Throb (24 page)

Drunk Guy pipes in, “Shut up about the bachelor asshole already and play cards. She already told you an hour ago she can’t talk about the show.”
I prefer Dickhead, but asshole works too.

Swaying Blonde stacks a pile of black chips, not even flinching when she loses a thousand-dollar hand. I’d bet my bank balance it’s Daddy’s money. “She said she can’t
talk
about it. But maybe she can nod or something.”

“I don’t get your obsession with that guy anyway. He’s a scrawny poser.”

“He is
not
a scrawny poser.”

Drunk Guy shrugs. “Whatever. Ante up and pay attention to your cards.”

The table falls silent and I win another two hands. Five in a row, it has to be a record for me. Kate smiles as she pays the last win. “Looks like your luck keeps getting better today.”

“I hope so. I’m hoping to get lucky trying my hand at something new this afternoon,” I say cryptically.

Unfortunately, Swaying Blonde was just taking a few moments to gather her idol-worshiping thoughts. She continues, “I knew the first time he kissed you that you two would wind up together in the end.”

Kate ignores her comment and keeps dealing, but Swaying Blonde doesn’t take a hint. “That episode where he sings to you and you slow dance together.” She clutches her chest. “It’s like watching an old movie. You build a friendship, but behind it there’s so much passion.” She sighs. “You two were just made for each other.”

Jaw tight, I watch Kate’s face as she deals the final face-up cards, but she doesn’t look up. Not until she leans toward me to sweep the double stack of chips. “Looks like my luck just changed.” I toss my cards, stand and walk toward the door without looking back.

Fifteen minutes later she opens the passenger car door outside of the casino—where I
should
have waited, rather than surprising her early. My whole mood has changed and I know I’m acting like a jerk for taking it out on her, yet I can’t seem to bring color to my own self-induced grey mood.

“Sorry about that.”

“It’s not your fault,” I say as I navigate the large circular casino driveway, although I’m not sure I really mean the words. Deep down I think I
do
blame her, maybe not for how the words were delivered tonight, but for not being able to give us a clean start. It’s selfish, I know it is, I’ve seen the reasons she’s doing what she’s doing, but I want her without any qualifiers. Sneaking around, hiding something I feel the urge to publicly claim as mine, isn’t in me.

Kate puts her hand over mine on the gear shifter and we drive in uncomfortable silence.

“Long-term parking is in Concourse B,” she says as I pass the sign.

“Not going to long-term parking. The private jet terminal has its own parking lot.”

“We’re flying on a private plane?”

“Montgomery Productions and Diamond Entertainment co-own it. We use it mostly for films. I know you don’t want to be seen in public with me.” The last sentence comes out with a bite.

Neither of us says much as we exit the car on the tarmac and go through a quick and pain-free security check. The taxiing and takeoff are smooth, yet there’s turbulence in the hollow of my gut. Kate yawns, reminding me that even though I just woke up, she’s coming off a ten-hour shift on her feet.

“There’s a cabin in the back. The captain should give us the all-clear to get up soon. You should get some sleep, it’s a long flight.”

She nods. “Are you going to join me?”

“Maybe later. I have some work to do.”

A few minutes later the plane hits its cruising altitude and the captain makes an announcement that we are free to move about. I encourage Kate to go. “First door on the right. There are extra pillows in the cabinet below the bed. Just push the button over the end table if you need anything.”

She offers me a weak, forced smile and a nod before retiring. I take out my laptop to read the weekly summary of pitch recommendations. The first pitch is for a film that already has a huge buzz. It’s one of the most successful indie books being pitched for a highly anticipated film. I read the first page and lose interest, although it has nothing to do with the story. My eyes wander to the closed cabin door in the back. I open a new pitch, hoping it will focus my attention. It doesn’t.

Five minutes later, I guzzle a glass of juice and unbuckle with frustration, my body bringing me to where my mind already is.

The door creaks as I slip inside. It’s pitch black and quiet, the only sound the rhythmic deep inhales and exhales of Kate’s breath. I remove my shoes and make my way to the bed in the darkness, lifting the covers and easing in beside her.

“Took you long enough,” she whispers, catching me off guard with the sound of her voice. I thought she was sleeping.

“Sometimes I just can’t get out of my own way.” I reach out for her, hand falling on her hip in the absolute darkness. My hand meets skin, not shirt or pants. So I slide my hand gently up until I reach her ribs, then back down to her thigh.
Skin.

“You’re naked.”

“I am.”

“You knew I’d come in after you.”

“Maybe. Maybe I always sleep naked.”

“Do you?”

“Not usually.”

I chuckle, feeling a bit of relief. “I’m sorry for being an ass. I just find myself feeling … frustrated by things between us sometimes.”

“I know,” she whispers softly. Then her hand reaches up to my face, her fingers feeling the ridges of my jaw, my nose, my eyes. “That’s why I’m naked. Thought maybe it would help you alleviate some of that frustration I saw in your face.”

“It might take a while.” I take her hand on my face and pull it down to my mouth to kiss each finger. “I’m
really
frustrated.” I add and surprise her by hauling her from next to me to on top of me. She giggles and my frustration starts to ebb already.

“I’m dedicated to the cause. I’m willing to work hard.”
Hard
pretty much describes me just from having her naked body near mine.

The captain announces we have twenty minutes until landing. I hate to wake her. She looks so peaceful and I took an hour and a half of her nap for other things before she fell asleep. I clean up and brush my teeth in the small
en suite
bathroom and she wakes when I climb back into bed.

“Good nap?” I say before gently kissing her lips.

“You smell good.” She snuggles up against me, pressing her warm sexy body to my already clothed one.

“It’s time to get up. We’re going to land soon.”

She stretches and pouts. “But I’m so comfy.”

I swat her ass. “You can be comfy for almost a week in my bed. In fact, I intend to spend an inordinate amount of time in my bed, making you comfy. But right now you need to get up and get dressed so we can land.”

Begrudgingly she gets up. She walks her naked self to the bathroom. “Ummm. Cooper.”

“Yes.”

“Is this a, a… . hickey?”

“Where?” I pretend not to know what she’s talking about as I walk up behind her in the bathroom and our gaze meets in the mirror.

“Right here.” She points to her right breast, where there’s an unmistakable bright red mark.

“Hmmm.” I cup her breast from behind. “It might be. I guess I didn’t realize how much frustration I had to let go of.”

“Hmm … mmm.” She eyes me suspiciously.

“I’m glad it’s there though. Because this week, you’re all mine and we don’t have to worry about any cameras catching you since no one knows where we are.”

I’m not sure if it was the sex or the nap, or maybe even the Caribbean sunshine warming us as we step onto the tarmac in Barbados, but Cooper’s a different man than the one I boarded the plane with.

“What do you want to do first?” he asks as he laces our fingers together. It feels odd to walk in public with him like this. We’ve basically been in hiding since we met.

“Hmmm … what are my choices?”

“We could have sex in the yard, by the pool. Or at the beach. The master bedroom has a Jacuzzi if you prefer that.”

“Do all my choices include sex?”

“They all begin and end with sex. How you’d like to fill the hours in between, I’m happy to oblige whatever suits your fancy.”

“How very generous of you, Mr. Montgomery.”

“I thought so.” He kisses my lips and gives me a carefree smile that makes him look younger than his years. His face is relaxed. It’s a look I haven’t seen in a while and he wears it well.

A uniformed officer comes to meet us as we reach the building and does a quick check and stamps our passports. “What about our bags?” I ask as we enter the airport terminal.

“They’ll be brought to the car that we’ll meet out front of baggage claim. It’s a small airport, so there isn’t a special area for private planes. We’ve already cleared customs, so we can just walk through the airport and exit where everyone else does.”

The airport is busy, but Cooper navigates us through swiftly. As we walk through the baggage claim area, I spot a uniformed man holding a sign that reads
Montgomery.

“I guess that’s us?” I say, but Cooper doesn’t hear me. He’s preoccupied looking off in another direction.

“Cooper?” He still doesn’t respond, so I trace his line of sight. I don’t see anything unusual. Mostly it’s just a group of tourists in Hawaiian shirts and straw hats anxious to get their luggage. Then I notice a man in the group who stands out. He’s grabbing a bag from the conveyor belt, but that’s not what makes him different. Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and pants—head to toe in black, his bald head is the only thing that shines from his otherwise dark façade.

“Cooper?” I call again. “Do you see someone you know?”

“Hmm?” He turns to me, having heard my voice, but still not hearing my words.

“I asked if you saw someone you knew. You seemed distracted.”

“Actually … give me a minute, I’ll be right back.” He deposits me next to the man holding the Montgomery sign and takes off in the direction of the baggage claim he was staring at. The man I thought he was looking at is already gone, but I watch as Cooper surveys the surrounding area.

“Everything okay?” I ask wearily when he returns.

“Fine,” he responds and we walk to the waiting limousine. “I thought I saw someone I knew, but my mind must be playing tricks on me since you robbed me from the nap I was planning on taking.” He kisses me chastely, then waves off the driver so he can open the door for me himself.

A woman is waiting at the top of the driveway when we pull up to the house—if you would call where we arrive at a house. Mansion, estate, perhaps just
paradise
might most deftly describe the vision that looms in front of me.

Up until now, everything about Cooper Montgomery seemed to match the man—a sleek penthouse suite, expensive-yet-old classic car. His assets are clearly luxurious, yet they have an understated quality about them. Like he doesn’t need to show off the grandness to appreciate its value. But this—there is no mistaking the brazen grandeur of this home.

Flooded in white except for the massive dark-wood double front doors, the home stretches out far and wide amid lush tropical plantings.

“Welcome home, Mr. Montgomery, Ms. Monroe. Sugar Rose is ready for your arrival.” The woman greets us with a thick island accent and broad smile.

“Thank you, Marguerite. It’s good to see you.” I hear Cooper have a short conversation with the woman, but I’m too busy looking around in awe to pay much attention.

“You like it?”

“It’s stunning. I can’t believe how big it is.”

“That’s not the first time I’ve heard you say that,” he leans downs and whispers to me as we walk to the entrance with Marguerite in tow.

I shake my head. Before me is the man I first met—smiling, playful and full of himself. It’s nice to have him back.

As Cooper talks to Marguerite, I walk slowly through the spacious home. The massive two-story living room is framed with a wall of glass that leads out to an equally impressive manicured yard. An oversized infinity pool makes it difficult to tell where the yard ends and the ocean beyond it begins.

A warm ocean breeze blows on my skin as I walk outside, bringing the smell and taste of the ocean to my lips.