Yes, she screamed in her head. Yes.
When she exploded, he came with her, filling her up.
He stayed there, buried deep, until her heart rate returned to normal. When he moved to shift away, she tangled her fingers in his. "Stay."
His grin was quick and easy. "Okay."
She snuggled right into him and nearly drifted off, but she needed to put her hair up if she was going to look presentable the next day without an hour of styling time.
"What?" he mumbled. She wasn't the only one who'd slipped into drowsy post-sex mode.
"I have to do my hair," she whispered.
"I love your hair. It's perfect."
She laughed. "It'll be awful in the morning if I don't put it up."
He gave her a weird look. "Did you do that when you were staying in the tent?"
"No." She blushed. "You saw the wild child version of me, I guess."
"I like both sides." He kissed her cheek. "Can I watch?"
Her cheeks grew hotter. "Me do my hair?"
"Yeah."
"You're weird."
"And you're fascinating."
"Sure, I guess."
He followed her into the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, talking about nothing and everything while she sectioned off her curls, treated the ends with a coconut oil and shea butter mixture Daphne made her, then twisted them into loose, braided mini buns and pinned them in place.
Mick was mid-sentence, telling her about his preferred mountain climbing gear of all the random things, when he trailed off.
"What?" she asked around a mouthful of bobby pins.
"Any chance I could get you to wear a gold bikini?"
She laughed and all the bobby pins bounced into the sink. "Princess Leia fantasy?"
"You didn't see that coming?"
She wiped her eyes. Oh good Lord. What a typical man. She pressed her lips together. It just so happened that she did have a gold bikini tucked in her dresser. "I'll see what I can do."
He gave her a pleased wink and she stuck her tongue out at him.
"Now let me finish this, and then … " she sighed. "I really do have to get to bed."
"I know." He reached out and caught her back the nape of her neck, and slowly tugged her toward him. Her hair half-up, the rest flying sideways, she must look awful. But he only had eyes for her, not her hair or anything else, as he kissed her softly. "I'll get going."
"No," she said quickly. "Stay. Tonight. We'll say goodbye in the morning."
"You sure?"
She nodded.
"Deal. And then I'm going to get out of your hair for a bit, for real. I've got a friend in the Florida Keys. Finn. They have a canine training facility and we might have them involved in our executive retreats at some point, so … "
"You're leaving?"
"Just for a couple days." He brushed his lips against hers. "But I like the way you worry about that."
She thumped him lightly on the chest, then hugged him tight. "One week. That's all I need."
"Good. It's probably all I could give you."
SIXTEEN
SINCE SHE WAS ADAMANT ABOUT NOT WANTING ANY HELP, Mick kissed Cara goodbye and watched her drive off the next morning, knowing he wouldn't see her for a week. He wasn't even going back to the estate to pack his bag. He had his passport and his wallet. He didn't need anything else-except a plane ticket to Florida.
His first stop of the day was the internet cafe. He needed to book a flight and send a couple of long emails.
When he arrived, the only other customers were two teenagers gaming at the back of the shop, but as he was getting a second cup of the truly excellent coffee, the door chimed and in walked a pretty, curvy woman with chunky blonde hair-a woman he might not have noticed quite so much if she hadn't stopped and stared at him.
He lifted his cup in greeting and sat back down at his computer.
In his peripheral vision, he saw her move slowly to the counter, then lean with her back against it. Watching him.
He wasn't surprised in the least when, after she got her own cup of coffee, she sat down across from him.
"You're Mick," she said.
"I am."
"I'm Daphne."
Ah. One of the friends. "Nice to meet you."
"Is it?" She arched one eyebrow.
He resisted the urge to laugh. "Sure. Any friend of Cara's is a friend of mine."
"I don't trust you." She crossed her arms.
He shrugged. "That's fair. You don't know me."
"You seem slick."
"I'm anything but. You want slick, you want my friend Will. Now he's-"
"Are you going to steal the plantation and break Cara's heart?"
He took a sip of coffee as he appraised her. She was awfully pissed off for so early in the morning. And he had no clue what she knew-and it wasn't his place to really fill in the gaps. Except for the second point. "I'm going to do my damnedest not to hurt Cara, and she knows that."
"What about the plantation?"
"That's complicated, and entirely out of my control."
An uncertain look flickered across her face. "That sounds like a line, I gotta say."
He shrugged again. "I can't do much about that. It's not a line. I'm just a guy who was sent here to get construction permits."
"And how's that going?"
"Not well, thanks for asking," he said dryly as he leaned back in his chair. Clearly he wasn't getting back to his emails any time soon.
"So what are your intentions toward my best friend?"
No more glib answers. Not to that question. He considered it thoughtfully, because this was important to get right. Other than Cara's mother, all she had in this world was the bond with her friends. This woman was, for all intents and purposes, her sister.
On the other hand … "Cara and I haven't had this conversation yet."
"I can keep a secret."
He snorted. "Okay."
"No." Daphne set her cup down and leaned forward over the empty half of the table. "Really. I just … she's not tough. Not in matters of the heart. She doesn't have a lot of experience. And if you're using her-"
Jesus. "I'm not. I swear to you, Crazy Blonde Girl, I'm not going to hurt her. I already told you that."
"The name is Daphne."
"Crazy Blonde Girl seems to fit at the moment. Did you follow me here from her place this morning?"
She blinked at him. "You stayed at her place?"
"Nice innocent routine."
She scowled. "I really just came here to get online. I live on a boat. No wi-fi."
"Likely story."
"Whatever."
Had he really gotten in a snapping match with one of Cara's best friends? He took a deep breath and tried again. "Okay … Daphne. What can I say here to convince you I'm really just a guy, sitting an internet cafe, trying to book a plane ticket to Florida? Not plotting any evil seduction plans to ruin your friend's life."
"You're leaving?"
"I'm coming back."
Doubt practically dripped off her as she shifted in her chair. "Tell me you understand how important the island's history is to Cara."
"I do. That's why I'm getting out of her hair for a little bit. We're … We may have just met, but I have strong feelings for her. And that's a distraction she doesn't need right now."
"Why?"
He winced. "That's for her to tell you. But she's got a lot to do the next few days."
Daphne shoved back from the table. She couldn't be more than a few inches over five feet, but she still looked fierce. "What happened?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. Yet."
She spun on her heel and ran out the door, and Mick closed his eyes with a groan. Not the right impression to make on her best friend. Not by a long shot. And now he had no doubt she was going to run out to Villa Sucre and do exactly what Mick had promised Cara he wouldn't do: get in her way.
"SO … "
Cara turned around at the sound of her friend's voice behind her. Daphne stood in the doorway of the ballroom.
"Hey. So … .what?"
"So what the heck is going on?"
Cara shook her head, only half paying attention to her friend. She needed to itemize all the rare and historic elements used in the construction of this room. The original twelve-panel sash windows on the east-facing wall, for example-how many buildings on the island had those? "Ummm … " She stuck her pencil between her teeth and crouched down to look at the masonry around the fireplace. She hadn't had this assessed yet, but it might be original. She'd find a way to write that up, too.
"Cara!"
"What?" She stood and turned around. "Sorry, Daph, I'm just in the middle of something. Hi."
"What are you in the middle of?"
So ignoring the question wasn't going to work. "I'm making a report about the property for the board of directors."
Daphne frowned. "In the middle of the project?"