Crazy for You (13 page)

So just what the hell did she want here?

What was the reason she didn’t want to let
Andrew Jacob Powell III go on his merry way and settle back into
his mundane life in Seattle?

Twenty

Preparing for nudity…again

“Okay, up and at ‘em big boy. It’s time to
get going!”

Up and at ‘em, I don’t think so.

Andrew lifted one eyelid and squinted at
Tasha. “Are you referring to my stature in general or a certain
part of my anatomy,” he growled, then turned over, away from her,
jerking the sheets up to his neck, afraid to know the answer to
that question. It wouldn’t be unusual for him to wake with a
woody.

“Just a statement in general. C’mon, get up.
We’ve got places to go, things to do.” She jerked on the
sheets.

“Go away. This is my vacation. I want to
sleep in.”

“Party-pooper.”

She slapped him on the rear. Andrew jerked at
her touch.
Down boy
, he said to his woody.

“C’mon. There’s not much of a crowd out
there. A big group is going off the resort to some sort of mass
snorkeling adventure today, so it’s not like there will be oodles
of people ogling us or anything. Let’s head to the beach and check
it out, want to?”

Andrew pulled down the sheet a bit and rolled
over. He was half afraid to approach this beach subject with her.
“Don’t you ever shut-up and listen. Read my lips:
I-want-to-sleep-in.”

Ignoring him, she whisked the sheet away from
the bed.

Andrew bolted upright and snatched it back to
his body, but not before Tasha had gotten a good glimpse of him.
He’d stripped sometime during the night; the heat was
unbearable.

“Uh, perhaps I was referring to your
anatomy,” she mumbled and walked away. Seemingly nonplussed, she
added, “But since you’re already nude, let’s just go. But of
course, I think you’ll have to wear something between here and
there.” She started unfastening the front buttons to her chambray
shirt.

Standing at the side of the bed, Andrew held
out one hand and attempted to wrap the sheet around his waist with
the other. “Wait! What are you doing?”

Tasha already had the buttons undone down to
her denim shorts and was ready to tug the bottom out of the
waistband. “I’m changing into my swimsuit until we get to the
beach. Look, it’s now or never. Are you coming, or not?”

Andrew contemplated the question.

“Tasha look, I really don’t think I ought to
try out that nude beach right now, you know? With Doug and Brett
out there somewhere lurking around the corner just waiting to get a
snapshot of me...well, you know it could be humiliating when I get
back to the office.”

“Oh, didn’t I tell you?” Tasha stepped closer
and tugged at his sheet. Her shirt fell open a bit. Oh God. “I was
up very early this morning meditating with Samuel.”

Andrew threw her a curious look.

“He told me that Doug and Brett got thrown
out of the resort after the Disco party last night. It seems that
you might have been right. Evidently they got a little rowdy and a
lot out of hand in one of the nude Jacuzzis. Even for this place, I
guess they were really out of line. Anyway, they did have a camera,
which is strictly against regulations, you know, in that area of
the resort. They were taking pictures of many of the nude guests
and I guess one of them got a little irritated and reported it to
the management. They ousted both of them like hot potatoes and
escorted them back to the airport. So...since they’re gone, you
have nothing to worry about.” Tasha smiled and Andrew felt his face
fall.

“Well?” she probed.

He stared at her. “They got back to the
airport?”

Tasha frowned. “Hmmm...appears so. But I’m
sure that management has a vehicle around here somewhere for
emergencies. And I’m sure, Andrew, that your situation would not be
considered an emergency. I mean, what would you tell them? That the
excitement was getting to you?”

He eyed her. “You’re impossible. I don’t know
why I even bother.”

Switching the subject back to the beach,
Tasha asked, “So, are you coming with me or not?”

“All right. I’m coming. Just give me a minute
to get dressed.” Somehow he didn’t like the thought of her going
there alone. Even though he didn’t want to go there himself.

“Well, you don’t have to do anything special
on my account. Just put on your swim trunks and let’s get going.”
She lowered the shirt over her shoulders as she stepped toward the
door, her back to him. Andrew watched that blue, chambray shirt
slowly drop to the floor revealing her back. Her smooth, lightly
tanned back. Soft shoulders. Narrow waist.

This woman is driving me insane
.

“I’ve got to brush my teeth,” he said.
Stupid, that was stupid.

“So brush them. I’ll wait.”

“Uh, my stuff is in Samuel’s room.”

“So, go get your stuff and meet me back
here.”

“No, you go on. I’ll catch up.”

“Like hell, we do this together,” she tossed
over her shoulder, fastening the clasp behind her.

“I...I think I’ve changed my mind. Actually,
I don’t think I ever decided. I think you decided for me.”

Turning, she faced him. “No,” she said
through gritted teeth, “you have not changed your mind.”

“I have.” Man, did she look good.

“What’s the matter, afraid you won’t measure
up? Is that it? Are you embarrassed, Mr. Stuffed Shirt?”

When she looked at him like that, her
nostrils flared, her hair all fanned out over her bare shoulders,
her barely clad breasts taunting him, no less—her long, barely clad
legs spread apart in a stance that said she meant business, Andrew
knew he’d gone too far. He couldn’t back out now.

He took one step toward the door. Inside, his
stomach jerked and flinched. He took another step. This time,
something in his chest quivered. His throat constricted. He didn’t
think he could breathe.

I can’t do this.

“Look. I promise. I’ll meet you at the beach,
okay? Just let me go back to my room and clean up a bit.” He turned
to gather his clothes. “In fact, why don’t you go on so I can get
dressed to go back to my room. And I promise you, I’ll find
you.”

“Oh, what the hell, Andrew. This is bunk.
You’re not going and we both know it.”

“I...I have every intention—”

“Well, I’m not waiting for you. I’ll be at
the beach if you decide come. Enjoying myself. Having the time of
my life. While you, on the other hand, will be pining away for the
safety and security of your mundane little world back in Seattle.
So you know what? Go for it. I, for one, am here and do not plan to
waste another minute—

“Ciao, baby.”

Then she turned and walked straight out the
door. Without a towel. Without her shoes. Without anything other
than her bikini top and her denim shorts.

And Andrew realized one thing at that moment.
He didn’t like watching her walking away from him.

Twenty-one

Uninhibited at Eden II, The Club Regale

Toga Party

The note on his bed read: Toga party tonight.
Be there or be square.

He didn’t have to wonder who it came from.
Samuel wasn’t into parties, he’d told Andrew. Messed up his
concentration too much for meditation. The note most definitely was
from Tasha.

After returning to his room that morning,
luckily finding Samuel there because he still hadn’t located his
key, he’d donned a pair of shorts and a polo-type shirt he’d bought
the day before. He should have bought some sort of shoes, but
didn’t. So, he just decided to be wild and crazy like everyone else
around here and go barefoot.

Score one for the businessman.

It felt extremely uncomfortable, but was
infinitely better than wearing his purple socks and wingtips.

He’d taken the liberty of walking around the
joint most of the morning and afternoon. He did wide circles around
the nude beach area. He didn’t care if Tasha was there, he wasn’t
going to go there. No matter what he’d told her.

He checked out the normal beach for normal
people and wished for once that Tasha was a normal person. Those
people were having fun out there. They saw no need to be
exhibitionists. To shed their clothes. To parade around naked in
their birthday suits. They were just out enjoying the sun and the
surf and having a helluva good time in the process.

Why couldn’t that be Tasha and him?

Because Tasha wasn’t a normal person. And if
the truth be known, that was the attraction.

Of course, Andrew really didn’t want to admit
that to himself, did he?

Throughout the day, he’d also checked out
every nook-and-cranny bar (one complete with piano), the circus
workshop, the snorkeling and scuba diving lessons (he just
watched), the windsurfing school, the tennis courts, the fitness
club, the volleyball courts (there was a nude one of those, too, he
found out), the dining hall (he had lunch), and even a library.
That was enough excitement for him throughout the day.

But it was the people who amazed him.

They flitted about from one event or sport or
activity to another, scantily clad, with ecstatic smiles on their
faces.

They where happy. Carefree. Nary a worry in
the world.

Andrew sat on the side of his bed and glanced
across the room to view himself in the mirror. And there the tale
was told.

There was a scowl on his face.

He wasn’t scantily clad.

He wasn’t carefree.

And he certainly carried the worries of the
world around on his shoulders.

Looking again to the note in his hand, he
thought once more, long and hard, about the evening’s coming
event.

In the next instant he ripped the sheet from
his bed and went in search of Samuel. “If anyone knows how to make
a toga out of one of these things…” Andrew mumbled.

And with that statement, he decided to
become, or at least attempt to become, somewhat...uninhibited.

****

Tasha fiddled with the strap of her toga that
ran over her left shoulder, around her back, and then tied at her
waist. The darned thing, she thought. How in the world am I ever
going to keep this stupid sheet intact?

She supposed she should have used safety pins
or something, but she’d had none and couldn’t find any in the small
shop off the hotel lobby.

And it was only a twin sheet. Her king-sized
sheet was way too big so she’d swiped the one off the roll-away.
Thing was, with her height, it made the thing rather skimpy. And
she hadn’t worn underwear, either. Oh geez. Perhaps she shouldn’t
dance too much.

She figured Andrew would never know the
difference about the sheet. Most likely he wouldn’t be making it
back to share her room again, anyway. She’d seen hide nor hair of
him since earlier that morning.

Oh, she’d known he wouldn’t show up at the
beach. That was predictable. She just thought that somehow, for
some reason, he would have contacted her later in the day.

Of course, she knew that he knew what was on
the agenda tonight. She had managed to have Samuel sneak the note
onto Andrew’s bed. However, that didn’t mean that the man would
actually show up here. In fact, if he did show up here, she’d
probably have to—

“Well I’ll be damned,” she whispered.

There he was. In head to toe, toga.

And he looked damned cute in a toga, too.

She watched as he meandered sheepishly across
the room, heading straight toward the bar he’d frequented the night
before. She had already figured, as a creature of habit, that he
would do just that. And there she was, waiting for him, his scotch
in one hand and her fruity umbrella drink in the other.

His gaze shifted from side to side and Tasha
knew he was trying damned hard not to call attention to himself and
to show his discomfort with the entire situation.

The party around them reveled. At the moment,
drinking and dancing and eating were the only things on the card.
However, she knew for a fact that things were going to get quite a
bit more interesting before the night was through.

That’s why she had Andrew’s scotch in
hand.

He was almost directly in front of her before
he stopped shifting his gaze back and forth long enough to realize
that Tasha was standing before him. He stopped abruptly, appeared
to gulp, and his eyes grew wide as they trailed down, and then back
up, her body.

“Drink, sailor?” Tasha pushed the scotch his
way.

He didn’t say a word but simply took the
glass, downed the amber liquid post haste, and returned it to her
fingers. In turn, Tasha set the glass on the bar and nodded to the
bartender.

“He’ll keep them coming.” She winked at
Andrew.

“Good.”

Tasha laughed.

After a moment, he sighed and she saw his
shoulders relax, then he slid up next to her, leaning against the
bar. “I feel ridiculous.”

“You look peachy.”

“Peachy?”

“Ummm...good enough to eat.”

“What?” Andrew stepped back a few steps and
Tasha just sidled up next to him again.

“Don’t worry, Andrew. I won’t bite you. Not
yet, at least.”

He gulped again and reached for his second
shot. “That’s what I’m afraid of,” he mumbled into the glass.

Grinning, Tasha pushed away from the bar.
“Oh, look! It’s time for the toga fashion review!” She grabbed
Andrew’s hand and started for the center of the floor.

Andrew had no choice but to follow, quickly
downing the second scotch and grabbing the third sitting beside it.
“Excuse me? Toga fashion review?”

“Yes! I hope you don’t mind. I signed us both
up!”

Andrew stopped cold in the center of the
floor, dragging Tasha to a halt with him. “You did what!”