A Perfect Compromise

CHAPTER THREE

J.B. WAS IN trouble again.

That internal warning—the feeling in his gut when he was about to be blown out by an opposition D-man—was flashing. Still, he refused to back out of this woman’s kiss.

He’d only known Bella for a couple hours and she’d already managed to keep him off balance with those damn frustrating, damn intriguing contradictions. She definitely had an uptight streak, but instead of putting him off, it enticed him to dig deeper. To see if he could loosen her up.

Even her kiss was a contradiction. He sensed her inexperience, yet the way her tongue teased his lower lip was anything but innocent. She tasted of champagne and chocolate-dipped cherries with a hint of Caribbean spice. Sweet yet intoxicating. Slightly wicked.

J.B. took her up on the invitation she so blatantly offered and deepened the kiss. When his tongue touched hers, she sighed softly. He could feel her smiling. That made him smile, too.

A bump against his shoulder brought him back to reality.

“Oops. Sorry. Carry on.” A tipsy blonde waved a hand with hot-pink nails.

Bella stiffened in his arms and blushed as if suddenly realizing what they were doing.

“Perhaps we should take this somewhere a little more private,” he suggested.

“Oh.” She bit her lip.

Sensing she might bolt, J.B. gave her an easy out. “Or we could dance, like we planned.”

Bella brightened and reached for her champagne. “Dancing sounds good.”

J.B. grabbed his drink, drained the glass, then took hers and put both flutes on the table. “Sounds like they’re playing our song.”

She tilted her head, arching an eyebrow. “‘Thriller’ is our song?”

“For sure.” He lifted his hands, fingers curled into claws, and waggled his eyebrows like an old movie villain.

Bella fluttered her hand against her chest. “Hey-yelp. I’m so scay-urred.”

Her damsel-in-distress voice made him grin. “Come with me, my pretty, and I’ll make sure you’re safe.”

As the DJ called out instructions, J.B. and Bella joined in and laughed their way through the zombie steps.

After “Thriller” came the “Macarena.” J.B. rolled his eyes and tried to head back to the table. But when Bella started dancing in front of him—suggestively swaying those hips, invitation in her eyes—once again, he couldn’t resist.

“How come you know all the right moves?” he teased.

“One of the benefits of teaching preteen girls who like to work on dance routines during recess,” she replied primly.

“Is it appropriate for me to be grateful to those girls?”

“Why not?” She grinned. “I am.”

When the DJ played the next song, a group of older people whooped, then sat on the sand in a long chain. They started swaying from side to side, patting the sand in time to the music. Then they shimmied their shoulders forward and back. Soon a second line had formed.

“You can all do this one,” the DJ called out. “It’s a bit of ‘Oops Upside Your Head.’”

J.B. and Bella looked at each other, confused by the strange dance.

“Come on, it looks like fun.” She grabbed his hand and dragged him over to join the end of a line. She dropped to the sand, pulling him down with her. “Scootch up behind me.”

Maybe this weird dance wasn’t so bad, after all, he thought as she nestled between his legs. They knocked heads when he leaned forward while the rest of the line leaned back. She looked over her shoulder at him and they laughed together.

It didn’t take long to realize that as pleasurable as it was to have the curve of Bella’s butt pressed against him, his body saw it as foreplay. The song was barely half-over and he was rock hard. There was no way Bella couldn’t have noticed; when she shimmied backward she was practically lying in his lap.

Think cold. Ice. A big sheet of clean ice.

Another freaking shimmy. Think colder. Freezing his ass off doing chores on a winter morning on his parent’s farm up in Canada.

That did the trick. His brothers might love being tied to the farm and that spit of a small town, but the mere thought chilled J.B. to the bone.

Bella jumped up the moment the song ended and headed back to their table. Her champagne had gone warm and flat, but J.B. snagged rum punches from a passing waiter.

“That’s delicious,” she said. “Very refreshing.”

“Yeah, but don’t have too many or you’ll be dancing on the tables. The rum packs a punch, if you’re not used to it.”

Bella put down the glass with such force that the drink splashed onto her hand. She rubbed it off with a napkin as if it was acid, an accusation in her eyes.

Surely she didn’t think he was trying to get her drunk?

“I don’t think one glass will do you any harm,” he said lightly.

Uptight Bella was back. “I should probably go back to the room, anyway. It’s getting late.”

J.B. debated trying to convince her that it was still early, but figured he’d cut his losses. “I’ll walk you.”

“There’s no need. It’s safe here.”

“I know.”

A hint of a smile curved her lips. “Honestly, you don’t have to hang out with me any longer. Your duty’s done.”

“Maybe I’d like to.” He took off his loafers. “Let’s walk along the beach.”

Bella nodded. Instead of reaching for his hand as she had earlier, she removed her sandals and held them by the heel straps. She started off at a decent clip, heading toward the accommodation block on the far side of the property. But, even barefoot, it was hard to walk fast along the soft, shifting sand, so she soon slowed. Beside her, J.B. matched her pace.

Though lamps cast a golden glow along the promenade, down by the water’s edge their way was lit by the large, almost-full moon. The clear sky was filled with a mass of stars, the constellations showing up in brilliant relief.

The sounds of the party faded as they strolled farther along the beach. The silence between them wasn’t tense, but it wasn’t comfortable, either. J.B. wondered what he’d done to piss her off. Only one way to find out.

“Whatever I said to upset you, I apologize. It wasn’t intentional. For sure, I don’t want to ruin a great evening.”

She didn’t say anything for several moments before she sighed. “It wasn’t your fault. I’m a little sensitive about people getting drunk.”

He tried not to wince. “A bad experience?”

“You could say.” Her short laugh had a raw edge to it. “My family has an unfortunate tendency to drink too much. As a result, I only have alcohol on rare occasions and then nothing strong.”

J.B. sensed a wealth of pain behind that bald explanation. “Your parents are alcoholics?”

“My whole family drinks heavily. Though, to be fair, so does a lot of the community in the small town I come from in North Carolina,” she clarified. “There aren’t many jobs and even they pay poorly. But alcohol is cheap and helps everyone make it from week to week.”

That explained a lot.

J.B.’s parents had never disappeared into a bottle, but plenty of their neighbors had. Then again, his parents had two sons who’d devoted their lives to keeping the farm afloat.

He pushed aside the familiar guilt twisting his gut because he’d hated that life and got out as soon as he could. It didn’t matter that his earnings now enabled his family to have a financial cushion. He’d always be the black sheep.

J.B. cleared his suddenly tight throat. “The farming community where I grew up has similar problems. A bad crop or a problem with the animals and life gets real tough.”

Bella stopped and looked at him in surprise.

He hitched a shoulder. “You thought I grew up with a silver spoon in my mouth? Everyone was responsible for doing their part on the farm. And as a player, I’ve worked damn hard to earn every penny I have.”

She gave him a chagrined smile. “I never really thought about where you came from or how you got to be where you are.”

He tapped her chin with his finger. “See, you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Really? And you don’t live up to the image you present?”

This time, he did grimace. “Busted. I’ve made more than my share of mistakes because I drank too much. But that doesn’t change the fact that I understand how difficult it is growing up with poverty on your doorstep.”

“In our house, poverty was in the front room, making itself comfortable on the couch.” Bella shook her head. “I’m sorry. This is hardly the topic for a Caribbean evening.”

Even though he was curious to learn more about Bella, he backed off. “No problem. Now I know not to give you alcohol unless you specifically ask for it.”

She wrinkled her nose. “You make me sound like a killjoy.”

“Nah. You forget, my job requires me to be in prime physical condition. I have more than my share of drink-free nights during the season. Especially now that I’m older. My body takes longer to recover at twenty-five than it used to.”

“Twenty-five?” she squeaked, her eyes widening.

“How old did you think I was?”

“I don’t know. My age, I guess. But I’m thirty.”

“Cool. I like older women. And you make a pretty hot cougar.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m hardly cougar material.”

J.B. let his gaze wander slowly, deliberately, down her body. Over those curves, down the length of those gorgeous legs to her dainty feet and back up again. Then he stepped closer. And closer. Until he stood toe-to-toe with her.

Bella held her ground, though he sensed that one wrong move would have her scampering like a scared rabbit. She tilted her head up until their eyes met, then ran her tongue over her lower lip.

He leaned down, just a little, and mimicked her action with his tongue. Once. Twice.

Her eyelids fluttered closed. She dropped her sandals in the sand.

His loafers joined them. Then he took her mouth completely.

He didn’t know how long they stood there locked in each other’s arms, lost in each other’s kisses, but the swirl of cool water around their ankles startled them. They jumped apart, laughing. Realizing the tide had caught their shoes, they retrieved them and headed up to the promenade, holding hands.

It didn’t take long to reach the building where Bella’s room was located. They continued up the stairs to the second floor.

Outside her door, she turned to him. “Would you like to come in for a nightcap?”

Her tentative question was yet another contradiction—her tone was an invitation, but he could read indecision in her eyes.

It would be so easy to give in. Hell, his aroused body was screaming at him to take advantage of what she was offering. If her kisses were this mind-blowing, there was no question the rest would be amazing. Yet she didn’t seem the type who’d be happy with a holiday fling, and he didn’t want anything more. Which meant the whole thing could blow up in his face big-time.

The memory of the crazy redhead who’d stalked him for a year almost made him shudder. He’d naively thought they were on the same page about the one-night stand.

“I’d love to.” The regret in his voice was genuine. “But I don’t think you’re ready to go there tonight.”

He was pleased that her disappointment mirrored his own.

“We both know if I cross that threshold, we won’t be sipping drinks on the balcony.” Gently stroking a wisp of hair from her cheek, he teased, “At least not until breakfast.”

“There was me thinking I’d get it brought to me in bed.”

J.B. laughed softly. Once again she’d surprised him. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He ran a fingertip across her bottom lip, leaned down and gave her one quick, hard kiss, then pulled back with a heavy sigh. “Now go inside before I change my mind.”

“Thank you.” She smiled and turned to open her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Sure. How about breakfast at the beachside restaurant?”

“I’d like that.” She fluttered her fingers at him. “Good night. Sleep well.”

J.B. waited until the door closed behind her and then walked away. As he headed back along the beach to the bungalow, he noticed that the resort was quieter now. He passed several couples, arms wrapped around each other as they made their way to their rooms, and envied them.

He’d been right to leave Bella tonight, no question. But he couldn’t help feeling that doing the right thing sucked.

* * *

THE SNICK OF a key card in the door woke Issy, pulling her out of a very steamy dream starring J. B. Larocque.

She kept her eyes closed for several seconds, trying to hang on to the amazing feelings coursing through her, moaning softly with frustration as they faded. That J.B. featured in her dream was hardly surprising. Although she’d spent the past couple of days on the beach with Sapphie, the evenings had been spent alone with J.B. after her friend and Taylor had disappeared. Both nights had ended with hot, thrilling kisses that even now aroused her.

The lock clicked again, followed by muttered curses. She should get up to help but she wanted desperately to go back to sleep and rekindle the dream that had become...interesting.

Sapphie finally managed to work the key card and crept in, holding her sandals.

“I wasn’t expecting you back until morning.” Issy sat up, leaning on one elbow.

“It is morning.” Sapphie pointed her shoes at the floor-to-ceiling windows where the sun was peaking over the horizon. “And a beautiful one, too.”

“True, but it’s still early. Yesterday and the day before, you got back in time for us to make the last call for breakfast in the restaurant. Is everything okay?”

Her friend flopped onto the bed and yawned. “It’s great, but I must be aging. I need some sleep.” She grinned. “Give hockey players their due—they are the fittest athletes. They have amazing stamina.”

Issy fought the color that rose in her cheeks. She really didn’t need further fuel for her fantasies. She’d seen enough of J.B.’s body to know that he was in prime physical condition. Her palms tingled at the memory of running her hands over the firm muscles in his arms and back. Her nipples tightened, as if they were still pressed to the solid wall of his chest.

“That’s TMI.” Issy hoped her friend would put the husky note in her voice down to her having just woken up.

Sapphie laughed. “That’s exactly the kind of information you need. If you’re going to break your sexual drought, you should do it with the best. J. B. Larocque is perfect. Far better than that other idiot you slept with.”

The problem with best friends was that they knew all your secrets. Like the fact that Issy had only had sex once before, in college, and it had been an unmitigated disaster.

She’d fancied herself in love with the skinny, studious guy who’d sat in front of her in English. He’d been the complete opposite of the hulky, square-jawed jocks who attended reluctantly to fulfill their scholarship criteria. She’d been thrilled when he’d started paying attention to her.

Until the night the jerk had spiked her drink.

Her only consolation was that he’d barely got inside her before he’d come.

Luckily, there hadn’t been an unwanted pregnancy. Still, the whole miserable experience had soured her on men. She’d buried herself in her courses and focused on getting top grades.

“I haven’t made up my mind whether I’m going to—” Issy twirled her finger in the air “—you know.”

Scorching-hot kisses were one thing. Going further was something else altogether. And not just because J.B. had probably slept with hundreds of gorgeous, confident women who were probably wonderful in bed.

“I figured you were dithering when there wasn’t a Do Not Disturb sign on the door.” Sapphie sighed heavily. “This is a great opportunity. You get an amazing night with a superstud like J.B., then you won’t have to see him again. He won’t want more than a fling, either, so it’s a win-win.”

Issy ignored the twinge beneath her breastbone. She didn’t want, nor was she ready for, a relationship right now. Once she got her promotion to head of department, and her future was stable and secure, then she’d think about settling down. Besides, as nice as he was, and as much as he turned her on, J. B. Larocque would not be the right man for her to have a relationship with.

Still, one night was very tempting. “Sounds too good to be true.”

“What could go wrong?” At Issy’s raised eyebrow, Sapphie shook her head. “You’re not Rosabelle. Or our parents. Besides, there’s this wonderful invention called contraception.”

“Funny. I’ve been on the pill since college.”

“Then you’re okay, because J.B. won’t want a child to interfere with his career. Nothing bad will happen because neither of you will let it.”

“I suppose so.” Could she take the risk? Should she?

“You know you want to,” Sapphie said gently. “It’s now or never—we leave tomorrow. I don’t want you to regret a missed opportunity.”

Issy was thirty years old and had never enjoyed anything like that. How many more chances would come her way? Surely, if she was very careful...

“All right.” Issy nodded. “I do want to and I will. Tonight.”

“About time.” Sapphie clapped delightedly.

Anticipation began to fizz through Issy’s veins. “What if he doesn’t want to?”

“Trust me, the man is desperate for you.”

She smiled. “As long as he doesn’t run away from me screaming.”

“Puh-lease. He could’ve spent his vacation with any woman on the island. He’s chosen to be with you.”

“What if I’m not good enough? I’m not exactly experienced and he...is.”

Sapphie’s expression softened. “One of the benefits of his experience is that he’ll understand you’re not and he’ll make sure it’s great for you. He’ll definitely make you forget what happened before.”

“He’d have to be a magician.”

Her friend winked. “From what I’ve heard, he has amazing hands and a...”

“Please don’t mention his magic wand.” Issy rolled her eyes.

They both laughed.

Sapphie yawned again. “Now, I really need some sleep. Especially if I’m going to help you prepare for your big night.”

Issy wished she had her friend’s confidence. “What you mean is you want to make sure you’re ready for one more all-nighter with Taylor.”

“That goes without saying. I plan to enjoy every moment.”

Issy bit her lip. “It doesn’t bother you that it’s only a holiday fling?”

Sapphie shrugged. “It’s what we both want. I’m sure I’ll see him again—probably at a hockey game—but neither of us wants commitment. Would it be nice to hook up again? Of course. Will I be upset if it doesn’t happen? Disappointed, but nothing more.”

“And he feels the same?”

“Sure. We’ve both been up-front about it from the start. As long as these past few days have been as much fun for him as they’ve been for me, then it’s all good.” Sapphie closed her eyes. “See you in a few hours.”

Her friend fell asleep in seconds. Issy, on the other hand, was wide awake. She slipped on the cotton robe the resort had provided and went to sit on the balcony. Pulling her legs up to her chest, she rested her chin on her knees and watched the resort slowly coming to life.

“How do you go about asking a man to sleep with you?” she wondered aloud.

She’d never thought of herself as one of those women who longed to be swept off her feet by a swashbuckling hero, but it would certainly make things less awkward if J.B. could do the honors.

Issy was no closer to figuring out how to even raise the subject with J.B. when Sapphie awoke and they headed to the beach for the day. Taylor and J.B. joined them after lunch and the four decamped to the pool bar, where they frolicked in the water and enjoyed cocktails. Issy was touched that J.B. made a point of ordering her the virgin version of whatever colorful concoction they were drinking.

She watched his behavior closely. Sapphie was right; he didn’t look at anyone but Issy, even though there were several stunning women who tried to get his attention. Not only was J.B. solicitous, but he also touched her a lot. Her arm, her shoulder, tucking a curl behind her ear, playing footsie with her when they were seated on the bar stools. When she lay on the pool float, he rested his arms beside her and occasionally dropped a kiss on her lips.

Each touch, each kiss, heated her blood far more than the blazing temperatures. They also built her confidence so that she found herself impatient for the sun to go down.

* * *

“A TOAST TO the four most fabulous people in Antigua.” Sapphie raised a champagne flute.

“Make that the Caribbean,” J.B. added, clinking his glass against hers.

“You guys are too modest. It’s the world.” Taylor grinned.

“I’ll drink to that.” Issy took J.B.’s glass and sipped from it before returning it to him.

The look he sent her was so hot, her skin practically sizzled. When he made a point of placing his lips exactly where hers had been, Issy’s insides turned liquid. The promise in his dark eyes suggested he might be the mind reader she’d hoped for.

Dessert couldn’t come quickly enough.

Issy’s nerves returned when Sapphie and Taylor left them to go dancing. The moment of truth was getting ever closer.

“How about a walk along the beach?” J.B. took her hand, pressed his mouth to the pulse point at her wrist, then linked fingers with her.

She smiled. “Sounds perfect.”

They took off their shoes, headed down to the water’s edge and strolled through the water until they were away from the main part of the resort. While they walked, they talked—about her job and his, about his family and hers. They carefully avoided mentioning the future, not even what they’d be doing when they got home.

At the end of the property there was a long stretch of empty beach with no buildings or lights, only a few palm trees. The moon turned the sand silver, making the place look magical. J.B. and Issy sat beneath one of the trees—he leaned against the trunk, while she sat between his legs, as she had during that crazy dance on the night they’d met—and watched the twinkling lights of the vessels out at sea.

And kissed.

Long, slow, deep kisses. Hot, hard, urgent kisses.

Soon, it wasn’t enough. J.B. jumped up and helped her to her feet. Arms wrapped tightly around each other, they didn’t stop walking until they were outside her door.

This time, Issy didn’t invite J.B. in for a nightcap. Now that the moment was actually here, she couldn’t say the words. Her throat was too tight. Her mouth too dry. So she grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. Then she took the Do Not Disturb notice and hung it on the handle before closing the door.