Wicked Sexy (Men of Discovery Island 1)

Swimming naked was out because no amount of fantasizing was going to make her forget the ocean came with critters, but her cabin had a private hot tub on the back porch. What would she do if she happened to be soaking amid the bubbles and Daeg Ross showed up? His boots would hit those steps, the worn denim clinging to his backside as he bent toward her and dipped his fingers into the warm water. Would she invite him in? Yes. Or, she could leave him standing there. Watching. Teasing could be fun.

She included these ideas in her columns. She was probably the only woman on Discovery Island with an organized list of fantasies but hey, she’d spent a lifetime preparing actuarial charts. This was a lot more fun.

Setting the pad aside on the bedside table, she flopped back onto the pillows. For now, it was just her and her fantasies.

5

BY THREE O’CLOCK the following afternoon, Dani knew it was time to go.

The weather forecast was bad and the National Hurricane Center had issued multiple tropical storm advisories. The winds barreling up the Pacific toward Discovery were on track to become a category-one hurricane. For now, that meant rain and more rain, but the longer-term prognosis was ominous. The residents of Discovery Island were already moving into a more secure shelter in the middle of town.

She needed to do that, too. For once, she was glad that Sweet Moon was light on guests. The young couple vacationing for the first time together had opted to head to the mainland earlier that day, despite the ferry’s choppy ride, so that left just the older couple in cabin five.

The rain coming down wasn’t bad yet, but it was steady and creating plenty of puddles in the driveway. Grabbing an umbrella, she ran to the Ramseys’ cabin. Either they agreed to follow her into town or she had to rethink the evac plan. If this storm was as strong as the forecasters were predicting, the Ramseys were far better off at the community center. There’d be food and water, medical supplies and plenty of volunteers.

Mr. Ramsey swung the door open as soon as she knocked. That was a positive sign. He was dressed for the outdoors as well, a rain slicker open over his sweater and cords. Better and better.

“We’re asking all our guests to head into town now to the storm shelter.” She met his eyes and waited for him to react. She couldn’t force him to leave, but she had an arsenal of facts ready if he protested.

“On it.” He stepped away from the door, gesturing behind him to the mound of suitcases. Mrs. Ramsey wasn’t a believer in traveling light—to Sweet Moon or anywhere else, apparently. “Let me put that lot in the car and we’ll go.”

She gave him her best professional smile. “Follow me and I’ll show you where the shelter is.”

She took their matched set of roller bags and headed for the Ramseys’ rental car. Daeg’s cabin looked plenty empty as she splashed past it, the lights off and the Jeep missing. He’d left her a terse message that he was going to Deep Dive, so he’d be fine.

Thirty cautious minutes later, she had the Ramseys inside the shelter and a whole new problem on her hands.

“I forgot my Friday,” Mr. Ramsey said apologetically.

“Excuse me?” She could feel the headache starting behind her eyes.

“I left my pills behind,” he explained, although how the couple could find anything in that mountain of luggage was a miracle. Apparently, however, Mr. Ramsey had parted company with his days-of-the-week pill carrier without taking the day’s meds. Anxiously, his wife patted down his pockets before turning their bags inside out.

Again.

“What do you take?” Maybe the pharmacy here in town could replace whatever it was he’d lost. The list Mr. Ramsey rattled off was impressively lengthy, and some of it sounded far from routine. She tried to think while Mrs. Ramsey continued to ransack their possessions.

“I’ll just pop back to the cabin,” he told her, “and grab the pills. I must have left them on the bedside table.”

She shook her head. She didn’t care for wet-weather driving, but she couldn’t unleash Mr. Ramsey on those roads. He’d driven at a snail’s pace into town, and he wouldn’t make it to Sweet Moon and back before the worst of the storm moved in.

It was better if she took care of it herself. It was raining harder now, but she knew the drill and was familiar with these roads. If she drove carefully, the storm wouldn’t be a problem. “I’ll go,” she said.

Mr. Ramsey opened his mouth to argue, looked out the window and thanked her.