Swing

Swing

ALSO BY OPAL CAREW

Twin Fantasies

OPAL CAREW

Swing

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, organizations, and events portrayed in this novel are either

products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

SWING. Copyright © 2007 by Elizabeth Batten-Carew. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or

reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations

embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin's Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York,

N.Y. 10010.

www.stmartins.com

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data

Carew, Opal. Swing / Opal Carew.— p. cm. ISBN-13: 978-1-4299-3127-4 ISBN-10: 1-4299-3127-2 1. Group sex—

Fiction. 2. Sex-oriented businesses—Fiction. 3. Resorts—Fiction. I.Title.

PR9199.4.C367S94 2008813'.6—dc22 2007038544

10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1

To the three special men in my life:

Mark

Matthew

Jason

Acknowledgments

Thank you to my wonderful editor, Rose Hilliard, who gave me the vision for this story and who helped me make

it the best book possible. Thank you to my agent, Emily Sylvan Kim, for helping me with a great many things so I

could stay focused and productive. Thank you to my sister-in-law, Colette, for your insight and enthusiasm.

Thanks to the members of ORWA (my local RWA chapter) for all your support. Thank you to my two sons, for

being so understanding and supportive about al the time I spend writing and sometimes traveling. Finally, thank

you to my husband, Mark, for being so incredibly supportive.

Swing

Chapter 1

"WOULD YOU COME TO A SWINGERS' CLUB WITH ME?" SHANE asked.

Melissa's stomach felt like it had dropped to her knees. She couldn't think of a single question he could have

asked that would have shocked her more.

As she stared at him in silence, he leaned toward her, candlelight glowing in his eyes. The clinking of cutlery and

plates, mel owed by the hum of conversation, swirled around them.

"Would you pretend to be my wife and come to a swingers' club with me?"

His repeating the words didn't make them any clearer. She just sat there and stared at him for a moment,

stunned. Finally, she realized there wasn't any more. No "April Fool's Day!" No "Boy, look at the expression on your face. I got you that time."

And to think, when she'd sensed the hesitation in his voice moments earlier, she'd been worried he was going to

ask her if she wanted to take their relationship to the next level. Not that she should have expected him to ask

such a question, but she realized now that a smal part of her had hoped that's where he'd been heading.

And that shocked her almost as much as his actual question.

Almost.

Für Elise chimed from her purse. Saved by the bell.

"That'll be Elaine. I had lunch with her and she asked me to babysit for a few days. She was going to call to

confirm dates. It'll just take a second."

And give her a moment to get her head together.

As Shane watched Melissa rummage around in her purse, he took a sip of his imported beer from the tall, gold-

rimmed glass. The aroma of fresh bread filled his nostrils as the waiter placed a basket of crusty rolls on the

table.

Melissa was a doting aunt to those kids and a regular mother hen to both her younger sisters, Elaine and Ginny.

Although both were grown women, Melissa stil felt she had to take care of them, as she had been doing since

she was sixteen when her mother had abandoned them.

Melissa flicked open the phone. "Hello?"

"Hi, sis. Oh, damn, that's the baby, can you hang on?" Elaine said.

"Sure, I'll wait."

As Melissa listened to the sounds of kids chattering and a baby crying on the other end of the line, she gazed at

Shane. Classically handsome with a boyish charm, his wide smile revealed straight, white teeth. Her gaze

caressed the broad line of his shoulders. Those shoulders could carry a lot of weight, and had certainly soaked

up a lot of her tears over the years. He always held her with such warmth, usual y in the brief hugs he gave her

in greeting, but sometimes longer, when he knew she was troubled or hurting.

Right now she could imagine her hands running over that solid, muscular form, imagine his strong arms sliding

around her, pulling her against his hard, masculine chest. Her gaze shifted back to his face . . . to his full, sexy

lips, imagining them capturing hers.

"Liss? Something wrong?"

Her face blossomed with heat as she realized Shane was staring at her.

"No, sorry, I just got . . . distracted."

He grinned. "I'd love to know where that serious mind of yours wandered off to, because I've never seen your

cheeks so red."

Her cheeks blazed hotter. She stroked her hair behind her ear and took a sip of her drink. "Well, never you mind.

A girl is allowed some secrets, even from her closest friends."

Melissa hoped he hadn't guessed what she'd been daydreaming about. This was the first time, since they'd met

at col ege, that they'd both been unattached at the same time while living in the same city. They'd gotten closer

than ever over the past few months, sometimes even joking that Shane was her surrogate boyfriend. If only he

knew how close that was to the truth. Melissa had always felt a flicker of attraction to him, but lately it had

spiraled into a full-blown crush.

Melissa's hand shifted to her neck to toy with the diamond heart necklace Shane had given her last Christmas.

She had struggled with accepting something so expensive, but Shane had insisted, pointing out that with the

money he had it was about the same, proportional y speaking, as her spending twenty-five dollars on a gift for

him, so it wouldn't be fair of her to turn it down.

"Sorry, sis, can I call you back?" Elaine asked, tiny Joey wailing in the background.

"Sure, that's fine." Melissa hung up the phone and laid it on the table. "She's going to cal back."

She tapped her fingers on the table.

"So this club . . ."

A swingers' club. He'd asked her to a swingers' club.

"It's like . . . wife swapping?" she continued.

"It's really a resort, not a club."

"But we're not even a couple. Why would you ask me to go somewhere like that?"

"Because I'm planning on buying the resort."

"What?"

Shane realized this was going better than he'd thought it would. At least she hadn't said no yet. He real y wanted

to experience the resort firsthand and he couldn't do that as a single male. Melissa was the only woman he

could reasonably ask to pose as his wife.

He could understand her surprise at his request. A few weeks ago, he would have been just as surprised as she

was—until he'd had that conversation with Geoff, a new member of his golf club. After a few rounds of drinks

and a long discussion about the low success rate of marriages today, Geoff had confided to Shane that he knew

the secret to a long and happy marriage. He'd handed Shane a card for a swingers' resort in St. Haven in the

British West Indies. Shane had been skeptical until Geoff pointed out that he and his wife had been going there

since it opened five years ago, and to local clubs before that, and they had been happily married for over twenty

years now.

Maybe this really was the secret to marital bliss. Who was Shane, with his multiply divorced parents, to decide

he knew better? And even if it wasn't, it could prove to be a great investment. Either way, he had nothing to

lose, and a great deal to gain.

"I think a place like this could allow couples to overcome the stagnation that occurs after years of sleeping with the same person and add enough spice and variety to their lives so that they could keep a happy and loving

marriage going. If my parents had gone somewhere like that, maybe they wouldn't have divorced." Shane

grabbed a rol and buttered it.

"I'm really not comfortable with the idea of going to a place like that."

"I understand, but there's an orientation session that al ows newbies to take a look around with no pressure to

join in the . . . activities. It'll only be five days, and you don't have to do anything you don't want to do."

She pursed her lips.

"It's really a beautiful spot. It's on a small island called St. Haven and it's—"

Her cell phone chimed again.

"Sorry, excuse me . . ." She flicked it open. "Uh-huh."

She grabbed her pocket calendar from her purse and flipped through the pages to April.

"The sixteenth? Yeah, that should be okay. How many days? Five."

She jotted some notes in her planner.

"Where is this place?" She glanced at Shane then made some more notes. "Uh-huh. Sounds nice. Okay, I'll talk to you Sunday."

She glanced at Shane. "What was the name of that island again?"

"St. Haven."

"And the resort? Is it cal ed The Sweet Surrender?"

"Yeah, how did you know?"

Her mouth compressed into a straight line. "Because that's where Elaine and Steve are going."

Melissa watched the road through the drizzle-coated windshield as the wipers whoosh ed back and forth.

Thoughts of Elaine and that . . . resort . . . bounced around her brain. How could Elaine have let Steve talk her

into going to a place like that?

Shane said he'd told Steve about his plans to buy the resort and that seemed to have given Steve ideas of his

own. Melissa knew Steve and Elaine had been having intimacy problems, but they just needed to balance their

love life with the kids. Granted, that wasn't easy with three young children, but going to a swingers' club was

definitely not the answer.

Elaine was rushing into something she didn't understand. Melissa's only chance of convincing her to change her

mind was to go to this place and learn as much as she could about it and about the kind of people who went

there. Faced with the facts, surely Elaine would see reason.

Melissa sighed. At least Elaine had a husband to go home to. All Melissa had was an empty apartment.

Damn it. Earlier she'd been terrified that Shane had guessed the way she'd been feeling about him. Now, faced

with going home to a lonely bed again, she realized how disappointed she was that he hadn't.

She was so comfortable with Shane. The thought of falling asleep in his arms, snuggled against his firm, muscular

chest, sent warmth washing through her.

As she drove, images of Shane in his swim trunks from when they'd gone to the beach last summer—his sexy,

muscular body gleaming in the sunshine—washed though her mind. Her insides tightened at the thought of him

pulling her against him and kissing her, consuming her lips in passion. Her lips tingled as she imagined his mouth

moving against hers, his tongue slipping inside. She sighed. Sharp pangs of need pulsed through her as she

imagined his hands gliding over her body, stroking her breasts, then his mouth covering her nipple. It hardened

and elongated at the imagined pul of his mouth, the swirl of his tongue.

Oh God, she should not be obsessing about Shane just because she'd been without a man for a couple of

months. She shifted in the seat, feeling hot and damp. Good heavens, she needed a man.

She turned right onto her street, then pul ed into her driveway. She grabbed her purse from the seat and

dodged through the rain to the front door. She unlocked it and, as she pushed it open, she heard the phone

ringing from inside. She kicked off her shoes and raced across the room, then snatched up the receiver.

"Hi, there." Shane's deep voice greeted her.