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“Okay,” I said, trying to dodge around him. He kept blocking me, and the tables were so close together I had no where to go. The edge of the pier was behind me, closer than I’d have liked.
“Look,” he said, “I’m a nice guy. I want to show you a good time.” He was way too close, I was feeling panicked.
“I’m sure you are,” I said, “but I just need to go.”
“No,” he said, “You are going to stay…” he kept talking but I couldn’t hear the words over the sound of a boat motor near the pier.
So I just shoved at his chest, tired of talking, tired of being nice. I may as well have been pushing against the wall. Even unsteady on his feet, I couldn’t budge him.
“MOVE!” I shouted over roar of the the boat.
Dylan grabbed my arm, hard, and I swung my other arm back before he could grab it, fully intending to slap him, for all the good it would do.
But when I swung my arm back, suddenly there was something heavy in my hand. Without thinking, I just swung it forward, hitting Dylan squarely in the chest with a heavy metal saute pan. All Clad.
I turned around.
Behind me, standing in a motor boat, wearing a tuxedo and grinning like a mad man, was Walker Alexander.
His hand was outstretched and I grabbed it, jumping down into the boat. I looked back up onto the pier to see Dylan sitting on the floor, looking stunned and the hostess and waitress applauding me.
I turned back to Walker, who was still holding my hand. “Where did you come from?” I asked, staring into those green-gold eyes.
“Dinner meeting,” he said, smiling. He wrapped me into his arms and I let the pan fall to the bottom of the boat. As his mouth closed on mine, I heard cheers from the restaurant behind me. I felt like cheering myself.
His scent, the feel of his lips, the taste of his mouth, it all felt so familiar, like we’d known one another forever. But my knees still buckled with the thrill of the new.
Lowering me onto a seat, he said, “Let’s get out of here,” and steered the boat away from the pier.
As the adrenaline cleared away, I realized I was right back where I started. “Cut the engine!” I shouted to Walker.
He turned the boat off, leaving us bobbing in the swells.
“Thank you for the well timed rescue. It was very dramatic. But I need some answers.”
“I know.” Walker sat down across from me. “Look, what you heard Celia say into the phone was all lies. She was trying to drive you away. And,” he added, “she was pretty successful.”
“How did you hear about it then?”
"Rosa overheard. She told Mother. They both like you. So Rosa told my mom out of anger, knowing that Mother wouldn’t want me to marry Celia or hurt you. And Mother called me, also angry, demanding that I explain myself. So I went to Celia, really angry, and she admitted it." He took my hands. “All lies. I did not have sex with Celia and I sure as hell didn’t agree to marry her. Good god, no.”
It was a lot to take in. I hoped with all my heart that it was true.
“So you came to Aruba to tell me?” He nodded. “How did you find me?”
“I have people.”
“Why did you bring the pan?”
He laughed. “I don’t know. It was a silly idea. It just seemed like I should. Turns out, I was right. I’m glad you didn’t hit him in the head with it, we might have had to flee to international waters.”
“Man, that felt good,” I said.
“Why were you with that douchebag?”
I shrugged. “He seemed nice last night, I just wanted to have some fun, Kiera would be disappointed if I didn’t have some island sex.”
Walker smiled. “Does she care which island?”
I cocked my head.
“It’s just I have a house, but it’s on Bonaire.” He gestured out to sea. “I thought I could make you some pudding, like I promised.”
I was finding it hard to breathe again. He was back, he was taking me to his island getaway.
“Is this your boat?” I asked.
“It is now,” he said with a wicked grin.
“What does that mean? Did you steal it?”
He laughed again, “No, quite the opposite. I over-paid for it, but there was traffic in Oranjestad, so a boat was the quickest way to get to you.”
My man bought a boat so he could get to me. That’ll make a gal weak in the knees. Good thing I was sitting down.
“So, can we go now?” he asked. I nodded and he fired up the boat motor.
I leaned back and watched the stars as we sped toward the nearby island. When the stilling of the motor woke me, I realized I’d dozed off. It took a minute to get my bearings. Oh yeah, on a boat with Walker. As it all came back to me, I was flooded with warmth.
“We’re here,” Walker said. He threw a rope over the dock and secured the boat to it. “I called ahead so the house would be open and aired out. It gets pretty stuffy when I’m not there.” He vaulted effortlessly out of the boat and reached down to help me.
“Sorry, this dress isn’t exactly made for climbing,” I said, struggling to get my legs up.
“It doesn’t need to be,” he said, eyeing me appreciatively as I got to my feet on the dock. “This is a whole new Andrea.”
“Nah,” I said, “Same Andrea in Kiera’s dress.” oh yeah! Kiera! “Oh crap, I need to call and let her know where I am. She’ll be worried if I don’t at least turn up by morning.”
“Does she have a phone?”
“No, but I can leave a message at the hotel. Can I call from your phone?”
I placed a quick call to our hotel to leave the message for Kiera. She probably wouldn’t even think to check until lunch tomorrow. We headed up the dock and as my eyes adjusted, I realized just what I was seeing.
The dock led to a beach so white it seemed to glow in the moonlight. From the beach, a pebble mosaic path wound up, lit on either side, to an enormous house. As we got closer, I could see that the part facing the water was all open. The house was made of white stucco that, like the beach, seemed to glow in the moonlight.
“Wow,” I said, starstruck.
“Yeah, it’s nice,” said Walker. “I wish I got to spend more time here.”
The open room we walked in to from the path had a fire pit on one side and a hot tub on the other. I worked in fancy houses all the time, but this was unlike anything I’d ever seen in real life. It was the sort of thing you’d see on TV and think “Real people don’t live like that.”
Yet here he was, real. And with me.
I followed Walker into the kitchen, gawking like a tourist at the teak furniture, the fine linen curtains, the marble floors. The kitchen took my breath away. Industrial appliances, all gleaming, the countertops were all inlaid with shells and beach glass, coated with a shining surface.
I was stroking the counter by the sink when Walker stepped in behind me and wrapped his arms around me. “So,” he murmured in my ear, sending jolts clear down to my toes, “do you really want pudding?”
I lifted my hand and laced my fingers into his hair, pulling his head closer. “Yes”, I whispered into his ear, "Make me some pudding. Hot."
A stiffness grew against my rear when I said that and I pressed back against him to let him know I knew it was there. But I just said, in my most sultry voice, “I didn’t get to eat dinner.”
His hands clutched my hips and pulled me tight against him before releasing me.
“Okay, temptress,” he said, “Please get the milk from the fridge while I get started.”
