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While I’m most impressed with your many accomplishments, you were most naughty to mislead me. Yes, I know I never asked—and maybe didn’t listen when you hinted, because they’re coming to mind now—but you let me underestimate you. If you were with me, I would tie you up so tightly you couldn’t move and strap you with my belt until you dissolved into those gorgeous tears. I’m hard now thinking about it.
Ah, how I will miss you.
I should mention that arranging for pipers in Cozumel is not easy. “Piping” isn’t really our thing. Also, I can’t think of a way for it to be sexy. I’d had vague thoughts originally of playing with eleven dildos in your various orifices. (Since I promised to tell you all the dirty things I thought of at first. Things one would never do to the illustrious CEO of a Fortune 500 corporation.) Alas, I’m not there to punish and diddle you as ROO so richly deserves and I’m loathe to ask someone else to do it. Instead I’m offering something else.
A treasure hunt.
If you wish, my driver will take you to the docks, where you can take the Oro yacht back to the island. I’ve cleared the legalities, as it is not THEIRS yet. I’ve included a map of things for you to see, places I didn’t have the...courage? I’m not sure. That I did not show you on our too-brief night there.
I understand if you have other things you’d rather do, but I’d like to share this with you.
Miguel
P.S. Yacht railings are excellent for tying up sexy women. Something for you to think about.
Swamped with both desire and a raft of emotions, she decided on another swim. The man really managed to turn her inside-out. What was his game with sending her back to his island?
Of course she wanted to go. And, duh, a yacht!
* * *
The Señora d’Oro was a classically styled yacht, with a full crew at her disposal. It felt decadent and glamorous—and oh, so fabulous. With Miguel so heavy on her mind, she wore the Marilyn dress he’d liked so much. Damn him for that postscript about the railings. Fantasies of just what he had in mind plagued her for the short journey to the island and she had to turn her mind firmly away from those images.
She wondered why had he flown her there instead of taking the yacht, then remembered his boyish delight in showing her he could fly the plane. Things had changed between them somewhere around then. He’d begun to see her as more than just a fling. He’d wanted to impress her. Men—they were forever the boys on the playground, showing off their prowess to please the girls.
He’d pleased her all right.
Over and over again.
Don’t think about that.
* * *
The “treasure hunt” wasn’t complicated. It only took a few hours to walk the map he’d drawn for her. He’d neatly numbered the various spots and had written stories for her about each. On these vines he’d practiced swinging like Tarzan and had broken his arm. His mother had wanted to ground him from visiting the island as punishment, but his Grandmother Sofia overruled her, saying the injury was lesson enough. In that lagoon he’d learned to swim and snorkel. He’d arranged for snorkel gear and invited her to follow in his footsteps and to say hello for him. The pristine waters offered the best variety and density of aquatic life she’d yet
seen.
At the final spot on the map, she returned to the waterfall and the clearing where they spent the night, and read the last story.
On this spot, I failed to make love to the most amazing woman I’ve ever met. I shall forever regret it.
January 5
Twelfth Day of Christmas
Twelve Drummers Drumming
When she returned to the penthouse, quite late, she walked right up to the counter and tore open the last note.
Did you wait, I wonder, to open this note on Sunday morning? I’m betting no. I would devise an especially devious punishment for you, were that the case.
But there you have it: my final apology. What did you thank me for? “Gifts beyond price,” you said. That line sticks with me, even as my pilot is impatiently waiting for me to finish this note, so we can take off.
You gave me gifts beyond price and I was so wrapped up in the law that I failed to see it.
So, I’ve done this. I called and made an appointment with your charming assistant for Monday afternoon. Your schedule is quite packed, apparently, and she seems fiercely protective of your time. However, I persuaded her to give me 15 minutes at the end of the day to pitch what Oro, Inc., might have to offer you. She warned me that you might refuse the appointment and I told her just how well aware I am of that.
So, I leave it up to you now. No cornering. Your path is open-ended. If you don’t wish to see me again, which I would understand, I will simply leave and never bother you again.
