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The men took their rum and disappeared into the crowd. It wasn’t much, but at least he had a piece of information for Cain, one piece closer to owning Starlight. A guilty feeling robbed him of his joy. The sentiment had everything to do with a feisty pussycat gone uncharacteristically tame tonight.
It was pointless trying to sleep. Asia sat up in bed with her penlight torch and book. Shortly after one, Sean stumbled into the room. He squinted when she turned the light on his face. Shadows marred his eyes and lines of fatigue gave his sensual mouth a hard edge.
He ran a hand through his hair and pulled off his T-shirt before he even reached his bed. The muscles of his naked chest bulged in the moonlight as he threw the T-shirt onto a chair. He looked as if he was cut from stone and coated in male power.
“Morning,” he said with his baritone lilt. Facing the chair, he unbuckled his belt.
She rested her back against the headboard. “Hey.”
He turned back to her. “We need to talk.”
His belt hung loose, and the top button of his jeans was undone, exposing the elastic of his briefs and the sharply cut lines of his hips. A trail of dark hair ran from his navel and disappeared under the elastic.
“Stop undressing me with those pretty eyes, lass,” he said in a husky voice.
She switched off her flashlight. Was she staring that openly? The only way to fight her embarrassment was with defiance. “You started it.”
“Don’t change the subject, Eve.”
“Eve?” She raised an eyebrow.
“Seductress.”
“You’re the one who was holding the apple in front of my nose.”
“An apple, aye?”
She imitated his Scottish accent. “Aye.”
“Isn’t it supposed to be a carrot?”
“Now you’re getting suggestive.”
He chuckled. “Very funny, but you’re not going to sidetrack me.”
“You mean you’re not going to take a bite from the apple, or you’re not going to let me have that dangling carrot?”
He crossed the short distance between their beds and stopped in front of her. “Such a naughty mouth.”
She took in the tense set of his shoulders. “Long night again?”
He shrugged. “It comes with the job.”
“You think they’ll party like this every night, the whole week long?”
“This isn’t late by their standards.”
“How do you manage? I’d never be able to work your hours.”
“The first two nights are usually the worst. After that, it should calm down a bit. The hangovers should keep them in check, unless they get their second breath.”
“I saw your show last night. You’re good.”
“I know.”
“Modesty is a desirable trait.”
“So is honesty,” he deadpanned, something regretful to his tone.
Not only was he good at his job, but the girls loved him. They swooned over him, flashing their breasts whenever he turned his head in their direction. His tips had to be good—a lot better than hers.
“How much do you make in a night?” she asked.
His smile stretched into a grin. “It’s not good manners asking a man you’re undressing with your eyes for his bank balance. I may get ideas.”
She rolled her eyes. “I was just wondering.”
“If Juan pays me more than you?”
She tried not to look guilty. “How much do you make?”
“If you tell me your wage, I’ll give you a simple yes or no.”
“Yes or no what?”
“Yes, I make more money than you or no.”
Suppressing a smile, she said, “That’s industrial espionage.”
“Industrial espionage? You’re the one who wanted—” He caught himself. “You’re messing with me.” Shaking his head, he said, “You’re something else.”
“I know,” she said, wagging her eyebrows as she repeated his earlier words.
“Ah, fuck, this is a conversation I can’t win, but just so you know, since I haven’t slept, and you’re all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, you have an unfair advantage.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I haven’t slept either.”
“Why?” he asked in a gentle tone. “Is it the business with Juan that’s bothering you?”
“Yes and no.”
“I was serious when I said we need to talk.”
“That’s what a boyfriend says to a girlfriend when he’s going to break up with her. Since I’m not your girlfriend, we don’t have to talk or do anything, for that matter.”
“You’re leaving this island, lass.”
She’d already come to that conclusion. Rubbing her nose in it wasn’t going to help. “Go to bed, Sean.”
“That’s all you’ve got to say?”
“Good night?” she offered with fake humor.
“Aye. Good night.” Turning on his heel, he headed for the bathroom.
When Asia stepped out of the shower the following morning already dressed in her working attire, Sean stood waiting with his arms and ankles crossed and a shoulder braced against the wall. He’d pulled on his jeans but his chest was bare. Her gaze dropped to the suitcase next to him on the floor—her suitcase.
“Why are you posing with my luggage?” she asked, toweling dry her hair.
“You’re leaving, kitten.”
“There’s no need to rub it in.”
