Private Party (8 page)

Her smile faded as she saw the grim expression on his face. She’d been so encouraged by his wide, welcoming smile, convinced that he was as happy to see her as she him. But now he stared silently at her, his eyes hidden by his sunglasses, his full lips set in a tight line.

“What are you doing here?”

Not exactly the welcome she’d been hoping for. “It’s great to see you, too, Chris.” Even through the sunglasses she could feel his gaze rake down her body, taking in her halter top, and exposed abdomen. She felt her nipples harden beneath the thin cotton, and, not for the first time, she questioned the wisdom of bowing blindly to Wendy’s judgment.

“Trust me, Jules,” Wendy had said when Julie had protested that she couldn’t wear a bra with the halter top. “You are blessed with perfect breasts. They’re big enough that you have a nice little rack, but not so big that they look sloppy when you go braless.”

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Julie had given in, but now she felt almost as exposed as if Chris’s hands had peeled away the fabric.

“Hi, Carla, it’s nice to see you again,” she said, offering her hand in greeting.

Carla shot Chris a quizzical look and said, “Since Chris seems to have forgotten his hosting duties, let me help you get settled in.” She gave Julie the key and map to her villa, assuring her that her luggage would be in her room when she arrived.

“If you want to wait a moment,” Carla said, “we can give you a ride in the golf cart.” Julie politely refused, hoping that the walk would dispel the anger she felt coiling in her belly. Why was he being so cold? Her first instinct was to jump on the ferry and go back home. It wasn’t in her nature to cause trouble or stay when she wasn’t welcome.

Her spine stiffened. The old Julie might turn tail and run, but the new Julie needed to stand her ground.

Chris didn’t want her here? Fine. As Jennifer had pointed out on the ferry, there was plenty here to keep her entertained.

Chris watched Julie stalk away, mesmerized by the bounce of her luscious ass under her skirt. He resisted the urge to go after her and apologize. He’d seen the hurt in her eyes, the way it had overtaken her sweet, excited smile. He’d been unforgivably rude, a total ass, but she’d taken him by surprise, damn it, showing up unannounced like one of his ridiculous fantasies come to life. And Chris, who’d never had any sort of problem handling himself around women, found himself at a total loss. So rather than escort Julie to her villa, he stayed at Carla’s side, trying to regroup and figure out his next move.

“What was up with that?” Carla asked Chris once Julie was out of earshot.

“A complication I really don’t need right now.”

“Weren’t you just at her wedding? Where’s her husband?”

“Drop it, Carla.”

“Wait a minute—did you and she—at her wedding?” Carla might abstain from her own liaisons, but she loved to live vicariously through Chris.

“I said, drop it.” Chris felt tension creep into the back of his neck, promising a killer headache if he didn’t get some Tylenol and some sleep in the very near future.

“Oh, this is going to be a fun week.”

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6

J
ulie took one last look in the mirror, adjusting the straps of her pale pink camisole. The slightly gathered neckline prevented the silk from clinging too tightly, which was a good thing, since the top and the matching silk and chiffon skirt was yet another outfit that required the braless look. In fact, the way the skirt clung to her, it barely allowed underwear, but Wendy had assured her that one of her new pairs of thong panties would work fine underneath.

Which in itself was a new adventure. After spending most of her life trying to prevent her underwear from creeping up her behind, it was hard to get used to having a permanent wedgie.

But she had to admit, as she scrutinized her reflection, she looked nice. Sexy, but tastefully so. The pale pink of the silk flattered her skin, newly golden courtesy of the self tanner treatment she’d had after the rather invasive waxing procedure. The silky drape of the fabric flattered her less than impressive bust while miraculously diminishing what she had always considered her bubble butt.

One last swipe of her favorite MAC lip gloss, and she was ready to face Chris.

The short walk to her villa earlier this afternoon had done little to cool her irritation. But her tension began to fade the moment she stepped inside its air-conditioned coolness. The villa’s sumptuous but comfortable wicker furnishings, the massive, king-size bed hung with mosquito netting, and most importantly, the beautiful white sand beach right off the villa’s terrace went a long way towards calming her down. Why waste time dwelling on Chris’s less than enthusiastic greeting when she had all this luxury at her disposal?

But after looking through the range of services offered by the resort, Julie couldn’t help but wish Chris’s PrivateParty

response had been a little more enthusiastic. In addition to the usual range of spa services, Holley Cay also offered couples-only treatments where lovers could give each other massages and honey wraps or take private saunas and steam baths. And the room-service menu included an assortment of goodie baskets, with goodies ranging from condoms to flavored massage oils to handcuffs to cockrings.

Chris handcuffed to her bed, covered in coconut-flavored massage oil. The mere thought sent a rush of warmth between Julie’s thighs.

After unpacking, she’d slipped on the most modest of her new bikinis and gone for a leisurely swim.

How long had it been since she’d actually been on a real honest-to-God vacation? Sure, she’d seen the inside of more five-star resorts than she could count. But she was always working or scouting out the competition. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d arrived at some beautiful spot and had nothing better to do than go for a swim and take a nap in the warm tropical sun.

But now it was time to face reality, in the form of Chris. Tonight was the welcoming cocktail party, taking place at the resort’s beachside restaurant. Chris was sure to be there, since he was the official host.

Her belly tightened with a mixture of anticipation and apprehension. All she needed to do was get him alone for a few minutes, explain that she didn’t want anything more from him than a relaxing two weeks, and everything would be fine.

In deference to the three-inch heels on her gold beaded sandals, Julie used the villa’s complimentary golf cart to drive the short distance to the cocktail party.

The party was already in full swing, and it took her a minute to find Chris in the crowd of eighty or so guests who milled around the bar or occupied several tables.

She couldn’t help but smile when she saw his attire. He still wore the same outfit he’d worn to the dock, a look echoed by most of the other male guests. The women, in contrast, were dressed in designer sundresses and skirts, and Julie gave a quick moment of thanks that she’d chosen one of her dressier outfits.

He gave her a quick smile and a nod of acknowledgement, but made no move to approach her. Hurt pricked at her like a mosquito, and she scolded herself for being paranoid and needy. His life might seem like one long vacation, but Chris was, in fact, working. He couldn’t just drop everything to entertain her just because she’d decided to show up on his doorstep.

She wove her way through the crowd, trying to get to where Chris stood talking to a group of divers from the ferry, but her progress was halted when a cocktail waitress stopped to take her drink order.

“I’ll have a white wine—” The woman looked at her expectantly. Hadn’t she firmly put her white wine days behind her? “I’ll have a Patrón Silver margarita on the rocks,” she said.

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When the waitress retreated, Julie took a bite-size crab cake from a passing waiter and once again looked for Chris. She had just found him when she heard a familiar voice to her left.

“Hey, Julie, over here!” Amy and her group of friends had pulled several little tables together, and they had been joined by the group of divers. “Come sit with us.” Julie was torn. They really did look like they were having a good time, but she still wanted to talk to Chris. She wanted reassurance that she hadn’t really seen that shocked, hunted look in his eyes when she’d first stepped off the ferry.

Amy was busy shuffling people around, placing another chair in between herself and a tall, good looking blond guy whom Julie vaguely remembered as Mike. What the heck. Chris was deep in conversation with the couple from London. Maybe it was better to wait until the crowd had thinned out a little before trying to talk to him.

She collected her drink from the waitress and sat down in the proffered chair.

“Julie, you already know Jen, Kara, and Chrissy,” she indicated her three friends. “And this is Mike, Dan, Greg, and Brad.”

Julie politely shook hands with each, noting that none of them was subtle about checking her out. She took a sip of her drink, knowing that the warmth she was feeling had nothing to do with the tequila. Call her shallow, but it felt nice to be admired after spending most of her life feeling invisible.

The group made small talk, and Julie learned that the guys were all buddies from Harvard Business School. All were in their mid-thirties and had taken full advantage of the Internet boom of the late nineties. They reunited at least once a year to check out the world’s best diving spots.

“So, Julie, do you dive?” Mike asked. His blond curls fell charmingly over his brow, and he had very pretty clear blue eyes.

“I have a couple of times, but it’s not really my thing.” She quickly related the story of her last disastrous scuba dive in Hawaii nearly two years ago. It had been her first—and last—vacation with Brian. He’d convinced her to go on a deepwater dive, despite her protests that she tended to panic when the water got too dark. A seal had brushed up against her. Julie, thinking it was a shark, had panicked and grabbed hold of Brian, and knocked out his mouthpiece in the process. Once they reached the dive boat he told her he wasn’t going to dive with her again if she was going to be such a wimp. He’d spent the rest of their vacation diving with the sexy female Australian dive guide.

“Since I never really got over my fear of the deep water, it was a good excuse to stick to snorkeling.” There were chuckles and nods of agreement from a few of the women.

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But Mike was frowning. “That’s totally uncool. If you were uncomfortable at that depth, he should have taken you on a shorter dive until you were more confident.”

“Chivalry wasn’t exactly Brian’s strong suit,” Julie said as she licked the salt from her glass and took another sip.

“All the more reason why you’re lucky to be rid of that jerk,” Jen said, raising her piña colada in the air.

“Here’s to Julie, and her well-deserved freedom from assholes.” Julie laughed and raised her glass. She really did feel free. And it felt great.

“You all sound like you’re having a good time.”

Julie jumped at the familiar voice behind her. She tilted her head back to look at Chris, surveying the group with a smile that looked a little strained around the corners.

“Your resort is fabulous,” Amy gushed. “We’re already having the best time.” Julie watched Chris as he moved around the table, greeting everyone in turn. Was it just in her mind, or was he checking out all of the women except for her? Julie reached up and tugged her earlobe, feeling suddenly self-conscious. Only five minutes ago she’d felt confident and sexy. But now she just felt like an awkward teenager among the glamorous group.

Kara, a Sophia Loren look-alike with bedroom eyes and a rippling mane of dark brown hair, captured Chris’s attention. His gorgeous midnight eyes gleamed down at her and his teeth flashed white as he laughed at something she said.

Julie took another gulp of her drink and quickly signaled a waitress for a refill. Just when she couldn’t stand watching him flirt with Kara any longer, Chris made his way over to her chair. Capturing her hand, he brought it to his lips. Even that small contact was enough to send heat racing up her arm. His mouth quirked in a funny half smile. “And it’s great to see you again, Jules. I’m glad to see you’re recovering from your recent fiasco. I’m sure your new friends will help you forget all about it.” Before Julie could respond, he straightened up and excused himself. “I should keep mingling,” he said, “But I hope you all enjoy your evening and the rest of your stay.”

It was all Julie could do to keep from running after him. What was that all about? He’d been friendly enough, and that kiss on her hand was—embarrassingly—enough to make her panties damp under her skirt. But what did he mean by “her new friends”? Was that his way of blowing her off so he wouldn’t be around to entertain her?

Dimly she heard her new friends’ conversation grow louder as empty drink glasses piled up. But Julie PrivateParty

had a hard time following it, consumed as she was with Chris’s cool behavior. She’d convinced herself that Wendy was right, that if she showed up and offered no-strings-attached sex, there was no way Chris would refuse. But now it looked like he was going to do just that. Hadn’t they had a great time together?

Had she done something so wrong, so inept, that Chris was now repulsed by the idea of sleeping with her again?

She tried to keep her emotions under control, trying to see things from his point of view. As far as he knew, she had traveled over three thousand miles to see him after only one night together. To be fair, that was a bit stalker-ish. The best thing to do would be to make her intentions crystal clear. As soon as he had a break in conversation, she’d march right over and tell him she wanted to rekindle their old friendship, but with a few fabulous benefits. Nothing more. Then he would have no reason to worry about any unrealistic expectations on her end.

“Is he still mad at you?”

“What?” Julie looked into Amy’s concerned blue eyes. Oh God, had she somehow found out about her night with Chris?

“For dumping his brother?” Amy clarified.

“Oh, right. I just think the whole situation was difficult for him,” Julie said. “Speaking of weddings, tell me what you have planned for yours.” Amy eagerly embraced the change of subject. Like all brides, she enthusiastically described every detail of her upcoming nuptials, right down to the number of crystals that would adorn her silk bridal shoes.