Could she do it? That was what she had to ask herself. She hadn’t to forget that people who played with fire sometimes got burned. But she was over Cole, completely and irrevocably. Her body might still respond to the sexuality of his, but her mind was not involved. And how she chose to behave was no one’s business but her own.
Taking a deep breath, she came to a decision. ‘All right,’ she said, sliding the dark glasses back into place. ‘For old times’ sake. Why not?’
Protected by the glasses, she caught the fleeting trace of surprise that crossed his face at her words. Evidently, he had expected it to be harder to get her to change her mind. None the less, he recovered himself with admirable efficiency, and his lazy smile tugged the corners of his mouth upwards.
‘OK,’ he said, making no objection when she began to gather her belongings together with the obvious intention of leaving. ‘I’ll meet you in the lobby of the hotel at seven o’clock, right?’
‘Right.’
Joanna forced a matching smile. But her expression was distinctly cat-like, as she negligently made her departure.
Joanna decided to skip lunch, and go into town. She had intended to get a snack from the poolside bar, but the prospect that she might run into Cole again before the evening decided her against it.
Besides, she hadn’t been into Nassau since her arrival. The international airport on New Providence was situated at the north-western end of the island, and the Coral Beach Hotel was on the coast that lay between the airport and the town of Nassau. The previous day she had spent recovering from her jet lag, and basking in her new-found freedom. But today she felt too strung-up by the thought of the evening ahead to relax anywhere. She needed action, and distraction, and the chance to spend some of the dollars she had brought with her.
After taking a shower to remove the combined effects of the heat and the protective cream Cole had applied, Joanna dressed in the shorts and soft boots she had worn earlier. But instead of the vest she donned a loose-fitting T-shirt. No point in risking sunburn, she told herself sardonically. Not when she wanted to look her best that evening.
She took a taxi from the hotel into town. The garrulous Bahamian driver dropped her in Bay Street, and she spent a pleasant couple of hours browsing through the shops and the Straw Market. She bought herself a length of vividly patterned cotton, to wear sarong-wise around the pool, and a chunky handful of bracelets, sculpted from shells, that clattered attractively every time she moved her wrist. She also treated herself to a new swimsuit, a bikini this time, patterned with the many exotic flowers of the islands.
Before going back to the hotel, she bought herself a can of Coke, and strolled down to the harbour to drink it. A huge cruise liner was tied up at Prince George’s Wharf, and she sat for a while on the sea-wall, watching the activity around the ship.
Passengers came and went, stores were taken on board, members of the crew took time out to stretch their legs on dry land, and local youths on bicycles milled about the quay. If she had had her sketch pad with her, Joanna knew, she would not have been able to resist trying to capture the scene on paper. There was so much colour and excitement, and when she eventually left the harbour the images were still buzzing inside her head.
Perhaps she ought to buy herself a sketch pad, she thought, strolling up into Rawson Square. She had no doubt she would be able to get what she wanted along Bay Street. Although it wasn’t pretentious, it was one of the most comprehensive shopping streets in the world.
But then she shook her head and hailed a taxi to take her back to the hotel. This was supposed to be a holiday, she chided herself. Just because Cole had come, upsetting her carefully arranged schedule, and reminding her that she had once used her work as a means of escape, was no reason to go rushing for the charcoal. She could handle Cole now. She had proved it earlier. And this evening he would realise she was no longer the vulnerable girl he had married and divorced.
Selecting what to wear that evening was rather more difficult than she had expected. While she wanted to look provocative, she did not want to appear tacky. Sexy clothes were all very well, but it was all too easy to go over the top. Luckily, she had gone shopping before she left England, so her choice was not limited. But whether it should be a mini cocktail dress, or a slinky trouser suit, was not an easy decision to make.
She eventually chose to wear a dress. A silk-satin sheath in shades of green and purple that complimented her dark colouring, and brought out the tawny highlights in her eyes. It was short, barely reaching mid-thigh, and the on-the-shoulder, off-the-shoulder neckline exposed the creamy beauty of her skin. She wore no bra or tights, only a lacy brief, for modesty’s sake. It made her look—interesting, she decided. Thank God the extra inches she had acquired after the divorce, when eating and drinking had seemed her only consolations, had all been coaxed away by careful dieting. These days, the energy she gave to her work burned off any unwanted calories. And attending a weekly work-out class kept her body lean and supple.
She left her dark hair loose, securing it away from her face on one side with combs. Although it was silky straight, it was thick and shining, and swung smoothly against her shoulders. Like the rest of her, it was sleek and healthy, and she spared a moment’s unwilling consideration for the man who’d sent Cole here.
If the thought of how what she was planning to do might affect Sammy-Jean disturbed her, she dismissed it. Sammy-Jean had shown no qualms about seducing her husband, so wouldn’t it be ironic now if she could return the compliment? Not that she wanted Cole back again, she assured herself. But taking him away from Sammy-Jean did have a certain malicious appeal.
She needed very little make-up. Her lashes were naturally dark, and only a little dusky eyeshadow was needed to add mystery to the depths of her eyes. A trace of blusher over her cheekbones gave a little colour to her face, and a shiny amber lip-salve enhanced the sensitive fullness of her mouth.
When she viewed her reflection in the mirror, before going downstairs, she was reasonably content with her appearance. She looked young, and sexy, but tantalisingly remote.
The lobby of the Coral Beach Hotel was an atrium, arching to a high, glass-vaulted ceiling. The several floors of rooms curved round the central area, which served as both reception and shopping mall. Tall plants and flowering shrubs filled every available space, with a stone-carved fountain providing a focal point.
As Joanna came down the staircase from the mezzanine, she could see Cole waiting by the fountain. She had chosen to get out of the lift at the floor above ground level, so that she might observe him before he saw her. It was a careful ploy, born of her desire to control every aspect of the evening they were to spend together. Besides, it gave her the opportunity to compose her entrance. Streaming out of the lift, with a throng of other passengers, right where he was standing, was not what she had in mind.
As she had hoped, he saw her before she reached the bottom of the stairs. His searching gaze alighted on her slender figure, as she negotiated the last three steps, and although she affected not to have seen him she was instantly aware of his sharp reaction. He didn’t come to meet her, but his eyes followed every move she made. Much the way the snake he had tattooed on his shoulder watched its victim, she mused fancifully. But that was not a comparison she wanted to make.
He was wearing a jacket, she noticed, a concession to the fact that it was evening. He certainly didn’t need it, even in the air-conditioned lobby of the hotel. Bahamian nights were deliciously warm and inviting. But the more exclusive restaurants insisted on this small formality, so evidently they were dining somewhere expensive.
And God, didn’t he look good! she acknowledged objectively. So good, in fact, that for a moment she doubted her ability to pull this off. But then the reluctant admiration she saw in his eyes restored her confidence. Even if he had deserted her bed for Sammy-Jean’s, he was not indifferent