The Unexpected Honeymoon (8 page)

“But Linda's lungs can't handle being around smoke. She'll end up coughing through the whole ceremony, and what kind of memory is that? This is supposed to be special.”

Was the kid getting choked up? His eyes had a sheen to them.

Linda reached over and squeezed her husband's wrist. “It will be special,” she said in a quiet voice. “But smokeless would be better.”

“No problem,” Larissa said before he could. “It's possible the shaman could purify the altar beforehand. Or...” She paused. “We can always do the ceremony without the shaman. Kind of a merger of traditional and nontraditional elements.” Without missing a beat, she launched into a substitute idea. Carlos was doubly impressed. Smart and sexy. A dangerous combination. Her fiancé was a fool.

Without meaning to, his attention wandered to Larissa's legs. Her thighs were pale and smooth, like her shoulders last night. Linda had pale skin, too—most of the new arrivals did—but Larissa's skin had a creaminess to it that made it stand out amid all the bronze and copper. Her skin, her style of dress, her curves...everything about her stood out.

His late wife had been so breathtakingly beautiful. Perfect-looking, some said. Certainly, he thought so first time he laid eyes on her. Larissa Boyd wasn't nearly as flawless, but she had a radiance about her that pulled you in nonetheless. There was steel in there, too. Mirabelle had been so fragile, so unable to deal with a world that wasn't forever bright and shiny. Something told Carlos that Larissa Boyd created her own bright and shiny.

Was that the reason she held such appeal? Because she was so different from Mirabelle?

“And I'm sure the resort boutique can help you find a dress.”

She was looking to him for a response.
“Si,”
he replied, after clearing his throat. “Señora Pedron, our shop manager, works closely with the boutiques in town. She will help you find whatever you need.”

“I don't need anything super fancy,” Linda said, “but I would like to wear something a little dressier than a cotton sundress. I would have packed more appropriately if someone told me about the ceremony in advance.” She gave Paul a playful nudge, which he returned.

“I told you, I wanted to surprise you. Get whatever dress you want. Far as I'm concerned, you'd look gorgeous in a flour sack.”

Naturally his answer made Linda beam. Poor besotted fool. Carlos mentally added up the costs. Paul Stevas's surprise was going cost a small fortune. With every expense agreed to while wearing a smile.

It was that damn smile that tried Carlos's nerves. His insipid adoring look cut too close to home. He'd worn a similar look those first months of his marriage, too. So willing to do anything to keep a smile on his wife's face. Too lost in his romantic haze to realize the impossibility of his job.

A few feet away, Larissa watched their banter with a rapture usually reserved for romantic movies. Carlos could only imagine the smile that would grace her face if he treated her to even a tiny slice of the gestures he bestowed on Mirabelle.

But then, a woman like Larissa would also expect feelings to go along with the gestures, wouldn't she? Feelings he couldn't give even in the shortest of terms. Mirabelle, with all her need, killed that possibility.

Still...he thought, his gaze sliding back to her legs. What he wouldn't do to feel the curve of her calf beneath his palm.

His view disappeared, destroyed by the recrossing of legs in the opposite direction. “That's every detail I can think of,” he heard Larissa say. “You're going to have a gorgeous recommitment ceremony.”

“I'm sure we will,” Paul said, kissing Linda again. “Thank you so much for all your help.”

“I still can't believe I'm actually going to have my dream wedding. I probably won't sleep between now and Friday night.”

“You better. I don't want you getting sick before we've said ‘I do' again.” Paul's comment earned him an eye roll. Such a sugary and adoring exchange, Carlos feared he might choke from the sweetness. To think he'd once sounded that way himself. Sipping his coffee, he offered silent thanks for intense Mexican brewing habits. The bitterness made for good balance. Like reality to fantasy.

“I'll have the catering office type up the notes and make sure a copy is left for you at the front desk,” he told the Stevases. “If there are any questions or changes, please don't hesitate to ask.”

“Should we call your office directly?” Paul asked. He'd directed his question at Larissa.

“I—uh—don't actually work here at the resort,” Larissa replied, color creeping into her cheeks.

“You don't?” Linda's eyes were wider than usual. “You're certainly familiar with the services.”

“Well, that's because—”

“Señorita Boyd is a good friend,” Carlos said, jumping in. “The resort is between wedding coordinators at the moment, and she, being familiar with our services, graciously agreed to step in and help with your event.”

“Ahhh.” The newlyweds exchanged another look, and this time the knowing glance was easily decipherable. They mistook “friend” for something else.

“Then we appreciate your help even more,” Linda told her.

“My pleasure,” Larissa told her, shooting him a look of her own. She, too, had read what the Stevases were thinking. “If it's one thing I love, it's weddings, or pseudo-weddings in this case. I'm absolutely positive you're going to love what we've planned.”

“You're coming to the ceremony right?”

“I make a point of stopping by every ceremony to make sure arrangements are to guests' liking,” he told her.

“Yes, but will you and Larissa stay?”

She was asking if they would attend as a couple.

“I hadn't...” Larissa turned to him, and he shrugged, letting her know the decision was up to her. The woman had no reason to attend. This was her vacation; the Stevases were strangers. Curiously, his pulse quickened while he waited her response.

“Please,” Linda said, grabbing Larissa's hand. “We've only a few family members coming in for the ceremony, and you've done so much to create this wonderful memory. It wouldn't feel right not having you there.”

“Well, if it means so much to you—”

“Oh, it does! Thank you so much.” Eyes filling with emotion, the young woman leapt from her chair and wrapped her arms around Larissa's neck. “For everything.”

“Yes,” Paul agreed. “You have no idea.” His eyes were damp, too. Clearly they were both prone to emotion as well as enamored with each other.

“Looks like I'll be attending a wedding this week after all,” Larissa remarked once Paul and Linda departed. “Don't worry, I won't hold you to standing by my side.”

The image of the two of them dancing on the beach flashed into his head. On their way to the elevator, Paul and Linda walked as though glued from shoulder to thigh. The thought of being glued in similar fashion while swaying to music sent his baser instincts into overdrive.

“You don't have to attend,” he said, reaching for his coffee. “I could make an excuse. Tell them you aren't feeling well.”

“No, I'd like to attend,” she replied. “They seem like a sweet couple. They think we're dating, you know.”

The remark caused him to cough into his coffee. “I assure you, that wasn't my intent when I first spoke. I was simply trying to avoid them knowing you were a guest.”

“Why?”

The truth? He recognized Larissa's discomfort and felt compelled to rush in and save her embarrassment. There was no thought involved. “People expect more from a five-star resort than a guest covering a job in exchange for a discount on her bill,” he replied. Perhaps not the entire answer, but truthful enough.

“I can see why you wouldn't want word to get out. Guests would crawl out of the woodwork looking for favors.”

“Precisely.” The shadow he thought he saw crossing her features had to be his imagination. “We are not in a position to be reducing bills left and right.” No hotel was, and certainly not one who had their accounts mismanaged.

“However, I did not mean to make you feel uncomfortable,” he added. “If you'd like, I will talk with them, and explain we are not together.”

“You don't have to explain on my account. I mean—” she looked down “—it's only for one evening, and it's not like I'll see them again afterward. Besides, the two of them are so wrapped up in one another, I doubt they would remember the explanation anyway.”

“Probably not.” He ignored the surge that overtook him when Larissa said not to bother. Whether the Stevases' thought the two of them together was moot. They weren't. “Well, as you said, it is only for one evening.”

“And there is no rule that says we have to spend the event together, because of a misconception, right?”

Was that expectancy in her voice? Carlos couldn't be sure, but all of a sudden her eyes reminded him of last night. So wide and blue. Kissing her would be a mistake. A very sweet-tasting mistake.

“Si,”
he murmured. “There is not.”

“Great.” Larissa practically knocked the chair over jumping to her feet. Not her most graceful of moves, but then, she'd been stumbling mentally and physically the entire trip. “It looks like we're done here, so if you don't mind, seeing how I am a guest, I'm going to head back to my room.”

“So quickly?” She couldn't blame him for being confused by her behavior. One moment, she's looking him in the eye, the next she was rushing to escape.

“There's a snorkeling trip to the ecopark leaving soon. If I hurry, I can join.”

“I thought you didn't want to leave your lounge chair?”

“I wasn't, but snorkeling was on my original itinerary, and I realized last night there was no reason for me not to go through with my plans. I originally planned to go on Friday, but now that I've agreed to go to the recommitment ceremony, I need to pick a different day, so why not today?”

She smiled, hoping her smile didn't look nervous. Right before answering, Carlos's eyes had dropped to her mouth. While only a couple seconds ticked by, they'd lingered long enough to send some very disturbing thoughts into her head. First and foremost, the very clear realization that she wanted Carlos to kiss her, maybe more than she wanted him to last night.

Much as she hated to admit it, in slightly over twenty-four hours, she'd managed to develop a very serious fixation on the man. Tom, the man she should be thinking about, was barely a blip on the radar. She needed space and fresh air to clear her head.

If her departure disappointed Carlos, you couldn't tell from his expression. His eyes were as shuttered as always. “I won't keep you then. Enjoy your afternoon.”

“Thanks, I will.”

What did you think he'd say? Stay?
The skin on the back of her neck prickled as she rushed her way to the elevator. If he was watching her departure, it was only because she acted so skittish. Anything more was kidding herself. Good thing she did decide to go snorkeling. A nice cool plunge in the tide pools was definitely what she needed to get a grip.

The launch back to her room took forever. Laid-back Mexican time did not work when you needed to stay distracted. Sitting in her seat only gave her more time to think. What did it say about her that she could be so drawn to a stranger on her honeymoon? Maybe she was as superficial as Tom said. She certainly hadn't given him a second thought while talking wedding details with Linda. If anything, she'd been excited that she would get to see her wedding ceremony take place after all.
She and Carlos.

And with that thought the can of worms she'd fought so hard last night to ignore, ripped open to reveal the ugly truth: She didn't miss Tom at all. And if she didn't miss him, then he wasn't really her Prince Charming. She only thought he was because he wanted her, and being wanted was such a nice feeling.

Was that the reason she felt so attracted to Carlos? Because he looked at her with desire? That was so not a good reason.

 

CHAPTER SIX

I
T
 
WAS
,
HOWEVER
, yet another reason to get away from the resort for a few hours. Soon as the launch reached her dock, Larissa rushed upstairs to her bedroom, pulling off her shirt as she ran. She had only a few minutes before the launch made its turn and passed by her dock. If she missed it, she'd have to either call another or rush back to the lobby by foot. Grabbing the first bathing suit she could find, a bright red one piece she normally hated because it emphasized her paleness, she tugged the spandex up over her hips while hopping around the room looking for the rest of her beach equipment. Why was it her sunscreen and sunglasses could never stay together?

Eventually, she located both, along with the snorkel equipment she'd brought with her. She clapped the fins together, to make sure there wasn't a tarantula hiding in a toehold, stuffed the equipment and a couple oversize beach towels into a tote and headed out the door.

A look out the glass-encased staircase told her she took too long to catch the launch, giving her no choice but to take the back way. This time of day, the sun was high and hot, not the kind of weather made for rushing. Fewer than five minutes into the dash, Larissa had sweat trickling down her back. Reminding herself she would be spending the afternoon in the water, she pushed on, making it back to the lobby in time to see the bus pull away from the curb.

Fantastic. Now she'd have to come up with another field trip to keep her mind distracted. Hot and sweaty, she sank to the curb to contemplate her options.

“We do have more comfortable places to sit,” she heard a voice say. The deep timbre washed over her, setting off flutters in her stomach.

Glancing upward, she spotted Carlos standing by the valet stand, his presence obliterating everything around him.

“I missed the bus,” she said lamely, as if he couldn't guess by her woebegone appearance. “So I was trying to figure out what to do. I don't suppose there are taxis that go to Tulum?”

“There are always taxis. The question is how long it takes for them to arrive.”

“Oh.” It was beginning to sound like fate wanted her to stay on her lounge chair and think after all.

It dawned on her, that while she'd been rushing back and forth, her host had changed as well. Instead of his dark suit, he wore a pair of khaki shorts and a sport shirt, the white of which glowed against his copper-colored skin. Until this moment, Larissa had credited his black suit for his darkly sophisticated appearance. She'd been wrong. He looked sleeker than ever. “Are you going somewhere?”

“This afternoon is my afternoon off. I thought I'd take a drive off property.” Looking for distraction and fresh air as well?

Just then, a battered black Jeep older than her pulled up to the curb she sat and a young man stepped out. “
Lo siento por el retraso,
Señor Chavez.”

“
Gracias,
Hector.”

This was Carlos's vehicle? Her amazement must have shown on her face, because he shot her an amused expression. “You look surprised.”

“I am, a bit.” Though she had no good reason except that based on his appearance, she'd expected something sexier. Not a mud-splattered car that looked like it fought in Normandy.

“Don't forget, we are in the jungle. When in Rome...”

Do as the Mayans do. Somehow, she didn't picture the Mayans having four-wheel drive. She could however, picture Carlos, with his jungle cat sleekness maneuvering around the jungle. Is that what he was off to do? Maneuver through the jungle? And why did the idea sound far more exotic when she included him?

She watched as he stashed a small cooler in the back before slipping a tip into the valet's hand. Right before he climbed into the driver's seat, he paused. “If you'd like, I could drive you.”

Ride with him? In his car? The very man she was seeking space from? “Thank you, but that's not necessary.”

“If you wait for a taxi, there's a good chance you'll waste your entire afternoon and I'd hate for a guest to miss out on an activity.”

“I don't want to interfere with your plans.”

“Since my plans are to take a drive, you aren't interfering with anything.”

“I don't know...”

It was only a ride, right? Okay, granted the whole point of getting off site was so she could get away from his presence and think straight. On the other hand, if she continued arguing with him, she'd end up making a scene, and she didn't want that, either.

The driver behind him beeped his horn, the universe telling her to make up her mind and quick.

Carlos looked at her expectantly. “Larissa?”

“Why not?” Shouldering in her tote bag, she slipped into the passenger seat. It was only one ride.

* * *

As the Jeep bounced its way along the highway, Larissa did her best to keep her hat and sunglasses in place. Between the breeze and the Jeep's aging shock absorbers, the job was harder than she thought it would be.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Carlos watching her. Even with sunglasses masking his stare, his attention still caused tingles to spread across her skin. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She tugged at her shorts, wishing she could make them magically lengthen and cover more of her thigh.

For some reason, the action made Carlos grin. “What?” she asked.

“Most people come to Mexico to expose their skin to the sun. You look like you're in disguise. I'm not helping you rob a bank, am I?”

Easy for him to joke. With his gorgeous skin, he wouldn't turn into a tomato in the sun. “You caught me. I'm really planning to rob the ecopark and have corralled you into driving my getaway car.”

“I knew you weren't going for the tropical fish.”

He had no idea how close his joke was to the truth.

A sign by the side of the road said they still had several kilometers before their exit. “Are you sure I'm not disrupting your afternoon?” she asked again.

“I assure you, my plans are flexible. It's far more important that you be happy.”

“Why?”

“Because you are a guest,” he said, as though the answer were obvious.

He seemed to play the “guest” card often around her. Was it his not-so-subtle way of telling her not to read anything into his actions? Larissa wondered if her attraction was that blatantly obvious. Probably.

“Customer service is very important to you, isn't it?” she said. “I don't mean, simply because of recent events. It means a lot to you, what people think of your hotel.”

“Because customers I can make happy.”

“I don't understand.” At first, she thought she heard wrong, he said the words so softly.

“
Lo siento.
I mean that, yes, how people view our resort is very important. The hotel's reputation is my reputation, and by extension, my family's. Discredit the hotel, discredit the Chavez name.”

That wasn't what he said the first time, but she let the comment go. “My grandma used to say something similar, although it came out more like ‘I won't have some high and mighty prom queen bitchin' all over town that I don't know how to sew.'”

“Your grandmother sounds like a very astute woman.”

“She had her moments. I think when you're really good at your job, you can get away with being crotchety.”

“And she was good?”

“Best in town. The house was always full of gowns. On the backs of closets, the china cabinet doors—basically anywhere she could hang a hook. Other kids had posters hung in their room. I had bridesmaid gowns.”

“No wonder you became such an expert on weddings.”

“If you can't beat 'em, join 'em, right? Do you know how hard it was, not to play dress up when I was little? All those beautiful gowns belonging to other people. My grandmother would have had a fit if I so much as breathed on one.”

Remembering how badly she'd wanted to have a dress to call her own, she felt a hollow feeling spread across her chest.
Careful. That's how you got in this mess. By wanting to belong.

“My brother Pedro dressed up in one of our mother's gowns once. My brothers and I never let him forget how pretty he looked.”

Larissa smiled, both at the image and his attempt to lighten the mood. “Sounds like Delilah and me when our friend Chloe dyed her hair. We still tease her about looking like a wire-haired circus clown.”

“Your friends...the three of you sound very close.”

“I don't know what I'd do without them. They're the closest thing I have to a family these—” Damn. It'd be too much to hope he didn't catch her slip, wouldn't it?

“I didn't realize your grandmother had passed. I'm sorry.”

No, she was the one who was sorry, because the whole story was more pathetic. “We'd stopped talking long before, so it wasn't a huge loss.”

“I'm sorry. Did you have a fight?”

“Not really. Once I turned eighteen, she um...well, she sort of retired.”

“From dressmaking.”

“From raising me.” She cringed knowing what he must be thinking. A man like him from a large, established family. “It's not as bad as it sounds. After all, I'd left Texas behind, so why shouldn't she leave me? After all, she'd already had to raise two generations on her own.” Wasn't her grandmother's fault time had wrung out the best of her.

“What about the rest of your family?”

Ah, that. She should have realized that she couldn't mention a second generation without getting a question or two. “There isn't any more. At least any that I care to talk to.” If her mother, wherever she was these days, wanted to find her, she would have. Wasn't like she was hiding out.

Carlos reached over and covered her hand with his. “I am sorry if I brought up a sad topic.”

“You didn't.” She watched as his thumb made small circles on the back of her hand. His touch chased the hollow feeling away. If only she could entwine their fingers and hold on tight.

To her dismay, he moved his hand back to the steering wheel. “Why don't we make a pledge, to focus on pleasant topics for the rest of the ride?” he suggested. “Are you looking forward to snorkeling at the ecopark?”

“Both will be new experiences,” she replied. “Have you been? To the ecopark, that is.”

“I have. It's very nice. Crowded though. Most of the serious divers prefer more out-of-the-way places.” He paused, and Larissa could see an idea forming in his head. “Would you be interested in trying a different location? One that wasn't so touristy?”

“Sure. Why not? I'm not all that keen on crowds myself. Where do you suggest I go?”

His profile broke in to a slow smile. Damn if the look didn't make her nerves tingle with excitement. “You willing to trust me?”

A loaded question to be sure. In spite the warnings whispering in her ear, Larissa shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

It was only snorkling. Sitting back, Larissa watched the road signs for clues to their destination, seeing none. A short time later, they turned off the highway onto a narrow unmarked road which in turn became dirt. The narrow pathway was carved with ruts and potholes so deep she feared one might swallow them up. Tropical foliage formed a wall on either side of them, the broad leaves reaching out to slap the sides of the Jeep. Forgetting about trying to save her hat, she reached up to grab the roll bar to save herself.

“You won't fall out, if that's what you're worried about,” Carlos said.

Maybe not, but holding on made her feel more secure. “What kind of road is this, anyway?”

“I believe Americans would call it the road less traveled.”

Did the road get traveled at all? They hit another pothole and she gripped the bar tighter. Now she understood the point of driving the Jeep, as well as what happened to the shocks. “Is it going to be this bouncy the entire way?” She might not fall out, but another jolt like that one, and she'd need her spine realigned.

“We're almost there,” he said. Ahead, nailed to trunk of a large tree was a wooden sign on which someone had painted...something. The letters were too faded to read clearly, although Larissa thought she made out the letters
C, N
and
T.
A few feet beyond, the road narrowed even further, becoming no more than a rocky foot path that ended with a rusty gate held shut by a chain.

The first thing that struck her when he cut the engine, was the quiet. There wasn't a sound beyond the rustle of leaves and the occasional caw of a bird. Carlos got out and walked to the rear where he removed her beach bag and his cooler. “We will have to go the rest of the way by foot,” he told her. “It's not a very far walk. No more than a quarter mile.”

Question was, a walk to where? All of a sudden she wasn't so certain about this trip.
Serves you right,
she said to herself, as a giant mosquito buzzed her ear. A warm, earthy smell hung in the air. Without the breeze, her skin was already hot and sticky. She took a step, only to turn her ankle on a rock.

“Careful! The path is uneven.” In a flash, Carlos appeared at her elbow and despite carrying their belongings, still managed to have a hand free to guide her. Larissa did her best not to shiver as his fingers brushed her bare skin.

“Is it safe to leave the Jeep parked here like this?” she asked. Every piece of literature she read cautioned about leaving belongings unattended, yet here they were parking an open car in the middle of the jungle. She was suddenly having visions of being stranded. Not because she didn't trust her companion—if anything, she trusted him too much—but with the way her luck had been running this week, who knew what could happen.

“The Jeep will be fine. Pablo will keep an eye on it.”

“Pablo?”

He pointed to where the path turned into a clump of foliage. Beyond the bushes, the path split into two, one way continuing on into the trees, the other leading uphill to a small building.