Compromising Her Position (Compromise Me 1)

3:45 p.m.

Chelsea,

Mr. Collins in Room 112 wants to know if we can pick the lock on a pair of handcuffs.

Thx.

Lynette

Yes, they could. Chelsea sent a request to the head of maintenance, and dropped her phone into her bag.

“Problem?” Rafe asked, and waited for her to join him on the path leading to the villas.

“Nothing life or death, unlike our latest adventure. You told me shark sightings were rare, but I’ve seen fewer dorsal fins during a Shark Week marathon.” She tried to smile and ignore the countdown screen in her mind steadily ticking off his remaining hours at the resort. A light offshore wind caught the edges of the orange and black tribal print sarong she’d changed into after their dive. Waves crashed in the distance, sending out a low repeating echo. Last day.

He shot her an innocent look, or as close to innocent as he could come. “Shark sightings are relatively rare.” Then he squeezed her hand. “Consider us lucky.”

“I think we’re feeling lucky for different reasons, but either way, I’m not going to press mine.” Or maybe she was, because she let him draw her to the door of his villa. “I’m content to call today a once-in-a-lifetime experience.”

“You say that now, but after today, diving in the safe, boring shallows won’t satisfy you anymore.” He unlocked the door and held it open for her. “You’ll want the adrenalin rush that comes from going deep.”

She walked through, grappling with the sneaking suspicion his words applied to more than just diving. After this week of going deep with Rafe, would her days seem tame and boring? She perched on the arm of the sofa and kicked off her sandals. “Too bad you fly back to L.A. tomorrow. You won’t be able to put your theory to the test.”

Just mentioning the fact out loud made her want to wrap herself around him and…cling.

Nope. No clinging. You went into this strictly for fun. Fun and sex. Wonderful while it lasted, but it ends the moment his limo pulls away from the resort

tomorrow.

Yes, okay, good rule to keep in mind, because she was in no condition to risk an emotional attachment right now. Even if she could, he wasn’t the man to do it with. He’d been crystal clear about his limits. Tomorrow she’d pull on her big girl panties, kiss him good-bye, and move on. She wasn’t looking for Mr. Forever, and he wasn’t auditioning for the role.

He stepped close and tipped her chin up until she stared into moody eyes. “You chatted up a storm with everyone on the boat today. Now you’re suddenly quiet, except to mention my departure. Anxious to get rid of me?”

No…and yes. His barest touch sent a familiar thrill of heat through her, but God, she could get dangerously addicted to that thrill. After tonight, she’d put his demanding yet surprisingly giving hands out of her mind. She’d ignore the residual whisper of his voice in her ear, and relegate the sensation of his hungry mouth exploiting every vulnerable part of her to a corner of her memory.

After tonight.

His mouth kicked up at one corner. “Not in the mood to talk?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t. Not so much.

“Something else you prefer to do instead?”

This time she nodded, and undid the tie that secured her sarong. The slippery fabric puddled at her feet, leaving her naked. “I believe you have some unfinished business, Mr. St. Sebastian.” Then she turned and bent over the arm of the sofa.

She waited like that for a long, quiet moment. Finally, his low curse shattered the silence, and a rustle of activity followed—the hushed sound of his trunks hitting the rug, the quick tear of a condom wrapper. She sank her toes into the thick rug, and then arched up onto the balls of her feet.

Two cool fingertips trailed slowly down her spine, and came to rest at the last notch.

She dug her fingers into the cushion beneath her. “Mr. St. Sebastian?”

Firm hands clasped her hips and lifted her precisely where he wanted her. She closed her eyes and held her breath.

“Miss Wayne. I always finish business.”

Chapter Seventeen

When the long, sleek Tradewinds’ limousine pulled to a stop at the front entrance of the villa, Rafe gave in to impulse. He took Chelsea’s hand, got into the limo, and pulled her in after him.