Mr. Rook Page 9

  I leaned into him, losing myself in his lips and tongue and warmth.

  He jerked back and stood. “Goddammit. My apologies. That was not—it was not—I cannot ever do that again.”

  I blinked at him. “Uh, okay.”

  “Do not misunderstand, Ms. Brenna—”

  “Stephanie.”

  “Stephanie. But the rules do not allow me to be intimate. As much as I might enjoy it with you.”

  Wasn’t he the owner? “Whose rules?”

  “You will have to accept my apologies, but I cannot discuss this any further.”

  “What? Are you married? Engaged?”

  “It is far more complicated than that.” He pointed to the little table. “There is more scotch if you need it. The shower and towels are behind that door. We’ll be back to the dock in fifteen minutes.”

  I don’t believe it. Rook was flustered. And rattled and blushing and irritated, all rolled together. I’d somehow gotten under his skin.

  So what could be more complicated than marriage when it came to relationships? His reluctance only made me want to dig harder. Only now, I was beginning to feel like I wanted answers for an entirely different reason. I hoped he had nothing to do with Cici’s disappearance, because for the first time in four months, I felt human again.

  Yeah, and half crazy.

  But wasn’t that what he’d said? Some people came here to find solitude and flush out the demons. Because mine were eating away at me. And so is my lust for Rook.

  CHAPTER NINE

  “See you tonight?” Now wearing his linen pants, his shirt completely unbuttoned, exposing his ripped abs and pecs, Rook stood far too close to me on the dock. Especially for a man who’d just kissed the hell out of me and then chastised himself for it.

  Of course, his body language mirrored how I felt: left wanting more.

  I tightened the blanket around me. I no longer felt cold, but I did feel hot. Everywhere.

  This is dangerous. I couldn’t have feelings for this man. Not when I still had no understanding of what I was dealing with or his involvement with Cici.

  “I think I’ll stay in tonight—room service sounds nice.” I needed time to get my head straight.

  He lifted a dark silky brow. “Are you turning me down, Stephanie?”

  Oh, God. Don’t say that to me. It only made me want to change my mind.

  “I think I’ve taken all the adventure I can handle for one day.” I smiled. “Besides, you have your rules, and I’m not sure those are part of my fantasy either.”

  For Christ’s sake. Why not just come out and say that I really want to fuck him? Not that I’d meant it that way. I really wanted him to open up and tell me who’d made that rule.

  He slid his hand underneath the blanket and placed it on my nearly bare hip, pulling me into him. The effect of his touch was instant—instant melting, instant panting, instant need.

  He dipped his head and whispered in my ear, “That does not mean I can’t help you, Stephanie. Nor does it mean I didn’t enjoy our time together today. In fact, I’m looking forward to having you to myself all week—despite the encumbrance of my rule.”

  I looked up, meeting his cool, hungry eyes. “I’m not actually sure what that means.”

  “You really must learn to relax. I can help you with that.”

  “Who said I’m not relaxing?”

  “I did. And I am quite skilled at reading people,” he said in a slow, deep voice. “If you don’t begin dealing with this stress of yours, it will continue to eat away at you. Trust me.”

  He read me like an open book; I had been thinking the same thing earlier.

  “I would love to trust you,” I said. “So maybe, if you want to help me, you might start with telling me who you really are.”

  “It’s a fair request.”

  “Meaning?” I asked.

  “Meaning that I will come for you in the morning and we will talk more. I also have a very special place to show you.”

  “Please no more sharks.”

  He laughed. “I am going to show you my home and my private beach. Safe, shark-free, and we’ll be undisturbed.”

  My heart fluttered, but my mind panicked. I wondered if this was only some game he liked to play with women. Or maybe just with me.

  “How many ladies per month do you invite to your house?” I asked.

  “None.”

  “None?” I asked.

  “Not one. Not ever.”

  “So why me?”

  He cocked his head. “Let’s talk more tomorrow.” He dropped his hand. “In the meantime, Stephanie, I suggest you order the miso-braised shark tonight. It is our specialty.” He turned and walked down the dock.

  Shark. Is he joking? “I think I’ll have the chicken!” I called out, and he waved without turning.

  I sighed appreciatively, watching his firm ass carry that incredible body away.

  “Interesting,” said Tex, carrying some plastic containers off the boat.

  “Sorry?” I said.

  “I can’t say that I’ve ever seen Rook get quite so involved with a guest.”

  “So he’s never taken anyone out for shark attack theater?”

  Tex chuckled. “Can’t say that I’ve seen that either.”

  I nodded, keeping in mind that everything in this place seemed so well orchestrated. Perhaps this was yet one more fabrication. But I really, really hoped it wasn’t. Rook was definitely winning me over.

  That evening, after a long shower and big dinner—rosemary parmesan chicken with roasted red potatoes—I felt wide awake. There was no way I’d be going to sleep after today’s mental cluster fuck. My conclusion was that something—a large, large shark maybe—had rammed my head. Then I’d passed out and floated away in the strong current while Rook and his captain had busied themselves with shark feeding. By the time they’d realized I was gone, I’d drifted fairly far. The rest of my shark adventure had to have been my imagination at work.

  I’m lucky I didn’t drown. A damned miracle that my snorkel had stayed put.

  Regardless, that was not what kept me awake at a quarter to twelve. It was Rook. His sweet smell. His body. The way he’d kissed me with longing and restraint, a restraint having to do with his “rules,” no doubt. Either way, I couldn’t get the mysterious, sinfully sexy man out of my head.

  As I lay there in bed, gazing up at the wooden beams of the high ceiling, I wondered who prevented him from indulging in romances with guests. It might be another woman, but then he wouldn’t have kissed me. I seriously doubted the man was a cheater, just like I was beginning to doubt he’d had anything to do with Cici. His regard for my safety and mental well-being seemed genuine.

  I sat up and eyed my closet. It was no use trying to fall asleep. “One drink.” Going to the dinner club, which was open until two every night, seemed like a great alternative to sitting in bed, pining for answers. Maybe I’d talk with the other women to see how their fantasies were going or ask if they’d seen anything suspicious.

  I slid from bed, grabbed my skimpy red dress—a thing I’d found on clearance at Saks—and then put my hair into a topknot. My face looked redder than usual from the sun, as did the whites around my brown eyes, but I figured it would be too dark for anyone to notice.

  A half hour later, I entered the open-air restaurant overlooking the water. The place was as full as the night before only without the VIPs. And yes, I absolutely wondered where they were. I hope they’re okay.

  “Ms. Brenna, so lovely to see you tonight. Will you be dining alone or with friends?” The waitress was a thin, young thing with a warm smile and dark eyes. I guess the restaurant staff memorized the guests’ faces, because I’d never seen her.

  “Alone. But I won’t be eating. I just came for a nightcap.” I shrugged, feeling obligated to explain. “I ate in my room, but I can’t sleep.”

  She smiled sweetly. “Then you’ve come to the right place.” She showed me to the same dark table in the back. I assu
med Julie had made a note that I didn’t enjoy sitting near the stage. Not exactly true, but I no longer needed to make fusses. I had Rook’s attention.

  “Is this all right?” she asked.

  “Great. Thanks.”

  “May I get you a bottle of our best tequila, some lime wedges, and salt?”

  I had to admit, their attention to detail was incredible.

  “How about a glass of white wine? Maybe a sauvignon blanc if you have it?”

  She dipped her head. “Coming right up.”

  My eyes moved to the dance floor, where Emily—the mousey blonde from the plane—swayed in the arms of a stunning black man with long dreaded hair. She wore a weird little suede toga and he wore…well, a skirt. Made of leather or something.

  I raised a brow. Tarzan is a hot black guy? I guessed they really could make your wildest dreams come true.

  The waitress returned immediately with a fancy bottle of wine in an ice bucket. She uncorked it and poured a glass for me to try.

  Seriously? It was the best dang sauvignon blanc I’d ever tried. Just the right amount of grapefruit, tang, and sweetness.

  “Thanks. It’s perfect,” I said, begrudgingly surrendering to the spectacular level of awesomeness at Rook’s Island.

  “If you need anything else, flag me down.” She flashed a quick smile and went to check on the other tables.

  “Stephanie!” screamed a shrill voice.

  Meg stood in a lime green dress, swaying with the gentle breeze coming from outside off the bay.

  Someone’s tipsy. “Hi, Meg.”

  She pulled out a chair and sat. “So how’d it go today? I want details. Lots of details.”

  I had told her I’d have my fantasy today. “Umm…it was okay.”

  “How was he in bed?”

  “Oh, we didn’t—”

  “No? That’s too bad. The men here are really into their work. You’re missing out!” She reached across the table and slapped the top of my hand. “I was supposed to have the Highlander fantasy tomorrow—I picked a beautiful man with red hair, like from that show Outlander—have you seen it?”

  “Can’t say that I have. But have you heard—”

  “Well, you should! That Jamie is hot stuff.”

  I wanted to ask Meg if she’d heard or seen anything strange happening on the island, but she wasn’t going to let me get a word in.

  “Anyway,” Meg swiped her hand through the air, “they had a big issue with their kilts. So I had to change fantasies. I’m doing the princess trapped in a castle fantasy—there are knights who fight in suits of armor and everything.”

  “Sounds really hot.”

  “I knooooow. Right?”

  I’d meant hot for the men to be wearing tin suits in this weather, but whatever.

  “But they said I’d get a discount because of the mix-up, so I’m already thinking I’ll book another trip later in the year. I’ve always wanted to try the cowboy fantasy. Did you know he’s a real live cowboy? He teaches you to ride a horse and ride him at the same time!” She snorted. “God, I love this place. I’ve never felt more alive.”

  I nodded in silence, thinking about what Rook had said. This place was more than just having fun, it was a kind of therapy.

  Maybe that was why Cici had been so excited to come here. Maybe she was looking for someone to remove her petals and free her.

  “Meg!” someone yelled out across the restaurant.

  It was one of the other ladies in our group.

  “Oh, I have to go.” Meg hopped from her seat. “Dana over there got kidnapped by ninjas today.” She winked. “I gotta hear all about their swords.”

  “Sure. Have a good night,” I said, but Meg had already run off. This place is too surreal. On the other hand, part of me was beginning to appreciate the absurdity and freedom.

  Liar. You only appreciate one thing and his name is Rook. Mr. Complicated, Mysterious, Handsome as Hell, and Unavailable.

  “Hello there, Ms. Brenna,” said a deep, sultry voice. I looked up to find the hazel-eyed Luke.

  “Hi, Luke. No tux tonight, huh?” He had on his uniform—the blue and white Hawaiian shirt and khaki shorts.

  “That’s only for welcome night, thankfully. The ocean breeze in this restaurant is nice, but it’s definitely not ventilated enough for a suit and tie. Would you care for some company? You look like you could use an uplifting conversation.”

  “Thanks, but I don’t exactly feel uplifted by men who are paid to talk to me.” The moment I said that, I realized I might have come off a little rude. “Sorry. That’s my exhaustion and stress talking.”

  Luke grinned. “No worries. However, you should know that the men who come here aren’t paid. Not for that anyway. If you haven’t noticed, there aren’t too many people on this island. We simply enjoy a little social interaction on our time off.”

  I glanced at Tarzan. “Him, too?”

  Luke shrugged. “I’m guessing he doesn’t have any more fantasies to host for the week and his guest wanted to spend more time with him, so I can only say yes.” He smiled. “May I sit?”

  “Sure. Go for it.” Luke seemed like he might be the type to answer a few questions.

  He pulled out the chair opposite me. “So I take it you had your fantasy date today?”

  “What makes you say that?”

  “I’ve been working as the scuba instructor for ten months, and in my experience, women either glow or they look like they’ve been kicked in the gut after their big dates.”

  Definitely kicked in the gut. By Jaws. And then I got rejected by Mr. Rook after the best kiss of my life. I sipped my ice-cold wine, suddenly wishing I’d asked for tequila. I definitely needed something stronger after today’s nightmare.

  “So why do you say that?” I asked.

  “Because they had the time of their lives.” He grinned.

  “And?”

  “They either have a fun-hangover or they’re devastated because they know that life won’t get any better.”

  “Ouch!” I gulped down my wine and poured another glass. “Would you like some?” I offered.

  “No, thank you.” He held up his hand. “I have a six a.m. lesson. But how about a dance?”

  I didn’t want to admit that I hated being touched. Except for Mr. Rook, apparently.

  “Actually, I’m a little frazzled,” I said. “My date with Rook was pretty awful.”

  “Your date was with Rook?”

  “Yes,” I replied. “So?”

  “So he never leaves any detail to chance. He’s a serial perfectionist.”

  I shrugged. “Well, I guess he was off his game today.”

  Luke stood and held out his hand. “Then this will get your mind off it. I promise.”

  I looked at his hand, wondering if having him touch me would possibly feel good. In other words, maybe my liking Rook’s touch had nothing to do with Rook. Maybe I was getting over my phobia.

  I smiled. “Sure. One dance.”

  I took Luke’s hand, feeling a twinge of pins and needles. We walked to the dance floor and Bob Marley came over the speakers, “No Woman, No Cry.” Six women, all of them I recognized from the plane, got up to dance, a few of them with partners. Tarzan and Jane remained deep in conversation, dancing quietly by the stage.

  Luke pulled me to him in a standard slow-dance position, though this wasn’t that sort of song. Total player move.

  “So what did you do before you started working here?” I asked, the discomfort growing on my palm and on the small of my back where his hand rested.

  “I was a marine,” he replied.

  I hadn’t expected that answer. “Wow. So what brought you here?”

  “Honestly? I wanted to live somewhere quiet. Somewhere safe and crime-free. After three tours in the Middle East, I don’t do well with violence.”

  Poor guy. “So there’s never any crime here?” I had to ask. Meanwhile, my discomfort continued but plateaued, feeling almost bearable. This was a huge
step for me.

  Yeah, but touching Rook doesn’t bother you at all.

  “I haven’t seen or heard of any problems,” Luke replied. “Mr. Rook and the staff carefully screen anyone who comes on the island. I think since the guests are all female, he feels personally responsible for ensuring their safety. That’s not to say we don’t have other challenges,” he added.

  “Like?”

  “I don’t know.” He gave his head a shake. “This island definitely has an impact on people.”

  “In a good or bad way?”

  “There’s something about the place that makes people overly rowdy. It’s like they’ve been let out of a cage and are trying to make up for lost time.”

  I could see that.

  He went on, “But most everyone loves it here and begs to stay. We only get a few who can’t get out of here fast enough. I obviously love it.”

  “Obviously. But the people who leave?”

  “We’re fairly cut off from the world. There’s no Internet and we only have a few outside lines for operational purposes. I imagine some people can’t handle unplugging from their lives. They ask to be on the first plane home.”

  Okay, now that’s strange. Because coming here wasn’t cheap. “Are you sure they leave?”

  “Where else would they go?”

  Dead. They’d be dead.

  I began thinking about it. If Rook closely controlled who came and who went, how would the employees really know when someone went missing? He could tell them that so-and-so hopped on the plane home. Who would question?

  “Do you keep in touch with any ex-coworkers or guests after their week is over?” I asked.

  “Not really. Most of the people who come here keep it a secret—as they’re supposed to.”

  I bobbed my head, feeling the wine loosen me up.

  “So which are you?” he asked. “Loving it or are you ready to run for the hills?”

  “I guess we’ll see when the week is over.” And what I find out about Cici. “I’m not exactly done with my fantasy yet—still a couple more rounds to go.”

  Just then I noticed a shadowy tall figure leaning against the wall in the corner of the restaurant. Rook. A chill swept through me.