seen and know whether or not it was the one. But there were so many of them and she had no way to narrow down her search. Not to mention that once she had searched the rooms inside, she had to cover all of the bungalows reserved exclusively for couples, the common areas and the restricted spaces.
She hadn’t gotten into nearly enough rooms today. And to make matters worse, she had no doubt that Zane had been telling the truth and would be watching her every move now.
Elle sighed, mentally rearranging her schedule in her head. She had a couple of commissioned paintings she should be working on, but both clients could be put off for a little while. An Atlanta gallery had expressed interest in a showing. But that was months away. Really, there were worse places on the planet to be stuck than an exotic Caribbean island.
The place was stunning. And her upgraded room had a killer view.
Unfortunately, it didn’t contain her grandmother’s painting, either. That would have made her life too easy.
Flopping back onto the bed, she let her body sink into the luxurious comforter. She stared up at the beautiful crown molding that ringed the ceiling and, for the first time, admitted she hadn’t exactly planned. She could hear her dad’s voice in her head now. “You went off half-cocked again, didn’t you, girl?” Even in her own brain, the stern voice couldn’t disguise the indulgent humor beneath.
So, she was guilty of rushing into things, of responding passionately to a situation before she’d fully thought out the consequences. There were certainly worse ways to interact with the world. She could have a stick up her ass like Officer Zane. She’d bet he thought out every angle for absolutely every decision before he took a single step.
Mind-blowing.
A vision of him standing over her flitted through her mind. Unwanted warmth snaked through her body to pool between her thighs. So he was…ruggedly handsome. That didn’t give him the right to push her around the way he had. Well, okay, maybe he did have the right, but she wasn’t about to admit that out loud. She forced the image of his towering body and tight jaw out of her mind. She didn’t have time to indulge in pointless yearnings.
What she needed was a plan.
And in the absence of one, a margarita. Or five. The answer would come to her. It always did.
“YOU SHOULD TAKE A break.”
“No.” Zane didn’t even bother turning around to look at Marcy. His eyes were glued to the screen in front of him and the woman who currently filled it.
She’d been sitting at the bar for the past two hours. Alone. Sipping on several frothy drinks and ignoring the several men who had tried to pick her up.
“She isn’t going anywhere, Zane. The last ferry has run for the day.”
“I promised I’d be watching her and I intend to do just that.”
“Who’d you promise? We both know Simon didn’t ask you to do this. Leave the poor woman alone.”
Poor woman, his left nut. The screen might have washed everything to varying shades of gray and white, but his mind remembered the vivid color of her hair and the unsettling combination of her gray eyes. They were so pale. So piercing. And they hid a secret he was determined to figure out.
“Don’t make me put you on administrative leave for the next forty-eight hours.”
His head whipped around to look at the compact fireball of a woman standing behind him. No doubt about it, Marcy was small but she packed a hell of a punch. And they both knew she didn’t bluff worth a damn. If she said it, she meant it.
Zane thought about threatening her with Simon, but decided not to. Technically Simon might own the place, but everyone knew that Marcy ran it. He had no desire to get on her bad side by throwing his friendship with their boss in her face. Besides, he wasn’t entirely certain that Simon would choose him over Marcy. After all, he could find another head of security tomorrow, but Marcy…she’d be damn hard to replace.
He was curious, though. “Why would you do that?”
“So that my week doesn’t go to hell because you’re bored and can’t admit that you miss your old life.”
“I do not miss my old life.” Rather, there were things about his old life that he didn’t miss, such as seeing murdered bodies or chasing terrorists and drug dealers and rapists. And knowing that for every bad guy they caught, another was ready to step up and take his place.
The guilt of knowing he’d failed Felicity, his fiancée, had been the last straw. Her death was entirely his fault and there was nothing he could do to change it.
“It does not escape my notice that you didn’t protest being bored. I’m sending Tom in here in five minutes. If I don’t see you walking through this doorway, heading to your own cottage five minutes after that, then consider yourself benched.”
Zane fought the urge to grumble as Marcy disappeared and he waited for Tom to arrive. Now that he’d been booted, he could admit that his eyes were starting to sting from watching the grainy screen for hours.
He scanned all six of the monitors, taking in the normal vista of swaying palm trees, necking couples, and water lapping against sand. Until his gaze returned to the picture of Giselle Monroe. As he watched, yet another guy drunk with rum-soaked bravado sat on the bar stool beside her. Zane could see the man’s mouth moving.
Giselle flicked her gaze to the guy for no more than half a breath before dismissing him again. She didn’t even bother wasting words, simply shook her head in response to whatever the young buck had asked her.
Zane almost felt sorry for the guy as he stood from the bar and walked back to the cluster of his friends, to be razed for the rest of the night, Zane had no doubt.
She’d been doing that all evening. What kind of woman came to a singles resort specifically designed to facilitate vacation flings and then turned down every man who made a pass at her?
One who wasn’t here for a hookup, obviously. So what was she here for? The question he desperately wanted an answer to burned inside his chest.
The lock clicked behind him, signaling that Tom had arrived to relieve him from the Nest.
Zane quickly made a decision. What could it hurt if he stopped at the bar himself just to check on things? After all, it was his job to make sure all ran smoothly.
DAMN, SHE WAS TIRED OF fending off drunk men. If one more guy came up to her with some lame pickup line and an offer to “fulfill all her fantasies” she was going to knock someone’s block off.
All around her, desperate women in skintight clothing, inch-thick makeup and sky-high heels giggled and hair tossed. Pathetic.
She could feel the presence of another male as he slid onto the empty stool beside her. It had been vacant most of the night. And that’s how she preferred it.
Without turning around, she said, “Don’t bother. I’m not interested. Try the blonde at the other end of the bar.”
That one was definitely looking for a quick lay…probably with more than one man. Possibly at one time.
“Does that mean
