The Trouble with Mojitos: A Royal Romance to Remember!. Romy Sommer
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attraction too. And she didn’t want to.
Rik shut his eyes, blocking out both their faces.
He knew exactly what tomorrow held. It would be the same as every other day. The sun would shine. He’d wake late, and go for a swim to clear the fuzziness in his head. By the time his arms and legs were too tired to swim any further, he’d wash up on the beach. And that’s when the emptiness would hit.
He would spend the rest of his day trying to fill that emptiness. He would run on the beach, or take Adam’s boat out, or he’d drink. And he’d already done enough of all these things to last a lifetime.
Even if it was just a boat ride to Tortuga, it beat spending another day in Adam’s guesthouse while the walls pressed in on him. But he was done with helping people, unless there was something in it for him. And there was only one thing Kenzie had that he wanted…
Now that was an interesting idea.
He shrugged. “Okay.”
Relief crossed the mayor’s face. He turned back to Kenzie. “If your director likes the island, then you build your boats on Los Pajaros and you accommodate your crew on Los Pajaros, and you film on Tortuga.” Translation: you spend your money here on Los Pajaros. “But you must promise me that no islanders will have to go to Tortuga.”
“Agreed. Do we have a deal?” Kenzie offered the mayor a courteous handshake.
“Deal.” The mayor took Kenzie’s hand, but instead of the expected shake, he bowed over their joined hands in the local custom.
Rik held the door open for her, but this time she was careful to avoid contact as she passed. Her scent still slammed into him, though.
He grinned. His body was taking over from his brain. That was an interesting first. He knew passion didn’t last and that it burned out far too quickly, but he didn’t care. She was only passing through. For just this once, he wanted to be like every other man and indulge his desires.
So she thought she didn’t want a man like him, a purposeless drifter with tattoos. And she didn’t trust him. Never mind. He could work with that. He’d make her want him, and she wouldn’t be able to resist.
Head high.
@KenzieCole101: Who knew pirates still ruled the Caribbean?
They stood on the pavement beside her rental car. Kenzie shifted, uncomfortably hot inside her own skin. She’d scarcely been able to concentrate throughout the meeting with the scorching awareness of Rik’s presence behind her, and the effort was starting to take its toll.
Or perhaps it was just the heat. Or last night’s lack of sleep.
It was most certainly not physical attraction making her forget why she was here, or her vow to Lee. And it sure as hell couldn’t be the memory of those inked biceps making her want to indulge her fetish for bad boys.
She wasn’t that weak, was she, after everything she’d already been through?
“So what now?” She looked at the palm trees lining the esplanade, at the sizzling tar at her feet … anywhere but towards Rik.
“Now I take you home.”
At that, her gaze flew to his, horror that he’d read her thoughts tainting her cheeks.
“I need to fetch my car, remember?” That mocking look was back in his eyes.
His car. Of course. She hoped he believed her blush was due to the midday sun burning down.
She moved to the driver’s side but Rik shook his head and held out his hand. “This time I drive.”
She hesitated. While there was something in his tone that demanded obedience, it also made her skin crawl. He might not have any right to a title these days but he still acted like he ruled the world. Bloody Golden Boys.
But she had several ex-boyfriends and a ‘perfect’ big bother who’d helped her develop an immunity to men who believed the world would do their bidding. Just because the rest of the world thought they had it all didn’t mean they weren’t all douches. In her experience, men like Rik could charm the pants off you in one breath then make you feel like a piece of shit with the next.
And she wasn’t going to let anyone make her feel like that again.
She tossed the car keys at him. “Fine.”
He didn’t take them back the way they’d come. Instead, he drove along the edge of the harbour, out the other side of town and onto a rutted tar road that snaked around the steeply peaked mountain that had once been a volcano.
The road climbed higher and higher up the side of the mountain, twisting and turning, until her knuckles were white with a tension that wasn’t entirely induced by the cliff edge a few feet from the car’s tyres.
It may have been centuries since the volcano was last active, but she was sure the atmosphere inside the car would register on the Volcanic Explosivity Index. If she thought she’d been aware of him in the mayor’s office, it was nothing compared to her awareness of him inside the tight confines of the little car.
He slowed the car, shifting gear, the fabric of his jeans pulling taut across his thighs. She swallowed and looked away. “I thought we were going back to the hotel?”
“We are. I’m taking you back via the scenic route.”
He pulled the car into a layby. The vegetation on this side of the mountain was low scrub, allowing unparalleled views. On the wide plain below them were the sugar cane fields that were still the island’s most profitable export.
Rik leaned across her, and her whole body went on high alert. Defcon one. Danger of explosion imminent.
Remember him drunk and passed out, you stupid girl. That ought to calm the hormones.
A chain of small islands curved out from Los Pajaros. The charter boat had taken her to the nearest of those. At the furthest tip of the curve a smudge of green was visible on the distant horizon. “That’s Tortuga.” Rik said, pointing out her window. “Corona isn’t visible from here.” His voice sounded almost wistful.
She blinked to clear the dancing spots before her eyes and the fog in her brain, relieved when Rik returned both his hands to the steering wheel and re-started the car.
Sleep, that’s what she needed. She was an eight hours a night girl and once she’d had an uninterrupted night of sleep, she would stop feeling this raw sexual tension that seemed to be zipping up and down her body. She rubbed her arms.
The road twisted and turned around the dormant volcano, away from the flat plain and the sugar cane fields, gradually descending through a plantation of banana trees to more familiar terrain; dense tropical vegetation, idyllic sandy beaches, and the lush resorts where tourists played in the sunshine.
Rik turned the car in through the gates of her hotel, into the long palm-fringed avenue with golf greens on either side. The resort buildings rose up before them, gleaming white and tiered like a wedding cake.
“So what’s the plan for tomorrow?” she asked as he parked her rental beside his.
“I’ll meet you in the hotel reception at ten.”
She rolled her eyes. “Now where’ve I heard that before? How can I be sure you’ll be there?”
His dark eyes glittered. “I’ll be there.”
He held out his palm with her car keys. His hand was tanned and oddly roughened, not as smooth and manicured as she’d expected of a prince. Gingerly, she took the car keys from him, careful not to touch him in case she combusted.
He