Do Not Disturb (23 page)

“
You? You’re
Honor Palmer?” For once Lucas was lost for words.

“Last time I checked,” said Honor witheringly.

If it hadn’t been for those distinct, slanting emerald eyes and ridiculously jutting cheekbones, he wouldn’t have recognized the stunning creature in front of him as the bedraggled, flatchested child-woman from the beach. The transformation was so dramatic he had trouble stopping himself from staring. Even without the va-va-voom dress and spiky, S and M stilettos, with her short, slicked-back hair and predatory expression, she had a violent, traffic-stopping sexual presence that he wondered how on earth he could have missed before. He must have been more distracted than he’d thought.

“Have you two already met?” Devon, appearing at Honor’s other side, eyed Lucas suspiciously. He had a natural distrust of younger, more attractive men.

“Unfortunately, yes.” Honor glared at Lucas, who glared back.

OK, so she was fuckable, but she was still macho as hell, exactly the sort of strident, pushy American woman he loathed. A man in woman’s clothing, this time anyway. Give him Lola Carter’s soft, curvaceous femininity any day of the week.

“It turns out Mr. Ruiz is the rude man from the beach. The one I told you about the other night.”

Devon shot Honor a warning look, but she missed it completely. Lucas, being a much older hand at adultery, caught it at once.

Well, well, well. Mr. Up-His-Own-Ass Carter and Honor Butter-Wouldn’t-Melt Palmer were sleeping together. He’d put money on it.

“You know.” Honor was annoyed now, willing Devon to remember. “The asshole who wouldn’t help me find Caleb? I
told
you.”

“I was on a business call,” Lucas shrugged, not looking remotely apologetic. “It wasn’t a good time for me.”

“Not a good time? My dog was drowning, and I was soaked to the bone!” Honor spluttered with drunken rage. “You didn’t even offer me your umbrella, you selfish, self-important…”

“Honor, please. Don’t upset yourself.” Devon gave her another meaningful “for God’s sake, shut up” look, but it was too late. The wheels in Karis’s head had belatedly begun whirring into life. She turned to Honor.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “But did you just say you told Devon about this the other night?”

“Uh-huh,” said Honor. Then, finally realizing the minefield she’d inadvertently wandered into, she blushed crimson and tried to backtrack. “Well, kind of. I…well, I er…” she stammered.

Karis looked accusingly at her husband. “But didn’t you tell me this morning that you hadn’t seen Honor since the funeral? I’m sure you did.”

Devon went white.

Lucas, meanwhile, was starting to enjoy himself. It was fun watching the smug, self-righteous WASP Carter squirming on his wife’s line like a maggot.

“I meant I hadn’t seen her
properly
,” blustered Devon.

He might be a raging hypocrite but he had nerve, Lucas would give him that. He looked Karis right in the eye when he spoke to her.

“We did run into one another at the coffee shop the other day, though. Very briefly.”

“The other
night
.” Honor corrected him hurriedly. “Remember? It was in the evening. Like I said.”

“That’s right,” said Devon, nodding his agreement. “And you told me about what happened at the beach earlier in the day.”

Nice save, thought Lucas, although it pained him to admire anything about Honor, however fleetingly. This was the woman who’d betrayed her own father, after all, not to mention all the lies she’d spread about him in the press. She was the enemy, and he couldn’t afford to forget it.

“I must say,” said Devon, turning on Lucas in a blatant attempt to deflect the heat away from himself. “It did sound as though you acted somewhat less than chivalrously.”

“Oh?” said Karis, falling for the switcheroo and transferring her attention to Lucas like an obedient puppy. “What happened?”

Lucas despaired. The woman obviously had the attention span of a gnat and the insight to match. How could she not see what her husband was up to? He and his girlfriend had just given themselves away right in front of her!

“Nothing,” he said brusquely. “Nothing happened. Miss Palmer here was unable to control her pet, that’s all. Which is hardly my fault.”

Devon’s relief at having put Karis off the scent began to fade when he looked at Honor’s face. She was clearly about to launch into a full-scale row with Lucas and was more than drunk enough to let more indiscretions slip.

“Come on, darling.” Grabbing a very reluctant Karis’s hand—she enjoyed a good melodrama—he dragged her away. “This is between Lucas and Honor. I think we should let the pair of them talk in private.”

As soon as they’d gone, Honor jumped right back on the offensive.

“So,” she glowered at Lucas. “Leaving a girl to catch hypothermia while you take care of yourself—that’s considered acceptable behavior in Spain, is it? Very gentlemanly, I must say.”

“Oh, on the contrary,” said Lucas suavely. He wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of rising to the bait. “Spanish men consider it of great importance to show courtesy toward women. But then our women would not go out running half dressed with their nipples showing through their T-shirts, pestering men who were trying to work.”

“They’d be back home in the kitchen, baking cakes, I suppose?” said Honor, coloring. Had her nipples really been showing?

“That’s right,” he said, smiling. It was so easy to wind her up. “Or making themselves beautiful for their husband’s return. Spanish women know how to be feminine.”

“You’re a fucking dinosaur,” said Honor contemptuously. “I’m gonna enjoy wiping the floor with you next year. How’re your prebookings coming along, by the way?”

“Very well, thank you,” lied Lucas. But Honor saw the way the smug smile had died on his lips.

“Really?” she said. “I’m real curious to know what big names you’ve managed to convince to spend their vacation under the stars on your building site.”

“We’ll be built by Christmas, and open for business by this time next year,” said Lucas, with a confidence he wished to God he actually felt. “So please, try not to worry your pretty little head about our clientele. In any case, we won’t be going after the wheelchair market—we’ll leave that for you over at Palmers. Assuming your rickety old building hasn’t given up the ghost before then, of course.”

“Fuck you,” snarled Honor.

OK, so it wasn’t the most sophisticated of comebacks, but after so many cocktails it was the best she could manage. At least it came from the heart.

Lucas took a step forward, until he was so close that Honor could smell the faint lemony musk of his aftershave. For the first time she got a sense of how powerfully built he was. On the
beach she’d focused on his face, then his rudeness—she’d kind of bypassed his body. But now she could see he must be twice Devon’s size, at least; a real meathead. How appropriate.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he whispered.

“Like what?”

“To fuck me,” said Lucas, deadpan.

Honor tried to laugh in his face, but he was making her so nervous it came out as a sort of weird yelp.

Stretching out his hand, Lucas slowly traced a line down her bare forearm with his finger, making the rows of downy hair stand on end, like a swathe of ripened corn.

“Sorry to disappoint you,” he smiled, “but I’m not attracted to ball breakers. You’d do better to stick with your Sugar Daddy Carter.”

Honor felt her stomach lurch. Belatedly, she pushed him away.

“What do you mean?” she asked, sharply. “What do you mean by that? Devon’s a family friend. Nothing more.”

“Whatever you say,” said Lucas.

“Listen!” fumed Honor. But before she could say another word, Lucas had turned on his heel and strode off down the corridor.

Waiting at the front door for the maid to arrive with his coat, he felt a tap on the back.

“Hey, you.” It was Lola, looking even sexier than she had earlier, now that her eye makeup was smudged and her long red hair slightly tousled, presumably from dancing up a storm. “Sneaking off without saying good-bye? That’s not very polite.”

Lucas smiled. “Sorry. Things were getting a little heated in there between Honor and me. I figured it was best I left.”

“Best for who?” pouted Lola. The next minute the maid had materialized with Lucas’s coat. Seconds later the valet drew up outside with his truck.

Vaulting up into the driver’s seat, he wound down the window. “I’m sure we’ll see each other around,” he said. It wouldn’t do to sound too eager.

Wordlessly, Lola walked over and, leaning in through the window, kissed him lingeringly on the lips. Lucas felt his dick harden and his resolve soften, but she pulled away before he had a chance to do something he’d regret.

“I leave for Boston in the morning,” she said, heading back toward the house. “But I’ll be back in the summer. Just in case you were wondering.”

Driving home along the beach, Lucas let his mind wander back over the evening. Meeting Lola had been the high point, definitely. But it was his fight with Honor that really stuck with him. There was no doubt he’d come off better than she had—and yet the encounter had left him with an oddly bitter taste in his mouth.

How could she be attracted to that pompous old fossil, Carter? He didn’t know why, but the thought of Honor and Devon in bed together made his blood boil.

On the other hand, an affair was a potential Achilles’ heel for Honor, one he might be able to use to his advantage in the future.

Perhaps he wouldn’t fire Lucy after all.

I
T WAS
J
UNE
, fourteen months after Karis Carter’s birthday party, and forty-five miles away Sian Doyle was packing for her eagerly anticipated summer job at Palmers. Holding up two bikinis, one pink and tiny, the other blue and even tinier, she waved them questioningly in front of her best friend.

“So? C’mon, Taneesha. Which one?”

“I dunno.” Stretching her long ebony legs out in front of her, Taneesha wiggled her newly painted toes luxuriantly. “Both?”

She should have known when she agreed to help Sian pack for the Hamptons that it would take an entire afternoon and that every single decision would have to be debated, right down to the panties and socks.

“It’s not like they take up much room. Your case is practically empty. Anyway, forget about swimwear. Have you seen this guy?” Holding a copy of
Vogue
open at a double-page spread about the newly opened Herrick, she flashed a picture of Lucas, shirtless and in drawstring linen pants on the beach, staring moodily out to sea. “Marlon Brando, eat your heart out!”

“Yes, I’ve seen it,” said Sian. “It’s my magazine. But Neesh, seriously. Which one? I have a ton of reading to bring, remember?” She gestured to the wall behind her, on which a wobbly set of Ikea shelves groaned under the weight of more books than the
Bergen County Library.
Journalism Today. Media Studies in the New York Area. “Missing in Action”: A war reporter’s story
. “Only half the space is for clothes.”

Taneesha sighed. Sian had been obsessed with becoming a reporter ever since watching
Superman
at the age of eight. In fact, the two girls had seen the movie together, having been inseparable best friends since second grade. Competitive as hell, in everything from sports to academic studies to boys, they remained closer than close. If it hadn’t been for their all-too-obvious physical differences (Taneesha was black, with the body of a sprinter and beaded plaits streaming down her back like the jeweled tail of a kite, while Sian was so pale she was practically translucent) they might almost have been sisters. “You know, you’re not gonna have time to read half that shit,” said Taneesha, who couldn’t see the point of taking a semester’s worth of reading material on a working vacation to the Hamptons. “Hotel work is hard. Trust me, I know. I’ve been there.”

Sian rolled her eyes. “Three weekends washing dishes at the W hardly makes you the world’s expert.”

Ignoring her, Taneesha began reading aloud from Lucas’s interview.

“Listen to this:
With his movie-star good looks, Anton Tisch’s achingly hip Spanish protégé is shaking up the stuffy denizens of East Hampton. As the manager of the newest and coolest Tischen hotel, the Herrick, I met him in midpreparation for the much-hyped June tenth opening party.
Hey, June tenth, that’s tonight. Too bad you won’t be there in time.”