‘That’s the spirit!’
The man, Erin thought as the jeep began bumping its way back to the hotel and away from the hot, tiny town, was insufferable.
Brilliant…sharp…edgy…challenging and stupidly good-looking, all of which combined probably explained the highly developed insufferability gene.
He expected her to show up, politely do what she had to do and then leave just as soon as was humanly possible. That was his impression of her in a relaxed environment. So she didn’t really like work social dos! Since when was that a crime?
She did her absolute utmost to spend the rest of the day enjoying the hotel grounds, which were more extensive than she’d first thought.
She had some lunch in the same place where earlier she and Raffaele had had breakfast, chatted to some of the guests and then explored the untamed gardens. By midday, there were no thoughts of creepy-crawlies. The sun shone down with searing heat, making her feel lazy and lethargic and not at all in the mood for doing any work. She managed to find the waterfall, which was tucked away in a clearing. It was easy because she just had to follow the voices of a few of the guests enjoying the cool, refreshing water, and as she lingered at the side, watching them have fun, she wished she’d had the foresight to wear her swimsuit.
At the back of her mind, as she strolled through the forested grounds and explored the more cultivated gardens, a huge section of which was devoted to vegetables and beds of fresh herbs, the image of Raffaele lingered. She expected to bump into him at any given moment. The man had a habit of catching her unawares.
She didn’t feel as horrifically exposed as she’d always imagined she would after sharing a slice of her private life with him, but she had made a decision. This was her chance to turn over a new leaf. The time had come to put her annoying crush on her boss to bed.
Now that she’d started down that road, it would be so easy to keep spilling little pieces of herself, to parcel out glimpses of her unusual background in the hopes it would win her scraps of surprise and amusement from her sexy boss. But unusual backgrounds didn’t always make for anything interesting. Unless she changed her behaviour, she would always still be the sparrow who didn’t know how to live life to the full, nursing an impossible crush instead of striking out in search of something real.
The sense of adventure that had swept through her when she’d stepped off the plane straight into the searing tropical heat swept through her again as she had a shower and relaxed and decided what she was going to wear for the meet-and-greet later on.
Why stick to her comfort zone? Here? In this amazing place that begged for her to live, for a moment, in a different skin…?
Raffaele made it back to the hotel with not much time to spare. He felt borderline traumatised by lunch with the bore who had droned on interminably about every single little setback that had befallen him and his wife on their six-week sailing tour of the Grenadines. Raffaele was sorely tempted to tell him that he should just pack it in because if he couldn’t enjoy what everyone else would have given their right arm to do, then he didn’t deserve the opportunity to do it.
He’d refrained but had spent several hours trying not to look at his watch too much and swatting away the man’s wife.
Bridgette, blonde, leggy and all of thirty-four—thirty years younger than her rich husband—had greeted them at the yacht in a bikini and had spent the rest of her time surreptitiously trying it on with Raffaele.
It had been exhausting.
She’d reminded him a little of the women he was accustomed to dating, the same pouting physical perfection that expected attention from the opposite sex. But in this case, a wedding ring on her finger hadn’t stood in the way of her relentlessly flirting.
The thought of seeing Erin, with her interesting background and her intelligent, cool, witty conversation, had had the call of the siren.
Now, as he shut the cabin door behind him to head to the hotel for the drinks party, he debated whether to knock on her door.
But no. He should leave her to it for now. Let her savour her time before the party. She was probably nervous. Strange place…unfamiliar faces…look at how spooked she’d been the night before when a bat had flown into the cabin! She hadn’t yet settled into the vibe on this small tropical island. Her normal cool control was temporarily missing in action.
He liked the thought of holding her hand, metaphorically speaking, for the evening. If it came to discussing business, she would be brilliant as she always was, but he doubted there would be much of that.
There would also be a lot more people than originally planned. The modestly sized gathering had swollen to include friends and friends of friends and businessmen who all knew each other because the island was so small. Word of mouth had sent the numbers soaring.
She would be lost.
He idly savoured the pleasurable thought of swooping in as her knight in shining armour once again as he strolled unhurriedly towards the main hotel, which was lit up like a Christmas tree.
The place was much busier than it had been previously. Not only busy with the hotel guests, scant though their numbers were, but busy with people arriving in droves, laughing in groups.
He marvelled at the informality of it all. Back in the UK, no one would have ever contemplated tagging along to any party he threw unless there was an official invite. For starters, they would never have been able to bypass border patrol at his front door.
He spotted Gary, waved and cast one backward glance over his shoulder in the direction of the cabin where Erin was no doubt getting ready and maybe wondering whether she would fit in.
‘A few more people than I’d anticipated.’ He had to raise his voice as Gary fell into step with him. They entered the main hotel together, Raffaele towering over the smaller guy by at least ten inches and exuding the sort of lazy power that made people spin around to look at him with interest.
He was idly looking around. He reckoned there would be perhaps forty people there in total, excluding hotel guests who would be milling around but not allowed through to the various rooms where the informal get-together was being held.
He could hear the sound of music growing more insistent as they exited towards the back of the main hotel, out to a separate building which was used for functions.
Gary was telling him something about the function rooms. Weddings…anniversaries…private parties…not as popular as it could be…sometimes tourists in particular liked to have a beach on their doorstep…how could a beach compare to a rainforest…beaches were two a penny…every Caribbean island had one…
