He was curious. Ethan didn’t entirely blame him. The island was not sold on its monastic qualities. The women here were, in the main, beautiful people and a lot of them had made it clear that they were available for a little holiday romance.
But Ethan was off romance, off women, and most definitely off sex—or at least he was in training to be off it, he amended, all too aware that his body was trying to tempt him with every inviting smile that came his way.
Then there was that other sexual temptation, the one that hit him hard in his nether regions every time he looked at Eve Herakleides and recalled an incident when she’d walked into his room to find him standing there naked. She’d looked—no stared—and things had happened to him that he hadn’t experienced since he’d been a hormone-racked teenager. What was worse than the reaction was knowing she’d witnessed it.
So why his eyes had to pick that precise moment to glance in the mirror was something he preferred not to analyse. She was dancing with Aidan Galloway, and the body language was nothing like what it had been when she’d danced with the other men. No, this was tense, it was serious. It reminded him of that kiss he had witnessed in her grandfather’s garden in Athens. The two of them had been so engrossed in each other that they hadn’t heard his arrival—nor had they known they’d also been watched by Aidan’s fiancée, who’d almost fainted into the arms of another young Galloway.
Eve was a flirt and a troublemaker, a woman with no scruples when it came to other women’s men. Her only mission in life was to slay all with those big green you-can-have-me eyes.
Ethan loved those eyes…
The unexpected thought jolted him, snapped his gaze down from the mirror to his glass. What the hell is the matter with you? he asked himself furiously. Too much sun? Too much time on your hands? Maybe it was time he got back into a suit and unearthed a mobile telephone.
‘And you?’ He diverted his attention back to Jack Banning. ‘Do you sip the honey on a regular basis here?’
Jack gave a rueful shake of his head. ‘The boss would have my balls for trophies if I imbibed,’ he murmured candidly. ‘No…’ picking up his glass he tasted the rum ‘…I have this lovely widow living on the next island who keeps me sane in that department.’
With no ties, and no commitment expected or desired, Ethan concluded from that, knowing the kind of woman Jack was talking about because he’d enjoyed a few of them himself in his time.
‘She’s a good woman,’ Jack added as if he needed to make that point.
‘I don’t doubt it,’ Ethan replied, and he didn’t. In the time he had been here, he had got to know and like Jack Banning. Being in the leisure business himself—though in a different area—he wasn’t surprised that André Visconte had a man like Jack in place. In fact he was considering doing a bit of head-hunting because they could do with Jack running the new resort his company was in the process of constructing in Spain.
Though that idea was shot to pieces when Jack spoke again. ‘Her husband was caught out at sea in a hurricane four years ago,’ he said quietly. ‘He left her well shod but heavily pregnant. Left her with a badly broken heart too.’
Which told Ethan that Jack was in love with the widow. Which in turn meant there was no hope of getting him to leave for pastures new.
‘So what’s your excuse for the self-imposed celibacy?’ Jack asked curiously.
Same as you, Ethan thought grimly. I fell for a married woman—only her husband is very much alive and kicking. ‘Too much of a good thing is reputed to be bad for you,’ was what he offered as a dry reply.
Glancing at him, he saw Jack’s gaze touch that part of Ethan’s jaw where the bruising had been obvious a few days ago. He had been forced to wear the mark like a banner when he’d first arrived on the island. Speculation as to how he’d received the bruise had been rife. His refusal to discuss it had only helped to fire people’s imagination.
But the expression in Jack’s eyes told him that Jack had drawn a pretty accurate conclusion. He sighed, so did Jack. Both men lifted their glass to their mouths and said no more. It had been that kind of conversation: some things had been said, others not, but all had been taken on board nonetheless. Turning on his stool, Jack offered the busy bar room a once-over with his lazy-yet-shrewd manager’s eye, while Ethan studied the contents of his glass with a slightly bitter gaze. He was thinking of a woman with dark red hair, silk-white skin and a broken heart that was in the process of being mended by the wrong man, as far as he was concerned.
But the right man for her, he had to add honestly, felt the tiger stir within and wished he knew of a good cure for unrequited love.
‘Try the sex,’ Jack said suddenly as if he could read his mind. ‘It has to be a better option than lusting after the unattainable.’
Unable to restrain it, Ethan released a hard laugh. ‘Is that advice for me or for yourself?’
‘You,’ Jack answered. Then he grimaced as he added, ‘Mine is a hopeless case. You see, the widow’s son calls me Daddy.’ With that he got up and gave Ethan’s shoulder a man-to-man, sympathetic pat. ‘Let me know about the Marlin trip,’ he said and strolled away.
Turning to watch him go, Ethan saw Jack stop once or twice to chat to people on his way out of the bar. One woman in particular came to meet him. It was Eve the temptress. A quick look around and he found Aidan Galloway standing at the other end of the bar. He was ordering a drink and he didn’t look happy. Join the club, Ethan thought, as his eyes then picked out Raoul Delacroix who was watching Eve with an expression on his face that matched Aidan Galloway’s.
As for Eve, her long slender arms were around Jack’s neck and she was pouting up at him in a demand for a kiss. Amiably Jack gave it and smiled at whatever it was she was saying to him. Without much tempting she managed to urge the manager into motion to the music, his big hands spanning her tiny waist, his dark head dipped to maintain eye contact. Like that, they teased each other as they swayed.
Suddenly Ethan knew it was time to leave. Downing the rest of his drink, he came to his feet, placed some money on the bar and wished the girl behind it a light farewell. As he walked towards the dancers he thought he saw Eve move that extra inch closer to Jack’s impressive body.
Done for his benefit? he asked himself, then shot that idea in the foot with a silent huff of scorn to remind himself that Eve Herakleides disliked him as much as he disliked her.
Outside the air was like warm damp silk against his skin. The humidity was high, and looking out to sea Ethan could see clouds gathering on the horizon aiming to spoil the imminent sunset. There could be a storm tonight, he predicted as he turned in the direction of his beach house. Behind him the sound of a woman’s laughter came drifting towards him from inside the bar. Without thinking he suddenly changed direction and his feet were kicking hot sand as he ran toward the water and made a clean racing dive into its cool clear depths.
‘Don’t even think about it,’ Jack cautioned. ‘He’s too old and too dangerous for a sweet little flirt like you.’
Dragging her eyes away from the sight of Ethan Hayes in full sprint as he headed for the ocean, Eve looked into Jack Banning’s knowing gaze—and mentally ran for cover. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ she said.
Jack didn’t believe her. ‘Ethan Hayes could eat you for a snack without touching his appetite,’ he informed her without a hint of mockery to make the bitter pill of truth an easier one to swallow.
‘Like you, you mean,’ she said with a kissable pout, which was really another duck-and-run. ‘Big bad Jack,’ she murmured as she moved in closer then began swaying so provocatively that he had to physically restrain her.
He