Sweet Vengeance (43 page)

The
woman didn't move.

Apparently
she was too distracted to read Joe's mind.  He sighed in frustration as the
woman put her hand on the punk's arm again, and Joe turned away, knowing her
touch was a come-on.  The final blow. 

He
should kick himself for not approaching her when she'd first walked in.  He
finished his drink, and reconsidered his thoughts.  Actually, what did he
care?  She was nothing more than one in a long line of women who'd come to Cabo
looking for excitement.  If he didn't hook up with her, there would always be
someone else.

"Pay
up, honky," Marcus barked as he elbowed him in the ribs.  "Fifty
bucks says I'm right that she would go for a younger guy.  Look at her.  She's
a woman who knows what she wants, and it ain't you."

Shit. 
That's why he cared.  He hated to lose a bet.  That pretty lady had just cost
him a Grant.  "Yeah, yeah," Joe replied.  He narrowed his eyes,
glaring at his new-found buddy who had a fondness for ridiculous Hawaiian
shirts.  "But I'm putting you on notice.  Come tomorrow, if you can't dig
up something to wear that's not so hard on the eyes, I'm not sitting by you. 
You're giving me a headache."

"What's
wrong with my shirt?"  The hick's eyebrows knitted together as he glanced
down at his attire and then back at Joe.  "I wouldn't knock it, if I were
you.  I'm the one who's taking home all the ladies."

"Whatever." 
Joe chuckled, but Marcus spoke the truth.  His cowboy friend had gone home with
a different woman every night that week.  "I could have if I'd wanted to,
and besides, you haven't landed that blonde yet."

"You
haven't landed anyone.  Did your dick shrivel up and fall off?"  Marcus
snorted.  Joe decided he was going to find a new drinking buddy tomorrow night
regardless of whether or not Marcus found a new shirt.  Joe had come to Cabo to
relax and unwind from life.  Not to put up with this kind of shit.

Joe
narrowed his eyes.  "You wish.  They're only going with you because I'm
not asking." 

Marcus
swiveled his seat toward the dance floor, laughing.  "Keep thinking what you
want, and I'll keep gettin' laid."

His
crazy friend's comments gave him pause.  Maybe he did need to see a doctor. 
There were tons of gorgeous women hanging around the resort, and yet, he hadn't
made a play for any of them. 

He
downed a hearty swallow of beer, the liquid forcing its way through his
constricted throat.  Could he be losing his sex drive?  Shit, he wasn't even
forty yet. 

The
thought sobered him.

After
his long-time girlfriend had broken up with him, he'd sailed his boat from
California to Cabo for a few months, thinking that pursuing his love of diving,
drinking and women would give meaning to his life.  It sure hadn't held much
value while he'd been with Kathy.  So, he'd left the family shipping business
in his sister's capable hands and headed south for what he was sure would be
paradise.

Six
weeks later, the sun, sparkling blue water and barely-there bikinis hadn't made
him any happier.

Who
knew what his problem was?  He sure as hell didn't…but he did know he was
losing his touch when it came to reading people.  He studied the hot blonde
again.  How could he have been so wrong about her?  He pulled out his wallet,
not happy that he'd lost more money.

"Guess
you lost your touch, huh?" 

Joe
slapped the fifty on the bar between him and his newfound friend.  "Guess
so, Marcus."  It turned out the young Texan wasn't as dumb as he'd like
people to think.  "Just remember, tonight's your last chance to land the
blonde you've had your eye on, or you'll be giving this back to me."

Marcus
and Joe both glanced at the athletic young blonde with an obvious boob-job who
sat at the other end of the bar doing shots with her friends.  She was drunker
than drunk, had been for the past three nights, and had ignored Marcus each
time he'd tried to snag her attention.  He and Joe had bet on his chances with
her the first night, but she hadn't given Marcus a second glance.  Joe felt
sorry for Marcus and let him up his bet a couple of times.  If his friend
didn't score tonight, Joe had a chance to break even, which was good because he
hated to lose.

Hell.

It
wasn't that he needed the money.  It was more for sport.  That and he also
hated to be wrong.  But he'd been wrong tonight.  He was so sure his classic
blonde would have gone for the rich businessman type—like himself when he
wasn't incognito.

The
unforgettable dress, the updo, diamonds in her ears.  Everything about her
spoke elegance.  What did she want some young punk for?  Joe frowned. 

Restless,
Joe left his barstool and wandered closer to the ill-suited couple.  There were
enough people standing around that he could get within a few feet and not be
noticed.  Perhaps if he watched her longer, he could figure out where he'd gone
wrong in his assessment.

As
Joe neared her, his senses sharpened.  The club was filled with beautiful
women, but she was different.  She looked like she had more…depth to her.     

He
stopped a few paces behind her, catching a whiff of an engaging feminine scent,
instinctively knowing it was hers.

"I'm
here on vacation with a friend," she said.  Joe listened to the woman's
unnecessary chatter.  "We just arrived today."  Definitely nervous,
but charmingly so. 

"Oh,
yeah?" the kid answered.  "Me, too."

Joe
turned enough that he could see the object of her attention.  The punk's gaze was
fixed on the deep valley between her breasts, a predatory look on his dumb
face.  He really wanted to send that kid running home to mama.

Elena
sucked in another breath, trying to still the impulse to bolt.  The
conversation stalled, again, and she didn't know what to say next.  Mercedes
had no clue how hard this could be. 

The
hunk was obviously interested in her.  He couldn't take his eyes off her chest,
and damn it, she had a point to prove.  She was still attractive to men.

Wasn't
she?

The
rebel in her insisted she find out. 

She
tossed her head, and then wished she'd worn her hair down like Mercedes.  It
was time to make a bold move.  She slid her hand up his bicep, feeling the
hardness beneath her palm.  "Do you want to dance?"

His
gaze moved upward, his attention refocusing on her face.  "What?  Dance? 
Yeah."  He grinned.

She
glanced at the dance floor where she could see Mercedes and her man.  They were
so close, their bodies practically one.  She looked back.  Now was her chance.

"Let's
go.  I want to rub my body all over you."  She swallowed her
embarrassment.  That sounded nothing like Mercedes's invitation.

A man behind her choked, sending
heat rushing to her cheeks.  So, she didn't have Mercedes's finesse.  So what?

She turned, ready to tell
whomever it was to mind his business.  Instead, she was shocked into silence
when she realized the stranger with the interesting eyes stood only a few feet
from her, but it looked like he was with another group of people.  Perhaps, she'd
been wrong thinking someone had laughed at
her
.  There were so many
people crammed into one area.  It was probably just her under-confident
imagination.

She
turned back to her quest, trying to pretend the stranger's proximity didn't
make her more nervous. 

Stunned,
she watched as a willowy redhead slipped in the space between her young hunk's
open legs.  The next words died in her mouth.

"How
about a threesome?" he asked, his shoulders moving to the beat.  The
redhead looked Elena over and seemed agreeable to the idea.

Had
she heard him correctly
?  A threesome
?  Elena stood frozen in place,
disbelief slowing her mental process.  "I'm sorry."  She shook her
head.  "I believe I asked just
you
to dance."  Elena glanced
at the redhead to check her reaction.  Nothing.

"Sure." 
He grinned.  "But my girlfriend will get mad if I leave her out, so how
about a threesome?"

Elena
didn't bother replying.  Obviously, the dating game had changed more than she'd
realized during her married years. 

Without
further comment, she turned to leave and found herself face-to-face with the
handsome stranger.  A smile tugged at his mouth.  The nosey bastard
had
overheard her conversation, and now he had the audacity to laugh at her.

She
gave him another quick assessment.  His dark hair grew a little longer than was
fashionable, curling over his ears, but it fit well with the laid-back
atmosphere of the beach resort.  Otherwise, he was clean cut and well-groomed,
respectable with the exception of his rude manners.

Elena
lifted her chin and tried to look down her nose at him like Richard had taught
her, but he was too tall.  Disgusted with everything, she sent him an evil
glare and headed for the door.  Mercedes would have to fend for herself for the
rest of the evening.  She'd had enough.

She
managed to make it halfway to freedom before someone tugged on her arm. 
Turning, she found that the stranger had followed her.  His smile had been
replaced by a serious look. 

"Hey,
wait a minute, will you?"  The volume of his voice competed with the loud
music.

"Why?" 
She turned her frustration on him.  "So that I can provide you with more
entertainment?  I don't think so."  She shook her arm free of his grasp.

"No." 
His smile returned, and she found herself studying his eyes when she should have
been walking away.  She indulged for a moment, staring into the deep, dark
depths that were highlighted by slanting eyebrows.  His eyes were capable of
capturing a woman's soul…and had probably done so several times.  "I
wasn't laughing at you.  I was laughing at that jackass who didn't have enough
brains to hold on to a beautiful woman when he had the chance."

That
stopped her. 

Smooth. 
Much smoother than her pickup line.  More than likely he was also what her
eighteen-year-old daughter would term a player, but Elena certainly didn't mind
being called beautiful.   

He
grinned as though he sensed she was on the verge of acquiescence.  He was
definitely seductive, and he fit the image of who she'd thought she'd like to
meet in Cabo. 

But
she wasn't biting, yet.  "I suppose it doesn't matter who you laughed
at."  She gave him a nonchalant shrug.  "I was ready to call it an
evening, anyway."

"That's
too bad."  He tilted his head to one side, giving her a dangerously
charming smile, the creases in his cheeks deepening.  "Is there a chance I
can convince you to stick around for a while?  Buy you a drink?  I promise I'll
show you a much better time than that punk-kid ever could."

Hmm…maybe
she'd stay.  Maybe not.  She could see through his charming façade, but found
him intriguing despite the fact.  The defiant part of her wanted to say yes,
but this seemed a little more dangerous than flirting with someone ten years
younger than she was.  The sane, rational part of her urged her to call it a
night.  Really, she should have stayed home in the first place, back in Carmel
where she could take care of her shop.  Things there were safe, predictable,
controlled. 

And
boring.

She
swallowed.  Her rebellious side struggled to win the battle.

The
man captured her with his compelling gaze.  "Come on.  Don't let that jerk
ruin your evening.  One dance?  And if you still want to leave afterward, I'll
get you safely back to your hotel."  He took her hand and nodded toward
the dance floor. 

The
rebel won.  "I suppose one dance wouldn't hurt."  Besides, she was
curious to see if his dance moves were as smooth as his pick-up lines.

His
hand was warm, masculine, and tightly clasped around hers as he led her to the
dance floor.  It had been a long time since she'd indulged in the attributes of
the opposite sex.  She'd forgotten the delicious sensations that came along
with touching someone she was attracted to.

He
found a spot in the middle of the dance floor and turned to her with a
mischievous grin.  "Can you salsa?"

Elena
arched an eyebrow, impressed.  A song heavy with congas and claves vibrated the
air, and she returned his smile.  Oh, yes.  She could salsa.  "On
one?"

He
seemed pleased with her answer.  "On one."  He slipped his arm around
her waist as she put her hand on his chest, and they began to move to the beat.

Backward
and forward, it was a fast-paced dance, one that required her to keep her
concentration.  She'd let Mercedes teach her how to salsa, several years back,
right after her divorce, and Mercedes had said she was a natural.  It was one
of her fondest memories during that difficult period. 

It
seemed Mr. Dark and Dangerous knew exactly what to do with his feet.  Not to
mention his body.  No beginner moves for this guy, Elena thought with a smile
as she tried to catch her breath.  "You're good."