IslandAffair

Island Affair

Cait Miller

When Robin decides to spend his vacation at a gays-only
resort on a beautiful island to escape from his suffocating hometown, falling
in love wasn’t on the agenda. John is handsome and unashamed and Robin finds
himself swept away. However, the enigmatic Scotsman harbors a dangerous secret.

Their island affair explodes with a passion neither man
expected. As they realize something stronger is blossoming between them, events
conspire to separate them and both men are irrevocably changed. Robin returns
home to pick up the pieces of his life, slipping back into the small-town
closet and putting the island behind him. John has other ideas, but staying
together might be the least of their worries.

Reality has a way of making you work for your happily ever
after.

Chapter One

He was a god.

Ever since his neighbor arrived a couple of days ago, John
hadn’t been able to take his eyes off the man. He certainly wasn’t the kind of
guy who usually drew John, with his slim athletic body, boy-next-door face and
light-brown hair. Normally he went for bigger, more muscled, hairier guys. The
kind of man who couldn’t be mistaken for anything other than a man when they
were under you. Or on top of you. John wasn’t fussy about position, sex was sex
and it was all good. Not that his neighbor could be mistaken for a woman, not
with that body. Today he wore a semi-transparent white shirt, open to display a
smooth, tanned, hair-free chest and ridged abdomen. A pair of baggy khaki
shorts instead of his usual black swim trunks sat low on his hips. His short,
wavy brown hair was covered with a navy-blue baseball cap and his feet were
bare. He carried a pair of flip-flops in one hand.

John let his eyes caress the length of him. He suspected he
was only a couple of inches short of his own six-two height. His gut knotted as
an image flashed into his head of those sleekly muscled arms wrapped around
him, the hair-roughened legs entwined with his. Hard cocks brushing against
each other. John would drop to his knees on the hot sand, press his face
against the damp Lycra and breathe in the musky scent of the other man’s
arousal. He could slide the trunks down those lean thighs and take the
straining erection into his mouth.

John groaned and shifted his stance to ease the pressure of
his hard-on. Oblivious to the lust-filled thoughts directed at him, the man
walked slowly along the white sand on the edge of the ocean. His head tilted to
the warm sun in silent worship until he reached the path through the trees that
led back to the center of the resort. Making the kind of impulsive decision
that had landed him here in the first place, John jumped off the shaded deck of
the cottage and followed him.

Great, John, just great. Here you are in paradise and
you’re passing your time by stalkin’ some innocent man. What the bloody hell
are you doin’?

He willed his heated body into submission, concentrating on
the beautiful surroundings in an effort to calm himself. The name Paradise
wasn’t far wrong—the small island where he had spent the last three weeks had
it all. It was hard to believe he was located somewhere off the southwestern
shore of the United States and not somewhere in the Caribbean. Sunshine, blue
skies, palm trees, white sandy beaches, a warm, clear ocean and just enough
people to keep you from feeling bored or lonely. But bored and lonely was
exactly how he had felt. Despite the fact that nowadays he was technically
never alone. Even now he was aware of the eyes on him and now and again he
caught the rattle of static from a handheld radio, though they did their best to
give him the illusion of privacy. What is it they say? No man is an island? He
smiled to himself ruefully, very fitting.

During the first week he knew he had driven his bodyguards
crazy, pacing and twitching like an addict coming off a high, only John’s drug
of choice had been work. And it had gotten him into trouble just as surely.
After two weeks he had finally gotten used to the inactivity but his brain was
screaming for some kind of occupation. He hadn’t wanted to have anything much
to do with the activities taking place in the main resort and so he had kept
mainly to his cottage. He told himself that a distraction was all his handsome
neighbor was to him. The fact that the man also seemed to have little interest
in leaving their little stretch of beach intrigued him, but part of him knew
there was more to his attraction than that.

If only he hadn’t let his customary impatience overrule him
that day. If he’d waited for the elevator instead of taking the stairs he’d
still be back in New York, listening to Carol, his secretary, nag him about how
he needed to get a life. He wouldn’t have found himself embroiled in a murder
case and separated from everything that mattered in his life. And if he had
taken care of his reservations instead of letting Carol handle it then he
wouldn’t have found himself hiding away on a resort for gay couples and
singles. He could have been in Scotland, visiting relatives and fending off
aunties who wanted to know why he hadn’t married a nice American girl yet. He
should have known his secretary would seize the chance to interfere. On top of
that, it was largely his overprotective mother’s fault he was surrounded by
bodyguards. His life was full of interfering women, was it any wonder he swung
the other way?

He smiled with grim humor. His secretary would hardly
recognize him now without his sober suit and tie. In its place he wore a bright
Hawaiian shirt and knee-length khaki shorts. It had been days since he last
shaved. His jaw sported a fair crop of bristly red-blond whiskers and his
sensible haircut had grown out to hang over his shirt collar and blow in his
blue eyes. What use did he have for business suits on a tropical island? And no
one here gave a damn whether he shaved or cut his hair, himself included.

John rounded a corner in the path at a trot, catching sight
of his neighbor just ahead. He slowed his pace, keeping his distance as his
neighbor wandered through the pool complex, gaze fixed on the horizon. He
caught his breath when the man stumbled over a bag and nearly fell into the
heavily chlorinated water. John quickened his pace, reaching him just as he
stepped on a pair of sandals and lost his balance again, teetering over the
edge of the pool. As he reached out to clutch the man’s shirt, gravity won the
battle. John had time to grab a quick breath of air before they splashed into
the shallow water in a confusion of limbs. John’s head hit the tiled edge with
a thud that reverberated through his skull and brought with it a wave of
darkness.

* * * * *

Life filtered back with unmerciful speed. Sound came first,
echoing then sharpening until he could make out a jumble of voices.

“Is he all right?”

“Someone get the doctor.”

“Step back, sir.”

Sensation flooded his body. He was wet and lying on a warm,
hard surface. Pain throbbed from his temple building up to the kind of headache
he had in university after his one and only two-day bender. His chest ached as
if an elephant was sitting on it.
What the hell happened?
A groan turned
into a racking cough that made the throb increase to a pound and he lifted his
hand to grope for the axe that must be sticking in his head. A lump the size of
a golf ball graced his hairline. No wonder his head was killing him.

“Welcome back. Take it easy, you fell in the pool and hit
your head.”

The gentle American voice made John reluctantly squint his
eyes open. Intelligent greenish-brown eyes smiled at him and memory came
flowing back. His neighbor, his
wet
neighbor, hair slicked back, shirt
clinging to the muscular planes of his chest. John closed his eyes and groaned
again as he realized that instead of saving his neighbor,
he
had ended
up rescuing John.

“Sir, step back please. We’ll take care of him now.”

John’s eyes snapped open at the intrusive growl and he
turned his head to see one of his four shadows frowning at them while two more
tried to break up the ring of curious onlookers. All three were dressed
casually but he knew the long shirts concealed holstered guns and two of the
three carried small handheld radios. Ignoring his rescuer’s look of concern, he
pushed himself upright and tried not to wince at the increased pressure in his
skull.

“It’s all right, Dan,
Ah’m
all right.” His voice was
hoarse. Dan Sanders only shook his head and turned to help the other two men.
“Don’t move. Just sit right there until the doctor checks you out.” John
scowled and looked back at his neighbor. The man had turned to frown at Dan’s
back but John hadn’t missed that blink of surprise at his broad Scottish
accent. Ten years working in the States and it hadn’t faded any. His friend and
colleague, Max, called it “a date magnet” and John couldn’t deny that he might
have taken advantage of that a time or two. Mind you, he wasn’t usually in
serious need of a shave and a haircut—not to mention a fashion consultant—when he
spoke to men he was interested in. He forced a smile onto his face and
discovered even that hurt as he offered a hand.

“John. I believe we’re neighbors. You have no idea how
pleased I am to meet you. Thanks for haulin’ my arse out of there.” He coughed
again, easier this time, but his throat still burned like fire from the
chlorine. His rescuer looked away from the guards and smiled at him, shaking
John’s hand briefly.

“Robin Grant. It was nothing. I think it was my fault
anyway, I should have been watching where I was going.” He nodded at Dan.
“Maybe you should listen to him, John. You hit your head pretty hard. Not to
mention you swallowed a lot of the pool water.” He ran his fingertips over the
tender lump on John’s forehead, frowning in concern. Despite the pain even that
gentle caress brought, a thrill of awareness shot though him and his cock tried
valiantly to respond. When the hand dropped John wanted to ask to be touched
again, but pushed the thought from his mind. Too soon,
far
too soon.

“Och, it’ll be fine. I’ve got a hard head.”
One that
feels as if it is going to explode any minute.

Robin smiled again and rolled his eyes, skepticism clear,
but let it go. “Thanks for trying to stop me from falling in.”

“It was a daft thing to do, I didn’t even think about it. I
think it’s me who owes you now,” John said ruefully.

He shook his head. “Let’s just say we’re even then.” He
quirked a brow. “Not to state the obvious but, you’re Scottish?”

“Technically, yes.”

Robin’s smile grew wider. “That sounds like a pretty big
technicality.”

John shot a glance at Dan, who had finally succeeded in
getting rid of their audience and now stood alert, eyes traveling restlessly
over the poolside vacationers. “I haven’t lived in Scotland for ten years.”
Robin followed his gaze and curiosity shone from his eyes.

“Who are these guys?”

Now that was something he wasn’t ready to explain. What if
they frightened Robin away? Besides, he had sworn not to tell anyone the who or
whys of it, they felt he was safer that way. Deliberately John let his gaze
roam the length of Robin’s body from his water-slick hair to equally wet
shorts, which now outlined the bulge of what looked like the start of a very
impressive erection, and let his interest show in his face. “Bodyguards,” he
said dismissively. Surprisingly, instead of responding in kind Robin blushed
and looked away, clearly uncomfortable with his appraisal.

What was Robin doing here if he was uncomfortable with
another man’s interest? Intrigued John leaned closer, catching the scent of coconut
and soap from Robin’s honey-gold skin. A drop of water from his wet hair
trickled down his face to his neck. Robin’s hand lifted to brush it away and
John dragged his eyes back to his face.

“Bodyguards?” he asked, doubt clear in his tone as he took
in John’s disheveled and obviously fit appearance.

John shrugged and smiled ruefully. “It’s a long story.” He
caught sight of his fourth shadow over Robin’s shoulder and grimaced. The guard
was weaving his way through the sun-worshippers with a short, portly man in
tow. His black bag marked him clearly as a doctor and made John frown harder.
Robin followed his glare and a tension he hadn’t noticed relaxed out of the
man’s shoulders. He rose smoothly to his feet, the friendly impersonal smile
back on his face.

“Well, it looks as though the cavalry has arrived. It was
nice to meet you Mr…uh, John.” Robin searched the concrete around him, not
meeting his eyes, and John realized he was looking for his belongings.

Knowing he planned to leave, John made another rash
decision.

“Have dinner with me,” John blurted.

“I don’t even know you.” He blushed again and John knew that
he wanted to find out what else made the man flush with color, wanted to see
him again with an uncomfortable longing. It made no sense and he gave in to it
anyway.

“You know me well enough to drag me out of the pool. I owe
you dinner for that at least.”

“You don’t owe me anything. I really don’t think it’s a good
idea.”

“A drink then,” John coaxed, smiling at him. “What harm
could it do? Please, let me buy you a drink at least.”

He smiled back. “All right, a drink.”

“In the hotel bar, at nine. I’ll look forward to it.”

Robin nodded and turned away, bending to pick up his shirt,
flip-flops and soggy baseball cap. John admired the taut curve of his backside
through the damp fabric.
Oh, I am definitely looking forward to it.