Bound to Happen. Alison Kent

might work to her advantage. The island offered more privacy than she would ever have found on the yacht. And privacy would play nicely into her plans to seduce Ray Coffey. Suddenly, Sydney realized, this adventure held more promise than she’d originally thought when forced to relocate earlier today.

      She turned her attention back to the beach, where the three men were now engaged in a round of extreme Frisbee among the coconut palms. She had a dozen other things she could be doing; beach Frisbee was not exactly a spectator sport. Yet, try as she might, she couldn’t tear her gaze from Ray.

      He dived to catch Anton’s toss, and Sydney drank in the intoxicating visual. Ray’s long torso extended, delineating his rib cage and hair-dusted pectorals, emphasizing the length of his scar. His reaching arm stretched, beautifully elongating his biceps and forearms. She took in the spread of his fingers when he palmed the Frisbee down to the sand.

      Blood surged through Sydney until her nerves hummed wildly from fingers to toes. She wanted him in ways she found surprising. Physical ways that had never been a part of her experience, yet lived vividly in her fantasies. Since his return to Houston late last year, Ray had made it more than clear that the attraction remained mutual, which made Sydney laugh. They’d been so young and innocent that first time….

      Sensing movement at her side, she looked up to see she’d been joined on the veranda by Poe, wearing a pair of plain black sarong pants tied well below her waist. Her matching triangle bikini top left little of her porcelain curves to the imagination. She also wore a look of disgust that pulled Sydney’s attention from the beach. “Are you okay?”

      “In what context?” Poe asked, dusting her hands together as if to rid them of something unpleasant. “Medically? Financially? Socially?”

      Sydney couldn’t help appreciating her co-worker’s theatrical flair. Or her predicament. “In this situation? Socially, for sure.”

      Poe rolled her eyes. Irises of near black and a slight almond slant to her lids emphasized her exotic Asian-American looks, as did the slashed angles and layers of hair framing her cheekbones. “Considering I was so looking forward to this trip, I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…”

      She ruffled both hands through her hair and lifted her chin. “I am thrilled beyond belief to be shipwrecked. We would no doubt have ended up at the bottom of the sea, anyway, once we factored in the weight of the eggshells.”

      “Eggshells?” Sydney asked with a frown.

      Poe’s elegant brows shot up archly. “To walk on? Don’t tell me you thought fifty-seven feet would be enough room for Lauren and Anton’s emotional baggage. From what I’ve seen so far, even your father’s twelve acres might be a tight fit.”

      Sydney felt a sharp pang of guilt. She hadn’t thought the ex-lovers would start tossing verbal barbs the minute the group set sail. And the fact that Anton had been seeing Poe on a casual basis had never factored into Sydney’s decision to invite both women—which it apparently should have. Nothing serious was going on between the two, as everyone but Lauren seemed to know.

      “Where is Lauren, anyway?” Sydney asked.

      Poe gave a sideways tip of her head. “She’s in the kitchen with Kinsey and Jess. They’re working on…dinner.”

      “Great. I’m starving.”

      This time Poe took a moment to apparently weigh her appetite against the kitchen skills of the temporary help. “Tell me again what’s happening with the staff? I saw their boat leave earlier, but I was on the Indiscreet packing my things, so I never did hear for sure what was going on.”

      Sydney nodded, then indulged in a private smile. Neither Poe nor any of the guests needed to worry about the quality of the meals after this evening’s. “The Duartes. Auralie and Menga. They weren’t expecting us to be here but for the one day and had only stocked limited provisions. When they found out we’d be staying, they had to make a trip to the mainland for supplies. They’ll be back tomorrow.”

      Swinging her legs down from the railing, Sydney got to her feet, settling automatically into the role of hostess, which she’d acted here for Nolan so many times. “Wait until you see what Auralie can do with tomatoes, roasted chicken and black beans. Unbelievable.”

      Poe cast a wistful glance at her audibly protesting stomach. “I was hoping to eat before tomorrow.”

      “I don’t know about Lauren or Jess, but Kinsey’s a decent cook. And if we hurry, we can stop any disaster in the making.”

      “If it’s all the same to you, I’d just as soon stay out of the kitchen.” Poe dug in her heels. “I’m afraid I’m on Lauren’s hit list, and I’ve learned to be picky about who I let shoot me down.”

      Sydney threaded her hands through her hair and fluffed. This fiasco she’d created was rocketing out of control. The time had come to play peacemaker—though she had to admit that spending her vacation in mediation held zero appeal.

      There were times she wished she’d inherited less of her father’s mind for negotiation and more of her mother’s in-your-face style. This was one of those times. “Well, then. We’ll just have to trust those three with dinner, won’t we? As scary a thought as that may be.”

      “Scary isn’t the half of it,” Poe said with a huff.

      “Dinner will be fine.” Sydney adjusted the knot of her sarong. “If not, we can dig into my stash of Rice Krispies treats.”

      “And for the next ten days?”

      “We’ll have to ration.”

      Poe shook her head and moved her hands to her hips. “Not the food. The tension.”

      Sydney studied the other woman’s wits-end demeanor, sympathizing with Poe’s uncomfortable plight. “You’re talking about the tension between Lauren and Anton.”

      “Between Lauren and Anton. Between Lauren and me. I haven’t had a true, nonworking vacation in years. And I am not about to have this one ruined by this unresolved thing between those two.” Poe looked out toward the beach where the game of Frisbee was still going on.

      Then she looked back at Sydney and shrugged. “Anton and I are friends, that’s it. But if I’m going to be tried and convicted of being more, then why shouldn’t I reap the obvious fruits of committing the crime? It’s not like he’s the least bit hard on the eyes.”

      Anton was totally gorgeous, Sydney had to agree. But she was also quite sure Poe was perfectly capable of answering her own question. “I think we both know you don’t have it in you to hurt Lauren that way.”

      Poe blew out an inelegant snort. “Too bad the reverse isn’t true.”

      Sydney’s mouth twisted. “Lauren’s just overly sensitive when it comes to Anton. I doubt she has anything against you personally.”

      “Well, either she wants to be with Anton or she doesn’t. She’s trying hard to have it both ways, and it’s hardly fair to the rest of us. I mean, look out there.” Poe lifted her chin, indicating the human scenery—three men whipping the Frisbee across the beach. “Tell me what you see.”

      What Sydney saw was more than Poe could imagine. Images that even Sydney wasn’t sure were memories or the creative workings of her mind. And none of her thoughts were anything she wanted to explain or to share. Not with Poe. Not with anyone.

      Ray was her fantasy, her mind-candy, as were her plans for his seduction. “Well, I see an absolutely gorgeous tropical sunset. I see a postcard-worthy scene of palm trees and rippling waves and a beach clean enough to eat off. But I have a feeling you’re talking about Anton, Doug and Ray.”

      “Exactly.” Poe moved closer to the veranda railing, hitched one hip onto the edge. “Three very appealing possibilities for an exciting vacation fling.”

      Sydney had already narrowed her own possibilities down to one. And she had matchmaking plans for a second.