Swing (3 page)

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Authors: Opal Carew

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BOOK: Swing
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It would be great having Ty with her at the resort . . . spending several days . . . and nights . . . together.

Sadness oozed through her. Even though it would be the last time she ever went there. Because she'd just

talked Ty into helping her sell her dream.

A warm, ocean breeze caressed Melissa's face as she stepped out of the cab and breathed in the scent of exotic

tropical flowers. A bellman collected the luggage onto a cart, then led her and Shane into the air-conditioned

lobby. She glanced around, taking in the large potted plants, shiny marble floors, and floral upholstered

furniture. The place had a nice, airy feel. She glimpsed an inviting view of white sandy beach and rolling ocean

waves out the glass doors along the back of the hotel.

She clung to Shane's hand as they approached the front desk to join the short line to check-in. To avoid making

eye contact with any of the four people in front of them, she glanced toward the doors, watching the traffic

outside.

The doors slid open and a couple entered, dragging wheeled luggage behind them. The man's gaze met hers and

he smiled. Her gaze darted away, but not before noticing how extremely handsome he was. A true hunk. His

gaze returned to his companion and Melissa watched him cross the lobby to the other check-in line. Tall, with

dark, wavy hair, almost black, that curled around his collar. He wore faded jeans and a blue shirt. His wife was

blond, tall, with a perfect figure. Her tan, as well as her long legs, were shown to advantage in a short white

skirt, while her white cotton camisole stretched over her generous—and obviously bra-less—breasts.

The first couple in line finished checking in and Melissa and Shane moved up. She glanced at the other line

again. As the blonde spoke to the woman in front of them, the hunk glanced at Melissa again. When he caught

her looking his way, he smiled, a glint of interest in his eyes.

Oh, my heavens! The guy's going to think I'm interested. Slowly, she dragged her gaze away. Damn, she didn't

want to give him the wrong impression. This place was going to be tricky. Everyone was a potential sexual

partner, married or not.

She toyed with her pendant, her fingers stroking the diamonds that formed the heart.

"Okay, let's go."

At Shane's voice, she glanced up to see him smiling at her as he held a key card envelope in his hand.

She picked up her large travel purse, tucked the strap over her shoulder, and fol owed him to the elevator where

the bellman waited for them with their luggage.

As they rode the elevator, she felt uncomfortable, certain the bellman kept staring at her from the corner of his

eye, yet she never actual y caught him doing it. Then again, it was probably just her nerves. She kept wondering

what he thought of her. What kind of woman came to a place like this? Maybe he wanted to make a pass at her.

After al , he believed she was here looking for sex with men other than her husband. Maybe he would suggest

the three of them get it on right now!

Her spine grew rigid, dreading an embarrassing proposition. But the elevator dinged, indicating they had arrived

at their floor, and the bellman delivered their bags to their room, accepted Shane's tip, smiled at her as he

wished them a wonderful vacation, then left. Nothing more.

Melissa collapsed on the nearest chair, barely noticing the stunning view of the ocean outside their tenth-story

window, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Then she noticed the large, king-sized bed—the only bed in the room—dominating the space.

Not that the room wasn't large. In fact, it was huge. The light cream-stained wooden furniture with antique gold

fittings set off the sage green walls nicely. A spacious couch with a matching chair in a tropical floral print, faced

a patio door leading to a large balcony, which framed the gorgeous view of palm trees, a white sandy beach, and

the turquoise ocean beyond.

But that bed loomed in front of her. She glanced at it, then at Shane, who leaned over to pick up her large

suitcases from beside the bed, giving her a lovely view of his tight buns. A twinge of awareness vibrated through

her, while her stomach knotted in dread as to how this day would end.

Would there be an awkward "what do we do now" when it came time for bed? Or would he take her in his arms

and kiss her, then whoosh her off to heaven? On that bed.

"Liss, you want a drink? You look like you could use one."

"I . . ."

He glanced at his watch.

"Wait, never mind. We'd better get going to dinner." He tugged off his beige linen jacket and hung it over the back of the desk chair. "I'll just change my shirt first."

He unfastened the buttons on his shirt and tugged it off, revealing his thick, muscular arms and well-defined abs.

She'd seen his bare chest many times when he'd been in a bathing suit, but this was different. They were in a

hotel room. He was changing clothes, even if just a shirt. She licked her lips as she watched him, wanting to run

her hands over his tanned, taut flesh, to feel those muscles rippling beneath her fingertips.

He smiled at her. "Aren't you going to change? Remember we're going to the orientation meeting, then there's a

party after. You brought that great black dress, right?"

"Oh, that's right."

She hurried to her suitcase and snapped it open, then sifted through her belongings until she found the dress.

She scurried into the bathroom, then leaned back against the closed door, glad for the moment alone.

Good heavens, how would she ever survive five days here when she had nearly had a panic attack just coming

up the elevator, then freaked out at the sight of a king-sized bed because Shane might seduce her? Not that it

would take much convincing on his part. Her barriers seemed to be dissipating by the second.

No, it wasn't being alone with Shane in this room that worried her the most. It was all the predators she'd be

facing in the resort. Her spine tingled in dread at the prospect of walking among them, like a kitten surrounded

by a pack of wolves. She could almost see their glinting eyes and drooling mouths.

She'd been a fool to come here.

She was the one. Ty was sure of it.

Melissa Woods.

He'd seen her in the lobby when he and Suzanne had first arrived at the resort. She'd appeared nervous and out-

of-place. That in itself wouldn't have been enough to convince him—any new arrival to a club like this might act

that way—but there was something more. Honed instinct, an instinct he'd learned to rely on in his line of

business, told him she was hiding something.

He watched the woman, with her pert little nose, full sexy lips, and wavy ash-blond hair caressing her shoulders,

as she listened to Vanna, the hostess, outline the etiquette at the resort. Woods wore an al uring black dress,

cinched in at the waist, which revealed an enticing glimpse of cleavage and plenty of long, shapely leg. Although

she fit in completely with the other wives, something in his gut told him she wasn't here for a weekend of sex.

Which was a damned shame because a weekend of sex with her was a hell of an exciting prospect. His body

tightened in response to the thought of dragging that voluptuous body against his, her tight nipples pressing

into his chest as his tongue invaded her soft, sweet mouth.

But he was sure she was the one he'd been hired to watch.

She glanced his way and their gazes caught. He found himself staring into her soft blue-green eyes, the color of

the ocean, and he smiled. She was certainly an attractive woman. Maybe in this case business could be mixed

with a little pleasure. Her face glowed red and she curled her fingers around her husband's hand as she glanced

away again.

Annoyance built in him as he watched her hand clinging to her husband's. Why did so many women feel they

needed the protection of a man? Ty preferred a woman who could stand on her own two feet. Unlike his

mother, who'd been needy and unable to take care of herself . . . or her son. She couldn't protect herself, let

alone Ty as a child, from his abusive father. She had let her husband walk all over her because of some warped

belief that she'd needed him. That he would take care of her.

This woman clung to her husband in the same way he'd seen his mother do a thousand times. Yet it was clear to

Ty that Melissa Woods and her husband were not in love. They shared an affection, he could see that, but the

chemistry—some sense of belonging together—was missing.

"Be sensitive to others," Hal, the host, said. "Always ask, and remember, 'no' means 'no.'"

"Also remember"—Vanna flipped her long, raven hair over her shoulder and smiled—"that it is perfectly

acceptable to sit back and watch." She winked. "But believe me, participating is much more fun." A few nervous giggles twittered around the group.

Melissa glanced at the clock, carefully avoiding the gaze of the darkly handsome man who'd been watching her.

The same man she'd seen in the lobby earlier. Her heartbeat accelerated as his disturbing gaze slid down her

body, then rested on the swell of her breasts before continuing down to her crossed legs. She forced herself not

to shift in her chair.

She tightened her grip on Shane's hand. Shane smiled at her, then turned his attention back to the auburn-

haired beauty with emerald eyes a few chairs away. If Shane had been her real husband, she would have been

jealous at the way he flirted with the other woman, but he wasn't her husband. Stil , she was a little jealous, but

she reminded herself that she and Shane were just good friends, despite their attraction for each other.

His flirting made their role here appear more real. She should be doing the same thing, but there was no way

she was going to have sex with a stranger.

She intended to play the "I just want to observe" card a great deal, and by observe she meant the rituals, not others having sex. No one should be surprised, since Hal said that it was quite common for newbies to take a

few days to open up.

She toyed with her necklace and chanced a quick glance at the dark stranger, who had introduced himself as Ty

Adams, as he whispered something to his blond, blue-eyed, aerobic-instructor-perfect wife. The problem was,

Melissa sensed that this guy, with the midnight eyes that could chip away at a woman's resolve, would view a

newbie like her as a challenge. And she had the impression that whatever challenge this man took on, he

pursued with a vengeance.

"Now I suggest," Hal said, "that you all take a look around the resort. There is a welcome dance in the ballroom.

Feel free to talk to the other members and ask questions. Everyone is very friendly." He grinned. "There are

various bars and," he winked, "specialty rooms available. These are outlined in the orientation booklet. And you can always take a dip in the pool or soak in one of the four hot tubs—bathing suits optional, of course."

Melissa glanced at the orientation booklet without real y seeing it, trying to quell her uneasiness at the thought

of naked people lounging around the pool doing who-knows-what and especially trying not to imagine what

went on in the specialty rooms.

"One more piece of advice." Vanna smiled at them. "Don't stay with your spouse this evening. Practice

experiencing the club and meeting other people on your own. If you have any questions, we'll be circulating

around the club. Now, go have fun."

Everyone took that as a cue and stood up. Couples began milling toward the door.

"Do you want me to stay with you?" Shane's eyebrows rose.

Yes, she did. Desperately. But she couldn't hide behind Shane al week, and she refused to be ruled by her

anxieties.

"No, they suggested we separate."

The thought of roaming around this place on her own filled her stomach with butterflies, but she was a big girl

and she could handle it. Experienced patrons who were interested in newcomers would probably go to the

ballroom. If she went to the bar, hopefully the patrons there would ignore her.

As Shane crossed the room, Auburn Hair smiled at him, her face lighting up. They chatted for a moment, she

laughed, then he slid his arm around her waist and they slipped through the door.

Melissa noticed Mr. Dark Eyes standing by his wife's side as she chatted with Vanna. He smiled at Melissa.

Calmly, she returned his smile then headed for the door, relieved when he did not follow her.

She returned to the lobby, then fol owed the signs to the lounge. Soft music flowed from the room. She walked

straight to the bar, then sat on one of the high, wooden stools and ordered an orange and cranberry juice.

"So you're a virgin," a woman's voice said.

Chapter 3

MELISSA GLANCED AT THE LADY TO HER LEFT. "I BEG YOUR PARdon?"

The slender brunette smiled, her green-eyed gaze taking in Melissa's black wrap-dress, her velvety high-heeled

shoes trimmed with rhinestones, then returning to her face. Her red lips parted to reveal pearl-white teeth. She

nodded to Melissa's name badge, with the little lipstick kiss symbol on the corner.

"That's what we cal new members. Virgins."

"Oh." Melissa picked up her drink and churned the straw through the crushed ice, blending the orange and red

juices. "Yeah, that's me."

"It's strange being at a place like this for the first time." She smiled, resting her elbow against the bar. "I've been a member for years. If you have any questions, just ask."

This was the perfect opportunity for Melissa to find out more about what went on here, which she needed to do

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