Sunburn (4 page)

He didn’t want to know what lingered in that awful mire of blackness. Didn’t care.

He breathed in deeply and focused on refilling his blender with ice until the sound of clicking heels caught his attention. It was such an unusual noise at poolside, he looked up.

Apollo did a double take. It was her. Patience. The sweaty one who despised him. She was once again accompanied by her two skinny friends.

She wasn’t sweaty now.

He stared, the oddest sensation in his gut. He didn’t know why. The woman was clearly antisocial. Why, she’d almost jumped down his throat when he’d offered her a welcome drink. Bizarre. Of course, he’d figured out she was The Travel Chick. He’d known it immediately. What he didn’t understand was why she already oozed irritation.

Not that he cared.

He dragged his gaze away from Patience, but then dragged it right back. For some reason, his gaze didn’t want to leave her vicinity. He felt that same rumble in his stomach, a rumble that had nothing to do with hunger. At least, not hunger for food.

What in Hades is this?

He stared at Patience, swallowing at the sight. Her pretty face was pinched, and he could tell it wasn’t because the sun was in her eyes. He could read the thoughts flying through her head.

Ohmigod, what was I thinking? I’m too fat for this damn bathing suit!

She wasn’t fat at all. She was worthy of a portrait by Rubens. Oh, she did have curves, but they were nothing to sneer at. And they were on full display today, even though she appeared mortified to be displaying them.

She was wearing a tiny bikini, barely three triangles of bright orange fabric joined by the skimpiest of strings. Her brown waves were pulled into a ponytail and trailed over one shoulder. She was wobbling again, wearing those silly heels she couldn’t walk in. Despite those heels, the picture was still making his mouth water. His gaze trailed over the soft curves of her body. Her breasts were full and luscious, practically spilling out of her bikini top. She’d crossed her arms, clearly in an effort to hide her boobs, but that only succeeded in deepening her already ample cleavage. Her hips were gorgeous and round, no sharp bones jutting out, unlike her friends’ figures. All softness. And he noticed, as his eyes fluttered, she had a sweet, little belly. Not big, but enough roundness there that her bikini bottom was cutting into it, creating a sexy pocket of womanly flesh. Light-headed, he realized it was the sort of belly he could lose himself in. The sort he loved kissing and sucking.

So help him, he’d never liked bony girls. He loved them full and buxom. This Patience took the cake on buxom.

The women put their belongings on deck chairs. When she almost toppled over in her heels, he suppressed a smile. She should just take those heels off. Her feet were pretty enough that she could walk barefoot. It certainly wouldn’t detract from the beauty of her legs.

Not that he was in any way entranced by the sight of her bare legs.

The women talked for a moment, and the redhead walked away in search of nachos from the poolside snack bar. As the blonde one rummaged in her bag, she pointed at his bar, indicating Patience should get drinks for all of them. Patience looked in his direction and his stomach sounded again. She frowned, said a few words to her friend, and then stared at him. Looking as if she were about to walk the plank in a bad pirate movie.

She doesn’t like me. Shit, Zeus! When you gave me the ability to see, couldn’t you have given me the ability to see the whole freaking picture?

He shrugged, more to himself than anyone else. He didn’t need her to like him. Enough women liked him as it was.

They were trouble anyway, the whole lot of them. Good enough for filling the void in his bed when he felt lonely, but nothing more. Still, he had to be nice to her or she’d write a bad review.

Deciding he should go to her instead, he picked up his bar tray and headed in her direction. All he needed was for her to trip on those stiletto heels next to the pool and write about it in her stupid blog, blaming the hotel for slippery deck conditions.

She sat, realizing he was coming. As he approached, he glimpsed two other men approaching as well. Dark-haired dudes with Speedos so tiny they could have belonged on a toddler.

Patience noticed their approach. In his head, Apollo heard her groan. As much as she disliked him, she clearly disliked those guys more.

He was almost at her lounger. She whipped off her heels and rushed over to him, a strange look in her eye.

“This is going to make me sound like a maniac,” she whispered, “but please,
please
, just go along with me for a minute!”

“Uh, okay.”

Apollo darted a look at the other men, who were almost upon them. When he glimpsed the lascivious look in their eyes, a look trained on Patience’s bikini-clad ass, he was shocked at the territorial feeling that rushed up inside. He tossed his bar tray on a vacant lounger and looked at her, confused.

She pasted on a dazzling smiled and reached for him. In a louder-than-necessary voice, she said, “Baby! You found me!”

What the flying fuck is she talking about?

Her eyes creased in stifled panic. “Please,” she murmured. And then she used her loud voice again. “You’re such a sight for sore eyes.”

The men in the Speedos stopped where Patience’s friend was sitting and just watched them. She was waiting for a response from him. What the hell was he supposed to say?

“Pretend you’re my boyfriend,” she pleaded on a whisper.

He couldn’t stop his eyes from popping.
Pretend?
He couldn’t pretend anything. He was the fricking god of truthfulness! With a swallow, he decided he’d better make a go of it. She was clearly trying to escape those other men, and for some strange reason he didn’t want her anywhere near them.

Okay. Here goes nothing.

He allowed his face to reflect the lust he was already feeling in her presence, and let his gaze caress her body. He raised his voice so the men would hear it. “You took so long, baby. I’ve been waiting for you all morning. It’s been torture.”

“Baby?” Where did that come from?
And why didn’t my words feel like a lie?

Perhaps because, without realizing it, he had been waiting for her to appear.

What now? What would a boyfriend do?

A boyfriend would touch her.
Shit
.

If he touched her, he’d see things again. Would see that darkness again, maybe more. But her face was creased with such plaintiveness, he couldn’t let her down.

Well, in for a penny, in for a pound.

With the men watching, Apollo smiled and opened his arms, ignoring her suddenly shell-shocked expression.

“Hang on,” she began.

Not letting her finish, still with the other dudes watching in amazement, he pulled her into a tight embrace, running his hands all over her tense body. Intent on putting on a good show, Apollo ran his hand down her trembling back, down to her fleshy ass, giving it two good squeezes.

Gonads of a Titan! She felt good.

As Patience opened her mouth to squeal, he cut off the noise with his own mouth, kissing her savagely. He slid his tongue into her open mouth as if he’d done so hundreds of times before, as if he really was her boyfriend. She stiffened, her eyes big and wild. But as he let his tongue play with hers, she eventually relaxed into his touch, as if she understood what he was doing for her. As if she somehow knew this was his way of helping her.

As if she liked it.

Her squeaks of protest quickly turned into soft mewls of delight. Her tongue melted into his like a tongue that hadn’t been loved in years and needed it. She rested one hand on his shoulder and caressed his face with her other hand.

His cock beat against the inside of his cargo shorts.
Damn
.

When the Speedo men finally clapped their jaws shut, Apollo slowly ended the kiss, taking time to nibble at her lip for good measure. He smiled into her face and she grinned back. Her eyes were the most unusual color. Such a light brown they were the color of melted caramel.

So odd. Sort of sweet. They were kind eyes.

He swallowed and once again spoke loudly enough for the men to hear every word. “You look so gorgeous in that swimsuit, baby. I could eat you up.”

She offered him a demure, teasing smile and batted her eyelashes. “You big lug. You’ll have to wait until later.”

Apollo snuck a glance at the two men. Shaking their heads, mystified, they engaged Patience’s blonde friend in conversation.

Job well done. He smiled at his pretend girlfriend, impressed with his handiwork.

He released his hold on Patience, whose face now screwed up in a funny mélange of aborted lust and withheld fury. She spoke in a whisper. “If you ever touch me again, you crazy pervert, I’ll sue your drunken ass.”

“I was only doing what you asked. You told me to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

She chewed on her words, as if unsure of what to say next. “Oh, well, I didn’t think you’d be such a good actor!”

Grinning, as if she were trying to maintain her composure, Patience wobbled away. Which was funny because she was no longer wearing her heels. She rushed off to meet her redheaded friend as the woman returned with a heaping plate of nachos. She talked to the redhead in an animated fashion, and the redhead’s jaw dropped. Patience then plunked herself on her deck chair and crossed her arms, ignoring the Speedo men who were still hovering. Then she looked over at him and scowled.

Defeated, Apollo turned back to the bar. As luck would have it, Artemis was there, staring at him as if she’d witnessed the whole spectacle. She rolled her eyes, shook her head, and walked away.

Dammit. Now his sister would be sticking her nose into his business, asking why he was playing Romeo with the customers.

He took his place back at the bar, wondering why he felt so funny, and so angry, that Patience hadn’t understood. He wasn’t able to contemplate it for long. Within seconds, another vision seared through his mind’s eye, making him reel. The same vision he’d been having for weeks. The woman having her heart plucked out by an unfeeling demon.

Only this time, the woman had a face. The same face as the indignant woman he’d just kissed. Patience’s face.

He stared at her, bracing himself on the bar, his knuckles white. Someone wanted to kill The Travel Chick.

* * * *

“I can’t believe he just did that,” Patience muttered, once the two men wandered off to get their own nachos. She yanked her notebook out of her beach bag and fished around in the bag for a pen, intending to note some more observations of the resort. Observations that included her unwanted encounter with the lascivious, lime-in-the-coconut bartender. Unable to think straight, she threw the whole shebang back in her bag. “Seriously, who does that?”

Angie was still dumbstruck. She whispered, “Patience, you did ask him to pretend to be your boyfriend.”

“Yeah, but…”

Angie continued. “And anyway, have you had a good look at that man? I swear you are on the hit list of every woman around this pool right now.” She leaned over and gave Patience’s arm a rub. “I’m proud of you.”

“I didn’t
do
anything! He just kissed me. And pawed me, the big animal.”

“Relax,” Doris said, tipping her straw hat over her eyes and leaning back in her lounger. “You needed a good grope. You haven’t been with anyone since Foster, that asswipe. Eet’s time to get back in the game.”

Foster. She hadn’t heard his name out loud for some time, no matter how many times it sliced through her head. Feeling the familiar tremor of fear and disappointment in herself, she quickly shelved the memory. She blinked and put her sunglasses on, worried her eyes would betray her. At the thought of him, she pulled on her bangs, smoothing them over her forehead, willing the fear to go away. “I’m not ready.”

Her friends recognized the crack in her voice. They both leaned over and put an arm around her shoulders.

Angie said, “We’re not trying to rush you, but maybe you just need to let loose a little bit. It’s been two years, sweetie. You’re allowed to have fun.”

Doris nodded. “Not every man is Foster. He was made of pig shit and smelled like eet too.”

Patience exploded into quiet giggles. Doris never failed to amuse her with funny descriptions of her ex-fiancé. Her friends might drive her crazy, but they were loyal to a fault. Of course, they’d been the ones who found her that day and brought her to the hospital. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “He was made of pig shit.”

“Good girl.” Doris purred, smiling.

“Now,” Angie said, wiping at her own moist eyes. “On to more important matters. How did blondie kiss?”

Patience looked toward the bar where the blond bartender was staring back with an expression of thinly veiled horror. Great. Clearly her kiss had put the fear of God into him.

“Well?” Doris prompted. “Did he give good tongue?”

Patience touched her still-burning lips. He’d given good everything. His lips had fit against hers perfectly. His tongue had tasted wonderful, like … light. It had moved so expertly with hers, like a dance. And when he’d grabbed her ass, she’d had to clench. Just that one touch had almost made her come, which would have been embarrassing surrounded by everyone at the pool. She would have had to crawl back to her room.

Oh, it had been a good kiss, all right. One whose memory she’d no doubt be revisiting that night with her vibrator. She might not be ready for a relationship, but she was still capable of being turned on. In a way, it was a relief to see.

“It was okay,” she replied, not wanting to excite her friends. After all, no matter how sexy the bartender was, he was still a beach bum, and she wasn’t looking for love. She’d had enough excitement to last her a lifetime with Foster.

“Well,” Angie said, nodding toward the Speedo-clad men as they approached once more. “If you don’t like the bartender, there’s always Claude and Gilles.”

Patience stifled a groan. “Oh, why won’t they just go away?”

They’d made the acquaintance of Claude Lenoir and Gilles Trudeau on the plane. Patience had been stuck sitting with them. The two Frenchmen were currently in the middle of a world tour. And they were the only men in the world, aside from blondie, who’d recently tried it on with Patience.