The Dare Collection: July 2018. Nicola Marsh

was grinning like the cat who’d eaten the canary. “I don’t know if that’s adorable beyond measure or cheesy as hell.”

      “Both.” She tried to sound unimpressed, but the stupid smile wouldn’t go away. “It’s lame.”

      “It is not lame. He’s smitten.” Becka eyed her. “You’re both smitten.”

      “I can’t be smitten with Roman Bassani. We only have a few days left and then it’s back to being enemies again.” The thought dimmed her smile like nothing else had been able to. It was strange to think a time would come when she and Roman would be adversaries, but there was no real alternative. He wanted her gym. She would never give it up. End of story—end of them. Nothing that happened while they were on the island would change that.

      Becka poked at the snacks that had been delivered and chose a selection of fruit. “You know he has a client who wants to invest in Transcend. Do you know why?”

      “For the same reason all the other investors came around when they realized I wasn’t making ends meet as well as I would have liked. They think they can jump on the trendy fitness-nutrition combo and franchise it. They don’t care about the shelter—and they’d probably cut it out completely if they had control. It’s a money pit, after all, and it’s not like they’re invested in any of those women’s futures.” Allie shook her head sharply. “No. I can’t risk it. Business isn’t so bad that we have to give in to the kind of offer Roman and people like him are bringing us. We’re doing just fine.” Not really fine at all. She should have organized a fund-raiser or something for the shelter, but she was so busy running the gym that the thought of adding anything else to her plate was too much to deal with. So she’d put it off.

      She was regretting it now.

       Too little, too late.

      “How do you know?”

      She pulled herself back into the present. “What?”

      “How do you know what Roman has planned for Transcend?” Becka popped a piece of pineapple into her mouth. “Have you talked about it?”

      “No. And we’re not going to.” At her friend’s incredulous look, she glared. “You wanted me to have hot vacation sex, and hot vacation sex includes not talking about work. That’s the only condition Roman and I put on this thing, so hell if I’m going to break the rules. It’s just going to end in another fight, and this one we might not be able to screw our way out of.” She ran her hand over her face. “What am I doing? This whole thing was a mistake.”

      Becka jumped to her feet. “Oh, no, you don’t! I’m sorry I pushed buttons. I thought I was just asking a question.” She hurried to Allie and guided her toward her own room. “Go get ready. Then get your ass back in here and have a shot with me for sure mutual courage. Then we’ll never speak of this again—at least for the next few days.”

      “You don’t have to be sorry. I’m the one acting batty.” She paused just inside her doorway. “I like him.”

      “I know you do, honey.”

      She didn’t know if that was comforting or worrisome, so she didn’t comment on it. She just gently shut the door between them and dug through her suitcase for something that would be qualified as dressing to the nines. She’d packed a couple nice dresses, just in case, and she laid them both out on her mostly unused bed. One was a simple little black dress that was flowy and showed her cleavage to perfection. The other was a two-piece with a stretchy nude pencil skirt and a cropped bustier top that showed a sliver of skin between them. Normally for something resembling a first date, she’d play it safe with the LBD and leave the trendier choice for once she’d figured out if the guy was a douche or not.

      But she already knew what Roman was—and what he thought of her.

      Allie’s grin reappeared. The cropped top and skirt it was.

      She took extra time getting ready, styling her hair in perfect beach waves and keeping her makeup light enough that it wouldn’t melt off her face the second she left the villa—or once she and Roman got to whatever he had planned for dessert. She finished off the look with her strappy wedge sandals. With their three-inch heel, she’d be almost as tall as him, and the idea pleased her more than it probably should have. Roman’s masculinity wasn’t so fragile that he needed her to cut herself down to make him feel better. It was one of the things she liked about him.

       I like a lot of things about him.

       Stop it.

      Becka grinned when Allie walked back into the main area of the villa. “Ooooh, someone has their seductive panties on tonight.”

      “I’m not wearing any.”

      Her friend laughed. “Which just serves to support my point. After that little show on the boat earlier, if he doesn’t fall on you like a starving man the second he sees you, I’ll eat my shoe.”

      Allie wasn’t prepared to take Roman’s response to seeing her—whatever it would be—for granted, so she just shook her head and started for the exit. “See you in the morning?”

      “As long as by morning you mean after eleven.” Becka set her fork and plate in the sink. “Luke is meeting me here after his shift, and I plan to rock him all night long.”

      “You like this guy?”

      Becka shrugged. “I like parts of him. He doesn’t have the most stimulating of personalities, but he’s got a monster cock and magic hands, so he’s perfect for the time and place.” Her smile was sunny but didn’t quite reach her eyes. “You know me—I don’t do that messy emotional bullshit. I like my life how it is. I don’t have time for some needy dude expecting me to bend over backward to rearrange it for him.”

      There was a story there, but in all the years Allie had known Becka, she’d never got to the heart of it. Despite her friend’s carefree spirit, Becka had a hard line when it came to anything resembling a relationship. She liked to laugh away the serious stuff whenever they got close to talking about it, and Allie respected the unspoken request to not bring it up.

      Then again, Allie hadn’t done more than casually date in that time, either, so she wasn’t one to talk.

      “Shots!” Becka poured vodka into two glasses and passed one over. “To a night of wall-banging sex and living our vacation to the fullest.”

      They clinked glasses. “Tomorrow, why don’t we do something with just us?” Allie suggested.

      “Sure...as long as you aren’t using me as a shield against Roman.” Becka downed her shot without a grimace. “If you want to spend the rest of this trip with him, then you should. I’m more than capable of keeping myself occupied, and it’s not like we don’t spend more time with each other in New York than we do with anyone else in our lives.”

      There was no arguing that, but... She took her shot, closing her eyes as the alcohol burned its way down her throat and created a comforting warmth in her stomach. “I don’t want to abandon you.” She wasn’t sure she wanted to be that close with Roman, either. It was already hard to keep the boundaries in her head between them—between the island and New York, between the present and the inevitable future. Getting to know him better would make it worse.

      Except...

      “I’ll think about it.”

      “Do that.” Becka plucked the shot glass from her hand. “Now get out of here. Five bucks says he bangs you right there on the patio.”

      “You really need to stop making bets about how quickly Roman and I get to banging.” But she laughed all the same. She could shelve all her worries about what the future held—at least for a few more days.

      Allie would figure out the rest when she got back to New York.

       CHAPTER