But she’d been more than a little exhausted when they had pulled up to the hotel but seeing Brown Brooke walk towards them almost took away her tiredness , she was grateful it had stunned her to turn around and see the man she’d once crush on before she met Drake right at her elbow.He was just as good-looking as she’d remembered, too. Handsome, with that dark hair, chiseled jaw, and those gorgeous eyes she could stare into for hours.He was also shorter than she remembered. That had been disappointing, No one wanted to date a string bean, as she’d been told a million times before. But her dream guy hadn’t commented on her height at all. In fact, he’d kissed her hand, charmed her figurative socks off, and invited her to dinner and then ended things in the room. And now, here she was with less than four hours of sleep, after the trip down here .“ Drake wants me to bring Sarah with me .”“But he just left without me.” Sarah answered sharply as Ashrof muttered something on his pho
Drake’s date was impossible to miss in the busy lobby.A half head shorter than every other woman in the room, she was also the most acutely uncomfortable. Her pretty cheekbones were stained with a red too mottled to be blush, and she kept fidgeting with the impossibly low collar of her short, flimsy dress. The thing was bright red and barely covered her ass, and it was clear that Sarah was uncomfortable as fuck in it.It surprised him to see her in the odd choice of clothing. After all, she’d seemed shy, and from what her friend had said, she was old fashioned. The woman in that dress didn’t look like old fashioned a bit. She looked like she was gunning for cock tonight.Which . . . didn’t make sense. He blinked as her braless breasts swayed as she headed toward him, tugging at the hemline of her tiny blousy dress. She wasn’t exactly dressed appropriately for where they were going, and her shoes were a pair of ugly black heels that made her feet look enormous.He said nothing, th
The boat ride ended far too soon, and they made it to Le Poisson, a ritzy little restaurant near the docks of a neighboring island. Chinese paper lanterns lined the docks and white table clothed tables lined the patio, and there was the faint sound of live music from inside.As they walked into the restaurant, he watched her visibly tense and her hands went to hold her short, floppy skirt down. He’d known that was coming. Le Poisson was a black-tie sort of place and she was wildly underdressed. Still, if she acted like she owned her look, no one would think anything of it. But judging from her hunched shoulders and unhappy expression¸ that was too much to hope for.Drake put a hand to the small of her back in solidarity and guided her forward. “No backing out now.”Sarah looked over at him, startled. “Oh, I wouldn’t. That’d be rude. And I want to be here .” Her smile grew overbright, and he wondered if that was Sarah’s version of flirting. It was awfully toothy. And was money the onl
It was a long fucking boat ride back.Sarah puked all the way from the restaurant back to the boat. She spent the entire ride back to Seaturtle Cay with her head over the railing, violently ill. When they made it back to the island, she was so exhausted from puking that she did little more than curl up in the backseat of the car and dry heave, her head in his lap. And even Drake , who wasn’t the most sympathetic of people even on a good day, felt sorry for her. He stroked her hair while she wept and heaved and generally made a mess wherever she went.By the time they got back to the lobby of the Seaturtle Cay Resort, they were both exhausted. Sarah had fallen asleep and so Drake carried her inside. Her body was long but her form was light, and it was no trouble to haul her up the steps. First stop: the front desk, to get a key for Sarah’s room. He knew the room number, but his date was asleep. If he woke her up to get the card, he suspected the vomiting would start again, and neit
Drake waited until after noon, and then he texted Sarah ’s phone.You dead?Her response came a few minutes later. Feel like it.He laughed. Couldn’t help it. She wasn’t even pretending that she was fine, which was kind of adorable. He decided to skip the texting and called her instead.“Mmmello?” Sarah’s voice was husky, blurred with sleep.“Glad to see you survived last night.” God damn, he sounded cheerful. Regular fucking sunshine right over here.“Surviving is debatable,” she said. “My head feels like it wants to abdicate from the rest of my body.”“Yeah, well, that’s what happens when you mix wine with the hard stuff.”“Never again,” she moaned. “Never, ever again.”“Eat some crackers and drink some water,” he told her. “I’d tell you hair of the dog, but I don’t know if your stomach could handle it.”“Crackers. Got it.” She sighed heavily. “Now to find some crackers.”“I’ll have the front desk run some up to you.” Or one of his assistants. “Don’t get out of bed. Just
Drake texted her at five that afternoon and asked her to meet him in the lobby at seven forty-five. She texted back her confirmation, and then immediately dashed to her closet, looking for something to wear. Tight clothing, Enny had advised. Sarah pursed her lips and considered her limited vacation wardrobe. She’d brought things appropriate to the wedding, and she’d considered shopping today for her next date, but her hangover had nixed that idea.She settled on skinny jeans under a blousy white shirt with big ruffled sleeves and a plunging neckline . . . and wore a tank top underneath. It wasn’t super sexy, but she tucked the tank into her jeans and ensured that it showed a lot of cleavage. It could be worse, she supposed. She considered her heel, but they’d been part of PukeFest and she’d tossed them. All her other shoes were extremely tall. Oh well. There was nothing to be done about that, was there? If he liked her pukey, maybe he’d like her tall, too. She wore the nude Loubouti
The next day, Drake was feeling pretty damn pleased with himself, all things considered. The date had been a disaster, but afterward . . . yeah. Afterward was good. And this morning? He was feeling even fucking better. Things were looking up. He sat on the balcony of his suite, enjoying a tequila sunrise and the cool breeze that rolled off the ocean. There was breakfast on his plate, but he wasn’t hungry. Instead, like a spider, he sat in his web and managed his prey.First on the list, a to-do left over from last night. He texted his assistant, Ashroff , since he was on Drake’s shit list at the moment. His conversation with Sarah last night had spurred more than a few thoughts, and this one was about shoes. He’d sent an assistant on the task. Have you found a maid to bribe?@ wmn @ rm 311? Stephanie sent back. U can cnt on me 2 get it, no woryrs.Jesus fucking Christ, was that even English? He did not want this shit fucked up by some pimple-faced shit head who took a job as his as
Drake wanted to meet her that afternoon, but he suggested they meet at a gazebo in the resort gardens. Definitely more romantic than the lobby, Sarah thought with a smile, and agreed to meet him there in a half hour. She was humming as she changed into something a little sexier for her date—a dark navy slip dress that she normally wore with a sweater and leggings—and put on her sparkly heels. She felt rather pretty, and hoped that Drake thought she was, too.The path out to the gardens was on the far side of the Turtle pool and lounge. The resort had several pools, but the Turtle one was popular with couples instead of families due to its multiple hot tubs. She glanced at it casually as she passed by and was startled when a man with a microphone and two guys with cameras seemed to emerge from the bushes and approach her.“Hey, doll,” the guy with the microphone said. “Tell us your name, sugar!”Sarah hesitated, alarmed. “Not your doll or sugar,” she told him, and tried to sidestep