he’d ever possessed had been ground out of him years ago.
But the woman couldn’t have looked more out of place in the seedy tavern if she’d worn feathers and a top hat. Her white dress had straps instead of sleeves with a row of black buttons marching down its front. Giving a quick look around at his neighbors, Jones was certain that he wasn’t the only one wondering what he’d find beneath if he unfastened them one by one. Which is why, when she left her table and came to stand before his, he kept his attention trained on the bottle in his hand.
“I just wanted to tell you that my offer still stands, if you should change your mind.”
Her words abruptly yanked him back to the reason for his presence here tonight, and the memory still had a bite. Deliberately he let out a long, satisfying belch and scratched his jaw. “And what offer might that be?”
Her expression left no doubt about her reaction to his behavior. That dainty little nose of hers wrinkled up, and she looked at him as if he’d just crawled out from beneath a rock. “The charter.”
He blinked for a moment, a thought forming, too nebulous to register immediately. And then it bloomed, fertilized by distrust. “It was you, wasn’t it?” That innocent look on her face only cemented his suspicion. “You screwed up tomorrow’s charter for me.”
Her chin angled, and she met him glare for glare. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Alcohol hadn’t totally fogged his senses. He was on to something, and he knew it. Straightening in his chair, an act that seemed to require more agility than usual, he fixed her with a jaundiced eye. “My fishing party canceled tonight. Went with someone else. And then you just happened to show up here, after being quite persistent earlier today, and offer again to hire me. Kind of a coincidence, wouldn’t you say? I’ve never cared much for coincidences.”
“Well, let me just make a note of that.” With a dramatic flourish she pulled a small black leather notebook from her purse, dug for a pen and opened the pad to a blank page. “Not only does Mr. Jones not…like…trouble—” she spoke the words as she jotted them down “—he doesn’t…care…for coincidences.” When she caught the tip of her tongue between her perfectly even teeth, she gave the impression of a woman diligently documenting research for future use.
She also gave a damn good impression of a smart-ass. He scowled. “I told you before…”
Without glancing up, she completed his sentence for him. “Not ‘mister.’ Just Jones. Gotcha. And while I’m at it, I’m just gonna make a note of that, too.”
Because it seemed more judicious than strangling her, he lifted his beer to his lips and drained it.
With an audible click, she replaced the cap on her pen and gave him a careless smile. “I can’t guess why your group canceled—” she gave his empty bottle a meaningful glance “—but since you still aren’t interested I’ll ask around tomorrow for another service.”
He let her get about four feet away before financial reality took precedence over gut instinct. “I didn’t say I wasn’t interested.”
She looked over her shoulder, and he definitely didn’t trust that glint in her eye. “You’ve changed your mind?”
Not really. Not at all. He wasn’t convinced she’d had nothing to do with him losing that fishing group, but try as he might, he couldn’t figure a reason for her scuttling his schedule. Maybe the alcohol was fogging his normal common sense, but what was clear in his mind was the looming payment due on his ship. “Exactly what is it that you have planned? I can’t see you as the deep-sea fishing type.”
“Actually, I was just looking for a relaxing way to spend a few days traveling around the local islands, soaking up some sun. I’ve been under a lot of stress lately, and I thought a little island hopping might be a great way to unwind.”
He rolled his eyes, uncaring that she would see the gesture. Yeah, she looked like she knew a lot about stress, all right. The kind that came from not finding the right shade of fingernail polish or maybe not getting a date with the captain of the football team. He’d bet a dollar she’d been a cheerleader. There was just something so damn…perky about her.
The last inner warning voice was silenced. The woman was probably just a flit-headed college girl with easy access to her daddy’s money. And with the notable exception of her very excellent ass, she was exactly like dozens of other women who found their way down here looking for a cure to their boredom.
His decision made, he said, “There are tons of islands around here, most too small to be inhabited, but if you’re looking for little-known beaches, I can show you a few really great ones that haven’t been discovered yet.”
“That sounds like exactly what I have in mind.” She shot him a dazzling smile. “I’m supposed to meet a couple friends the day after tomorrow on Laconos. We can go there first.”
“Laconos?” He looked toward the bar, noticed the dark look Lexie was regarding him with. As long as he had the woman’s attention, he lifted his empty bottle toward her in a silent request for another, before shifting his attention back to his potential client. “I’m not sure that’s such a great idea. The government hasn’t been exactly stable there.”
She waved away his concern. “That trouble six months ago? They’ve got a new government in place now, don’t they? As a matter of fact, I heard it’s jockeying for position in the Global Trade Organization. Sounds pretty stable to me.”
Her knowledge of the island’s recent history surprised him. Maybe she wasn’t as empty-headed as he’d thought. With a mental shrug, he dropped the argument. The ports were open at Laconos, and their beaches were remarkable enough to impress Ms. Smith. No doubt, once she’d roamed them for a day or so her attention would shift elsewhere. “Just how long a trip did you have in mind?”
Her voice was vague. “Oh, I don’t know. Four or five days. Can we leave it open-ended?”
Open-ended. Sweet Jesus. Jones picked up the beer that Lexie slammed down in front of him, ran a discreet hand along her bare thigh and squeezed lightly. The waitress’s expression lightened a bit, fortunately. Despite their casual relationship, she had a jealous streak that required careful handling.
Wrapping her arms around his neck from behind him, she leaned so her breasts pressed against his nape and murmured in his ear, “Thirty minutes, lover.” Then she swayed back to the bar.
At the fascinated expression on Ms. Smith’s face, Jones felt an unfamiliar thread of embarrassment. Lexie wasn’t exactly the subtle type. He cleared his throat. “So. About the length of the trip… I’m gonna need a firm commitment on the minimum number of days, paid in advance. Then if you decide to extend it, the rest can be payable upon return.”
“Fair enough. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow morning to have the money wired. I assume you have an account here on the island?”
There was the barest gap discernible between the top two buttons on her dress, giving him a glimpse of a lacy pink bra, sheer enough to reveal the creamy skin it encased. With effort he pulled his gaze away from the sight and focused on her face. “You don’t have to wire the money. I’ll take a personal check, verified by a phone call to your bank.”
“I prefer to have it wired. I didn’t bring a checkbook, in case my purse got snatched.”
He
