Caribbean Christmas (6 page)

“We have an airport, it’s just only for private jets.” She straightened up and circled her hips, realizing she wasn’t making an argument Holly would buy into. “There is no income tax. We could keep every penny we make.”

“How does that work?” She sounded wide awake now.

“Import and export taxes are all we have, and since we’re no longer manufacturing a product, we’re golden.”

“You’re totally serious about this. Is there something wrong with your dad? Does he need you there?”

“I’m guessing he’s fine since he’s leading a diving expedition.”

“He’s not even there? Oh, hon, I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want to spend the holidays alone.”

She folded her body down, letting her head hang to release her neck, back, hamstrings. “He should be back tomorrow, so we’ll have a day before I fly home. Unless he wants to move my ticket. From the look of things, he’s not hurting for money. He’s completely remodeled the house. Well, everything except my room.”

“That’s kind of sweet.”

A bright green lizard darted out from behind the hammock trees, taking off down the hill. “The house looks like a magazine. Well, no, more like a furniture showroom. It’s like no one actually lives here. And he doesn’t even live alone.”

“He has a girlfriend? You should have opened with that, I would have woken right up for juicy gossip.”

“No, it’s a guy.” She rested her forearms on the dry ground and wondered how to explain Joe. She didn’t know what to make of him, which was why she needed Holly.

“He’s gay?”

“What? No. Joe is his godson. He moved here a few years ago, but my dad never really mentioned it. Well, he did, but he didn’t explain that Joe was Johannes.”

“You lost me.”

She stood tall and stared up at the clear blue sky. “Dad is the godfather for his best friend’s three sons. They’re ten years or so older than me, so I didn’t know them very well, and they treated me like I was a pest. Joe moved here, and has been living with Dad ever since. Maybe that’s why I haven’t seen him. He got another kid.”

“Sass, you talk to the man every Sunday like a religion. I’d be more concerned this guy is taking advantage of your dad. If he’s older than you, why doesn’t he have his own place?”

“I don’t know.” She reached up to her sagging ponytail and pulled the hair to tighten it.

“You haven’t asked?”

She sighed and stared out over Blowing Point Harbor, watching the ferry approach. “I got distracted.”

“Oh, Sassy, you didn’t.”

“Technically, I didn’t, but you make it sound like I chase every hot guy I meet, and we both know that’s not true. There is just something about him that makes me think about sex. Like pheromones or something.”

“And are his pheromones why you’re thinking we should move to Anguilla?”

“I don’t think so. I don’t think anything will actually happen, other than I’ll drool all over him if he gets too close. If I ever want to do a men’s line, he could model. He has these broad shoulders and his body is the perfect blend of strength and definition. And his cock is a thing of beauty. I think. I didn’t actually see it.”

The laughter was back. “Two things. One, no man wants to wear a crocheted bathing suit. Two, what did you do, jump him in the dark?”

“As a matter of fact, I went for a perfectly innocent swim in the moonlight. He just feels the need to stick to me like a babysitter.”

“Wait, you wore the muffin cover didn’t you?”

“I did, and he liked what he saw. I think. By the time we got back to the house he’d changed his mind.”

“Or maybe he used the head with a brain. If he’s living with your dad, sleeping with you would be a slap in the face.”

“I’m a grown woman. And I think if my dad could pick someone for me to be with, it would probably be Joe. He’s from Holland.”

“Yeah. My dad would love for me to get with a guy from Alaska. But that would be a mistake, and I’m thinking your father’s freeloader isn’t your best move either.”

“He might agree with you, if he ever wakes up.” At least she guessed he was asleep. He wasn’t in the hammock and his truck was still here. She hadn’t trusted herself to find him in a bed and not take advantage of the situation. “We’re supposed to go sailing today.”

“Wait a second, you let him sleep, but I had to wake up? You do like him.”

“He was always nicer to me than his brothers were, and I mentioned he’s gorgeous, right? He was just so spooked last night I think I’m a little afraid of what he’ll have to say this morning.”

“When have you ever been afraid of anything?”

If Holly only knew. “I try and do things fast, before I worry about being intimidated. But I’ve been thinking about the way he shut down all night.”

“Do what you’re always telling me to do. Think about what you want to have happen, and then make it happen. It worked for Sassy V.”

That it did. Who knew the swimsuits she used to beg boutique owners to consign in their stores would find their way into high-end department stores next year. Everything had happened so fast, she still struggled to process how her life was going to change. She didn’t have to make the suits herself anymore, just the designs and prototypes. Which left her with time to do something. What did she want to do now?

Joe’s naked body came immediately to mind. Okay then.

“I can hear you thinking. Don’t go chasing this guy just because you haven’t found a guy at home you like in ages. I think you just have island fever.”

“Maybe I do. But I know the cure for it.”

Chapter Eight

He’d done the right thing, damn it. Why couldn’t his cock lie down and behave. Joe’s hand hovered above the traitorous appendage tenting his sheet, twitching in hesitation. She hadn’t been back in Anguilla for a full day, and already she’d turned him into a lecherous peeping Tom. He sat on his bed, staring out the window at Saskia as she went through some kind of exercise routine.

Okay, so it wasn’t her fault his cock wanted to wave good morning. He should have better control over it. But really, who danced in their underwear in the backyard? Maybe it was a bikini, he wasn’t about to get close enough to find out. Because with the way she’d rolled her hips and shimmied her tits, he wouldn’t have left it on her.

He scrubbed his hand over his face, the stubble rough on his palm. Had he scratched her thighs last night? He hadn’t planned to touch any part of her, so he hadn’t shaved before dinner.

Though the open window, he could hear the twitter of birds and the melody of her voice. Not her words exactly, more the song of her laughter, the tone of her amusement. At least one of them was in a good mood. She circled her hips and then bent over at the waist. Dear God in heaven.

He fisted his hands in the sheet and groaned. She didn’t move, so either she couldn’t hear him, or she was trying to provoke him. She was doing a great job, because he had tunnel vision. In fact, he could probably scale the porch awning and make it to the ground in seconds. She might not even move, and he could just grab her hips and—

He threw the sheet off and cursed, the head of his cock glistening with want. An ice-cold shower should bring things into perspective. If it didn’t, he’d have to deliver her directly to her father, Christmas surprise be damned.

“Well good morning to you, Thundercloud. You look like you’re ready to ruin someone’s day.” Saskia smiled wide, not interested in having Joe Prinsen’s nasty mood shadow her time in paradise. She had a lot to do today and would rather get to it than deal with his cupboard-slamming, mug-clanking self. “Perhaps you need a slice of sunshine.”

His nostrils flared as he stared at her, watching her every move as she moved from her barstool into the kitchen. She pulled the quiche she’d made earlier from the warm oven and served herself another piece. She dished him up a hefty chunk as well, hoping he’d snap out of his funk once he’d eaten and been caffeinated.

“Do you guys eat here? There wasn’t much to work with.” She returned to the bar, making notes on her to-do list between bites of the cheese-laden quiche.

He leaned against the counter, fork in hand. “We’re usually in town by the time we get hungry, and we eat before we come home. Dutch sometimes makes dinner for Harm and me on Sundays.”

“He doesn’t live here too, does he? I’m not in the mood to be tied to a tree.” She winked and grinned. “At least not by him.”

Joe dropped his fork onto his plate and cursed. “I was hoping we wouldn’t have to do this.”

“Why, are you embarrassed to tell me you had to stroke it in the shower?” She took another bite, too thrilled by the way his face reddened.

“You are trouble. Always have been.” He put his hands on his hips, which tightened the white T-shirt over his honed chest. She slid her gaze to his crotch, and sure enough, part of him had piped up for attention.

She nodded. “Always will be. It’s fun. You should try it. You know you want to.”

“You know, I’ve had about enough of your mouth.”

“You haven’t had my mouth at all, hence the problem in your pants.” She finished her second breakfast while he pursed his lips and shook his head.

She folded her list and then slipped it into the back pocket of her yellow shorts as she carried her plate to the sink. She secured the halter tie of her crocheted one-piece again and settled the bright purple crocheted tee on her shoulders. She would have loved a mirror, but this house only had one the size of a porthole, at least on the first floor. Bachelors.

She stepped to Joe, just inside of his personal space. “I’m too busy to help you out right now, but maybe if you take the stick out of your ass, I could be convinced to help you later.” She stood on her tiptoes and placed a fleeting kiss on his cheek before turning to go.

Joe snaked a strong arm around her middle, pulled her backwards and flush against him. “I’m trying to be good.”

“So be a little bad.” She moved her hands back, running her palms down the outside of his thighs.

He nuzzled his face into her hair. “Your father—”

“Never has to know. I’m not a tattle-tale. Well, not anymore.”

He loosened his hold. “He would expect me to be a better man.”

“You’d know better than me.” She stepped forward and he let her go. Disappointment and jealousy pulled down her mood. Her conversations with her father about relationships centered around her finding a nice Dutch man to settle down with and try for a flock of ginger grandbabies. She’d never dated a guy she thought he needed to meet, but apparently he’d talked with Joe about women.

She made her way to the door and snagged her bag before slipping her sandals on to her feet.

“Wait, where do you think you’re going?” Mr. Honorable was suddenly interested.

“Sailing. Being on the water will clear my head. And then I’ll hit the market for Christmas supplies.”

For some reason, Joe donned his own sandals and grabbed his keys from the bowl by the door. “What kind of supplies?”

“Food for one, and maybe some rope.”

His pale gaze met hers, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. “Rope?”

She rolled her eyes. He really thought she was some kind of sexual dynamo. If he only knew she hadn’t found a guy worth messing with in a year. Maybe longer. “I have an idea for a present for my dad. With the way you’re acting, you’ll probably wind up getting coal in your stocking.”

“In the Netherlands gifts are for St. Nicholas Day.
Sinterklaas
already delivered me a custom mainsail cover. Dutch even put a pack of
Stroopwafels
on top of my sandals.” His features softened as he smiled.

“That must be nice. Can’t say he did the same for me.” She pulled open the door and started off for the road. Her jealousy might be irrational and misplaced, but knowing that didn’t help her from feeling like she’d been replaced. Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence that her father had started canceling visits around the time Joe moved to Anguilla.

“Saskia, wait. Where are you going?” The door slammed shut as he followed her outside.

She spun around, wanting to scream at him. She’d told him already, and his whole noble act would be much easier on them both if he kept his distance. “I’m going to take one of Dutch’s Optis and get my head together.”

“You can’t do that.” He crossed his arms across his chest as if that gave him the authority to tell her what to do.

“I’ve been handling a boat on my own since I was four. You don’t want to be around me, so cut the babysitting routine. It would be nice to get a ride up the hill after I’ve been to the market this afternoon, but if you’re busy I’ll figure it out.”

“I’m going with you.”

“Are you some kind of masochist? Is that your kink?” She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder. He was some piece of work.

“If I am, it’s a new trait. But just because I’m attracted to you doesn’t mean I have to act on it.”

She huffed a breath. “Tell that to your dick.”

His deep, husky laugh warmed her in places it shouldn’t. “I have been ever since you landed on this island. I’ll take you sailing, to the market, wherever you want.”

“Why?”

“Because your father would want me to.”