly extended period. I sacrificed several promotions to be with him. We built a home together. One day he left for work and never came home.”

“His loss. He'd have to be a fool to give you up.”

Rowan was both angry and jealous of a man he'd never met.

“Maybe he just wasn't ready for commitment,” she said out loud in a matter-of-fact way.

“I'm ready,” Rowan said, surprising himself even more. “So ready. If you give me a chance, I'll show you just how ready I am.”

His arms circled her waist and surprisingly she didn't pull away. He racked his brain thinking how best to communicate his sincerity; talking didn't seem enough. He had to find a way to show Emilie that, even though he wasn't one to stay put, his intentions were honorable.

“Emilie,” he said, “I'd hire you in a moment if Landsdale and Knight were stupid enough to let you go.”

“You would? In what capacity?”

It was hard to read her or guess what she would say.

“In public relations, communications, something like that. I've seen you deal with all kinds of people. Your people skills are excellent. My business is growing in leaps and bounds. Currently I hire an outside firm to take care of my business. I could use someone in-house.”

“That's a very nice offer,” she answered. “You really are a decent guy.”

“I've been telling you that for a while. You chose not to believe me.”

In a surprising move, Emilie laid her head on his chest.

“You'd create a job for me.”

“Yes, I would.”

Rowan scooped up a handful of her curls, holding it in his palms. He could smell the clean fragrance of freshly shampooed hair and feel the texture of the red hair he so admired. He kissed the top of her head. She tightened her hold around his waist.

“Let me make love to you again,” he said, his lips again grazing the top of her head. “Let me prove to you how I feel.”

In another surprising move, Emilie walked inside with him. She slipped out of the billowing skirt and tugged off her halter top. She stood before him in thong panties and a strapless bra, her statuesque body and full breasts conjuring up all kinds of sensual memories that he'd tried so hard to repress.

He had to touch her, needed to. The pad of one finger outlined the hollow of her neck and slowly made its way down to nestle in her cleavage. Emilie captured that roaming finger and slowly raised it to her lips, moistening it with her saliva. She guided that same finger into the cup of her bra, letting it rest on one puckered nipple.

The tip of Rowan's tongue grazed her neck. He cupped her breast in his hand.

“Feel what you do to me,” he said, taking her hand and resting it on his growing erection.

Rowan thought he would jump out of his skin when Emilie ran her hand across the fabric that had tented. She yanked on the zipper, releasing him into her palms.

“Bad boy, no underwear?”

“The boys like their freedom on vacation.”

The boys were getting quite a bit of attention now and loving every moment of it. He was already completely erect.

He'd brought protection with him because he'd been so confident that they would get here. Rowan stepped away to shield himself and returned to find Emilie had shed her underwear.

She was unbelievably beautiful and not at all self-conscious in her nakedness. Rowan was out of his clothes in seconds and lifting her up. She wrapped her legs around his waist and wound her arms around his neck. He sat her down on the desk and positioned himself between her legs, entering her with a control he didn't know he possessed.

When her muscles clenched around him, emotions ricocheted through Rowan with wild abandon. The sight of Emilie's flushed face, the scent of her body, the taste of salty flesh pushed him to the brink. With a supreme effort he slowed things down, wanting her to be ready when he was. When the first tremor rippled through her he was right there with her, matching her spasm for spasm, and holding her so close that their bodies melded and he felt as if they were one person.

Emilie refused to spend the night with him even though he tried his best to persuade her. Eventually he walked her back to her room, leaving her with a kiss and the promise to meet for breakfast and a day of scuba diving. After the kind of lovemaking they'd just shared she had to know how he felt about her.

Emilie closed the door and pressed her back against it. She brought a shaking hand to her bruised lips, lips that Rowan had kissed, and kissed again until they were raw. She'd sworn she wouldn't sleep with him again and yet it had happened. There was something so charismatic about the man that whenever he touched her common sense took a backseat.

She didn't want to be anyone's booty call or convenient sex toy. In addition to the color issue, which he kept insisting was no big a deal, she was still unhappy about the way he'd avoided talking about his ex-wife. And she wasn't sure whether he'd told her the truth or not about the impending acquisition. But despite all these reservations she'd slept with Rowan. What a pathetic soul she was. She needed to have her head examined.

Emilie washed up quickly and climbed into bed. Her body was still buzzing from Rowan's lovemaking, and her head was buzzing from all her confusing thoughts. She had one day left in his company. Hopefully he would keep his word and have Twenty Cents and Ice Cube judge the jam session.