It felt so good to drift…so damn decadent to offer herself to the slanting afternoon sun as though she didn’t care if a small plane or another yacht might come within range. As her thoughts wandered, she heard the love play of that feisty couple on the deck in a foreign language an adult of any nationality would recognize.
Cat shut them out, awash in the fine sensations of the Jacuzzi. She turned on her stomach so the water pulsed against her breasts…thinking how positively outrageous that current would feel against her slit. Thinking that the twitch between her legs, brought on by Ramon in all his dark glory—Ramon, who was now buried to the hilt inside lovely Leilani—needed tending. She deserved a little mind-bending pleasure of her own, didn’t she?
Her vibrations shifted subtly as her feet found the floor. Cat crouched with her elbows on the rim of the tub so she could maneuver herself up and down…easing herself into the full force of that pulsing, throbbing water jet.
“Ohhhhhhhhh gawd…oh my gawwwwd,” escaped her as the sensations in her thighs gave fair warning of what her clit might expect. Before she lost her nerve, Cat slid sideways and opened herself—
And froze with her eyes clenched shut and her mouth open in a silent scream of ecstasy. A little gyrating to ease the force of that water had her convulsing without a shred of decency or self-control. On and on the sensations rocked her until she wondered if a climax could get so intense she’d pass out from it.
When she’d tested that thought as far as she dared, Cat sprawled on the rim of the tub. Had Ramon started the engine again? A subdued thrum told her she’d better get her rag-doll body inside before her caretakers found her this way and—once again—knew what she’d been doing.
The noise became a louder, more insistent racket. Just as she stood up, with water running down the length of her bare body, a small water plane swooped down for a closer look.
She groaned. The two occupants of the plane waved at her—or maybe at Ramon and Leilani because they knew them? Out of sheer desperation, and the need to appear as bold as the rest of these islanders—she waved back! Timidly at first, but then she gave those guys a big grin and waved both arms, swaying as though her Inner Kid was an exhibitionist rather than an introvert.
What’ll you do if the plane lands and those two fly boys wanna come aboard, missy?
I haven’t a clue, she replied silently. But I’d at least have someone to talk to, right?
Once the plane turned around and regained altitude, however, she chuckled. Wait till she told Grant and Trevor and Bruce about this! No point in playing the shrinking violet if her domestics were doing the deed right there on the sundeck. And, yes…they were still moaning. Then came the firm slap of a hand on a backside, followed by an outcry that sounded blatantly turned on.
While she secretly envied their freewheeling, free-loving ways, it was clear Leilani and Ramon had eyes only for each other. She might someday accept their invitation to play, but it wouldn’t be for keeps.
Cat went to the railing then, to gaze out over the blue-green of the sea as sun diamonds danced on its surface. Solid and satisfied she felt—and wasn’t that an improvement, considering her ordeal after Laird’s death?
But she was, for all practical purposes, alone. She’d bought an island and this yacht and the mansion and the caretakers that came with it today, but how long could she wander through this wonderland all by her lonesome?
Maybe the Contessa left for that very reason. Found somebody to play with and never looked back.
So while she remained naked for the rest of the ride home, and strode boldly across the dock carrying her new clothes rather than wearing any, Cat no longer thought how horrible it would be if someone saw her this way.
She just wanted somebody to see. Somebody who’d entice her Inner Kid out to play and chase away the ghosts of a financial disaster. Somebody who wouldn’t want her for her money. Somebody who’d teach her how to live uninhibited, without fears or boundaries or following someone else’s rules.
She let her shopping bags hit the bedroom floor and then opened her laptop. When she’d first seen the links to personal ads on the Escape Artist website, advertising for sex and friendship seemed outlandish and, well—dangerous. Colossal lies abounded on the Internet, spawned by guys who listed various versions of themselves in matchmaking services when they were already married. Maybe to more than one woman.
She didn’t need that! Didn’t want a man who faked his way past all the security measures and submitted a photo of his best-looking friend. But how would she know who she might meet until she tried? It was for damn sure she wasn’t going to find anybody here on this little paradise called Porto Di Angelo, no matter how much she loved her new home.
Cat glanced at the ads and let her mind play…tapped a few lines into the blank ad form and then deleted them. Created an alias address—just in case anybody responded—and then forged full speed ahead through her ad, modesty and caution be damned!
Heart pounding, Cat read through the lines again to check for errors. Then, before she lost her nerve, she hit SEND.
6
RUhot4it?
Got the villa on the private island, the 100’ yacht, offshore accounts out the wazoo, but nobody to play with? Me, too! Your privacy and pleasure are my top priorities! [email protected] for pix, details.
Jack Spankevopoulos rubbed his eyes to reread the ad. It had jumped out at him with a power all its own—an energy that zinged through his system, even though it was four in the morning and he was dog tired from last night’s madness. Here in his crow’s-nest office, high above the decks of the Captive Fantasy, all was finally quiet after three female passengers got too drunk and too mouthy. He’d nearly had a mutiny! Even though it was his damn ship!
He blamed it on the full moon, still riding high, just as he blamed his restlessness on that fickle princess of the night. All the nut cases signed on around this time of the month. Should he call a halt to these pirate abduction vacations? A man could only stand so much. A captain shouldn’t have to endure such foul language and manners, not to mention the stench that lingered on the decks after his passengers yarked up their rum punch. Then they blamed him that they weren’t having a good time!
But this Cat woman must be a breed apart, to flaunt her financial status and still be looking for a man. Or was she just butt ugly? And where in the world was she? Those who knew about the Escape Artist sites might hail from anywhere—and then relocate to somewhere else very quickly, depending on who they were hiding from and why. Jack clicked her URL to take a look at her.
“Sweeeeet baby,” he breathed, stunned by her windblown blond hair and arched eyebrows and that soft, sexy smile. “If this is really you, dear lady, it’s time Captain Jack jumped ship. I could vacation in the paradise of your sea-green eyes for a loooooong time.”
He clicked the e-mail link and then realized he needed a response as alluring as her come-on. No doubt he’d land in her box—and wasn’t that a titillating thought!?—with hundreds of other famished men looking to ravish a tidbit like this one.
As Jack pondered potential witticisms, a techno-tinny version of “Sixteen Men on a Dead Man’s Chest” made him reach for his phone. When he saw the name in the ID window, he set the infernal thing aside. Studied that ad again…your privacy and pleasure are my top priorities!
And when had that ever happened? Certainly not with the whiny-ass bitch who’d