Jeanne followed Asia’s progress down the path with a panther gaze. “In the room, hm? Are you fucking her? Is that your taste? No taste? Because that girl has got shit for taste.”
“Sharing a room doesn’t automatically mean fucking,” he said, his tone cold. “I think more of her than that.”
Tracing her teeth with her tongue, she flicked open a gold locket on one of the charm bracelets and scooped out a pinch of white powder with her nail. “Do you know how good it feels when I fuck your brains out and slam this finger up your ass just when you shoot your cum into my cunt?”
Her crassness may be a turn-on for some of the men around here, but he found it repulsive. “Sorry, sweetheart.” He put the empty glass in the sink and wiped the counter. “Your dirty talk doesn’t do it for me.”
She huffed. “No? Then what does? Sweet talking?”
“I don’t make a habit of insulting women, but since you don’t seem to get the message, I’ll repeat it for you.” Leaning closer, he lowered his voice, “You’re not my type.”
“That’s a pity.” She brought her nail to her nose and sniffed the powder. “I bet sweet little Asia is.” Taking her drink, she got to her feet and said sweetly, “See you around.”
The uneasiness that wouldn’t let him go grew as he watched her walk off toward the small group that had gathered around Juan. He couldn’t deny Jeanne’s accusation. He did find Asia hot and attractive. He was all too aware of her as a woman. If she hadn’t been his rival in the crazy bet to win the lease for the bar, he would’ve asked her out on the morning he’d first set eyes on her. Asia wasn’t safe, and it was his fault that she was here. If anything happened to the lass, he’d never forgive himself. Damn Cain for putting them in this situation. Sean was supposed to talk to the guests and get info about Godfrey, not worry about a sweet little kitten who’d been thrown into a lion’s den.
He rubbed his sore neck muscles. As soon as his work was finished tonight, he’d convince Asia to leave the island.
Of course Asia had asked to be moved to a different room, but nothing else was available. She was stuck with Sean Rivers, an arrogant mood cocktail specialist hunk with a Scottish drawl and a rumbling voice that made her stomach flip over. Nobody had ever stood up for her the way he had at the bar. She couldn’t stop thinking about Juan’s face as he’d looked at her while his wife had been standing right next to him. Ugh. That was creepy, not to mention disgusting. Despite feeling tired, she couldn’t fall asleep.
She was still awake at three in the morning when Sean finally got back to their room. She lay under the sheet in the dark, opening her eyes on slits and not uttering a chirp as he entered through the door and paused by the chair next to his bed to pull off his T-shirt. He threw it over the chair back and turned to the open sliding door that exited onto their veranda. His chiseled back shone in the light of the moon. Even in the dark, his body was a piece of art.
He spoke toward the sea, not looking back at her. “You should lock the door when you’re alone.”
“I could’ve been sleeping,” she said with annoyance at being caught out.
“You’re not.”
She opened her eyes wide. “How can you tell?”
“Your breathing.” Uttering a sigh, he said, “Lock the door when I’m not here. That’s what the key is for.”
“The room was stuffy. I left the door open to let in the breeze.” She turned on her side and rested her head in her hand. Taking in the rigid line of his back and shoulders, she asked, “Tough night?”
He faced her slowly. The shadow of the palm tree that fell over the veranda hid his expression, but tension radiated from his body as he walked to his bed and sat down on the edge. The strained atmosphere and less-than-ideal situation didn’t prevent her from noticing his well-defined chest and perfectly cut abs. Another formula was inked on his left pec. What was up with the formulas? He didn’t strike her as a science geek.
“You have to leave,” he said in a low voice.
This again? She sat up, not bothered that the sheet dropped to her waist as she was wearing cotton shorts and a T-shirt. “Is this going to be your strategy? Is this how you intend on winning the bet? Just how stupid do you take me for?”
“It’s long since about something other than the bet, and you know it,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Oh, yes? Why don’t you enlighten me?”