The Billion Dollar Pact. Sheri WhiteFeather

He wasn’t an expert on the language, but he’d dated a French actress for a few whirlwind months. “I think that’s actually a woman’s name, too.”

      “Then it’s perfect. She’ll be Océan.”

      He smiled. “It definitely works.”

      “Yes, it does. When she’s washed into the sea, she’ll be dissolving into her name.”

      “What’s the origin of your name?” This woman who was fueling his fantasies, he thought. His temporary lover.

      “It’s a song or a hymn.”

      “Oh, of course. That makes sense.” He analyzed his own name. “Jacob means supplanter because, in the Bible, Jacob was born holding his twin brother’s heel.”

      “I’ve never heard of that word.”

      “A supplanter takes the place of someone or something else.”

      “Really? Hmm. Who are you taking over for?”

      “How about the kinds of guys you normally date?” He touched her cheek, skimming his finger across her skin.

      Her breathing grew quiet. “That’s a clever analogy. With how different you are from them.”

      He thought about how she sewed pieces of material together to document her life. “Are you going to make a quilt to mark this weekend?”

      Her lashes fluttered. “Do you think I should?”

      He nodded. “You can use fabrics with beachy things on them. An island, a mermaid, a sandcastle.”

      “What should I use to represent us?” she asked.

      He trailed his hand down, following the line of her collarbone. “You could steal the sheets off my bed and cut them into little squares.”

      “Jake.” She admonished him, but she shivered from his touch, too. “I’ll figure something else out.”

      “Does that mean you’re going to make the quilt?”

      “I don’t know.” She seemed to be considering the idea, contemplating the design. “Maybe.”

      “You could give it to me as a gift.”

      “Really? You’d want it?”

      “Sure.” He toyed with the mesh on her cover-up, poking at the holes. “It can be a part of our secret after we get home. Something for us to remember being together.”

      She leaned toward him. “Wouldn’t it be better for us to try to forget?”

      In lieu of a response, he kissed her. For now, he didn’t want to forget. She reacted favorably, her lips warm and pliable against his. After they separated, they sat back to watch the fire.

      Jake glanced over and saw that the ingredients for the s’mores were being passed around. “Are you ready for dessert?”

      She nodded, and soon they were engaged in making the sticky treats. He took the liberty of watching her eat hers, just as he’d wanted to do.

      “Everyone is supposed to go crabbing later,” he said. “If they want to,” he added. No one had to do anything that didn’t appeal to them.

      “Tonight?” She didn’t just lick the goo from her lips. She licked it from her fingers, too. “I thought we’d be doing that tomorrow morning on a boat.”

      “No. This is a nighttime activity. They’re giant land crabs, so we’ll be searching for them, going into the brush, along the inland trails, armed with flashlights. But we have to be quick and quiet, so we’ll be splitting into separate groups once everyone gets the gist of it. So, do you want to join in?”

      She nodded. “I’ll give it a try. But it sounds sort of scary, being out there in the dark.”

      “I promise I’ll protect you.” He watched while she made herself another s’more. “We’ll have to put on some warmer clothes. They’ll be giving us gloves and buckets and whatever else we’ll need. The caretakers of the house are going to be our guides.”

      “That’s good.” She focused on her task, placing her marshmallows just so. “But I’m going to stay close to you, for sure.”

      “That’s not a problem.” He wanted to keep her as close as possible. “I don’t know how many we’ll catch, but the island is supposed to be filled with them this time of year. The chef is going to incorporate our catch into the breakfast menu.”

      “I wish tomorrow wasn’t our last day.”

      “Me, too.” They would be flying out, just before sunset, and going back to their regular lives. But for now, they were still here, immersed in the romance that had become their affair.

       Eight

      This was it, Carol thought as she stood on her veranda, breathing in the tropical air. Soon, she and Jake would be leaving the Caribbean.

      Already feeling nostalgic, she smiled, remembering last night’s crabbing expedition. She’d squealed like a child when she’d nabbed her first giant blue crustacean. Jake had been right by her side, as promised, making the experience sweet and fun and romantic. Nonetheless, hunting and gathering wasn’t her forte.

      Eating was, though. She’d enjoyed the crab-stuffed crepes they’d had for breakfast. For lunch, they’d had French cuisine, served in the dining room, where everyone had gathered for their final meal, talking and laughing, before they’d parted ways.

      Some guests were already gone by now and others, like Carol and Jake, were preparing to depart.

      She returned to her room, where her suitcase sat, carefully packed. After Jake finished jamming his belongings into his, they would head out for the helipad. When they got to the other island where they’d originally landed, they would board the jet that would take them home.

      She checked on Jake to see how he was coming along and found him looking as handsome as ever, dressed in blue jeans and a loose cotton shirt, with a shiny packet in his hand.

      Carol gaped at him. “Where you did get that?” As far as she knew, they’d used the final condom last night, after they’d come back from crabbing and climbed in the tub together, taking a long sensual bath.

      “It was in my luggage, but in a different compartment from where I usually keep them. It was lodged in the corner, so the edges are bent. But other than that...”

      She caught her breath. “Do we have time to use it?”

      “We’ll make time.” With lightning speed, he swept her into his arms. They kissed like crazy, tongue-to-tongue, instantly hungry for the forbidden taste of each other.

      He backed her against a nightstand, and she opened his zipper and pushed her hand inside. His eyes went glassy as he pressed into her palm, letting her feel him up.

      After a few anxious heartbeats, he went after her, lifting the hem of her soft summer dress and removing her panties. In the next frantic second, he shoved his jeans down and donned the protection.

      Carol sat on the edge of the nightstand, and as he thrust into her, she locked her legs around him, pulling him closer.

      “I like that you don’t wear underwear,” she told him.

      “You should stop wearing it, too.”

      She couldn’t fathom it, not in her daily life. “I’m too proper for that.”

      He nipped at her chin with his teeth, gently, wildly. “Yes, you should see how proper you look right now, with your dress hiked up around your hips.”

      Her bottom was getting sore from the friction of the wood beneath her, but she didn’t care. “I couldn’t find my