Page 42 of Wrecked With You

He drew her in, relieved when she responded so eagerly, opening to his touch, his kiss. It was long and slow, and he stroked his hand along her back, bare in a low-back Tee she wore without a bra. His fingers brushed her skin as their lips clashed, the kiss that had started gentle becoming almost as intense as the fire-lit sky.

After a moment, they pulled apart, both breathing hard. “We don’t have to find her today,” he finally said.

“True. There’s no real downside to waiting until tomorrow.”

“And think of the upside.” He slid his fingers lower, teasing under the band of her shorts.

“You’re doing a very good job convincing me.” She closed her eyes, her voice heavy with desire.

“Good, because I—wait.”

Her eyes opened immediately, that look of lust gone, replaced by cold calculation and total professionalism. He saw her head cock, then tilt slightly to indicate the path that led toward the other cabanas. He nodded. Just the tiniest motion, but she clocked it, and he watched as she tapped out one, two, three on her thigh.

They turned in unison, catching a petite blonde with short-cropped hair standing in front of them holding a camera. She squeaked and jumped, falling backward against a leafy plant.

“Well, hello,” Emma said, in the kind of voice she’d used with him in bed. “This might be a resort with low inhibitions, but I think taking candid shots without permission breaks all the rules.” She took his hand and put it over her breast as she leaned against him, striking a pose. “But I’m sure we could work something out.”

He had to hand it to her. If she hadn’t spoken first, he probably would have asked the girl what the fuck she thought she was doing. Emma had turned it around and seamlessly kept their cover.

“That’s a nice offer,” the woman said. “And sorry for not asking. You two looked like you’d make a good subject. So I took a few photos. To, um, get a feel for you.”

“A few?” Tony said, holding out his hand. “Can I see?”

The woman licked her lips and then passed him the camera. He scanned through the images moving backward in time from the photo she’d just taken—which clearly showed his fingers dipping down the back of Emma’s shorts—then a candid of him and Emma on the path, one of them walking through the foliage that surrounded the natural spring, and finally another candid of him, Emma, and Tracy Ann.

He looked up at the blonde. She appeared to be in her mid-twenties, and she was biting her lower lip. At the moment, she looked like a rabbit who wasn’t sure if it should bolt or inch closer for a bit of carrot.

“So this is a hobby?” Emma asked. She’d been looking over his shoulder at the digital screen. Now she was examining the girl.

“I really didn’t mean it to be a thing. Maybe I could buy you two a drink to make up for it? I’m Thea,” she added, her focus entirely on Tony as she spoke. I’m, um, the assistant at a business in the States. We deal in news. Information.”

Tony met Emma’s eyes. She nodded and took a step toward Thea. “I’m Kari. I came with Tony to the island. And we’re both very glad to meet you.”

“Why don’t we head to our cabana?” Tony suggested. “We can have a drink. Talk.”

Thea nodded, her curls bouncing. “That would be great. What cabana are you in?”

“It’s in the Wanton section. Called the Sea View,” Emma said, and to Tony’s surprise, Thea looked relieved. “That’s perfect.”

“How did you know I was—” Tony began, then shifted the question when Thea grabbed his hand and squeezed in what he took as a warning. “—uh, going to be a good subject for your photos?”

“Well, you have the body,” she said casually. “Both of you,” she added, with a nod toward Emma. She slipped her other hand into Emma’s. “I think we three are going to have a very good time.”

Chapter Fifteen

“All right,” Thea says as soon as we reach the room. “We can talk now.”

“Now?” I repeat, with a sideways glance at Tony. “Why not before?”

She shrugs, looking more than a little uncomfortable. “There aren’t microphones outside,” she says. “But some of the staff are trained to—well, you know.”

“Actually, we don’t,” Tony says. “Why don’t you tell us?” The words are a question, but it’s clear he means them as an order.

“They listen. And if they think that someone is here who might cause trouble, they report it to upper management.”

“Trouble,” I repeat.

Her face goes bright red. “Well, it is a sex resort.”