“No harm, no foul. I was just guessing when I asked.”
Anya slides onto the stool next to me as Andreas returns.
“What can I get you to drink, miss?”
“I’ll take a vodka tonic with lime. Top shelf.”
“Happy to oblige.”
Andreas goes to work making her drink, and Anya points to the window. “Oh my God, do you see that? Is that fire?”
The sun has almost completely set, and sure enough, I see orange flames.
Andreas swings around to look. “Shit!” He drops the glass in his hand and rushes to the exit.
I stand to follow, but she puts a hand on my arm. “Could it spread to here? Should we evacuate?”
“It’s just a couple flames, so they’ll probably get it put out.”
I head for the door, but Eduardo meets me at the threshold.
“Please stay inside, sir. We’ve got it under control.”
There’s no chance to ask for an explanation before he hurries away.
“Should we help? I feel terrible just standing here and watching.”
The same instinct pushes me, but from our position inside, we see four men bring buckets to douse the small fire with water. The larger of the flames are already gone.
“Apparently they really do have it under control.” I grab my beer and down a large gulp.
“Thank the Lord. That seems so crazy.”
Part of me agrees, and then the other part of me realizes that fires happen all the time in places like these, so it’s probably not that unusual.
Two more rounds of buckets later, and the fire and any potential coals are completely out. Andreas and Eduardo both return to the restaurant, out of breath and looking quite relieved.
“What happened?” Anya asks.
Eduardo shakes his head. “Don’t know. Maybe the electrical line sparked?”
“You sure you weren’t smoking over there?” Andreas asks.
With a sharp look, Eduardo responds, “No way. You know I quit. And I’d lose my job if I accidentally started a fire.”
“Let’s get you both some more drinks. Sorry about the commotion. Everything on this island is checked for safety on a regular basis, so it’s rare that we have any kind of excitement of that nature.” Andreas slides behind the bar, washes his hands, and finishes making the vodka tonic for Anya and retrieves another beer for me.
Anya holds her drink up to mine in a salute. “Cheers to no more excitement of that nature.”
I clink the rim of her glass, offering a polite smile at her random toast. All I want is to get our food so I can get back to Kat.
We both drink in silence for the next several minutes before Anya starts to make small talk. When Eduardo appears from the kitchen almost a half hour later with the food I ordered, I’m glad to escape her inane chatter.
It’s not until I’m walking out of the restaurant with the bag in hand that a heavy sluggishness seeps into my veins, and I miss a step on the walkway.
Something’s not right.
Chapter 25
Kat
My shriek cuts the air, and I cross my arms over my chest to shield my nakedness.
“What the hell are you doing? Get out!”
“But then I couldn’t give you this.” Vander takes a step toward me with the towel.
“Leave it and get the hell out of here!”
He tsk-tsks as he shakes his head. “You should be a whole lot nicer to me, Katerina. I’m the one who decides how much of a living hell your life is going to be from now on.” His statement, which makes no sense, drips with malice.
“Look, we said no. End of story. I don’t know what the Swing Code of Ethics says, but I’m pretty sure when someone politely declines being involved in some kind of orgy, you just have to accept it and move on. Who knows, maybe the new couples will be more into your brand of kink.”
Vander laughs. “No one told me you were funny too.”
“I’m not funny. Never have been. You can ask Dane.”
I edge further back in the bathroom, planning to slam the door and lock myself inside until Vander gives up and leaves.
Dane is going to kill him.
Vander doesn’t miss my subtle step back. “You can stop right there, Katerina. Whatever you’re planning is just going to piss me off, and things will go better for you if you cooperate. Don’t make me hurt you.” That last bit is delivered in such a venomous way that there’s no chance I’m going to comply.
I fling myself toward the bathroom door and slam it shut before he reaches me, scrambling to flip the flimsy lock on the handle. Turning around, I keep my back to the door and scan the room for something to brace it shut.
The first crash against the door comes within seconds, about the same time I realize there’s nothing I can use to hold the door.
My cover-up from earlier is on the bamboo stool, and I make a calculated decision. I’d prefer to have something on rather than face Vander naked. Charging for it, I grab my cover-up and the stool itself too. A second blow flexes the door against the tiny lock holding it shut. It won’t stand up to a third.
With one bamboo leg in each hand, I hold the stool like a baseball bat, ready to swing it at his head.
All I have to do is hold him off until Dane gets back.
The thought of my husband brings me strength. What would Dane do?
He’d probably tell me to raise my elbow or something like that so I have more velocity on the swing, but this is the best I can do.
The next crash comes against the door and I steady myself, ready to strike.
The lock gives up the fight and the wooden panel flies open, smashing against the wall as Vander’s face comes into view. Instead of calm and nonchalant, it’s now lined with exertion and anger.
“You want to play games, Kat? Well, guess what? You won’t like the games we’re going to play next. I can promise you that.” He notices the stool above my head as he crosses the threshold. “What good do you think that’s going to do you? If you hurt me, I promise it’ll come back to you tenfold.”
The malice in his tone is enough to give me second thoughts about my plan, but I refuse to go down without a fight.