“Ishould?”
Stuart flushed slightly, then turned toward the dresser and focused on the black eye patch that sat in front of the mirror. “Yeah, you should.” He turned, heading for the door, then stopped at the threshold, turning around with a smug expression. “And in case you didn’t realize, the party’s just a few yards from Kyra’s cabana. She said she’d definitely be there tonight.”
* * *
MERRILEE ANDher staff knew how to put on a bash. From the front of her cabana, Kyra looked around the bonfire-lit beach, hugging herself. It was quite a party.
By the time the evening was over, Kyra hoped it would be a private party. She had no reason to think he’d come to her, not after she’d walked away, but now that she’d talked herself into it, she desperately hoped he would. A bloodred heat swept through her body just from the mere thought of him. She’d probably spontaneously combust when she actually saw him.
Of course, if he didn’t show up, she could always hang upside down from a tree.Thatwould get his attention.
She smiled to herself. Mona would probably suggest she hang upside down in a dress with no underwear. Not a chance. Bold, Kyra could handle. Boldandbrazen, no.
Barefoot, she stepped off the porch into the cool sand, feeling decadent and alive. Just like in her professionallife, she’d made a decision, she’d pushed every doubt out of her mind. She had a plan to seduce Michael, and she was going after it with both barrels. In fact, now that she’d made the decision, it seemed so much the obvious route that she wondered why she’d ever hesitated.
Because you’re a chicken.
Well, that was true enough, but her afternoon of windsurfing lessons had cemented her decision. The instructor had been so absorbed with safety and theory that they never even got off the beach. If Kyra wanted adventure, she was going to have to take steps. And she intended to step in Michael’s direction.
Considering the storm that was supposed to blow in later, the night air was remarkably still. A short distance from her cabana, a fifties-style band was cranking out “Rock Around The Clock,” and she strolled in that direction, approaching the largest of the three bonfires.
She found C.J. and Stuart near the grill. C.J. was wearing a ridiculous-looking chef’s hat, and Stuart was snarfing down hot dogs as fast as C.J. could roll them off the grill.
“I feel like I should have worn a poodle skirt.” Kyra had to shout to be heard over the band.
“Great, isn’t it?” Stuart asked. “Want to dance?”
Kyra shook her head. “I’m starving. You go ahead. I’m going to hit C.J. up for a hot dog.”
Stuart nodded, then bopped away, throwing his armaround one of the college girls who waitressed at the restaurant. Soon, they’d melded into the crowd jamming in front of the band.
“What’s your pleasure?” C.J. asked.
“Mustard, ketchup, relish, chili and onions—wait, hold the onions,” she quickly corrected.
He shot her a sly look and she felt her cheeks flush. She glanced around the beach, looking to change the subject. “Seems like everyone on the island turned out.”
“Pretty much. I don’t see Tony, though.”
“Tony?” She tried to place the name, then remembered. “The guy from the pool. He seemed nice. Why wouldn’t he come?” She grinned. “Does he have a romantic fantasy going on this evening?”
C.J. added some hot dogs to the fire. “I can only hope. But no. More likely he’s self-conscious.”
She remembered his reaction when they’d met and the way he’d turned away, angling to keep his face in the shade. “His scar?”
“From what I understand it’s fairly new.”
She nodded slowly. “It must be difficult, seeing your face change overnight like that. But scar or no, I think he’s good-looking.” She remembered his broad shoulders and wide smile, wondering at the sanity of any woman who’d turn away simply because his eye was ringed by such a nasty scar. Then again, a lot of women put stock in that sort of thing. “He’s got a rugged, protective look. There must be a lot of women who still goga-ga over him.” He seemed like a genuinely nice guy, and she hoped it was true.
“You included?”
“I’m not the ga-ga type.” Her cheeks warmed with the lie. The truth was she wasn’tusuallythe ga-ga type. But Michael had changed all that. She smiled at C.J. “I’m the practical type.”
He passed her a hot dog loaded down with all the trimmings except onions. “Well, now, that’s too bad. Especially on an island like this, sometimes it’s downright fun to fall hard and fast.”
Kyra wasn’t about to admit that she may have done that very thing, so she took a huge bite and chewed furiously.
“My dear, will you watch the grill for a second?” C.J.’s voice sounded unusually strained. “I need to…uh…go get some more buns.”
