High Stakes Seduction - Book 2 (11 page)
Read High Stakes Seduction - Book 2 Online
Authors: Ami LeCoeur
“A rockslide,” Damian said, pointing out the window.
I followed his finger and gasped as several small stones tumbled onto a pile of much bigger ones above us. As crazy as his driving seemed, Damian had saved us from crashing into the massive rock slide, and had managed to steer us to safety down the side of the mountain.
Carefully, we all climbed out of the bus to discover that we wouldn’t be going anywhere soon. The bus was pretty banged up, the front left wheel sitting almost horizontal.
“Can’t get a signal here,” Damian grumbled, tapping at his radio. He looked at us, frowning. “I need you all to get back on the bus and wait for me. I will find help and come back as quickly as it is possible.”
“What? You can’t just leave us here!” Charlotte cried, her eyes darting around wildly.
I looked up at the sky then down at my watch. It would still be a while before night fell, but there was no telling how long it would take for help to arrive. “We’re going to miss the ship,” I said quietly.
Damian gave us another frown. “Perhaps, but no worries. You will all be well cared for. Now, please climb back into the bus and practice singing the song I taught you. It will take away all your worries. I promise.” He winked and then turned to hike up the hill in search of a signal.
MARIA
Emily slept silently in the seat behind us as Thompson pulled up into my driveway. It had been a long, wonderful day of beautiful flowers and scenery, and delicious food. It was no wonder the little girl had fallen asleep the moment the car started moving. I had to admit, I was pretty beat myself.
“I’ll get your chair,” Thompson said, getting out of the car.
I stifled a yawn as I opened my door waiting for him to wheel my chair around. He helped me in with such gentleness. Normally, I didn’t like people going out of their way to help me. I could do a lot of things on my own and hated having others feel sorry for me or acting like I wasn't able to take care of myself. Angela was pretty good at only doing what was necessary. But for some reason, it felt right to sit back and relax a little and just let this handsome, gentle giant fawn over me.
“Thanks so much, Thompson,” I said, as he maneuvered my chair up the steps. “This was such a lovely day. It’s nice to be able to get out of the house.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it. Perhaps we can do it again sometime soon. You are still planning on the Festival?”
I found my keys and opened the door. “I would really like that.” I turned around and gave him a big smile.
He returned my smile and, after a moment’s hesitation, leaned forward to gently grasp my hand. “I-I should get Emily home,” he said.
I nodded. “Yes. She's lovely, Thompson. Thank you for sharing her with me. I’ll see the two of you again for the Festival.”
I waited until the car pulled away before closing the door, idly placing the hand he'd caressed against my cheek. I turned and rolled into the living room, then glanced up to see my little studio.
It’s late
, I thought, staring at the canvases stacked in the corner. And yet I found myself moving toward them.
I tugged at a sheet, slowly dragging it away to reveal a blank canvas. Nevia’s brushes sat nearby. An image of Emily smiling, chattering on about how she was going to dance among the flowers one day came unbidden to my mind.
Maybe… just maybe it was time to pick up my brushes again?
ANGELA
“A toast to adventure!” Damian had cheered, raising his little plastic cup high in the air. We all followed suit, laughing and downing our glasses from the bottle of rum he’d shared with us while we waited at the top of the road to be picked up.
It had been nerve wracking, sitting on the disabled bus, tilted down a hill in a foreign country, waiting for the driver to return and take us to safety.
We'd killed a bit of time talking about our lives before our little volcano adventure.
"It was hard to wait," Tina had smiled at her husband. "But Greg and I met in high school and once we started dating, there was no one else for me."
"It was harder for you than it was for me," Greg chimed in. "I was stationed in Turkey with a bunch of guys. I had no temptations. Just a lot of time to think about you and our life together once I returned."
"Baby, I was never tempted. You're the only guy for me. But I counted the days!"
"Vanessa and I were friends in college," said Charlotte. "We used to talk about taking a romantic Caribbean cruise."
"Charlotte, honey, I like you very much, and you are my best friend. But I'd always planned on taking a
romantic
cruise—you know, one with
men
."
"Oh, Vanessa! You are such a card! At our age, we'll have to take what we can get." The two burst into giggles. "Not that I see much potential for single men on this trip."
"What about you, Angela. Why is such a lovely young woman like you doing by yourself?" Vanessa turned to me.
Uh-oh. What do I say?
They'd all shared their stories with me. It looked like I would need to spin a tale for my companions, just like I'd been doing for Maria. But, conveniently for me, Damian returned before I had to say much. I sighed with relief—for more reasons than one! My travel companions quickly forgot about me and my story.
Ignoring our bumps and bruises, we tumbled back out of the bus and hiked up the mountainside to wait for help to arrive. Damian brought along a small lantern to keep away the darkness, and we gathered around to share in the bottle of rum he'd pulled out of his backpack.
Bless his heart, he looked on the whole thing as just a lark. The rum definitely helped to take the edge off of our anxiety. In fact, we were in pretty good spirits once the "rescue" bus arrived to take us to the hotel.
True to their word, the tour company put us up back in Castries. Since it would be two days before the ship would dock where we could rejoin them; there was nothing left to do but enjoy ourselves in the five-star hotel.
The cruise ship had been alerted, but I decided to wait before telling Maria. I was safe. Everything was okay. And I certainly didn't want her to worry about me.
The others had gathered for a late dinner, but I opted for a light snack from room service.
“I could get used to this,” I murmured as I poked my toes around in the tingly suds that filled my tub.
A short while later, I was dressed in the white chenille robe provided by the hotel.
I was almost too tired to even think. I knew the ship had been notified, but I still figured I should check in with Antonio. He would be worrying, of course, and I wouldn't wish that on anyone.
I dialed the number, waiting impatiently as it rang in the background. I was surprised and a little disappointed to get voice mail. Well, I decided, if he was off gambling, then he couldn't be that upset.
It crossed my mind that he might still be irritated at me for—for whatever it was I’d seemed to have gotten wrong the previous evening. Thinking about that—trying to get everything straight in my head—just annoyed me so much that I decided not to leave a message. It could wait until morning when I should be feeling more like talking. Then I turned off the phone to conserve batteries.
I pulled up the covers, hiding my head under the sheet. Grateful to be in a quiet room and not having to worry about anyone but myself, I drifted off easily, tired from the hiking, the rum and our island adventure.
***
I opened my eyes, wondering where I was. As I remembered the events from the day before, I reached for my phone and turned it on. Last night, I’d called Antonio, wanting to let him know what happened, but he hadn’t answered. I guessed he’d been too busy gambling as usual. This morning, though, I definitely had to check in with him. When the screen came to life, it buzzed emphatically. Three new texts.
“Are you all right? Where are you?”
read the first message from Antonio. The second was more of the same—as he realized I hadn’t returned to the room at all.
“I’ve been all over the ship,”
it read. I looked at the time: 3:00 a.m.
"Msg rec'd from the captain about your mishap. Are you okay? Worried about you,"
said the third message.
I felt a little guilty, even though it wasn't my fault—but I also felt a little thrill of pleasure. Maybe he did care? I shook my head. I didn’t want to walk down that road. I wasn’t going to let confusing thoughts about Antonio "The Man" Mancini overwhelm my thinking.
“
I’m fine,”
I texted back.
“A little shaken up after a rock slide, but we’re OK. Will see you in Trinidad.”
I turned off the phone again—no sense in wasting a battery when I still had another full day. Then I headed downstairs to meet the others for breakfast.
***
“Angela!” Greg called, waving me over. He and Tina sat on one side of the table opposite Vanessa and Charlotte. Between them were plates of fruit and meats and baked goods, piled high.
My stomach growled a greeting before I could, then I sat down. “Good morning,” I laughed, grabbing a banana and remembering our trip to the plantation the day before.
“Vanessa and I are going shopping to find something clean to wear,” Charlotte told me. "They have some incredible shopping places here. I heard that the vendors have been at the Castries Market for over 100 years. And the Craft Market has local crafts—baskets, wood carvings, pottery and hand-screened clothing. A great chance to pick up a souvenir of our exotic island adventure. Wanna come along?"
“Sure,” I said. I definitely had not enjoyed putting on my grungy shorts and tank top after my luxurious bath the night before. It would be nice to get something fresh to wear. “What about you two?” I asked, turning to Tina and Greg.
Tina grinned, sharing a knowing glance with her husband. “I think we’re going to enjoy our "away time" here at the hotel a little bit more.”
I laughed. “Well, this
is
your honeymoon,” I winked.
Vanessa, Charlotte and I headed out to the shops. I found a beautiful bird sculpture carved out of volcanic rock and decided that would be Maria's special souvenir—even better since it was the same volcano I had visited on the island.
I found myself a new sundress, and wore it out of the store after paying, but as we were leaving, my eye caught a splash of beautiful colors in a wonderful floral pattern. The colors and pattern reminded me of the day Antonio and I had spent at the batik factory on St Kitts, and I felt slightly guilty for enjoying myself here without him. Why was it so difficult for him to let go and relax? I shook my head. Maybe I'd never understand what drove that man.
"Lady, you got some change?" A young boy with gaping grin and dirty face looked up at me hopefully. I dug through my purse, hoping to find something to give him.
"Sorry, not much," I said dropping a quarter and a couple of nickels into his hand. "What's your name?"
"Gordy," he said. "Thank you ma'am." And off he ran to join up with his friends on the corner. I watched them do a little happy dance as they showed each other their spoils. Pretty amazing when thirty-five cents can make someone dance.
It was early afternoon when we got back to the hotel. I checked my phone to find another message from Antonio.
“So glad to know you’re alright. Can't wait to see you, Cara. –A”
“Cara.” I smiled, whispering it out loud. I’d heard him say it to me once in a dream, but to see him actually use the word made me shiver.
I lay back on the bed, feeling suddenly exhausted. I closed my eyes and was asleep before I knew it.
“Cara,” Antonio whispered to me under the starry sky. Behind me, water cascaded from the pristine waterfalls, misting the air. I stood beneath the waters, feeling the coolness tumble over me, feeling the rivulets trickling over my bare breasts. I ran my hands over my skin, tipping my face into the cleansing falls.
“Cara,” Antonio whispered again, and his lips found my throat, drawing a path of gentle kisses along my neck, following the curve of my shoulder. His hands slid over my hips, the cool water splashing around us as he turned me to face him.
He gave me a moment to gaze into his dark, hungry eyes. His tongue slid between his lips and I caught my lip in my teeth.
“Cara,” he murmured once more before leaning in to kiss me, wrapping his arms around my waist, slipping his tongue inside my mouth.
I pressed my body against him, feeling his manhood, rigid and throbbing, press back. I wound my arms around his neck, rising on my toes as he boldly slipped between my thighs. I lowered my hand taking ahold of his thickness. He moaned against my neck, sending ripples of pleasure through me. I held his cock against my warm, wet slit, slowly moving my hips back and forth, thrilling in the feel of him against me. I had been waiting for this, aching for this.