Page 15 of Six Nights in Paradise

Oblivious to my inner turmoil, she continued to eat her soup, making little sounds of pleasure every so often. This was going to be one of the most uncomfortable dinners of my life if she didn’t stop. Mercifully, she ate her orange roughy mostly in silence. We polished off the wine during dessert, leaving us with nothing to occupy our mouths. Mine longed to taste hers.

“What do you want to do now?” Taylor asked.

“I don’t know. I didn’t have anything planned for after dinner.”

She gave me a coy smile and shook her head. “You don’t have to planeverything. We can do something spontaneous, you know,” she taunted.

“Like what?” I challenged, leaning forward and resting my elbows on the table, clasping my hands together.

She thought on that for a moment. “We could go back to that club,” she offered, and I bristled. “Or just go out for drinks,” she added quickly, noticing my reaction. “Somewhere a little more chill,” she elaborated. “We’re both dressed and ready for a night out. Might as well make the most of it.” Her voice and expression were so hopeful, I couldn’t have told her no if I wanted to. And I didn’t.

We ended up in a high-end lounge that was a ten-minute walk from our villa. On the way over, I found myself reaching for her hand only to pull back before we could touch. It just felt so natural to want to hold her, to entwine my fingers with hers.

A waitress in black pants and a white top that buttoned all the way to her throat took our drink order, returning minutes later with two glasses, one filled with Stella and the other, a brightly colored concoction I didn’t recognize. There was a group of people around our age lingering close by and we fell into easy conversation with them. They assumed Taylor and I were a couple, but I didn’t correct them. It was easier to let them believe that than it was to explain the circumstances surrounding our joint vacation. Before the night was over, we made plans to join them for dinner and a show two nights from then.

I stopped at two beers, but continued to order Taylor whatever she wanted. She was getting tipsy and it was actually kind of cute. She got very giggly and very affectionate. She would lean into my side, wrapping her arms around my bicep and giving it a squeeze every time she laughed. I enjoyed it far more than I should have. When it was time to bid our new friends goodbye, she hugged them all, even the guys. One of them lingered far too long, his hand resting lower on her back than was appropriate. I ground my teeth together to keep from telling him to take his fucking hands off her.

We stopped to check out a few more places we hadn’t yet visited before heading back to our villa. “I need to come back here earlier in the day so I can go shopping.” Taylor stared longingly into the display window at a little boutique. “Oh my gosh, I neeeed those shoes!” she gushed, pressing her hand to the glass. I let out a soft laugh and hooked an arm around her, gently steering her away and back onto the street.

“You can come back and check it out tomorrow.”

“Can I?” she asked, looking up at me with her big doe eyes.

In that moment, she looked so young and innocent, which made me feel even worse about all the salacious thoughts I’d been having about her. I released my steadying hold on her, pulling my hands away quickly like I’d been burned. She stumbled a bit and I prepared to catch her in case she fell, but she regained her balance easily. She was drunk, but not to the point of falling on her face and puking her guts out.

When we got back, I deposited Taylor in our bedroom and left quickly when she started to disrobe while I was still in the room. I shut the door behind me and went to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water and some pain relievers for her. She wasn’t there when I returned, but the bathroom door was shut and I could hear water running, so I left them on her nightstand. I turned the TV on in the living room and made myself comfortable. I’d be sleeping on the couch again tonight. Taylor was already being more touchy-feely than normal because of the alcohol, and with her inhibitions lowered, I didn’t want to take any chances and risk giving in to a temptation I wouldn’t be able to fight.

Taylor

My head felt a little fuzzy and there was a dull ache settling behind my eyes when I blinked them open. Sunlight poured in through the window and I pulled the blanket over my head to block it out. I wanted to just go back to sleep, but the bottle of water I chugged last night before passing out was pressing on my bladder insistently. Thank God Dalton had thought to bring it to me along with some medicine. I’d be in even worse shape if he hadn’t. At the thought of Dalton, I removed the cover from my face and glanced at the spot next to me. Empty.

My heart sank. He didn’t come to bed again last night. He was avoiding sleeping with me. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe we both needed a little space. I certainly needed to get my head on straight and stop fantasizing about him finally realizing he was madly in love with me and taking me to bed. I tiptoed into the main living area and saw Dalton curled up on the couch. He was most definitely too tall to be sleeping on it, but I wouldn’t let myself feel bad for his discomfort. He had a perfectly good king-sized bed to sleep in if he so chose. It was his own damn fault if he wanted to be scrunched up on the couch.

I grabbed another bottle of water from the fridge and quietly prepared a slice of toast. My stomach felt okay, but I wasn’t going to test the waters by putting anything too heavy on it after a night of drinking. After my simple breakfast, I brushed my teeth and washed my face before dressing in my favorite swimsuit. I’d purchased it just for this trip. It was a little skimpier than what I normally wore, but I’d always heard people were more relaxed and accepted the sight of a little more skin once you got outside the States.

I slipped into the Brazilian-cut bottoms and stood with my back to the full-length mirror, turning to look over my shoulder. It was a little out of my comfort zone to wear something like this, but I was pleased with how it looked. I typically worked out a few times a week and did hundreds of squats, so my butt was firm and round. The top was your average bikini top with thin straps, lined and slightly padded cups with underwire, and a back closure. I coated myself in sunscreen, grabbed my towel, and headed out to my lounger.

If Dalton wanted to join me when he woke up, he could, but I wasn’t going to go out of my way to get him out here. An hour later, he appeared at my side, dressed in board shorts and holding a white paper bag from the cafe down the street.

“Hungry?” he asked.

“Depends,” I responded playfully, and his lips quirked.

“On what?”

“Whatcha got in the bag?” I swung my legs around and sat up on the side of my chair. He opened it, the paper crinkling between his hands, and pulled out a beignet.

“Oooh, gimme!” I reached for it and he gave it up easily. “Mmm,” I moaned, devouring the powdered sugar covered ball of fluffy fried dough. Beignets were my favorite. Did he know that somehow, or was this a happy coincidence?

“Chocolate milk?” he asked as he held out a small sealed plastic bottle.

“Thank you.” It was like he read my mind.

We ate our sugar laden breakfast — my second breakfast — in silence. Once all the pastries and chocolate milk were gone, I offered to take all our trash inside and dispose of it. When I came back out, Dalton was spraying himself with sunscreen on the patio. I turned to shut the door behind me and heard him let out a low curse. Assuming he must have gotten some of the spray in his eyes, I turned quickly, ready to retrieve some water for him to flush it out. I wasn’t prepared for what greeted me instead. Dalton’s dark gaze seared into me, heating my skin. I shrank back into the corner of the patio as he stalked toward me.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” he growled, stopping only inches from me.

“What?”

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