Still So Hot!. Serena Bell

      If he leaned back, his shoulder would trap hers against the backrest. When she’d ridden in cabs with him years ago in New York, the middle seat had kept a safe foot of distance between them.

      She was breathless from triumph and hurrying across the tarmac, not to mention the scary driving. The amount of space Brett took up in the cab had nothing to do with it. Neither did the heat pouring off him or the scent of fresh male sweat and that still familiar Old Spice.

      She certainly wasn’t breathless from imagining what that hard thigh would feel like, eased between hers, or because she could remember the exact silken slip of his tongue against hers.

      He’s your client’s date.

      She inched toward the window until there was a narrow strip of space between their bodies. And began to work on slowing her breathing.

      Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She pulled it out. The text was from an unknown number.

      He said yes! (This is Sherry fr plane. Flight attndt.)

      A big grin spread over Elisa’s face.

      Of course he did. Have fun!

      Her phone buzzed right away.

      THK U.

      Keep me updated.

      IOU

      Give my card to a friend who lives in NYC.

      Will do.

      “You text fast,” Brett observed.

      Elisa laughed. “Sometimes people desperately need advice in the middle of their dates. I have, like, three seconds to tell them how to keep the date going or end it ASAP. Texting fast is a career skill.”

      “What kinds of things do they ask?”

      I wore granny panties! What do I do if he wants to come in? “Oh, like, ‘Should I let him pick up the check?’”

      “And what do you say?”

      Go to the restroom and take them off! “‘There are no rules. Go with your gut.’ Or ‘If he offered, yes.’”

      “Not, ‘For God’s sake, woman, don’t do it! He’s probably a jerk, and if you let him pay, he’ll expect sex’?”

      She glared at him and resumed paging through her texts.

      The next one was from Haven. How’s it going?

      Great so far. Didn’t have to wait for cab. On way to hotel.

      The phone vibrated in her hand. Glad to hear it.

      Can I call you when I get to the resort? Slight complication. Pretty sure I’ve got it under control, just wanted a second opinion.

      I’ll be here.

      The Jeep zoomed by a small cluster of shops on the right. She was surprised to find the island dustier and less jungle-verdant than she’d been expecting. Not Hawaii—spikier, more arid and windier—but beautiful nonetheless, even with vines and strange succulent plants that looked like they might eat people.

      “So what’s the plan, Queen of Hearts? How long do I stick around?”

      “Elisa’s going to take off. So you and I can hang out.” Celine smiled her glossiest television smile.

      She felt Brett’s surprise. For a moment she let herself enjoy his discomfort. Served him right for picking up celebrities in drugstores and agreeing to fly to Caribbean islands with them. Served him right for—

      She had to stop hating him. It was such an impediment to getting over him. She needed to feel nothing. Blank, neutral, maybe a mild irritation, like you’d feel at a housefly that had gotten into your kitchen.

      “Celine said she’d like to postpone the boot camp weekend.”

      He frowned at Elisa, then turned his head to speak to Celine. “Look.”

      Oh, God, this was exactly what she’d been trying to prevent.

      “Celine. You’re a sweet girl. And this is an awkward situation.”

      He sounded so warm. So smooth. She’d never actually heard him dump a woman before, but it didn’t surprise her that he was as skilled at it as he was at making conquests. Why not? He had abundant experience with both.

      “If the circumstances were different, I’d love to get to know you better. Take our time. But this is just—” His gesture encompassed the three of them, the cab, the whole island. The paved road gave way to something bumpier, narrower and altogether less civilized. “This is bad juju. You’re better off letting Elisa show you the ropes. There’s a whole island waiting for you out there, and loads of men who are nicer than I am. Take my word for it.”

      Had every woman he’d slept with and dumped gotten this speech? Elisa should be thankful she’d been spared. Maybe walking away from their friendship had been the smartest move she could make. It certainly seemed like genius now.

      Celine shifted uncomfortably. Elisa had never realized exactly how small a Jeep could feel. Though—as another car sped by and nearly took off the side of their vehicle—not small enough.

      He hadn’t left Celine any wiggle room. It was kind of brilliant, if you admired it coldly from the outside. What could Celine say, really?

      Huh.

      Then Elisa knew. Ha! Perfect answer. Not that she could convey it to Celine in the confines of the cab—no way to do that discreetly.

      What Celine should say was Actually? Nice isn’t my thing.

      Of course, if she did say that—and in a tone of voice pitched somewhere between matter-of-fact and mildly suggestive—Elisa would have to throw herself out of the moving cab, because at that point she wouldn’t be the ref in a boxing match, she’d be a dry log caught in the middle of a conflagration. Because that comeback would definitely catch Brett on fire. She couldn’t have said how she knew it, but she knew dirty talk was one of his buttons.

      Sometimes, during their friendship, she’d heard come-ons and rejoinders in her head—naughty, flirty words, a hard pressure behind her tongue. Sometimes she’d wished she were a little drunker so she could let them slip out and pretend they were a mistake. She’d wanted to watch the heat rise, see the flare of lust in his eyes. Then she could have let her gaze drop to measure how much her words had affected him.

      But always the next morning she’d been glad she hadn’t. And by evening she’d been gloriously thankful, as she watched him make yet another conquest, the starting gun for one more twenty-four-hour relationship.

      For all those years, she’d been so careful, knowing that if she ever said the words that popped into her head, if she’d pushed the buttons, if she’d unleashed the heat she sensed in him, she’d only have become another twenty-four-hour girl.

      And then that night, the night he’d kissed her, she’d let down her guard. She’d felt the precipice, and she’d hurled herself off it. And she’d gotten exactly what she’d known she would. He’d made her into yet another conquest. Only she hadn’t even lasted twenty-four hours. More like twenty-four minutes, if that.

      Beside her, Celine sighed. She lowered her head, stared out the window and said, “Yeah. Okay.”

      Elisa risked a glance at Brett. There was a small smile, something like triumph, on his face. And behind Elisa’s tongue, desire that she bit back and swallowed.

      5

      BRETT SHADED HIS eyes with his hand. Nice scenery. Lush foliage and big tropical flowers and a horizon pool, built to look as if the water went straight on forever. The pool was the same