Perfect for the Beach (26 page)

“Hey!” She feigned a hurt tone.

“Is the rental car in your name?”

“Yeah.”

“Excellent.” No loose ends to tie up on that front. “Then once Jenna’s in my care, take off. It’s the only way we’ll have time to work things out for ourselves.”

Ruby’s expression finally grew serious. “I hope this works, Trey.”

“Yeah, I hope it does, too.”

* * *

Jenna was in a warm, vanilla-scented bubble bath, surrounded by vanilla-scented candles. Resting her head against the tub’s wall, she raised a leg, watching the thick bubbles stick to her skin. A satisfied breath oozed out of her. How long had it been since she’d taken a bath like this, luxuriated in such a simple delight?

Not in … forever.

Her eyes flew open. As the sweet fragrance of vanilla hit her full force, she bolted upright.

She wasn’t in a tub. She was in a bed.

Trey’s bed.
She knew it even before she saw the telltale four posters and mosquito netting surrounding her.

Panic curled around her stomach like groping tentacles and squeezed hard. Darting her eyes around the candlelit room, her mind scrambled to make sense of the situation. The last thing she remembered, she had been at Castaways with Ruby. So how had she ended up
here?

Breathing in slowly, she surveyed the room. The dim lighting came from a row of fat candles lining the windowsill. No doubt, they were also the source of the delicate vanilla scent.

This place looked like … like a scene of seduction.

The realization was jarring, but it made her body thrum with sexual awareness nonetheless. There was no escaping the erotic memories this room held for her. She and Trey had made love countless times in this very bed, something she had hardly been able to forget at home in Buffalo, much less right here where the magic of their union had happened.

“Oh, no,” she told herself sternly. “You will
not
do this.” She pushed aside the netting and scrambled off the bed. She headed straight for the candles on the windowsill and blew them out. Many of the times Jenna and Trey had made love, they’d done so to the ambience of romantic music and candlelight. The last thing Jenna wanted was a visual reminder of that now.

Enshrouded in darkness, she turned around. A sliver of light slid under the bedroom door. Surprisingly, the place was quiet. Surely if Ruby was here, her outgoing friend would be filling this place with laughter. So where was she? And how, if the woman was her friend, had she let Trey snatch her from Castaways?

Jenna’s bare feet made no sound on the hardwood floor as she crossed the room. She swung the bedroom door open, prepared to give Trey a piece of her mind—and drew up short.

There were more candles, these ones mixed with a sprinkling of rose petals. Both created a path leading from the bedroom to the sliding patio doors. And was she wrong, or did she detect the scent of her absolute favorite dish—chicken marsala? Surely after two years, Trey wouldn’t remember that detail about her. But maybe that was yet another surprise in what was turning out to be a very surprising evening.

Jenna wasn’t stupid. She knew what this was about. Trey was laying it on thick in an attempt to get her to forget about moving on with her life. Why, exactly, she had absolutely no clue. But she’d be damned if she was going to stay here and let him play out whatever he had planned.

Placing her hands akimbo, Jenna strode to the patio doors. Peering through the glass, she saw Trey trying to light yet another candle on the table. The breeze off the ocean blew it out, but he tried one more time. When the flame flickered and died once again, he dropped the matchbox onto the table.

And then he saw her.

Whirling around, a smile lifted his lips. Jenna swallowed, unprepared for the mix of emotions that swirled inside her. There was anger and nervousness, both of which made sense, but the overwhelming desire to reach out and touch him shocked her to her core.

Surely the reaction was carnal. A completely normal female reaction to one hunk of a man. How could Jenna
not
react to Trey’s perfect butt, clad in a pair of well-worn, faded jeans? Or to those arms? They looked even more solid and muscular than she remembered. Trey had set up his spare bedroom as a home gym, and given his perfectly sculpted body, he was putting it to good use.

Trey slid open the screen door and slipped into the house. “I was just about to check on you.”

Jenna stopped her pleasure gazing and looked up at him incredulously. “What am I doing here?”

“Oh.” He dragged a hand over the back of his neck. “Wouldn’t you know it, you passed out at the bar. Must have been jet lag. I figured I’d bring you—”

“Jet lag, my ass. I saw you and Ruby chatting for quite some time. Then she brought me a drink—not the one that I requested, but one that you made for me. You put gin in it, didn’t you? The only time I ever conk out is when I have gin.”

Trey’s sexy lips curled in a guilty grin. “Darling—”

“Don’t
darling
me. You did this on purpose!”

Trey slowly raised a hand. “All right. I confess. I did do it on purpose.”

Jenna glared at him. “How long was I out for?”

“Close to three hours.”

“Three hours!”
Jenna sounded outraged, although the three-hour blackout was about average. Before she’d discovered her allergy to gin, the few other times in her life she’d had the liquor, she had lost anywhere from three to five hours of time.

“Well, thanks to you, I have a killer headache.” It was more like a dull throb. “Why would you do something this crazy?”

“Because I wanted to get you alone.”

Trey’s words gave her pause. Clearly, he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. “I came down here to divorce you, not to get cozy with you.”

“I know why you came,” Trey said simply.

The deep timbre of his voice unnerved her. Needing to look away from him, she gestured toward the candles. “And what are you trying to do? Set the house on fire?”

“It’s never caught fire the other times.”

The other times.
An image of Trey grinding her while she braced the candlelit kitchen counter zapped into her mind. She and Trey had gotten hot and bothered more times than Jenna could count, and those memories were indelibly etched in her brain.

In her heart.

The feel of Trey’s finger on her face caught her off guard. Jenna looked up to see that his large, sexy body loomed over hers. When had he gotten this close to her? She drew in a shaky breath, inhaling the incredibly intoxicating scent she had committed to memory. The spicy aftershave he wore had always made her think of sex, and this time was no exception.

So did the scent of vanilla, which was why Jenna had never bought anything vanilla-flavored after leaving Trey. One whiff of the stuff and it was a throwback to the intimate times they had shared.

Intimate times followed by an emotional shutdown on Trey’s part. He got close, then pushed her away. He would be incredibly romantic, then push her away. And every time, Jenna had felt the tear in her heart growing larger.

Trey’s inability to open up to her emotionally was why their marriage had ultimately failed. They’d shared an instant and fierce attraction, one that had thrilled and fulfilled her beyond her wildest dreams. But his emotional aloofness had hurt her more than she could bear. With each day, it had become increasingly obvious that her marriage to Trey had been a horrible mistake.

But what had she really known about him when she’d said “I do” other than that they were fantastic in bed?

That thought returning her to sanity, she demanded, “Where the hell is Ruby?”

“Out on the town, I think.”

“The bitch,” Jenna muttered. Talk about a fair-weather friend. Ruby was supposed to be on
her
side, yet she had given her over to the enemy without a second thought. Jenna would have her head on a platter the moment she saw her.

But what was she going to do about right now? She was alone. With Trey. Two and two added up to four as surely as the two of them alone added up to undeniable chemistry.

Jenna turned and walked toward the glass coffee table. She should leave. Call a cab, track down Ruby, and get the papers—

“Jenna.”

Trey’s voice was as rich as dark chocolate, and just as tempting. And ooh, she was tempted. But what was he offering? For her to stay and enjoy one last night of wild sex with him, or stay and be his wife till death do them part?

Jenna mentally chastised herself for her last thought. Trey wasn’t interested in marriage. He had made that clear two years ago. Maybe his ego had been hurt when she’d sent him the separation papers, but he would get over that, just as he had gotten over the excitement of being in love with her.

That bitter reality sobering her, Jenna faced him.

“I know,” Trey said before she could open her mouth.

“You’re thinking you want to leave.”

“No.” Jenna wagged a finger at him. “Don’t you do that. Don’t you presume to know what I’m thinking. Not after two years.”

“All right,” Trey conceded. “Then why don’t you have a seat outside? Dinner’s ready and warming in the oven.”

“You want me to have dinner with you?”

“I made your favorite.”

Jenna was speechless as Trey walked past her. She didn’t move as she heard utensils clinking in the kitchen. Didn’t move even as Trey strode past her again, heading onto the screened-in patio.

Finally, her brain kicked into action. She followed Trey onto the patio, saying, “You can hold me captive all you want, but this isn’t going to work.”

He made a show of straightening the silverware. “What’s not going to work?”

“You know what I’m talking about. I didn’t come down here to have dinner with you.”

“You traveled fifteen hundred miles only to turn around and leave?”

“You know damn well why I came here.”

Trey turned his back to the table and faced her. “We need to talk, Jenna. And I’d much rather we do so over dinner and wine.”

“Like I’d trust another drink you gave me.”

“Touché. Well, I’ll have a glass, if you don’t mind.”

Jenna watched Trey reach for the bottle of chardonnay—also her favorite—and fill one of the wineglasses. A glass of wine right now would be wonderful. But if she had one, she’d be playing right into Trey’s hands.

She said, “I still want a divorce.”

“We’re going to talk about that, sweetheart. Right after we eat dinner.”

Sweetheart?

Trey pulled out a chair. “Please, sit.”

“Tell me why you’re doing this.”

“Because I’d like to think that after all we once meant to each other, we’re not enemies. I don’t know what tomorrow holds, but right now I’d like to spend an amicable night with my wife.” He paused, then added, “Is that so wrong?”

Score one for Trey.
Jenna couldn’t deny his sentiment. They
had
fallen in love. They
had
shared some incredible times together, many of them right here in his house. The thought that she would come down here and end up in an ugly fight with him had given her far too much stress, so she should be glad that Trey was being pleasant.

“All right, Trey. I’ll have dinner with you.”

His smile warmed her insides like a shot of bourbon. This man was dangerous to her heart. He always had been.

So she added, “But as soon as we’re done, we’re going to talk about why I came down here. We’re going to talk about our divorce.”

Chapter Three

Jenna spiked the last morsel of chicken on her plate, stuffed it in her mouth, then sat back in her chair and sighed with contentment. The chicken marsala and Portobello mushrooms had been absolutely scrumptious.

Trey stood and reached for the bottle of wine. “You sure you don’t want any?”

“Oh, why not?” Her head’s dull ache had dissipated once she’d put some food in her belly. Besides, her mouth had practically watered as she’d watched Trey drink two glasses. What was she accomplishing by not indulging? A good wine to cap off an excellent meal—there was nothing wrong with that.