Bring It On

“I’m going to kill him.” Colt’s words were low and she thought Marcy hadn’t actually heard them. He started to turn, but Lena grasped his arm and held him there beside her. His biceps flexed beneath her hand. When had he gotten so strong?

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To catch the first ferry so I can kick his ass. He could have stopped us or told us, but he didn’t. Don’t worry, I’ll be back before you know it.”

Frowning at him, she said, “That isn’t funny,” before directing her attention back to Marcy who now looked just as confused as Lena had been moments ago.

“Marcy, there’s been a mix-up.”

“You aren’t Lena Rand?”

“No, yes, I mean I’m Lena but—”

“Are you telling me that if we don’t go through with the photo shoot that we can’t stay at the resort?” Colt raised his voice to drown out the rest of her words.

“Yes. No. Why would you want to back out now?” Marcy’s gaze bored into Colt’s. “You signed a contract, Wyn.”

“Um, I didn’t get married and this isn’t Wyn,” Lena blurted out. She almost felt sorry for Marcy as her eyes widened with shock before narrowing into slits.

“What do you mean this isn’t Wyn? What the hell is going on?”

Lena swallowed, realizing it was the first time she’d had to say out loud what had happened since leaving the church. “Let’s just say that Wyn decided he preferred my teenage whore of a cousin.”

Marcy blinked owlishly and then waved her hand in Colt’s direction. “Then who is this?”

“A friend,” she said, before realizing just how that might sound.

Marcy’s eyes narrowed just a little more as she took in the sight of Lena, unmarried Lena, with Colt towering over her in that way of his.

Lena launched a preemptive strike. “No, seriously, we’re just friends. When the wedding fell apart Colt was there. I had the honeymoon, or what I thought was supposed to be a honeymoon, and we hadn’t seen each other in a very long time.” Lena realized she was rambling but couldn’t seem to stop herself. “He travels. He’s a director. He makes documentaries all over the world.”

“Well, isn’t that nice for him,” Marcy said, looking unconvinced.

“How much would a week here cost, Marcy?” Colt asked, filling the pregnant silence. Which was a good thing because who knew what might come out of Lena’s mouth if she opened it again.

“We reserved the honeymoon bungalow for Wyn, the best location on property. An entire week there would cost $8,595. Not including tax.”

“It’s a private island. How can there be tax?” Colt asked.

“We have to pay the mainland for use of their utilities, municipal resources and the ferry service. But price isn’t the problem.”

Tension poured off Colt in waves. Lena could feel it tightening the muscles in her own back. He was frustrated, angry and ready to kill someone; the only problem was that the target for his anger was an entire ocean away. Normally, she wasn’t a violent person, but if Wyn had been standing next to them, she most definitely would have let Colt have at him. She was getting angrier and angrier with her ex-fiancé by the minute.

“Then what is the problem?” she asked.

“We’re booked solid. I don’t have another available room for four days. I have a contract with the production company, a deadline with the ad agency and an internationally distributed travel magazine. I don’t need more paying guests, I need a couple to photograph for our ad campaign.”

With a dismayed glance behind her, Marcy looked at Colt. She wasn’t sure why. It wasn’t his job to fix the mess Wyn had created.

“So basically, you’re saying our choices are to agree to appear in your photo shoot and get a free vacation or leave?”

For a moment, Lena thought she saw a glimmer of panic and regret flash through the other woman’s eyes, but before she could pounce it was gone.

“Look, I’m sorry, but I’m stuck between a rock and a hard place. You’re both attractive. You’d make a great couple for our ad campaign. If you’re willing to do the work, I’d be happy to give you the same agreement I offered Wyn. Free room, food and amenities in exchange for your cooperation with our photography team.”

Lena looked around her at the charmingly elegant lobby. Outside the windows she could see the beckoning water and almost hear the lap of the waves as they hit the sand.

She didn’t want to leave. Not yet. Her life back home was a shambles. She wasn’t ready to face it. The resort was beautiful. She’d been looking forward to staying.

“I suppose it could be worse,” she said, looking back at Colt and raising one eyebrow in reluctant surrender.

“How?”

“I could have actually married Wyn.”

A laugh rumbled deep in Colt’s chest. Lena was close enough to feel the vibrations and found an answering smile touch her lips.

“I suppose it would be an adventure. How much work could it possibly be? We’re here …” His voice trailed off. Even he seemed reluctant to turn around immediately and leave. And considering what an ordeal it had been to get here, Lena didn’t blame him. The thought of getting back on a plane right now was not appealing. Especially when she had sandy beaches and a crystal-clear sea stretching invitingly in front of her.

Marcy’s relieved smile was hard to miss. “I guess the only question that remains—since you insist that you’re not a couple—is can the two of you pull off looking like honeymooners for the cameras?”

“Please. I’ve spent most of my adult life behind the camera, plotting angles and setting up shots. I think I can handle being in front of it.”

Without any warning, Colt grasped Lena’s upper arm and spun her around to face him. She wobbled a little, until his arms around her body steadied her. What was he doing?

Laughter still lingered in the back of his bright green eyes. A soft smile touched his mouth, curving his lips even as they parted, moved closer. Lena found her own lips drifting apart. What was she doing?

He bent her backward over his arm, making the room and her equilibrium tilt. His mouth claimed hers in a devastating kiss. She had a moment of shock when her body went rigid, but it was quickly overwhelmed by a radiating warmth that melted through her bones.

He didn’t devour her as some men had a habit of doing. He gently persuaded her to open to him, constant pressure and reassurance that he wouldn’t push beyond what she was comfortable giving.

After several seconds … or maybe minutes, he slowly, smoothly, pulled her back upright and let her go. The world tilted around her for a few seconds.

Her lungs burned. She took a deep breath to fill them back up again, but instead of the tropical scent permeating the lobby, all she could smell now was Colt. A masculine scent that always made her think of sandalwood.

What the hell had just happened?

“Satisfied?” Colt’s voice was smooth and poised. Unaffected. While Lena wasn’t sure she could actually form coherent words. She blinked, trying to clear her vision and the shift her world had taken.

She’d always known he was a good kisser. While he never kept a girl around long, she’d had occasion to mingle with a few of his conquests. They’d always been quick to sing his praises, as if they had some shared knowledge. No one ever believed her when she said they’d never slept together.

Marcy arched an eyebrow, pursed her lips and considered them for several seconds. “I suppose that settles that. Welcome to Escape.”

3

WHY HAD HE KISSED HER?

It had seemed like a harmless thing to do at the time—take a little dig at Marcy and show her she had nothing to worry about—right up until the moment his lips had touched Lena’s. He’d expected it to be light, quick, unimportant. Somehow between the idea and the execution, it had all gone wrong. Instead of something theatrical, he’d found himself really kissing her.