"Far be it from me to disagree."
She glanced up at him, suddenly noticing exactly how close he'd gotten. Somehow, in the few moments since they'd been talking, they were now only inches from each other. Close enough for her to feel the sun's heat still radiating from his skin. Close enough that if she got on her tiptoes she might just be able to...
She studied his lips, full and supple and still so strong. Silently, she wondered what he tasted like. What the heady mix of his piney, masculine smell would do to her as she kissed him.
"I have to get back to work," she said.
"Color me surprised." He smiled down at her, but she didn't bother to smile back at him.
Instead, she rushed back to the conference room, determined to never, ever see him again.
Four
A horn sounded outside his window and Trey sighed before drawing the curtain behind him.
"You should go." The voice on the computer reminded him, and he turned to face his wear-worn sister staring back at him.
"They have the damn thing once a week. If I eat any more poi, I think I'll start turning purple."
"Purple could be your color. You never know." Candace grinned and he narrowed his eyes back at her. "Hey, I'm just saying it might be a nice chance to meet someone."
"A vacationer? Be their one fling in Hawaii?"
"You've been worse."
"I've been better, too." He tried to sound nonchalant, but the second they started talking about women, his mind stopped short on the little redhead he'd seen only hours before. It was the first time he'd seen her standing, and he was surprised to find how short she actually was--like a stick of dynamite with a fiery red top. Maybe it was the light of day, too, but somehow she seemed a little less severe than he'd remembered. The curve of her body looked that much smoother, that much softer...
"What are you thinking about?" His sister interrupted him and he answered back a little too quickly.
"Nothing."
"There's a girl."
"There's not."
"I've seen you when there's a girl, and I know your face when there's a girl, so by the transitive property--"
"Don't sight your math facts at me. There's not a girl. And even if there was, per say, a figurative girl, she doesn't live on the island. And even if she did, I'm not seeing anyone."
"Trey--"
"Nope. I'm not. I've got to go, okay?"
Candace waved her hand, either out of frustration or surrender, he couldn't say which, and he clicked out of the window before turning to his bedroom and laying on his bed. In the distance, he could hear the drums from the luau pounding across the wide open beach. He laid back on his bed and closed his eyes, picturing the drummers, trying to allow the rhythm to rock him to sleep...
And then she was there in his mind, her hips swaying from side to side along with the rhythm. Felicia Webb.
It was hard to say why he even thought of her. He'd seen so many women like her come and go on these business-driven trips, but there was just something about her that called to him. Like there was something hidden behind those hazel eyes that he needed to figure out.
Against his better judgement, he slipped into a pair of sandals and padded toward the door. After all, the employees were allowed to eat at the luau for free, and it never made sense to pass up free food.
He had to go. To prevent waste. To save the earth.
And maybe, just maybe, to get another glimpse of Felicia Webb.
If the grass skirt wasn't enough, the coconut bra definitely had been. Felicia fingered the string holding her hand-full sized bosom in place and hoped for the thousandth time that night that the twine was as durable as the lady in the ship had said they were.
Somehow, she doubted it.
For what it was worth, though, Frank seemed to get a kick out of it. When she'd walked into the luau with her hair down and her ensemble all ready, he'd offered her another of his beaming grins and said, "Now that's it. I love to see my employees getting into the spirit."
That was it. One sentence of praise for one night wearing the world's more revealing outfit.
Now she knew how it felt to be Britney Spears.
Still, the luau hadn't been all bad. She'd learned to make herself a flowered headband and a lei. She'd even had her first authentic Hawaiian drink. And, since the way she felt in this outfit wasn't going to change any time soon, she was sure to have many, many more by the time the night was over.
A little ways away from where she stood beside the beachfront bar, a conch shell sounded and she looked up to the wide platform of a stage to see a score of women pounding up the steps and into the forefront.