AllFreeNovel
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It sounded good. It sounded damn good. And when something sounds too good to be true, it usually is.
“What’s in it for you?”
“Now it’s my turn to wonder if you’re seriously asking me that.” He caressed her with that sensual gaze. “My work is stressful and it’s good for me to have an...outlet to burn off steam when I can. You’re a beautiful woman and something tells me you might enjoy what I have to offer.”
“So, is this what you do? You get called in by the family to cool your heels at the resort, so you look for lonely female tourists on the plane to recruit for off-the-clock R&R?”
He sipped his own margarita, thoughtfully. “Actually, no. I’ve never done this before.” He raked a hand through his thick hair again and the tempered anger came through. “This situation is more personal than most. I’m already on edge, which will not help. It’s serendipitous that we sat next to each other on this flight. I think we are meant to scratch each other’s itches.” He caught and held her gaze with burning promise. “I feel confident in guaranteeing you complete satisfaction.”
She pinned him with a narrow-eyed stare. “Are you cornering me?”
He let his gaze drop to her cleavage, met her eyes again. “Is it working?”
“Actually, yeah.”
“Good,” he purred. “We’ll discuss terms over dinner.”
* * *
Since she’d already arranged for a car from the resort—and she needed to wait for her enormous checked suitcase plus deal with visitor Customs while Miguel breezed through the citizen line with his carry-on—they decided to meet at ten at the patio restaurant.
It didn’t give her tons of time to primp, but enough to rinse off, spray on some perfume, tweak her make-up and shimmy into a spaghetti-strap sundress. Already the air felt blessedly soft and warm. Amazing to have left Philly in shin-deep snow and be here in her fabulous balcony suite with bougainvillea spilling over the rail.
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When she found Miguel at the patio restaurant, she saw he had changed also, out of his sharp lawyer’s suit and into an open shirt of muted blue and a sports jacket. He rose to greet her, kissing her on the cheek, and held her chair when she sat. A grave busboy poured her water from the bottle on the table and she peered at it, trying to read the label.
“Guaranteed clean,” Miguel reassured her. “Oro serves only bottled water, although we are on our own well, which we have tested weekly.”
“Only weekly?” She arched a brow.
“More stringent than U.S. legal standards.”
“I’m sure you’d know.”
“I do. Would you care for wine?”
“You know, I think I’ll stick with another margarita—don’t want to mix up my liquors.”
“I’ll do the same then.” He signaled the waiter, who produced two astonishingly large margaritas, decorated with limes and pineapple chunks marching up the pole of a gold foil umbrella. “Merry Christmas, Roo.”
She wrinkled her nose at him. “Merry Christmas, Mickey.”
“Call me that again and I’ll spank you.”
“Ooh, saucy.”
He didn’t smile back, but gave her a stern look that made her shiver. “Do you enjoy being spanked?”
She focused on her margarita. “I haven’t been spanked since I was a kid. That was not sexy.”
“The way I do it is.”
“I’m not sleeping with you tonight, if that’s what you’re thinking. We just met.” Now, tomorrow night...
“Sleeping with you is decidedly not what I have in mind. I intend for you to be awake and fully aware of everything I plan to do to you.”
That got her attention. That and the hot desire in his eyes. The warm night, the tropical flowers, the surf crashing right below—all conspired to make her throw caution to the Mexican breeze. This would be a hell of a vacation. Fuck Greg.
