Chapter 24
24
“ A re you a succubus?” Dean asked, the water warm, her body hot against him.
Greer laughed, the sound glorious. “Yes. And I’ll sneak into your room when you least expect it and suck every last drop of your essence right out of you.”
He groaned. “Actually, I think you’re a sadist.”
She shook her head, her smile seductive. “Then I must be a masochist as well, because this—” She held him tight, used the leverage of her arms around his neck to rock against him. “—is making me absolutely crazy.”
God, he wanted her. Here in the water. On the beach. In his bed. Anywhere, everywhere. There was no future and no past. There was only now. And Greer.
Then she shoved off him and swam toward the next big wave.
Dean stroked hard, turning as the wave was almost on them. He rode it all the way to shore, her laughter ringing in his ears. Four feet away, he saw her stand, sweeping the hair out of her face and squeezing the water out of her nostrils. “I got sand in my suit.”
He closed the distance. “I’ll get it out for you.”
She laughed again, dancing away, and he followed her once more into the water, catching up with her, pulling her close. “Maybe you should take everything off when we’re out deep enough so that no one can see.”
He swam with her until she couldn’t stand and had to wrap her legs around him. With their bodies so close, he thought he might go mad with desire.
“And what about you?” she asked. “Will you take off yours too?”
He kissed her hard, deep, letting her go again as they bobbed on gentle waves. “I absolutely would. If I wasn’t afraid we’d both lose our suits in the water and have to walk out of here naked.” If he wasn’t sure that once he had her naked, he’d take her, make love to her, right here in sight of the beach and the little kids and the parents.
The teasing was so damn good, keeping him on the edge. And tonight, he’d let the succubus sneak into his room and do whatever she wanted.
“Then we better not take off our suits.” The music of her humor washed over him. “Here comes the next big one.”
And they rode it to shore together.
That’s what he wanted. Tonight. Together. In his bed. All that pleasure all night long and into the morning light.
Greer was crazy with desire when they finally climbed out of the water, when her fingers were so wrinkled they looked like an ancient woman’s hands. They hadn’t brought towels, and they ran hand in hand across the hot sand, and nothing had ever felt so glorious. Back at their chairs, bending to grab her towel, she froze, still dripping.
Two dozen red roses lay on her lounge chair.
She looked at Bernice, then at Nana, and finally the girls. She didn’t dare glance at Dean.
Cynthia shrugged. “A porter brought them. We said you were swimming, and he left them on the chair.”
Enjoying every moment of Greer’s stunned reaction, Bernice singsonged, “Who are they from, Greer?” Then she fluttered her eyelashes at Dean, as if he might have done it.
Not that he wouldn’t, but Greer knew better. All the sensual joy she’d felt out in the water drained away like the saltwater from her suit.
Because Dean had not sent them.
“There’s a card,” Lisa pointed.
Greer couldn’t move a muscle to pick it up.
Then Dean said softly, “Do you want me to read it?” His voice was harsh, no longer the husky tenor he’d beguiled her with in the ocean. He, too, knew who the flowers were from.
She grabbed for the card before he could, her name written across the envelope. How did Conrad even know she was out here? A chill washed through her body. Had he followed her? Had he stood on the shore watching her with Dean?
“Read it aloud,” Bernice called, obviously still thinking the flowers came from Dean.
Nana shushed her. “Whatever a man writes when he sends red roses is for the lady’s eyes alone.”
Greer’s fingers shook as she opened the envelope, pulled out the card. She took one deep breath before she read the words.
I love you. I want you. I need you. Please give me another chance. Everything will be different. He’d signed it with only his first initial.
She wondered if Conrad had actually seen the light. Maybe his mother had knocked some sense into him. But no, this felt like manipulation, the way he’d manipulated her by telling her what she wanted to hear. Until a few short days or weeks later, he would accuse her of flirting with his boss or lying when she was said she was out with her friends. Hot and cold shivers raced through her body.
All she wanted was to throw the roses away. If there’d been a garbage disposal nearby, she’d have stuffed them down it and watch them ground to tiny pieces.
Instead, she picked up the bunch and did the only thing she could.
Walking to Nana, she held out the beautifully scented roses. “They’re for your birthday. It was a mistake that they were on my chair.”
“Really?” Nana’s eyes seemed to water as Greer leaned down, kissing the lady’s papery cheek and placing the flowers in her arms.
“What does the card say?” Nana asked, sniffling.
Greer crumpled the card. “It’s to the best mother, grandmother, great-grandmother, and great-great-grandmother ever. Happy ninetieth.”
Dean stared at her. So did Bernice, who finally looked at her brother and raised an eyebrow. But he came straight to Greer. She gave him the barest of nods, nothing more than a slight tilt of her chin. But he got it and took credit the way she needed to him to.
Folding his arms over his chest and dropping his voice to a low tone of irritation, he said, “I’ll to have to read someone the riot act for mixing up the cards and putting the flowers on the wrong lounge chair.” Then he gazed at Greer with a fondness that seemed far beyond the lovemaking they’d shared. “I intended to send the red roses to your room. Nana was supposed to get the yellow and pink ones. They obviously mixed up the bunches.”
Greer laughed, hoping it didn’t sound strangled. “You shouldn’t have told me. It would have been a lovely surprise when I got back to my room.” She wanted to throw herself at him for making up the perfect story.
He smiled down at her. “I’d intended them to be a surprise.” Then he shrugged. “Oops.”
Nana sniffed again, burying her face in the roses. “You guys are so good. I love you all. And you are the best children and grandchildren and great-grandchildren and great-great-grandchildren that ever did live.” Then she wrinkled her nose at Dean. “But I want the red ones. Pink and yellow are for old ladies.”
“That’s good,” Greer said. “Because I love pink and yellow.”
Nana’s words broke any tension, and everyone laughed. But she was serious, too, and each of her progeny and her descendants and all the significant others rose from their lounge chairs to give her a kiss and a hug. Until tears streamed down her face, and she begged Bernice for a hanky.
Greer slipped away to her lounge chair, and Dean sat beside her while the rest of the family gathered around their matriarch. They both looked at his mother. “I guess Conrad actually did something right,” she said. “Even if he didn’t know it.”
“What did the card say?” Dean asked.
“It said nothing I want to hear.”
Except that the card said everything she’d wanted to hear since she’d moved in with Conrad. But now his words were meaningless.
It had been an amazing, sexy, fun-filled afternoon. They swam, they basked in the sun, they shared margaritas and mangoes on a stick. Nana kept her in stitches, along with Bernice’s dry humor.
Greer refused to let the roses spoil the day. Bernice had taken them back to Nana’s room to put them in water. No one, not even Bernice, questioned Dean’s little white lie. Nana was far too happy for anyone to question the flowers.
Finally, Ralph looked at his watch and said, “We better get a move on if we want to make that snorkel trip.” It was also a dinner cruise that would last three hours.
Though they weren’t demonstrative in front of everyone else—except in the ocean where no one was watching—Dean took her hand as they walked back hotel.
Was that Conrad sitting on a lounger on the opposite side of the pool? With his face shaded by an overhanging palm, then her view blocked by a man stopping for a moment in front of him, Greer couldn’t be sure. She hoped he’d left the way she’d asked, sending the roses only as a parting shot.
Still, her hand clasped in Dean’s made her self-conscious. As much as she told herself she was doing nothing wrong, Conrad’s presence put a damper on the afternoon.
At her door, Dean kissed her. Even after all the swimming and the sun, her makeup gone and her hair frazzled, he didn’t seem to care as he pulled her close. “See you in a few.” The way his voice made her quiver, he could have been whispering naughty things in her ear.
She saw it the moment she stepped into the room—a massive basket on the bureau next to the TV.
She didn’t need to read the card to know it was from Conrad. First the roses, then this. He didn’t respect her wishes. And that was surely him on the pool deck. It set her nerves on edge, made her stomach roil, and her blood boil with anger.
Marching to the balcony, she stepped out to see if he was still there. He wasn’t. No, it was worse. He stood on the wooden bridge that crossed over the lazy river, his hands on the railing as he scanned the wall of rooms. She stepped back quickly before he saw her.
Had he become a stalker?
He was something worse. He was a man who wouldn’t take no for an answer.
She had half a mind to throw the damn gift basket over the balcony. Hopefully, it would land at his feet. Through the colored cellophane, she saw champagne and two glasses, chocolates and petit fours, crackers, cheese, and salami, bath bombs and bubble bath. All her favorite things for her Sunday night bath, her ritual before the work week.
A pang of guilt creeped into her heart. He’d actually noticed the small things.
But that revelation didn’t mitigate the big things, the accusations, the jealousy, or the way he’d canceled the vacation and stomped out. She wasn’t unforgiving, but nor was she willing to be treated with such disrespect.
And then, of course, there was Dean.
They glided across the water on the catamaran. Their group was so large, they took over the entire boat. Even the young people had wanted to come along, deciding this wasn’t just an old folks’ cruise.
When they stopped for snorkeling in a cove that was reputed to have a sunken ship, Dean’s daughters were the first in the water. After last night and the talk they’d had this morning, he felt he’d reached a truce with them. Maybe it was even a step forward in their relationship.
He put it all down to Bernice. And to Greer. She was the one who’d taken him in hand as they searched for the girls. He would have burst in like an angry bull surging into the ring. And that would have pissed off the girls. But Greer had made both him and them think in a different way. He’d understood their need to have fun and be independent, and they’d understood his worry. With Greer at his side, this was one of the best vacations he’d ever taken.
The only complication—one that could ruin everything—was Conrad.
He and Greer swam together, the water gloriously warm, the colorful fish below them swimming in and out of the old sunken ship. Greer tapped his arm to show him something, or he drew her close to point out a sight to her. He didn’t haul her into his arms the way he had while they bodysurfed. And yet this, too, was perfect. Orange and blue damselfish swam lazily by. They saw striped sergeant majors, spotted boxfish, colorful butterflyfish, as well an eel and several sea turtles. The best, however, was the eagle ray Greer caught sight of, the underside of its spotted fins visible as it glided by.
After more than an hour, he asked Greer, “Are you hungry?”
She snorted. “I really shouldn’t be hungry. We’ve been eating all day. But yes.”
Back on deck as they toweled off, he admired her in the swimsuit where it dipped low, highlighting the swell of her breasts. She was a gorgeous woman with luscious curves. He was almost sad when she pulled her coverup over her head. Though the water had worn off her makeup, she glowed without it.
Then Dean helped Bernice and Ralph guide his mother up the ladder. She’d paddled around despite any damage to her hair. Getting her out of the water seemed easier than getting her in, and when she was on the deck, towel in hand, she beamed her pleasure at the outing. “I’m waterlogged. But did you see all those fish? They were beautiful.” She hugged him. “I’m so glad we did this.” Dean held her close for a moment, getting wet all over again.
“I’m starving.” As Bernice rubbed herself dry with a towel, the captain rang the dinner bell, and all the snorkelers swam to the catamaran.
Back at Greer’s side, Dean asked, “Shall we get a plate before the rest of them eat everything in sight?”
Her hair curled around her cheeks as it dried. “Absolutely.”
In the center of the boat, the buffet made his mouth water. Just as Greer made his mouth water. He loaded his plate with enchiladas, beans, rice, and salad, noticing Greer took only half of what he did. As she glanced at his full plate, he said, “I worked up a real appetite out there.”
She laughed. “I barely worked off that delicious brunch we had.”
Not that she had to worry about her weight. She was perfect as she was. The meal was good. They laughed and talked, and the captain stopped by to hear everything Nana had done so far for her birthday bash. She loved being the center of attention. And she deserved it.
Finally they headed back, the breeze off the water growing cool as the sun set. Greer pulled a sweater out of her bag, and Dean helped her wrap it around her shoulders. He couldn’t resist leaning close to whisper, “I can think of a lot of ways to warm you up.”
She nudged him with her elbow, a smile on her kissable lips. “You certainly can’t do any of that here.”
He let a warm breath caress her ear. “Later, I’ll make you so hot, you’ll have to tear everything off.”
He’d put Conrad out of his mind, but on the way back, as the catamaran scooted across the water, thoughts of the man crept back in. Had he left the resort after sending those flowers? Or was he hanging around like a bad smell?
Drawing closer to shore, her phone pinged with arriving texts as they came into cell phone range. When she didn’t reach into her bag, Dean had to ask, “Aren’t you going to look?”
Her lips thinned and her nostrils flared. “It’s Conrad. I don’t feel like looking at whatever he has to say.”
That gave him an opening. “Did he actually leave?”
She shook her head. “I saw him by the pool.”
He wanted to smack his fist into his hand. Why wouldn’t the man leave her alone?
Another thought thrust its way into his head, though he didn’t voice it. Had she left things with too much of an opening? He knew women were naturally averse to hurting anyone’s feelings, so they rarely said things straight out. Except his sisters. But Greer was a CFO. She hadn’t gotten where she was without being straightforward. But he didn’t push her. He had a lot of experience with women, his mother, three older sisters, an ex-wife, and two daughters. He was surrounded by women, none of whom liked to be questioned. The thought made him laugh. Because hell, men didn’t like to be questioned either.
At the dock, they piled into a couple of vans that took them back to the hotel. As their ride jostled them back and forth on the winding road into the resort, Bernice asked, “Shall we all meet down at the bar after we’ve changed?”
Greer was quick to say, “It was a lovely day and a lovely evening. Thank you so much for letting me tag along. But I’m wiped. I think I’ll take a bath and relax for the rest of the night.”
Interesting. She planned to take a bath. After that, would she visit his room while Conrad was still hanging around?
Dean said to his sister, “I’ll be down for a drink. But only one. I feel like I’ve been drinking all day long.” He jutted his chin at his daughters. “Are you coming too?”
Lisa rolled her eyes, but he thought it was almost good-natured. “Seriously, Dad? We’re walking along the beach to a little nightclub where they play music so loud no one can hear anyone else talk.”
Dean wanted to tell them not to pick up any frat boys and to watch their drinks. He didn’t want to have to go hunting for them again.
Bernice laughed. “You just don’t want to hear me talk. And do not leave Jenny and the others to fend for themselves.” Thank God she was the one to say it.
Cynthia gave her a quick hug. “We won’t. Promise. We love you, Auntie.”
At the hotel, Dean held Greer’s hand as they and the family took up all three elevators. He used the crush to palm his extra key into her hand, and when they parted, he leaned down to whisper, “I’ll be back in an hour. Plenty of time for your bath.”
She smiled at him with a promise that made his heart somersault in his chest.