Temptation Island (5 page)

The band played on through their first set, a mixture of songs by local legends and well-known ones alike.  Marek felt his balance slowly return sometime during the evening, even as the awareness of her never subsided.  He felt every look she sent him like a physical caress.  As the night wore on Marek embraced the rush and waited impatiently for a chance to speak with her.

His chance finally came at the end of the set.  The band wrapped the night up with a slow ballad that jammed the dance floor with old couples and new lovers.  As they crooned into the microphones about good, good lovin’, Marek felt anticipation tingle along his skin.

Magic floated on the air tonight and Marek intended to take full advantage of it.  The moon outside hung full and round in the night sky and stars twinkled like glitter.  Marek sensed the magic—and the power of the island—and knew tonight it was for lovers, new and old.

With that knowledge in mind, and the rush of heat in his blood, Marek stepped down off the stage and walked purposefully toward the blond.  He watched as her big blue eyes grew even wider in her soft round face and her hands gripped her drink for dear life.  So tuned in was Marek to her every movement he almost felt the rapid rise and fall of her chest and her speeding pulse.

Riding on the wave of some intangible force, eyes locked to hers, Marek reached her side.  Forcing her to tip her head back to maintain eye contact as he neared, Marek slowly leaned down. 

Drawn by an irresistible need, Marek lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her softly.  Electricity shot through him down to his toes, speeding his already rapid heartbeat and pumping his veins with liquid gold.   The feel of her lips warm on his sent shivers down his spine.

Reluctantly Marek broke the kiss and pulled back.  Masculine satisfaction filled him as he watched her fingers touch her lips and her eyes slowly flutter open.  Marek gave himself a mental high five for placing that dazed look in her eyes. 

Marek waited until her beautiful blue eyes focused on him.  Then he smiled, slow and sexy.  “Hi.”

She swallowed a few times and found her voice, “Hi.”

Staring up at him, she whispered, “Why did you just do that?”

Marek reached for a chair and lowered himself down to face her.  Enjoying himself immensely and his obvious reaction to her, Marek relaxed and slung an arm over the back of his chair.  “Nice to meet you, too. And I don’t need a reason to do what I want,
cheri
.  My island, my rules.”

She frowned a bit at that and asked, “But, who are you? I prefer to know the name of the men I kiss.”

“Ah,” Marek dipped his head in concession. “I’m Marek and if you must know I kissed you because I wanted to and couldn’t resist.  Nothing more, nothing less. What is your name,
cheri
and what brings you to Tortola?”

The waitress arrived and placed two cobalt blue glasses on the table.  Both Marek and Carm looked up at Dara in question but only Marek spoke.  “What’s this Dara?”

Nodding her head in the general direction of the thick crowd Dara replied, “A gift for you and da lady.  Someone thought you two needed a drink.  Good job up der tonight Marek.  You boys sure do look fine singin’ dem songs.  Enjoy da drinks now.”

Dara left them alone again and Marek turned his attention back to Carmen and studied her.  Up close she was even more alluring.  Pale blond hair shimmered under the lights, falling loose to her shoulders.  The all-one-length of the cut flirted with the curve of her neck and looked so soft.  He wanted to run his fingers through it to discover just how soft it was.

She possessed a smooth, flawless complexion with the merest scattering of freckles across her small nose. Up close her eyes were rich and bright blue, not the dark blue he had first thought.  Her lips were soft rose, plump and devoid of makeup.  They were perfect.

Marek let his eyes slowly travel over her as she stared silently at him.  Down his gaze went, over her slim, graceful neck and down over her bare, tan shoulders.  Stopping briefly at the swell of her impressive cleavage, Marek silently applauded his approval and let his gaze lower further.

“It’s Carmen. I saw you earlier today.”

Marek dragged his eyes back to Carmen’s face and asked, “I’m sorry, Carmen.  I didn’t catch that.  What did you say?”  Smiling at her in apology, Marek lifted his hand and ran a finger around the rim of his drink.

Carmen hesitantly returned his smile with a stunning and sweet one of her own and replied, “It’s just Carm.  Since you’ve kissed me there’s no reason for formality, is there?  Anyway, I saw you today after I arrived at the inn I’m staying at.  You were outside sitting in the hammock talking to a rather rotund cat.”

Marek laugh softly and shook his head.  He’d always had a soft spot for animals—cats in particular.  “Ah, so you are staying at the Green Island Inn,
oui
?  Where did you see me from?”

A blush quickly tinted her cheeks and Carm broke eye contact.  Marek found himself thoroughly charmed by her.  He waited in silence as she fingered a napkin and began tearing small pieces of the red paper.  Finally she peeked at him out of the corner of her eye.  “I’m staying there for a few days in a room on the second floor.  I saw you out of my window.”

Marek lifted a dark brow.  “Really now?  You were spying on me?  Naughty girl.” 

A spark lit in her bright blue eyes and Carmen sat up straighter in her chair.  Raking her hands through her hair and holding the ends together Carmen sucked in a breath, then let out a laugh.  Marek felt the sound echo inside him, warm and welcome.

“I was going to deny that I spied on you, but I won’t.  You’re right.  I did spy on you.  I enjoyed the view too, so to speak.  What were you doing there?  Do you run the place?”

Marek laughed at her attempt to change the direction of the conversation away from her slightly questionable behavior.  Carmen was turning out to be quite delightful.  Marek found himself wanting desperately to take her home.  To take her back to his place and make love to her for hours, this woman he’d just met. 

A niggling feeling tugged at his conscience warning Marek that he might be getting in over his head and it would be wise to back off.  Never before had he felt such powerful emotions for a woman at first sight.  But no one would accuse Marek of being wise.  Daring, ballsy, anything but wise.  He had no intention of backing off. 

Mentally pushing the annoying voice aside, Marek returned his focus to keeping the night fun and light.  Right now complications were the last thing he needed.  What he wanted was a night of fun and frolic between his sheets.  And tonight Carmen was going to be his playmate. 

Marek rubbed his chin and slid his hand down his throat to the back of his neck. He tipped his head to the side and massaged the tense muscles. He gazed through lazy, hooded eyes as Carmen lifted her straw from her glass, held her finger over the top hole and put the other end in her mouth.  Releasing her finger, Marek watched as she sucked her drink out of the straw, her pink tongue licking the remains of the concoction from the sides.

Arousal shot through him like lightning, bunching his already tight muscles with awareness.  The woman was a sexual goddess.  Her ample curves and sensual movements stirred to life an almost primitive desire in Marek.  A primal need to claim and mate. 

Surprised by the ferocity of his reaction to her, Marek broke his gaze and looked over her shoulder.  Taking deep, calming breaths Marek stared at a mural depicting a sugar cane harvest on the wall behind Carmen and tried to regain his composure. 

Then she spoke, her voice soft and warm.  “I don’t suppose it matters where you work, does it?  I’m feeling quite nice—a little drunk actually—so why don’t you and I take a stroll long the beach and get to know each other better.  Give me a vacation to remember, Marek.”

The way she said his name sent shivers down his spine.  Marek swallowed hard, his throat suddenly parched.  He wanted this woman more than he’d ever wanted any woman in his life. 

And she was offering herself to him.

Marek picked up his glass and held it in front of him.  Looking deep in her gorgeous eyes, Marek spoke low and firm.  “A toast,
oui
?  To a night neither one of us will soon forget.  I can promise you nothing less.”

Carmen raised her glass and added, “To a wild ride.”

Marek smiled at that, heat churning in his gut at her highly suggestive words.  “I’ll second that.  Bottoms up,
cheri
.”

Smiling at each other as they clinked glasses, Marek lifted the glass to his lips and took a long, refreshing drink.  Marek downed half the glass before awareness set in. Setting down his glass with a thud, Marek glanced with apprehension at Carm.  She’d taken a healthy drink as well and was licking the small mustache off of her top lip.

Marek looked around but couldn’t find their waitress.  Swearing softly, he grabbed his glass again and examined the contents.

Carmen leaned forward in concern and asked, “What’s wrong, Marek?  Is your drink all right?  Does it taste bad?”

Still frowning over his glass, Marek muttered, “This drink tasted a bit off.  Did yours?”

Carmen shook her head, worry filling her eyes.  “No, I don’t think so.  Why, what could be wrong?”

Setting down the glass again, Marek turned his head to look at Carm.  “It’s nothing that I haven’t experienced before, if it is what I think it is.”

Carmen reached over and gripped his tanned hand with her small one.  “Marek, what is it?  Tell me.  Are we in trouble?”

Marek chuckled, “Depends on your definition of trouble. I think we’ve been slipped some mushrooms in our drink, Carm.  If so, then you’ll definitely get your vacation to remember.”

“Mushrooms?  Do you mean
magic mushrooms
?”

Marek stared Carmen in the eye and watched it hit her.  Watched as her eyes went wide and she leaned back in her chair.

Waving her hand back and forth in front of her face, Carmen glanced past it to Marek and whispered accusingly, “I knew you were trouble.”

CHAPTER FOUR

Sharp, prickling pains danced against the back of her eyelids as Carmen painstakingly opened her eyes.  A greasy wave of nausea hit her as she tried to focus.  A groan escaped as the pounding in her head became more pronounced with the effort.  Little drummer boys were steadily beating a rat-a-tat-tat on their drums somewhere behind her temples. 

Carmen felt like shit.

Inhaling a cautious breath, Carm gazed at the tin ceiling of her hotel room and did a mental take of her body.  Her mouth had been stuffed full of wool and her tongue felt two sizes too big. And she wished someone would chop her head off just to stop the agony.

What the hell happened last night?

Gently placing her hands on her throbbing temples, Carm tried to swallow around the Brillo pad stuck in her throat.  Gingerly stretching her long legs, Carm bit back another moan as the movement brought to light aches in her body she didn’t know she had. 

She tried to remember the events of the previous night but couldn’t think around the pain in her abused head.  Boy, she must have really tied one on last night.

Apparently you had a little too much fun, Carm my girl.

Unsure if it had been worth it—evil little leprechauns were busy doing an Irish jig in her head—Carm stretched her bare arms up in the air.  Slowly taking another deep breath, mindful of her iffy stomach, Carm absurdly felt like laughing.  And she would have laughed if her head wasn’t about to roll off her shoulders.

She hadn’t been this hung over since her college days.  Maybe not even then.  The way she currently felt brought new meaning to the term
shit on a shingle.

Now if she could only remember what had gone on she’d be thrilled.  As her sensitive eyes adjusted to the bright light streaming in through the open window Carm gazed up at her hands. 

“What the--?”

Too concerned with what was on her hand to worry about the fact her raw throat felt like minced meat, Carm brought her left hand down for closer inspection. At the same time something else occurred to her.

She was naked as a jay.

Carm never—ok, rarely—slept naked.  But that wasn’t really the part that had her worried.  Bringing her hand within a few inches of her face, Carm squinted her eyes and stared.

No, it couldn’t be, could it?

Shiny as a new penny and perched on her left-hand ring finger sat a dainty oyster shell ring.  The sunlight brought out the blues, greens, and pinks of the shell as Carm turned her hand this way and that. 

She’d had one of those rings when she was a kid and her parents had taken her and Kate to the Oregon coast.  She and Kate had begged their dad to let them buy them and had sported matching ones the entire weekend.  Carm remembered the rings had cost her dad the grand total of less than fifteen bucks.  But they’d been darned nifty to ten and twelve year olds.

What the heck was she doing wearing one now?  On her ring finger, no less.  Not something a girl especially wanted to wake up and find herself sporting after a night of hard drinking.