Secret Fantasy

“Thank you.” Merrilee smiled. “I thought so too, though I do wish I knew who sent them,” she murmured.

Juliette bent forward and inhaled the fragrant scent. “A secret admirer? How romantic!”

Merrilee inclined her head. “More like mysterious.”

“Was there a card?” Juliette asked, then immediately waved her hand in the air. “I’m sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“Actually I’ve always felt once a person divulged their fantasies to me, a bond is created. I don’t mind answering. There was a note.” Merrilee lifted the standard-looking white card that had come attached to the flowers and read the inscription. “Roses, red as rubies. Because they’re your favorite.”

Juliette lowered herself into the armchair across from the desk. “And are they your favorite?”

Merrilee nodded. Because red rubies reminded her of Charlie, she thought, glancing down at her ring. But Charlie was long gone, as she knew too well. Getting sentimental and wistful over an intriguing gesture wouldn’t bring him back. And though she wondered who knew her secrets, now wasn’t the time to figure it out.

She pulled a tissue from the box on her desk and blotted beneath her eyes. “So what can I do for you?” she asked Juliette.

The younger woman’s eyes filled with concern. “Maybe this isn’t the best time. I can come back later.”

Merrilee waved away her misgiving. “It’s fine. I’m fine.” She’d learned to be, of necessity. “Go on, please.”

Juliette twisted her hands in her lap. “Well, I’m not familiar with how this fantasy stuff works but I have a request that may be…unorthodox.”

Merrilee smiled to put her guest at ease. “Trust me, there’s little I haven’t seen or heard as the person in charge of making fantasies come true.”

“Okay then.” Juliette drew a deep breath. “I want Doug—I’m sorry I don’t know his last name—but I want him as my fantasy man.”

Doug. Merrilee knew Juliette meant Doug Houston and realized he’d chosen anonymity as a cover. After Doug’s departure a week earlier, Merrilee had done some research of her own and was quite familiar with the behind-the-scenes story of this particular fantasy. She’d discovered, before agreeing to let him stay upon his second arrival, that he had told her the truth. One point in his favor but he was still on probation.

Merrilee understood now that if Juliette knew she’d chosen the man who’d printed the article on her ex-fiancé’s business partner, she’d bolt. Maybe. But maybe attraction and desire were stronger than fear.

“The man from the lobby earlier?” she asked, just to be certain.

Juliette nodded. “Yes. I know you said I’d be seeing more of him and I want to. I want to make sure he’s the man you’ve chosen for me. Unless he’s already taken?” Juliette’s eyes were wide as she waited for an answer.

“Obviously there’s a strong attraction between you two.”

Juliette blushed and averted her gaze. “I’m not sure I’ve ever felt this way before.” She laughed uncomfortably. “Kind of like it hits you between the eyes and you’re not certain what to do next.”

“Except not let him get away?” Merrilee asked, both amused and pleased Juliette was responding so strongly to Doug.

She grinned. “Exactly.”

The young woman had made Merrilee’s decision that much simpler. Bound by confidentiality and ethics, she wasn’t at liberty to reveal Doug Houston’s background or relation to Juliette’s recent past. That was for the two of them to work out, if and when the time came. But she’d studied Doug all afternoon and watched him around Juliette.

He might not be all he seemed, but Merrilee didn’t believe he was looking to hurt Juliette. “Well, I don’t see any problem. Whatever Doug’s fantasy, and you understand I can’t reveal that, it doesn’t involve another woman.”

Relief washed over Juliette. She hadn’t realized how nervous she’d been that she’d lose Doug before she ever had him. “So he’s…”

“Available.”

She laughed. “I was going to say mine.”

Merrilee leaned back in her seat. “Something tells me the man won’t know what hit him.”

Juliette grinned. “They say turnaround is fair play. As long as I’m giving in to the idea of this fantasy, I figured, why not try for the man who interests me most?”

“And I take it he’s fulfilling your fantasy needs?”

“Making me feel like no one or nothing else is more important than me?” She nodded. “He’s extremely good at that.” And so much more. His intensity was incredible. A woman could go her whole life without being the sole focus of a man’s attention. “I guess I owe my sister a thank-you for giving me this one week to enjoy and escape the problems back home.”

Merrilee nodded. “My hope is that my guests leave here with a whole new perspective on life.”

Juliette met Merrilee’s understanding gaze. “I’m hoping to leave here with a whole new perspective on a lot of things.”

“Well, if there’s anything I can do, please stop by again.”

She nodded. “Thank you. For everything. And until you find out who your secret admirer is, I hope you enjoy the attention.”

Just as Juliette would enjoy Doug’s.

Merrilee smiled, then stood, bracing her arms on the desk. “So, enjoy your stay at the resort, and let your fantasy begin.”

“I certainly will.” Juliette nodded, letting herself out of the office.

Her hand still on the cool doorknob, she recalled her time with Doug. For a split second this afternoon, she’d taken one look at such a good-looking man and nearly laughed at herself for thinking he’d be interested in her. Then she’d felt his hot hand against her thigh and his strong words of reassurance. She’d realized it was Stuart speaking inside her, making her doubt herself, stifling the confident woman she ought to be.

She’d allowed Doug to bring her confidence back because he cared enough to try. And caring was something she’d obviously missed out on—along with sexual tension and amazing chemistry. She thought about the upcoming week. Doug was a man who’d distract her from the dilemma over how and when to reveal her ex-fiancé’s deceit. A man with whom she could cast away the safety net she’d hidden behind all her life and discover the sensual side of herself she’d believed was missing or nonexistent. A man she’d never see again after their time together.

And most important, a man who wasn’t using her for her social or political connections.

JULIETTE STEPPED out of her cottage and into the humid night air. The floral scent she’d come to associate with the island hung heavy but, after the stifling isolation of home, she welcomed the fresh air and fragrant smells. She followed the narrow path that led from the isolated set of cottages to the beach where tonight’s festivities awaited her. Where Doug awaited her, she hoped.

Torches lined the sandy shore and the orange glow of flames stood out in stark contrast to the inky night sky. She stepped down the rickety wooden stairs and paused. A bonfire burned on one section of the beach and a band playing Beach Boys type music rocked on a makeshift stage. People mingled, some in pairs, others in groups, a few individuals wandered alone. She wasn’t in the mood to socialize with complete strangers, except maybe one in particular. She narrowed her gaze and searched through the crowd.

“Looking for someone?” His voice sounded from behind her.

Her heartbeat immediately doubled. “Just taking in the sights.”

“If you say so.” He laughed.

The deep, masculine sound caused ripples of warmth to ooze through her veins.

“But I know I was looking for you.” His voice held a gentle heat, but it was his word choice that warmed her.

“You found me. I was just about to take a look around.”

“Sounds good to me.” He gestured with a sweep of his hand, indicating she should go first.

Two strides and she reached the sand where waiters, dressed in baggy shorts and colored T-shirts, stood ready to serve. Juliette continued forward, but Doug grabbed her hand, pulling her aside. “One thing before we check things out.”

She inclined her head. “What’s that?”

He braced his hands on her shoulders, pulling her gently toward him. Razor stubble covered his cheeks, thick and alluring, while his eyes, as blue as the ocean, stared into hers. “Thank you for inviting me to spend the night with you.”

“Now who’s being presumptuous?” she asked.

His eyes opened wide, as he apparently realized what he’d just said and Juliette laughed.

Laugh lines wrinkled around his eyes. “Something tells me not to touch that statement.”

“Not yet, but there’s time.” She laughed nervously, wanting to give him a green light but uncertain of how to proceed. Yet his intensity and obvious interest made her brave when she might have withdrawn.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

And neither was she. The irony wasn’t lost on her though. She was a woman who’d learned from early childhood not to reveal too much about herself and to maintain proper decorum at all times lest the press print vile, ugly stories. Yet here she was at the most difficult crossroads of her life opening up enough to trade sexual innuendo with a gorgeous stranger—and not caring a bit.

Juliette drew a calming breath but she inhaled his masculine scent and realized little could still the emotions rampaging inside her, the increased beat of her heart and the building crescendo of excitement.

“Cocktail?” A waiter paused, a variety of multicolored drinks on his tray.

“Piña Colada? Tequila Sunrise?” Doug narrowed his gaze and assessed the assortment. “Or would you like me to go over to the bar and get something else?”

“You choose.”

He took two tall glasses off the tray, handing her a cream-colored drink, and taking one for himself. The waiter moved on, leaving them alone. “Piña Colada.”

She accepted the cool glass and tasted the frothy drink. “Mmm. It’s sweet,” she said, surprised, then licked at her flavored lips with her tongue.

He laughed. “I figured I’d start you off slow.”

“What gave me away?”

“Your huge, curious eyes for one thing. You eyed that tray like you’d never seen anything like it before.”

She ducked her head, embarrassed at her less than worldly ways. “I’m more familiar with wines and champagne.” Fun drinks were a novelty she’d never experienced.

“Something tells me you’ve lived a very sheltered life.”

She shrugged. “More like an ultraconservative one. But my twin—she’s experienced it all.” Juliette changed the subject to Gillian, finding it easier to talk about her sister than let her own lack of experience intrude on the fantasy.

“Well, after this week, you’ll be able to claim the same.”

A grin edged the corners of her mouth. “I’m happy to say we’re on the same wavelength. I’m here to experience it all.” Everything he had to offer. “So what else are you going to introduce me to?”

A tremor wracked Doug’s body. No way did she really want to know what new and enlightening experiences he’d like to share with her. Experiences that would never, could never, pass the bounds of fantasy. No sex, he reminded himself.

But damn, he needed something to distract him from the come-hither looks she covertly sent his way. Despite her provocative comeback, the tremor in her voice and her huge eyes gave her true nature away. As a senator’s daughter, she’d grown up in front of the camera and had learned how to maintain polish and poise. But here on the island, faced with real desire, she radiated a naïveté he hadn’t expected. He didn’t think she could possibly be aware of her hungry gaze or the effect it was having on him.

But he knew. And every time he took in the outfit she’d chosen, his mouth grew dry. The sarong-style skirt tied at one hip revealed an expanse of long, bare leg while the bikini-like top exposed her flat, untanned stomach and accentuated her full, rounded breasts. No different than the clothing worn by most women on the beach tonight, but most women weren’t Juliette. And none of them affected him in the same beguiling way.

The woman was more of a feast than the one prepared by Merrilee’s staff. “Let’s check out the bamboo huts.” He pointed to where makeshift food stations had been set up beneath the thatched roofs, smorgasbord style. “Nothing like choices. What do you want? Hamburgers, hot dogs or do you want to try the Floridian specialty, conch fish?”

Juliette inhaled the assorted smells, wrinkling her nose when the distinct odor of fish came through loud and clear. “I think I’ll stick with your basic burger.”

He laughed. “I guess conservative girls don’t appreciate the art of catching, scaling and gutting a fish.”

She sniffed as if offended, but the smile on her gloss-covered lips gave her away. “I didn’t say I was conservative, I said I lived a conservative life. Big difference. As for you, you’re so relaxed, I don’t see an ounce of conventionality in you or your upbringing. Am I right?”

“Quite right.” And perhaps if he revealed some of his own past, she’d be more comfortable revealing hers. “I was adopted and neither set of parents were what you’d call conservative.”

“I’d say not, especially if you inherited either of their style of dress.” She reached out and fingered the bottom of his long, Hawaiian-print shorts before raising her gaze to his clashing but equally tropical button-down, short-sleeve shirt.

“Offensive?” he asked.

“Different,” she said with a grin. She twirled one of her long curls around her finger.

He wondered if the strands were silky smooth to the touch and when he’d be able to find out. “Different how?”

“Where I come from, men wear power suits and ties or polo shirts and slacks.”

Bingo, he thought. Some insight. Small as it may be, he appreciated any inroad. “Well, if anyone in my family does the suit-and-tie thing I’ve never seen it.”

Ted Houston never wore a suit, not even when he’d won an Associated Press award. Good thing his father’s byline hadn’t been in politics. Doug, on the other hand, knew how to dress up with the best of them, but on the island he’d chosen to let his rebel side dominate. To throw Juliette off his proverbial scent. Disgusted with the reminder and unsure why, when his pursuit of a story had never bothered him before, Doug pushed the thought away—easy to do when surrounded by her beauty.

He smiled, then lifted his shoulders in a shrug. “My adoptive father is color-blind. I guess I inherited the gift.”

She laughed at his joke.

He shut his eyes for a moment, allowing himself to enjoy the light, carefree sound. Just being around her helped him relax for the first time, not just since the paper fiasco, but since his father’s heart attack. He hadn’t realized how much he needed the release until she’d provided it.

“Hey, don’t get me wrong, your style is a welcome change.”

At the sound of her soft voice, he opened his eyes.

“You’re a welcome change,” she said.

And damned if he didn’t believe her.

She paused for another sip of her drink. The waiter had forgotten the straws or Doug hadn’t seen them on the tray. Either way, he didn’t care. It gave him a chance to touch her. He reached out and brushed the foam off her upper lip with the pad of his thumb.

She stilled, those wide, green eyes meeting his, shock evident in her gaze. He recognized the emotion since he felt it, too. His mind told him to use the surprising electric connection that sizzled between them to his advantage since, except for her one vague reference, she’d adeptly avoided any personal replies to his light queries. She had even managed to turn the tables and question him instead. But his heart pounded loud in his chest, urging him merely to enjoy.

He drew back and as she watched, he licked the sweet-tasting froth off his finger. She exhaled, a slow, breathy sound that resembled a sigh of pleasure and his body tensed in response.

Just then, dinner was announced over the sound system, directing people to the buffet and jarring him back to his senses. He’d missed a perfect opportunity to push for information under the guise of getting to know her better. Not only didn’t he understand why, but he was completely off balance. “Saved by the bell,” he muttered.

“Excuse me?”

He shook his head. “Nothing. How about we get something to eat?”

She nodded. “Sounds like a plan.”

A good one because he needed distance. And how much trouble could he get into over the course of one meal?

Half an hour later he had his answer. Too much damn trouble. With food loaded on their plates, they walked by the long picnic tables set up for guests and, at Juliette’s suggestion, headed farther down the beach. She picked a secluded area and requested he pull two lounge chairs together for their private picnic.

Doug was coming to realize he couldn’t deny her anything when she got that excited gleam in her eye. In one short outing, he’d learned to recognize the sparkle that told him she was experiencing something for the first time—from a simple drink to a picnic dinner. He’d grown up quickly, first on the street experiencing deprivation, then at Ted Houston’s side, learning the journalistic ropes from a pro. He’d discovered how to charm the devil himself for information or to gain access to private files or events. From the streets to formal banquets and affairs, Doug had seen it all.

But he’d never lived Juliette’s existence, never realized living a sheltered life could cause a person to miss out on so much. To his surprise, he was grateful he was giving her good memories to replace the more recent painful ones. Ones he’d inadvertently caused. He just wished watching her wasn’t so difficult.

Arousingly difficult. She licked her fingers delicately before turning to the napkin in her lap and wiping her hands. She set the napkin aside and yawned, then said, “It’s not the company, I swear.”

“It’s the travel. I’m surprised you’ve made it this late. Did you want to watch the pathetic rendition of the Beach Boys or call it a night?” He didn’t know which he hoped she’d choose but a night to rethink his strategy wouldn’t be a bad thing.

She sighed. “Much as I hate to say this, I think turning in would be best.”

Disappointment warred with relief. “I understand.”

After they collected and deposited their paper goods and garbage, she turned toward him. “I really enjoyed tonight.”

“Me too. But until I walk you to your door, it’s not over.” He wasn’t ready to let her go yet and hoping for a glimmer of information wasn’t the only reason.

“You don’t need to do that. But I’d like it if you would.”

And he’d like to take a jump into the cool ocean water. Walking her to her secluded cottage door, he felt more like a kid on his first date than an experienced reporter out to get a story. But Rome wasn’t built in a day and neither would he get what he needed tonight.

“Well, we’re here.” She turned around, her back against the door, palms braced behind her.

From the gleam in her eye he wouldn’t get a fast escape and a quick good-night. From his body’s response to this woman, he didn’t want one.

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