From Ex to Eternity

Keith made a mental note to have a word with the recreation manager. This resort would cater to couples, not singles. Shirtless pool boys with the ability to bench-press the equivalent of twice their own weight had their place but not at this property.

As Keith could also bench-press the equivalent of twice his own weight and topped the kid by five inches, Shirtless Pool Boy wisely took off when Keith joined their party.

“Thanks a whole heap, Mitchell. I was enjoying the view,” Meredith grumbled. “No matter how good you look in a suit, I can’t fantasize about you.”

He grinned, his mood considerably lightened. He’d smiled more in the past two days than he had in the past two months. “Why not? Sister code?”

“No, because you’re a cretin.” She tossed her hair. “Unlike some other people I could mention, I don’t forgive so easily. Keep that in mind next time you find yourself in a dark alley.”

Cara’s cheeks went pink. “I’m standing right here.”

“Did I seem confused about that? I wasn’t.” Meredith crossed her arms and glared at Keith. “Watch yourself. I see that look in your eye. I’m the one who held her while she cried over your worthless hide. Don’t you dare break her heart again or the sharks out there will be mysteriously well fed.”

“Still here.” Cara smacked Meredith but she didn’t budge.

They were the same height in their sky-high heels, with the same nose and long, sooty eyelashes, but the similarity ended there. Meredith was a traffic-stopper with her obvious, in-your-face assets, where Cara had a refined beauty that had snared Keith’s attention the moment he’d locked gazes with her across the bar, back in Houston. He hadn’t even noticed Meredith sitting on the next stool when he’d beelined it over to introduce himself and buy Cara a drink.

Keith saluted Meredith. “Yes, ma’am. No dark alleys. No broken hearts.”

“I’m serious, Mitchell.” She stuck V-ed fingers near her eyeballs and flipped them around to stab at Keith. “I’m watching you.”

“Don’t worry your pretty little head about Cara. I’m here to do a job and that’s my sole focus.”

“Uh-huh. And I’m just here for the pool boys.”

With that, she flounced off, leaving him alone with Cara. She wore the same thing she’d had on earlier, which he’d had difficulty fully appreciating in a dark elevator. The lightweight summer skirt and tailored blouse accentuated her curves just as well as the jogging outfit from their pre-dawn run and the outfit’s deep shade of peach naturally led to a desire to take a bite out of the creamy swell of her cleavage.

The outside temperature heated, though he’d have sworn it was a balmy eighty degrees five seconds ago. Learning she wasn’t a liar and manipulator stirred things below the belt in different, unanticipated ways. Coupled with a brand-new entrepreneur’s skin, Cara was suddenly a full package he wanted to rip open with enthusiasm.

She rolled her eyes with amusement. “Meredith has Mama’s flair for melodrama. Among other things.”

“I’ve always liked your sister. You like her, too.”

“I couldn’t do this design business without her.” She glanced at him with a slow sweep that dialed up his awareness of how very much he liked dressed-to-the-nines Cara. “Did you want something?”

Yes, he did. It just wasn’t the same thing he’d wanted when he left the meeting. “How is your ankle?”

“That’s what you chased me down to ask?”

The breeze picked up and flung strands of hair into her face, which he did not hesitate to smooth back. She froze under his fingers. What was he doing? “I’m concerned about you. You’re an integral part of the expo.”

“I’m fine. I doubt I’ll be jogging in the morning. But I’m okay.”

“Now that’s a crying shame.” He’d been looking forward to running side by side with natural Cara, oddly enough. Jogging was supposed to be a solitary sport. That’s why he liked it.

His phone vibrated and as he was still on the job, he pulled it out. And swore.

“Problem?” she asked.

“Potentially. I’ve had my eye on a depression in the Atlantic for a week or so. NOAA just upgraded it to Tropical Storm Mark.” He flashed his phone toward her, showing her the map sent by the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration. “NOAA app.”

“Who has an NOAA app?”

“A consultant hired to turn around a resort located on the leading edge of the Caribbean during hurricane season. I’m good at what I do.”

Cara’s gaze skittered across his mouth, lingering. “I’m pretty aware of the breadth of your skill set.”

Her voice had dropped, turning sultry, and his body hardened in an instant. Yeah, he remembered how hot their kisses had always been. If he could find a way to make up for his mistake, maybe she’d be interested in a repeat of the fun, expectation-free part of their past.

“Are you flirting with me, Cara?”

She smiled and Meredith’s shark threat seemed less treacherous in comparison. “Not in the slightest. Your best skill is walking away and I took copious notes. Allow me to demonstrate what I learned.”

She pivoted on one sexy stiletto and hobbled after Meredith, leaving Keith standing alone by the pool.

With a tropical storm on the horizon and a grand reopening combined with a bridal expo in two days, Cara was a distraction he could ill afford to indulge. Their history was painful and irreconcilable. Probably too difficult to overcome, regardless of whether she’d actually forgiven him.

Nonetheless, her pointed refusal to engage fanned the flames of his competitive streak into a full-fledged blaze. Once, he’d been eager to disentangle himself from a wannabe trophy wife with zero ambition, and now he could think of nothing else but exploring the new, uncharted Cara.

Keith Mitchell did not back down from a challenge.

Three (#ulink_22fb49f6-d539-54b5-982a-9b2fb4b2eccf)

“What do you mean the flight was canceled?” Cara dropped to the bed and flung both shoes at the wall. Since she was a lover not a pitcher, her Louboutins clunked to the carpet well short of the intended target. Just as everything else she’d attempted to do since landing on this island impersonating paradise.

Meredith pushed a couple of buttons on the coffee brewer—her second pot of the day. “C-A-N-C—”

“I know how to spell canceled, smart aleck. Why is the flight canceled?”

Her sister shrugged. “Mechanical failure. Pilot’s strike. Lost in the Bermuda Triangle. Take your pick. Does it matter? You can wear the dress in the show and I’ll run things backstage. People will love the designer taking the runway. Stop freaking out.”

“I have to freak out. It’s what I do.” Cara had already sent Jackie home and the replacement model should have landed at Providenciales Airport an hour ago. Except her flight out of JFK was canceled.

“Let Keith bring you that bottle of wine he offered. You need to relax.”

“One day, I’ll learn to stop repeating my conversations to you verbatim.” Cara scowled and rubbed her ankle, which was not fine despite all her insistence to that man. Mentally, she scrolled through her shoe inventory and gave up. Except for her jogging shoes, she’d brought nothing less than three-and-a-half-inch heels. She might not even own anything less than three. “I have no interest in being anywhere near Keith.”

“I’ll drink it then. The bottle he sent last night was not bad.”

Cara wouldn’t know. She’d refused to let one drop grace her lips. “You can fantasize about him, too, if you want. Or sleep with him. I don’t care.”

Meredith jerked to a halt, halfway across the room. “Oh, honey. I had no idea you still had feelings for him. Don’t clue him in just yet, okay? Make him work for it.”

“I don’t still have feelings for him!” Cara fell face-first into the raw-silk comforter. Such a vehement denial probably didn’t help her case any. Rolling, she stared at the ceiling.

Mad, she had plenty of. Summoning it up took no effort at all.

She frowned when it didn’t happen. Well, hell. She might not be as pissed as she used to be, not anymore. He’d been so weird in the elevator after she’d laid into him about being such a sleaze. Weird and speechless, and Keith didn’t usually do speechless. He always had words at the tip of his tongue.