Otherwise Engaged (5 page)

He shook his
head and raised his shoulders in a what-can-you-do sort of way. “He is so hot.
He knows he can get away with it. If I weren’t with Tom, and Rain were gay, and
he weren’t such a little man whore, I’d be all over that.”

“Of course he
can.” The hot ones always got away with doing exactly what they wanted to do.
And not doing a thing they didn’t want to do. “But I don’t care what you and
Bettina say. Nothing is going to happen between us.” She’d already decided
that.

Arlen quirked an eyebrow.
“That’s what you say now. You wait
until you’re on that beach. And he’s rubbing on that suntan lotion. And he’s
all half-naked looking good ‘cause you know he spends way too much time in the
gym. And he tells you what a nice rack you have. One thing leads to another…”

“Stop, Arlen,
stop!” She couldn’t stop laughing. Her laugh was too loud, too high-pitched,
but she couldn’t help it. His words embarrassed her. Worse than that, they
painted a picture in her head that wouldn’t go away. And she really wanted to
want it to go away.

#

A week before
Christmas, Daphne and Bettina went to the day spa where they usually got their
waxing done. They had hair appointments later in the day with their respective
hairdressers. They’d each tried the others’ hairdressers, and things hadn’t
worked out for them. Bettina didn’t like the way Daphne’s guy did her layers,
and Daphne didn’t like the way Bettina’s lady styled her bangs.

The wedding
party was having a spa day on New Year’s Eve, the day of the rehearsal dinner,
at the resort hotel’s spa. Daphne wanted a little pre-waxing done though. They
were going to be in San Juan for a few days before the rehearsal dinner, and
she wanted to hit the beach as soon as she got there.

She couldn’t
imagine the beach or wearing nothing but the scrap of material that was her
swimsuit as she and Bettina hurried down the sidewalk from where they’d parked
Bettina’s car, anxious to get out of the frigid, mid-December air. Her fingers
were somewhat warm in her gloves, but her face was numb with cold.

The day spa was
decorated for Christmas. A reef hung on the front door. A small, white,
artificial Christmas tree was located behind the receptionist’s desk and was
decorated with red and blue ornaments. Instrumental, jazz-style Christmas music
played softly over the sound system.

After the
receptionist confirmed what Daphne was getting done, she walked to the back to
let the people who were doing
their
waxing know they
were there. Bettina turned to her, eyebrows raised.

“What?” Daphne
asked innocently, as if she had no clue what was coming when in reality she had
a pretty good idea of what Bettina would say.

“Brazilian wax,
huh?” Those green eyes of Bettina’s were filled with I-told-you-so.

“No! It’s not
like that!” Daphne cried. She hadn’t meant to be so loud, but even though she’d
sort of expected Bettina’s words, they still startled her. In a lower voice of
forced calm, she said, “I only trust Helena with my bikini area, and I’m going
to be wearing a swimsuit as soon as my feet hit the beach.”

“Yeah, Bettina
said. “Sure.” She gave Daphne a look that told Daphne she wasn’t buying what
Daphne was selling.

Daphne dug
through her purse, pretending to look for something. She was so flustered that
she wasn’t even paying attention when her name was called. Bettina snagged her
attention and told her she was wanted in back. She pulled her phone out of her
purse as she walked toward the changing room where she would don a robe before
heading into the waxing room.

She had a new
voice message from Rain. She listened to it before she changed, and her heart
sank. She tried to convince herself she wasn’t disappointed. There was no
reason to be disappointed.

The message
said, “Hey, Daphne. Things are going slower than I expected here. I’m going to
be cutting it close, but I’ll try my best to make it back in time for the
flight to San Juan. Promise. Hope to see you on December twenty-sixth.”

Chapter Eight

She should have
invited Arlen to be her date for the wedding and suggested he and Tom use the
trip as an excuse for a vacation. That’s what she’d been thinking of doing
before Rain called her for brunch.

It was the
morning of the day of the flight. After spending Christmas at her mother’s,
she’d gone home and finished packing. Then she tried to sleep. She had tried to
call Rain, but his phone appeared to be turned off. She tried again this
morning, and it was still off.

Bettina drove
her to Dulles. She was quiet most of the way, thinking about the flight.
Carolina had called to double-check her arrival time. She still hadn’t
mentioned Rain being her wedding date because she wasn’t sure it would happen.
Unfortunately—or fortunately
?—
it didn’t
look like it was going to happen.

Maybe he’d
decided seeing Carolina marry somebody else would be too hard after all and had
decided to back out without saying so. She could see him doing something like
that.

“Are you going
to be okay?” Bettina asked after they’d climbed out of the car and Bettina
helped her get her luggage out of the trunk.

“Yeah. It’s no
big deal,” Daphne said. She didn’t want it to be. She didn’t want to care. And
it wasn’t like Rain was unknown for breaking promises. “I’m sure I’ll meet a
hot Puerto Rican guy and/or random, single wedding guest and have plenty of
great stories for you when I get back.”

“You’d better.”
Bettina squeezed her shoulders. “Have a good flight. Be safe.”

Daphne patted
her back. “I will.”

“Have a great
time. Loosen up. You’re going to Puerto Rico! It’s going to be warm, and sexy
guys are going to be half-naked all around you!”

“I know. Can’t
wait. I’d better get going,” she said. She gave Bettina a final hug and wave.
Grabbing the handle of her suitcase and slinging her tote over her shoulder,
she headed for the American Airlines check-in counter. She had plenty of time before
her flight, and she didn’t feel like checking herself in. She hadn’t gotten
much sleep, she was in a bad mood, and she just wanted to do as little as
possible. Once she made it through check-in and security, she planned on hiding
behind a potboiler of a novel, as her mom liked to call them.
Or maybe just taking a nap.

When she got to
the front, the woman behind the counter smiled and greeted her. She took
Daphne’s I.D. and frowned. She glanced up at Daphne a few times.

“Is something
wrong?” That was the last thing she needed.
An airport snafu
on top of everything else.
And she wasn’t even to security yet. TSA was
the worst.

“Um, not
really. I was just wondering what you were doing in this line,” the woman said.

“This is
American Airlines, right?” Had she been so out of it from lack of sleep she’d
gone to the wrong check-in counter?

“Yes,” the
woman said slowly. “But you could have gone to the priority line for our
first-class customers, Ms. Moore.” The woman handed Daphne’s driver’s license
back to her.

Daphne took it
with loose fingers, almost dropping it. “I don’t understand.”

“It says here
that your ticket was upgraded to first class looks like…a few weeks ago,” the
woman murmured, reading something on her screen. The woman rattled off a date,
but Daphne was only half listening.

It must have
been Rain. He was probably feeling guilty for standing her up. This was almost
certainly a sign he wasn’t going to show up, and he had been planning on not
showing up for some time. That was his way—when you mess up, throw money
at people to make up for it and get them to not be angry
at
you anymore. Maybe it was a natural inclination when you had plenty of money to
throw around. She wouldn’t know.

Daphne smiled
at the woman. “Well. What a nice surprise.”

She did end up
taking a nap at the gate after all. When it was time for first-class passengers
to board, she didn’t even try to call Rain one last time. She turned off her
phone and trudged up to the line with her carry-on and her purse. She listened
to the reminder about passengers being allowed one carry-on and one personal
item she’d heard a million times already yet again.

She took note
of the first-class passengers as the group made their way up the ramp that led
out to the plane. There were a few men in business suits. A woman in bright
pink Juicy Couture sweats who appeared to be a few years younger than Daphne complained
into her smart phone about her mom not taking her—no doubt shi-shi—dog
to the doggie spa yet. A pair of well-dressed women who looked like
forty-somethings and who were laden with jewelry were discussing Christmas in
Tahiti and New Years in San Juan in Spanish. There was a young couple
who
wore sunglasses and couldn’t keep their hands off each
other. They were definitely overdoing the PDA. She wasn’t jealous. No not even
a little bit. Nope. Huh-huh. No way.

Normally, she
enjoyed people watching, but that day she couldn’t get into it. Even though
these first class passengers would ordinarily have been very interesting to
her. Any other time, she would have been making mental notes of overheard tidbits
of conversations to tell Bettina and Arlen about later. At the moment, though,
all she could think about was being dateless for the wedding. What if she was
the only single and completely dateless person there? Not very likely—at
least she hoped it wasn’t very likely—but it could happen. With her luck,
it probably would.

She could see
the torture now. The awkward moment when a slow song starts and everyone offers
their husband or boyfriend or brother for the poor single girl to dance with.
The bouquet toss.
The sympathetic
being-single-is-as-bad-as-being-a-leper-and-I’m-sorry-for-you-but-so-glad-I’m-not-you
smiles on the faces of all the female guests.
Ugh. The torture would
begin all too soon.

A dark-haired man
who’d thanked the flight attendant for scanning his boarding pass in a very
sexy French accent glanced over and caught Daphne looking at him. He gave her a
demure little smile. She was too distressed-startled—the startled part
coming from being caught in the act—to smile back. She would take note of
where he was sitting, though. Maybe the seat next to him wouldn’t be taken, and
she could get to know one of her fellow first-class passengers a little better.
What was it that song said?
Voulez-vous couchez avec moi c’est soir?

Daphne never
splurged on things like first-class. Her first trip beyond the Forbidden
Curtain—as she’d referred to it when sitting in the “steerage”
class—was a pleasant surprise. She almost forgave Rain. Almost. He’d
known exactly what he was doing, though, so she wasn’t going to give him too
much slack. He’d expected this reaction. She wasn’t going to do more than thank
him with cold politeness whenever she finally got in touch with him. She
definitely wasn’t going to gush over these soft leather seats. Or all this
leg room
. Or her private high-definition screen on which
she’d watch movies later. Or even the little table that she could pull out in
front of her as opposed to the old seatback tray she was very familiar with in
coach.

She overheard
someone talking about recent upgrades to the fleet’s first-class cabins. Well,
at least she would be traveling to her fate as the spinster bridesmaid in
luxury.
 

She pulled out
her powered down smart phone and set it in her lap along with her ear buds.
She’d use it for listening to music once they were in the air and could use phones
in airplane mode. Trying to be all non-obvious about it, she stretched and used
the opportunity to look around the plane and locate Sexy French Guy. She found
him sitting near the back and looking right at her. Again, he smiled at her. She
gave him a small smile and turned to face forward again, still smiling to
herself.

The pilot came
over the PA system and informed everyone that they would be closing the doors
and preparing for takeoff in a few minutes. She sat there, debating whether to
take out her novel or whether to wait and see if French guy would make the
first move once the fasten seatbelt sign went off. She was so absorbed with these
thoughts that she barely paid attention to the flurry of activity and commotion
just behind the blue curtain.

She glanced up
when she heard someone say, “Right this way, Mister Foster.”

Her heart
stopped a little bit when Rain burst through the curtain with a small, black
carry-on. Looking windblown and sexy as ever, he walked just ahead of a flight
attendant whom he’d obviously charmed in the few moments he’d known her. The
flight attendant was giving Rain a very smitten look from behind, but he was
looking at Daphne. He gave her a disarming smile that warmed every part of her,
right down to the lonely spot between her legs. There was no way she could be
mad at him now.

He made his way
over to her and chucked the carry-on into the overhead bin. Sitting next to
her, he said, “Sorry I’m late.”

She stared for
a moment, not able to believe he was sitting right
there
next to her. Close enough to touch. And boy did she ever want to touch him.

Chapter Nine

Daphne gave him
a look that was impossible to read and said, “I didn’t think you’d make it.”

He grinned. “Neither
did I at times. But I was determined to not leave you stranded.” He’d been
running—sprinting—since he’d gotten back to BWI. After he’d cleared
security at Dulles, he’d gunned it to the gate, paused momentarily to get his
boarding bass scanned, and then hadn’t stopped running until his feet were on
the same plane as Daphne’s.

He sat back in
the seat next to her and looked her over while trying not to be obvious about
it. She looked great in a soft, white sweater that hugged her curves. Dark
jeans clung to her hips and shapely legs. Nothing brightened his day like a
pair of nice legs in skinny jeans—except for a pair of naked, nice legs.

“When did you
get back?” she asked.

“A few hours
ago. I thought I was going to die when my plane got delayed at Heathrow. I
definitely didn’t have time for that. Then I had just enough time once I got to
BWI to cab it to my place in the city, throw my suitcase down, stuff a few
things in my carry-on, get my garment bag, and make my way out here to Dulles,”
he said. He exaggerated the story of his fight with the cabbie,
who
hadn’t wanted to go all the way out to Dulles in the
first place, to drive faster and was rewarded with a laugh. He paused when the
flight attendant came around to ask if they’d like their pre-takeoff drinks
refreshed. Rain ordered his first, and Daphne said that yes, she wanted hers
refreshed. When the flight attendant walked away, he delved back into his
story, finishing with, “I felt like I was stealing a base in a championship
game when I skidded onto this plane.” He laughed. “I almost called, ‘safe’ when
I made it through the doorway.”

She giggled.
“Do you still play softball in that league during the summers?”

He nodded.
“Yep.” He’d been on his All-State high school baseball team and had played in
college as well. Now he played softball in a league with Skylar’s company’s
team—Rain’s company was too small for its own team—during the
summers, and he often found himself attending Nats games whenever he had a free
moment for them. Some called him a fanatic.
Others, a highly
competitive lunatic.
He considered himself dedicated to the things he
was passionate about.

The flight
attendant came back with their drinks.

Rain settled
back into his seat, able to relax for the first time in hours.

“Are you okay?
I mean
,
are you going to be jet lagged or anything?”
Daphne asked. Her beautiful brown eyes filled with concern. She was one of the
best people he’d ever known. He’d been driven with the need to not let her
down. She’d been there for him so many times—especially when it came to
pouring out his heart about Carolina. Now that the adrenaline from that drive
to get to their plane before takeoff was starting to fade, he felt himself
beginning to drag a little.

He shrugged.
“Maybe. But it was definitely worth it.” Things had almost fallen apart at the
last minute. They’d been able to patch a lot of the deal back together pretty
well, though. Most importantly, they’d gotten Panjamawat’s approval and had
gotten the go-ahead from the government for the factory. He’d had to leave as
they were working out the last details of purchasing a factory that was up for
sale. Rain left things in his uncle’s hands. He’d had to go. He sacrificed
Christmas and left at the last possible minute to make it back in time for the
flight to San Juan. Well, he’d thankfully thought to add on a few hours for
possible delays. He’d needed all of them. There was a possibility he’d have to
go back to Thailand after the wedding, but he knew that he couldn’t stand
Daphne up. He’d worry about all that after the wedding. Plus, everybody knew
how to get in touch with him if something went really wrong.

“They have a
gym at his hotel resort place, right?” Rain patted his flat stomach.

“I’m sure they
do,” Daphne said.

“The aunties
loaded me up on food, and I didn’t work out like I should have when I was in
Thailand.” He clicked in his seatbelt when the flight attendant came around and
reminded him to do so.

“I think we’ll
be eating with Carolina’s family at least a couple of times. They have a fiesta
planned for her, and one of her great-aunts is hosting the rehearsal dinner.
And you know what they say. The food in Puerto Rico is phenomenal.” She glanced
over at him. “Not that you have anything to worry about. You look great as
always.”

“Thanks.” He grinned.
“So do you.”

She smiled in
response. His eyes lingered on her full lips longer than they should have. Those
lips were incredibly soft. He knew. He remembered. They had never talked about when
they’d made out and almost done more that one time in college. That didn’t mean
he’d forgotten it—that he ever could. He couldn’t believe he was getting
hard. Well, he could, but it was so wrong. He couldn’t think about Daphne that
way. She was a friend, and he wasn’t going to mess with that. He didn’t want
her to turn into another bad situation.

Speaking of bad
situations, he thought of Carolina. Soon, he would see her as an
engaged
woman for the first time. With this Manny fool
hanging all off her. Thinking of that deflated his little problem rather
quickly.

#

Daphne knew she
was drinking too much—especially since she hadn’t eaten all day because
she didn’t have time for breakfast and hadn’t been hungry earlier at the
airport—but she kept asking for more champagne anyway. She was having so
much fun laughing and talking with Rain. He was so much more relaxed now, even
if a little delirious probably from lack of sleep, than he’d been at brunch
back in October.

She kept
finding herself reaching over and putting her hand on his thigh when she wanted
to make a point or had thought of something really funny to tell him. She often
did this with her friends—it was habit. But it probably wasn’t
appropriate with a friend she barely talked to anymore. A friend she also
happened to be madly attracted to. She couldn’t help but notice that he didn’t
seem to mind the gesture.

They hit a
pocket of turbulence, and Daphne grabbed Rain’s knee and had to stop herself
from jumping into his lap. She smiled, slightly embarrassed, as she released
her grip on the poor man. “Sorry. I hate turbulence.”

“It’s okay.” He
smiled. “Turbulence is definitely not fun.” He put a reassuring hand on her
arm, and she barely felt the plane trembling anymore. Even through the fabric
of her sweater, his touch had a dangerous effect on her. Her skin tingled. She
imagined that there would be a permanent imprint where his hand had been. She
knew for sure she’d never forget what it felt like. “You could hold my hand
until it’s over if you want to.”

What the hell
was she doing? There was only so much she could blame on the champagne. She
needed to get it together. How was she going to make it through several days in
Puerto Rico with this man if she could barely make it through a simple plane
ride? She shook her head and smiled. “No, thanks.” Out of curiosity and to
distract
herself
, she glanced over her shoulder,
looking for Sexy French Guy for the first time since Rain had boarded the
plane. A woman who seemed to be his wife—or at the very least a
girlfriend—from the intimate way they looked at and talked to each other
sat next to him. Why, that little skank.

She had nerve
to talk, considering she’d been about to climb into Rain’s lap a few moments
ago. Her situation with Rain was more complicated than him being taken, though.
Between the whole Carolina thing and Rain’s man whore tendencies—not to
mention their friendship—there was no way anything could happen between
them.

“Let’s talk
about something to take your mind off it,” Rain said. He’d probably read the
worried look on her face as relating to the turbulence. He then launched into a
hilarious Thailand story that involved one of his auntie’s bartering skills, a
chicken, and a very angry neighbor.

She didn’t even
notice what was happening with the turbulence after that. She felt so
comfortable on the plane with him. She felt kind of drugged, and she didn’t
think it was all because of the champagne. She knew the effect he could have on
women, and that she needed to watch herself, but she couldn’t stop herself from
enjoying every moment she had his undivided attention. When he was tuned into
you, truly listening to you, you felt as if you were the only person on the
planet. No wonder he was so good at networking. With that face and his people
skills, he could probably get anything he wanted.
From
anybody.
And he was probably used to doing so.

Damn Bettina
and Arlen for putting these ideas in her head. But had they, though? Had she
really needed any help getting these ideas going? One look at Rain’s pretty boy
face had her doubting that she had.

His eyes were
definitely his best feature. They had that hint of the exotic to them. Enough
to make you look twice, but different enough that you weren’t sure right away
why he was more alluring than most other men walking down the street. Great
bone structure. She smiled, thinking of the time in college that he’d modeled
for a calendar for charity. It had been a fundraiser for a charity his
fraternity volunteered with. And he’d always been a favorite at date auctions.
So popular, and there was no doubt about why.

And she would
have him all to herself, in her suite, for over a week. Oh, the possibilities.

Stop it right now before you get yourself in
trouble. You cannot think this way, okay? You know it’s dangerous and you know
why
, she chastised herself. Rain stretched his arms. Because he wore a polo
shirt, she was able to admire the muscles in his biceps and forearms while he
stretched. She pictured what the ones in his chest and back looked like under that
polo shirt. Maybe he would want to spend a lot of time on the beach, too. Shirtless.
There she went again. His shirt rode up enough for her to glimpse the dark hair
on his lower abdomen as he continued to stretch. She’d be willing to bet he
still had his six-pack. Damn him and his low jeans. Her heart thudded, and she
wet her lips.

I want him.

She had the
feeling her bright idea to accept Rain’s invitation to be a wedding date was
going to get her in more trouble than she could handle. And she’d compounded it
by inviting him to live in close quarters with her for a week. Despite all of
this, she couldn’t help thinking that if she was going to get in a lot of
trouble,
she was going to enjoy it more than she’d enjoyed
anything in a very long time.

How long has it been since I’ve had sex? Has
it really been over a year? Wow. I guess I let that creep up on me
, she
thought. Damn. Her only bedroom companion had been her vibrator for over a
year. She’d been turned off by the idea of dating only to end up in one more
failed relationship with yet another cheater. She’d decided to take a break,
and the break just kept extending itself. She’d been so adamant in swearing off
men, she hadn’t really thought about the not having any sex part. And she
needed to stop thinking about it now.

She couldn’t
help herself, though. She felt an animalistic attraction to him even though
nothing could happen between the two of them for so many reasons. Not the least
of which was, he’d been in love with one of her best friends for years. That
didn’t change the fact that she was hot for him, though. Who
wouldn’t
be hot for him?

“Do you want
it?” he asked.

“Excuse me?”
She shook her head to clear it. Either she was hallucinating or he could read
minds. She squinted into his hazel eyes as she tried to figure out which it
was.

He grinned,
holding up a bowl of fruit. “The flight attendant gave me an extra one, but I’m
not that hungry. Ate too much on the last flight. I was asking if you wanted
this.”

Oh yeah she
did.
All of it.
Until she couldn’t
walk straight.
But that obviously wasn’t what he’d meant.

“Sure. Thanks.”
She took the bowl from him. Their fingers touched for a moment, sending tingles
over her skin yet again. “For the fruit I mean.”

“Sure,” he
said, watching her carefully, probably wondering why her reaction had been so
weird.

“It’s good,”
she said before gulping down fruit so she wouldn’t be expected to talk and as a
substitute for what she really wanted to do.

Every time he
was close, she wanted to climb him like a tree.