“Something’s wrong,” she whispered, afraid even mumbling the words would make them true.
Coop lifted his arm and ran his hand across his face. “What is it?”
“I don’t know.” She flicked the switch on the bedside lamp. The room was empty. She and Coop sat up in the bed. The covers lay at their waists. They both glanced around the room.
“Our stuff.” Cara pointed to where their suitcases had once lain. The spot was now empty.
Coop slid his hand beneath his pillow and produced a gun she hadn’t realized he’d hidden. He slipped from the bed. The barrel of the gun pointed at the ground. He was a vision, all six feet two of tanned nakedness, giving the word commando a dual meaning.
Cara lifted the covers to her chest and pulled them from the bed as she rose. She was afraid to breathe, afraid to move. Whoever had taken their things had to have done it while they’d slept. Fear coiled in her veins, tightening like a ball made from rubber bands about to burst.
“They were here when we got back, weren’t they?” Cara asked as Cooper flicked on the light switch in the bathroom and yanked the shower curtain back.
“Yeah, and I had flipped the extra lock on the door.”
He lowered his gun as he re-entered the room. His jaw clenched tightly as anger claimed the features on his face. He stalked to the front door and yanked it open, disappearing outside and then returning.
“Anything?”
“No.” He let out a long breath. “Whoever was in here is gone.”
Cara’s body heated, and she clutched the sheet tighter. “Coop. You know what this means?”
Coop ran his hand over his neck. “Yep. Someone was in here when we got back from dinner.”
“Oh my God.” Her hand flew to cover her mouth. “They were in here when we…”
Coop stormed to the phone and picked up the receiver. He punched in some numbers and demanded security before slamming the phone back in place.
“You realize we’re both naked? No clothes and you’re going to let them in here?”
Coop grabbed the blanket from the bed and wrapped her into it like a guy wrapping a Christmas present. He told her to hold one end and twirl into him, cocooning her into the fabric. She was two seconds away from busting free. Not because of the confining weight, but from her temper, which was about to burst free.
Some no-good, low-life, son of a bitch had been in their room and witnessed everything. Every moan, every scream, every smack of their bodies as they’d had sex. Coop wasn’t going to need a gun if he found the bastard. She’d scratch out his eyes and tear off his ears to undo what he’d stolen.
She struggled against the heavy weight as he disappeared into the bathroom and walked out, with a beach towel covering the important parts that she’d gotten to know extremely well only hours before. Cara wobbled to the bedside phone. She struggled to free her arm and lifted the receiver. There was only one person on the island that could help her. She dialed the front desk. “Connect me to room 259.”
Coop held the door open for Phillip to enter with two guards trailing behind him. Phillip held her gaze as Cara spoke into the phone.
“Hi, Aunt Betty, it’s Cara. I need a favor. I need you to bring me some clothes. We’re in the honeymoon cabana.”
“What happened to your clothes, Cara?”
Cara turned away from the crowd and lowered her voice. “We were robbed. They took everything. Can you stop by the gift shop and get something for Coop to wear too?”
“Sure. What size is he?”
Cara covered the phone. “Coop, what size do you wear?”
“Thirty-six long.”
“He’s a thirty-six long. We need everything. We’re both naked as the day we were born.”
Aunt Betty’s laughter rang out, and Cara held the phone away from her ear.
“This isn’t funny, Aunt Betty. Someone violated us.”
“I know. I’m sorry. Please tell me you at least got some of his swimmers.”
