Читать книгу: «Bring It On», страница 2

2

THE LAST TWENTY-FOUR HOURS had been hell. Sure, Colt had upgraded them both to first class but a delayed flight, two hours sitting on the tarmac, a missed connection and nine hours in the Atlanta airport were not how she’d envisioned the trip beginning. Of course, nothing about the past day had happened as planned.

But they were here now and that was what mattered.

The island was about forty-five minutes by ferry from St. Lucia. The ride over had been amazing—bright blue sky, therapeutic sunshine and a brisk tropical breeze that had helped to clear the jetlag cobwebs from her brain.

When Wyn had told her he’d booked them at Escape, Lena had checked the place out online. The resort, the only thing on Île du Coeur, had a volatile and romantic history. The small island had originally been a cocoa plantation but had been turned into a boutique resort about fifty years ago. It had been renovated, added onto, changed hands multiple times and let fall into disrepair until the current owner had purchased it almost three years ago. The place was now billed as an adult-only tropical retreat. Small and intimate, lush and seductive, perfect for a honeymoon.

Apparently, there was a local legend to the name of the place. Île du Coeur literally translated meant Heart Island. Supposedly, everyone who visited found their heart’s desire—whether it was what they were looking for or not. Lena had her doubts, but she had to admit that it was a great marketing angle.

Lena had been surprised that Wyn had sprung for the most expensive bungalow at an already pricey resort. The man came from money, but he was very careful about how he spent it. His frugal nature was one of the things that had attracted her to Wyn in the first place. Considering where she’d come from, that quality had been extremely important to Lena.

Her mother had been … erratic. Hell, she was still unreliable. Using her ethereal beauty and fragility, she’d spent her life conning a succession of men into taking care of her. But the arrangement was never permanent. It had been a good year if Lena didn’t have to change schools more than once. And that was assuming her mother actually enrolled her. Sure, she’d lived in Europe, Brazil, D.C., New York and possibly every state in between, and she’d hated every last second of it. Except for those few months with Colt and his family. That was the only time she’d ever felt that she belonged.

All she’d ever wanted was to find someplace permanent, to grow some roots. Someplace that wouldn’t change in the middle of the night when the wife discovered the mistress, and Lena and her mother were thrown out on their ear.

The only contact she’d ever had from her father was the monthly check that provided the only steady income they had. Unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to keep her mother in the lifestyle she preferred. Lena had often wondered if her mother had gotten pregnant on purpose, just to ensure money would come from somewhere. She’d never been brave enough to ask. Probably because she’d been afraid of what the answer might be.

Normally Lena wouldn’t have been one to splurge on unnecessary luxuries, but whatever Wyn had spent on the honeymoon had been worth every penny.

The island was gorgeous, just what she’d expected. Lush colors—green grass, red, pink and yellow flowers, rough brown trunks of towering palm trees and clear turquoise water—surrounded her. The pebbled path leading from the pier to the main building wound through perfect landscaping. She could hear laughter and music floating on the warm sultry air.

The grand facade of the plantation house greeted them. Antique wood and faded walls lent an aura of old-world charm and history that just couldn’t be faked. A larger more modern building rose up behind the house. No doubt it had been added at some point to expand the hotel space.

Lena spun on the path trying to take it all in as Colt held the door open for her. Ducking beneath his outstretched arm, she scooted past. The minute her body brushed against his, an unexpected tension stole into her limbs. It wasn’t the first time she’d had this kind of reaction to Colt, although it had been a while. She groaned inwardly. Why did the physical reaction always have to blindside her? It was nothing. Chemistry. Shaking it off, she tried to focus on the lobby.

Polished wooden floors, hand-carved molding and period fabrics covering the chairs all gave the space an air of authenticity that immediately charmed her. From across the room a cheerful woman with friendly eyes asked, “Checking in?”

Lena nodded, the first genuine smile she’d felt in days on her face. “Lena Fuller.”

“Rand,” Colt’s deep voice rumbled behind her.

She whipped her head around to look at him. “What?”

“I imagine they’d have you listed under Rand, not Fuller.”

Lena wrinkled her nose. “I suppose so.”

“Oh, are you the Rands?”

“No—”

“Not rea—”

The cheerful woman spoke over their words, moving away as she said, “We’ve been expecting you, although we thought you were arriving on the earlier ferry. Let me get Marcy for you, she’ll be handling everything while you’re here.”

Not only was she friendly, but fast. The woman disappeared, leaving Lena standing at the vacant counter, her mouth hanging open, unsaid words stuck in her throat. Colt tapped his finger on her chin and she snapped her jaws shut, ignoring the rush of heat that blasted through her face.

A small woman burst through the doorway behind the wooden counter. Beautiful pale hair fluttered around the sharp angles of her face. She carried her shoulders in the straight line of a drill sergeant, telling Lena that she was definitely in charge.

Marcy stuck her hand out and Lena automatically grasped it.

“Welcome to Escape. I’m Marcy.”

She reached for Colt’s hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you in person, Wyn. Of course, I’ll be working with you both this week, trying to keep everything flowing smoothly.”

“Working?” Lena’s mind raced, but she couldn’t make sense of what Marcy was saying.

“The production crew arrived yesterday and set up this morning. We were under the impression you’d be arriving earlier, but I suppose things happen when you’re traveling.”

Lena found herself apologizing, although she wasn’t exactly sure why. Normally, hotels didn’t care when you checked in and none of the literature she’d read about Escape indicated there was a strict policy. “We missed a connection.”

“No matter. We’re on a tight schedule, but we’ve adjusted things accordingly. The team would like to start immediately with some romantic shots during your welcome dinner this evening once you’ve settled.”

The fireball glanced down at the tiny gold watch wrapped around her slender wrist. “Your reservations are at seven so that gives you a couple hours to settle into your bungalow and unpack.” With a smile that was more perfunctory than welcoming, she asked, “Any questions?”

“Yes, what are you talking about?” Lena stared blankly at Marcy. It was as if she was speaking another language, one Lena knew she should understand but didn’t.

“The photo shoot.” The other woman’s eyes glanced behind her at Colt before returning to Lena again. “Surely Wyn explained everything to you.”

Colt cleared his throat. “Perhaps you could do us both a favor and go over it again.”

An expression of disbelief and irritation flitted across Marcy’s face, but she looked at Lena and explained. “Wyn and I have been working on a marketing campaign for Escape. When we started throwing around the idea of featuring a couple, he had the brilliant suggestion that we use you both as a real example of a loving couple honeymooning on our beautiful island.”

“Why would we want to spend our honeymoon posing for an ad campaign?”

Marcy’s brow wrinkled as her frown deepened. “Because you aren’t paying for the vacation.” She shot another nasty look across at Colt. “He really didn’t tell you any of this?”

“No, no, he didn’t.”

“I’m going to kill him.” Colt’s words were low and she thought Marcy hadn’t actually heard them. He started to turn, but Lena grasped his arm and held him there beside her. His biceps flexed beneath her hand. When had he gotten so strong?

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To catch the first ferry so I can kick his ass. He could have stopped us or told us, but he didn’t. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Frowning at him, she said, “That isn’t funny,” before directing her attention back to Marcy who now looked just as confused as Lena had been moments ago.

“Marcy, there’s been a mix-up.”

“You aren’t Lena Rand?”

“No, yes, I mean I’m Lena but—”

“Are you telling me that if we don’t go through with the photo shoot that we can’t stay at the resort?” Colt raised his voice to drown out the rest of her words.

“Yes. No. Why would you want to back out now?” Marcy’s gaze bored into Colt’s. “You signed a contract, Wyn.”

“Um, I didn’t get married and this isn’t Wyn,” Lena blurted out. She almost felt sorry for Marcy as her eyes widened with shock before narrowing into slits.

“What do you mean this isn’t Wyn? What the hell is going on?”

Lena swallowed, realizing it was the first time she’d had to say out loud what had happened since leaving the church. “Let’s just say that Wyn decided he preferred my teenage whore of a cousin.”

Marcy blinked owlishly and then waved her hand in Colt’s direction. “Then who is this?”

“A friend,” she said, before realizing just how that might sound.

Marcy’s eyes narrowed just a little more as she took in the sight of Lena, unmarried Lena, with Colt towering over her in that way of his.

Lena launched a preemptive strike. “No, seriously, we’re just friends. When the wedding fell apart Colt was there. I had the honeymoon, or what I thought was supposed to be a honeymoon, and we hadn’t seen each other in a very long time.” Lena realized she was rambling but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “He travels. He’s a director. He makes documentaries all over the world.”

“Well, isn’t that nice for him,” Marcy said, looking unconvinced.

“How much would a week here cost, Marcy?” Colt asked, filling the pregnant silence. Which was a good thing because who knew what might come out of Lena’s mouth if she opened it again.

“We reserved the honeymoon bungalow for Wyn, the best location on property. An entire week there would cost $8,595. Not including tax.”

“It’s a private island. How can there be tax?” Colt asked.

“We have to pay the mainland for use of their utilities, municipal resources and the ferry service. But price isn’t the problem.”

Tension poured off Colt in waves. Lena could feel it tightening the muscles in her own back. He was frustrated, angry and ready to kill someone; the only problem was that the target for his anger was an entire ocean away. Normally, she wasn’t a violent person, but if Wyn had been standing next to them, she most definitely would have let Colt have at him. She was getting angrier and angrier with her ex-fiancé by the minute.

“Then what is the problem?” she asked.

“We’re booked solid. I don’t have another available room for four days. I have a contract with the production company, a deadline with the ad agency and an internationally distributed travel magazine. I don’t need more paying guests, I need a couple to photograph for our ad campaign.”

With a dismayed glance behind her, Marcy looked at Colt. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t his job to fix the mess Wyn had created.

“So basically, you’re saying our choices are to agree to appear in your photo shoot and get a free vacation or leave?”

For a moment, Lena thought she saw a glimmer of panic and regret flash through the other woman’s eyes, but before she could pounce it was gone.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. You’re both attractive. You’d make a great couple for our ad campaign. If you’re willing to do the work, I’d be happy to give you the same agreement I offered Wyn. Free room, food and amenities in exchange for your cooperation with our photography team.”

Lena looked around her at the charmingly elegant lobby. Outside the windows she could see the beckoning water and almost hear the lap of the waves as they hit the sand.

She didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Her life back home was a shambles. She wasn’t ready to face it. The resort was beautiful. She’d been looking forward to staying.

“I suppose it could be worse,” she said, looking back at Colt and raising one eyebrow in reluctant surrender.

“How?”

“I could have actually married Wyn.”

A laugh rumbled deep in Colt’s chest. Lena was close enough to feel the vibrations and found an answering smile touch her lips.

“I suppose it would be an adventure. How much work could it possibly be? We’re here …” His voice trailed off. Even he seemed reluctant to turn around immediately and leave. And considering what an ordeal it had been to get here, Lena didn’t blame him. The thought of getting back on a plane right now was not appealing. Especially when she had sandy beaches and a crystal-clear sea stretching invitingly in front of her.

Marcy’s relieved smile was hard to miss. “I guess the only question that remains—since you insist that you’re not a couple—is can the two of you pull off looking like honeymooners for the cameras?”

“Please. I’ve spent most of my adult life behind the camera, plotting angles and setting up shots. I think I can handle being in front of it.”

Without any warning, Colt grasped Lena’s upper arm and spun her around to face him. She wobbled a little, until his arms around her body steadied her. What was he doing?

Laughter still lingered in the back of his bright green eyes. A soft smile touched his mouth, curving his lips even as they parted, moved closer. Lena found her own lips drifting apart. What was she doing?

He bent her backward over his arm, making the room and her equilibrium tilt. His mouth claimed hers in a devastating kiss. She had a moment of shock when her body went rigid, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a radiating warmth that melted through her bones.

He didn’t devour her as some men had a habit of doing. He gently persuaded her to open to him, constant pressure and reassurance that he wouldn’t push beyond what she was comfortable giving.

After several seconds … or maybe minutes, he slowly, smoothly, pulled her back upright and let her go. The world tilted around her for a few seconds.

Her lungs burned. She took a deep breath to fill them back up again, but instead of the tropical scent permeating the lobby, all she could smell now was Colt. A masculine scent that always made her think of sandalwood.

What the hell had just happened?

“Satisfied?” Colt’s voice was smooth and poised. Unaffected. While Lena wasn’t sure she could actually form coherent words. She blinked, trying to clear her vision and the shift her world had taken.

She’d always known he was a good kisser. While he never kept a girl around long, she’d had occasion to mingle with a few of his conquests. They’d always been quick to sing his praises, as if they had some shared knowledge. No one ever believed her when she said they’d never slept together.

Marcy arched an eyebrow, pursed her lips and considered them for several seconds. “I suppose that settles that. Welcome to Escape.”

3

WHY HAD HE KISSED HER?

It had seemed like a harmless thing to do at the time—take a little dig at Marcy and show her she had nothing to worry about—right up until the moment his lips had touched Lena’s. He’d expected it to be light, quick, unimportant. Somehow between the idea and the execution, it had all gone wrong. Instead of something theatrical, he’d found himself really kissing her.

He’d pressed in slowly and asked her for more. And she’d given it. He wasn’t sure what was more shocking, his reaction or hers.

The gut-deep wrench of yearning had come out of nowhere. Left him breathless and reeling. It’d taken everything he had inside to let her go. To pretend nothing had happened. Nothing had changed.

But it had.

He’d known her for sixteen years. When they were children it had been easy, connecting mostly through emails and phone calls. They’d skipped the awkward exploration of teenage years because she was always so far away. And while they’d both gone to college in D.C., they’d been at different schools. They’d seen each other more often, but not every day. They’d always lived separate lives and it was easy to continue to do that even in the same city.

And then his parents had died and he’d … floundered. His brother had tried to fill the void, but he had a young family to take care of. Lena was there for him, and he’d needed her so much. Needed the steady support of their friendship. It was the only thing that had felt real and solid when the rest of his life had spun out of control.

D.C. had become a constant reminder of the parents he’d lost. The family home. His brother, sister-in-law and newborn niece. He’d begun taking jobs, going anywhere as a way to escape it all. However, the work had quickly become important to him for other reasons. He enjoyed the challenges that came with difficult projects and the transient lifestyle that allowed him to move from place to place, constantly experiencing something new.

Ahead of him on the path, Lena’s bright voice floated back to him. “Ooh, they have snorkeling. Maybe Marcy will let us do that one afternoon.”

It was a fluke. That was all. This was Lena they were talking about. They’d studied together, shared pizza, razzed each other about horrible taste in movies, spent hours on the phone when he called from faraway places. She’d been there for him during the worst possible moments of his life.

She’d been the first person at the hospital the night he’d crashed his car going one-twenty down a back-country road. She’d tried to talk him out of skydiving, base jumping and extreme rock climbing. But when he’d refused to listen, she’d been there to bandage his cuts and smack the back of his head. Ultimately, she was the one who shook him out of his grief over losing his parents and convinced him he needed to get back to living.

Lena was important.

Sure, they rarely saw each other now—for the past five years he’d been wandering the globe trying to make his mark as a filmmaker—but their friendship was easy. They could go weeks or even months without talking, but when he did pick up the phone, it was as if they’d spoken the night before.

He didn’t want to lose that. He needed her grounding influence in his life.

Gritting his teeth, Colt determined to ignore the firestorm of hormones raging inside his body until it went away. She’d just been jilted, for heaven’s sake. The last thing she needed was to deal with his wayward lust. And really, that’s all it was. A quick reaction based on a bad decision. He’d been so busy on his last job in Kenya that he hadn’t had time to blow off steam.

Eventually, it would subside and things would go back to normal. Until then, he could fake it.

“Ooh,” she said again, stopping short on the path. Skidding to a halt, he barely missed colliding with her.

She looked up at the tiny bungalow Marcy had assigned them, although he supposed tiny was a relative term. As a permanent residence it would never have done. But as vacation spots went it was pretty amazing.

The outside was made of warm, polished wood that gleamed beneath the late-afternoon sun. Lena pushed open the solid door, revealing the dark interior. Cool air leaked out to touch Colt’s skin. Before that moment, he hadn’t realized how hot it was here.

Their bags, along with an itinerary Marcy was eager to get started on, were to be delivered shortly. In the meantime, they had nothing to do but explore their temporary home.

Lena was busy wandering around the edges of the room, looking through the windows and squealing about their private infinity pool on their secluded patio.

All he could see was the single king-size four-poster bed that dominated half the room.

Eventually, Lena made her way over to it. She bounced down onto the mattress, the comforter bunching up around her and the pillows toppling haphazardly behind her.

“One bed, huh. Wanna draw straws?”

“Please. You’re welcome to take the couch if you don’t trust yourself in the same bed with me,” he joked, a smile plastered to his still-pulsing lips.

She snorted. “It’s my honeymoon. If anyone’s sleeping on the couch, it’s you.” She flopped onto her back, her arms spread wide across the entire length of the bed. “It would be the gentlemanly thing to do.”

“You’ve known me for how long?”

“Long enough.”

“So you know better than to accuse me of being a gentleman.”

“True enough.” She laughed. Sitting up, she looked across at him.

“Why did you do that?”

He thought he knew what she was talking about, but part of him hoped he was wrong. “Do what?” Her mouth took on a serious slant. “Kiss me.” He shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.”

Awkwardness, never present before, settled between them. He realized that he should probably apologize. Or maybe promise her he wouldn’t do it again. But the words didn’t form.

“Well, um, let’s try to avoid having to do that again.”

“Well, hell, I’ve never gotten any complaints before.” He exaggerated his words, pulling his face into a mock scowl, trying to restore the equilibrium they’d lost. “Was kissing me such a hardship?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“You enjoyed it.”

“I didn’t say that, either,” she exclaimed, rolling her eyes.

“Anyway, I don’t think Marcy will require that kind of commitment. From either of us.” He hoped.

“Maybe not, but I’d really like to avoid having to explain to everyone what happened. I’m here to forget about the wedding, and I’m afraid these photo sessions will cause a stir. Maybe we should just pretend that we’re actually married.”

Well, he definitely hadn’t expected this. But, now that he thought about it, her suggestion made sense. If he were in her position, he wouldn’t want to have to retell the story over and over, reliving the painful experience.

“All right,” he agreed slowly. “I have a problem with outright lying, but I don’t mind letting people think whatever they want.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

A knock at the door signaled the arrival of their luggage and put an end to their conversation. Several minutes later, he found himself outside walking slowly around the rim of the pool while Lena got ready for their first assignment—a romantic dinner, according to Marcy.

He just hoped he could get through the night without doing something he’d regret. Like kissing her again.

AWKWARDNESS HAD SETTLED around them again. The restaurant was elegant and romantic, which probably didn’t help the situation. Decorated in soft blues and greens that complemented the untamed tropical beauty outside, the dining area had an undercurrent of sensuality and sophistication. It was the sort of place a man took a woman he was planning to seduce, Lena thought.

Her eyes strayed sideways to Colt as the maître d’ led them through the restaurant. Colt’s hand settled lightly on the small of her back, guiding her through the maze of tables. Her muscles tightened beneath his touch, making her feel even more unsettled.

Colt had touched her a thousand times. Hadn’t he? Her body had never responded this way before. Had it?

Lena thought hard. Maybe. When they were both in college, there’d been some faint wisp of attraction. But it had gone away, to be replaced by deep affection. Which meant more than a fleeting physical attraction that could burn out and die. Right?

She’d seen it time and time again growing up. Her mother would gush over the latest man in her life. Her cheeks would be pink, her eyes would glow. But three months later there would be yelling and crying. Until the next man and the next place. If Lena had learned anything from watching her mother, it was that sexual attraction never lasted and was hardly the foundation for a good relationship.

Oh, she liked sex just as much as the next woman, but she’d always looked for more than a spark. Which is what she’d thought she’d found with Wyn.

The sommelier approached their table and introduced himself. “Marcy has arranged for a flight of excellent wines to accompany your dinner this evening.” Twisting the bottle he’d held against his arm, he presented it to Colt for his inspection. “This is our best champagne, compliments of the house in celebration of your marriage.”

Colt, who had leaned forward, sprawled back into his chair. The tip of his shoe nudged against her foot. Lena drew her own feet back underneath her chair. Two days ago, heck two hours ago, it wouldn’t have bothered her. But something had changed. An awareness of him as a man had sprung up seemingly out of nowhere.

Oh, she’d always thought he was an attractive man. With his rugged good looks and the well-defined muscles his dangerous hobbies had given him, any woman would be hard-pressed to argue. Colt had an air about him, an adventurous spirit that made you think you’d never be bored while he was around.

But she didn’t want adventure, never had. She wanted a man who would settle in one place, build a solid and stable life for her and their children. Colt didn’t fit that bill. Yet another reason she’d never thought of him in a romantic or sexual way.

“Didn’t you hear? We’re not—”

Lena kicked him with her sandal-clad foot, stubbing her toe and shutting him up in one fell swoop. Grimacing, she said, “Colt, behave.”

“What would be the fun in that?” he asked, mischief glinting in his eyes. She’d seen that look before, many times, and it usually heralded some harebrained scheme that she wanted no part of—such as jumping out of a perfectly functioning airplane.

There were many things about Colt that she liked. He was a good friend, always there for her when she needed him. But there was plenty about him that she just didn’t understand, and she had convinced herself a long time ago she never would.

She shot Colt a warning look for good measure as the sommelier poured. Lena gratefully accepted her glass. Taking a sip, she let the chilled bubbles tickle her nose and cascade down her throat. “Mmm, this is good.” It was light and fruity, sweet on her tongue. She took another sip. And another.

Looking at Colt, she smiled. Candlelight flickered between them, casting shifting shadows across his face. She wanted to reach out and run the pad of her finger over his skin. Her smile vanished and her eyes darted away. What was she thinking? She lifted her glass and drained it.

Colt palmed the bottle from the waiting bucket and asked, “More?”

The playful mask he’d been wearing slipped and for the first time Lena realized he was worried about her. The space between his eyebrows wrinkled and his lips pulled tight into a straight line.

“I’m fine,” she said.

Colt shrugged, the dress shirt he’d put on pulling tight against the broad expanse of his shoulders. “If you say so.”

She was halfway through her second glass, on an empty stomach, when Marcy appeared at her elbow.

“All settled in?”

Lena looked up at the other woman, at the strained smile that stretched her lips but didn’t touch her eyes.

“Yes, the bungalow is lovely.”

“I’m so glad you’re pleased.”

Marcy plunked something that made a metallic twang onto the table. The plain gold bands rattled for a moment before settling against each other. “I noticed you didn’t have rings. We’ll need them for the photographs.”

Lena stared at the rings. Without looking at her, Colt reached for the bigger one, slipping it onto his finger.

She swallowed, picked hers up and slid it snugly against the princess-cut diamond already on her finger. She’d been wearing the engagement ring for so long she’d forgotten it was there. Now, however, it felt all wrong, and she wished she’d left it back in D.C. Both bands sat heavy against her skin. She didn’t want either of them, but when Marcy let out a sigh of relief, Lena dropped her hands into her lap, her naked right covering her left.

With a wave of her hand, Marcy pulled over a man with a camera draped across his neck. Lena had wondered when the three-ring circus would start.

“This is Mikhail. He’s going to be the photographer this week. The photo shoot was supposed to be organic, catching a real honeymooning couple as they explored all the resort had to offer. We were hoping to use candid shots. Obviously, that might be a little difficult now.”

“Why do you say that?” Colt asked.

Marcy shot him an incredulous look. “Well, for starters, you’re both sitting as far away from each other as possible without being at separate tables.”

Colt’s lips dipped down into a frown. Lena took in their positions and realized Marcy was right. A hard glint entered Colt’s eyes. Slapping his hand down onto the table, his open palm waited expectantly as he said, “Give me your hand.”

Reluctantly, Lena placed her hand in his. His fingers brushed against the pulse at her wrist, sending it skittering. A warm heat that had nothing to do with the alcohol she’d drunk suffused her skin.

Colt’s eyes changed, going from hard to soft. He pulled their joined hands closer, forcing her to either let go or press her body against the biting edge of the table.

She’d left her hair down and it fell around her face, somehow closing the rest of the restaurant out and training her focus solely on him. Colt leaned forward, meeting her halfway across the table. His tongue licked across his lips, drawing her attention to his mouth. She’d never bothered to study it before. Or maybe it had been intentional avoidance. But since he’d used his mouth against her …