Tempted in the Tropics (6 page)

Chapter Seven

Lane had made it all the way through customs in the Hewanorra airport in St. Lucia, and he hadn’t seen anyone he recognized. Not that he’d recognize too many people who were coming to the wedding. But he expected he might run into
someone
he knew, especially once he arrived, although his parents weren’t getting in until late that night. He reached into his backpack and pulled out the e-mail he’d printed from the travel agent. The next thing he needed to figure out was how he was actually getting from here to the resort.

“I think I’ve got what you’re looking for,” a woman said from behind him.

He turned to see Paige standing there with a smart-ass smile on her face and a suitcase nearly as big as she was. His heart threatened arrhythmia as he checked out her incredibly sexy legs that seemed to go on forever even though she wasn’t tall.
Nice.
She wore short shorts and a snug tie-dyed T-shirt that had him nearly dizzy with all the colorful swirls rising over the swell of her breasts. Her hair—minus the pink stripe—was swept back in a sleek ponytail with a few stray strands framing her face. Lane hoped she didn’t notice the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed hard. Things were starting to feel pretty tropical already. He flashed her a genuine smile. She
definitely
had what he was looking for, but they were too different and too pissed off at each other to do anything about it.

She tugged her bottom lip between her teeth, riveting his attention. “I think we’re heading to the resort together.”

At least she was speaking to him in full sentences now, but he could tell this wasn’t the setup she preferred. “You’ve got the transportation details?”

She reached into the back pocket of her blessedly short shorts and came out with a set of keys dangling from her delicate fingers. “
We
have an SUV.”

Lane’s stomach clenched. “You’re driving? Everything’s opposite here, you know. Driver on the right side of the car, car on the left side of the road.”

“Awesome, right? I’ve never driven like that before.”

He winced. “Good to know.”

She shrugged one of her shoulders. “I figured we’d go to the drive-in volcano on the way.”

“Drive-in volcano?”

“Yep.” She reached into her tote bag, pulled out a brochure with a smoky gray pit shown on the front, and handed it to him. “Simmering, steamy, and sulfur-smelling.”

Lane scrunched his nose, then gazed straight into Paige’s eyes. “You had me at simmering and steamy.”

She held his gaze for a beat, then blinked, a sultry smile at the corners of her mouth. “Good to know.”

Was she actually flirting with him? The other day he could barely get an entire sentence out of her. Maybe being in the tropics, two thousand miles away from Maple Creek, had them seeing things from a different perspective. Or she just felt stuck with him until they got to the resort, and she didn’t want an argument about who was going to drive.

They headed out to the SUV and Lane loaded their luggage. Paige settled in the driver’s seat, with him riding shotgun. As much as he’d rather be driving, he’d have a hard time concentrating on the road with Paige sitting next to him, her smooth, toned, and distractingly bare legs stretched out in front of her. He’d been trained to look at bodies clinically, but legs like hers really challenged his discipline.

“Since you’re stuck with me until we get to the resort…,” Paige said. Had she read his mind? The magic thing was making him a little paranoid. “I was thinking we could call a truce.”

So she’d been setting him up with her flirting. Whatever her reasons, he had to admit he’d enjoyed it. “A truce?”

She nodded. “I kind of apologize for what I wrote in the letter to Mrs. Hawthorne.”

“You
kind of
apologize?” Of course she couldn’t say she was sorry like a normal person.

“Take it or leave it, Doc.”

Lane tapped his fingers on the console, deliberately making her wait. “Guess I’ll take it, if that’s the best you can do.” He winked. “And I
sort of
regret how things have gone, too.”

One corner of her mouth turned up as she put the key in the ignition.

“Sure you don’t want me to drive?” he asked.

She raised one of her perfectly arched eyebrows. “That would be against the law, Doctor. You haven’t filled out the proper forms and, as I recall, you’re quite a tight-ass about the rules.”

She was right. He
had
come across as a tight-ass, and for good reason. But she had no idea what his reasons were, and he wasn’t going to explain them to her now. “Did you just call me a tight-ass?”

Paige surprised him by blushing a little, then nodding defiantly and setting her chin.

“Were you talking figuratively or literally?” He surprised himself with the question. Was
he
actually flirting with
her
? A rush of excitement buzzed through him like a couple of energy drinks’ worth of caffeine.

“Yes.”

He laughed for the first time in who knew when.

She smiled, seeming pleased with herself, and started the engine. “Buckle up, Doc. This is gonna be one hell of a ride.”

…

Lane had caught Paige’s eye from all the way across the airport—all tall and sexy, with his usual messy hair, dressed in worn-out jeans and a sort-of-snug T-shirt the same shade of green as his eyes. Thanks to the tee, she’d gotten her first glimpse of his ropy arm muscles, and a tease of six-pack abs when he’d lifted their luggage into the SUV. Sylvia and Liza couldn’t have hooked her up with a hotter travel companion, but they could’ve picked one she could actually get along with. Even so, she wasn’t going to let that stop her from seeing the sights she’d picked on the way to Caldera.

Driving was a little trickier than Paige had thought. She’d managed to handle the opposite-side-of-the-car, opposite-side-of-the-road thing pretty well, but the real freak-out was the crazy local drivers whipping their pickups around the hairpin turns on the mountain roads with a bunch of St. Lucians chilling in the back as if they weren’t in danger of getting tossed out on their heads.

“Ever thought about starting a practice here?” she asked Lane. “Looks like you’d have a lot of patients. Who knows how many people get thrown out of those trucks every day. And people drive like nuts.” She swerved to avoid an oncoming car that had veered onto their side of the road.

Lane jerked his head toward the passenger window, no doubt checking out the steep drop-off they’d be tumbling down if Paige had overcorrected. “You’re a regular Danica Patrick.”

She wished she could see his expression, but she could be risking their lives with just a glance.

He reached over, pinched a lock of her ponytail between his fingers, smoothed it down to the end, and tugged gently. Shocked by his bold move, Paige’s insides fluttered as she struggled to concentrate on the road.

“What happened to the pink stripe?” he asked.

“I had to ditch it for the wedding. It would’ve totally clashed with my Orioles orange bridesmaid dress.”

“Orange?” He sounded as if he liked the idea about as much as Paige did—even less than not at all.

“You know the Sutherlands and their ties to the Orioles. Most of Liza’s and Sylvia’s clothes are black or orange…or both. Since the Nats won the World Series, Cole told Liza she could have the Orioles colors for their wedding.”

“Pretty generous of him, considering.” Lane shook his head. “Black and orange. They should’ve just waited for Halloween.”

“For real.”

Had they just agreed on something? Surely this couldn’t last.

“I’m all for making my BFF’s wedding day perfect,” she said, “but orange is definitely not my color.”

“But the pink stripe in your hair was really working for you.”

Her stomach fluttered. “It was?”

“You sound surprised.”

Paige debated—for once—whether to say what she was thinking. But then she figured there was no reason to change who she was for him. “I didn’t get the idea you thought anything about me was working.”

They were on a short straightaway, so she risked a glance at him, catching him with his eyebrows raised and his kissable lips slightly parted. “Then maybe I gave you the wrong idea.”

Chapter Eight

“I thought this was a drive-in volcano,” Lane said as soon as they pulled into the parking lot at Sulphur Springs.

Paige whipped the SUV into the first available spot and cut the engine. “Not exactly, but that’s what they call it. From what I could tell when I researched it, we have to walk up to an overlook to behold the geological wonder of it all.”

Lane scrunched his nose at the first whiff of sulfur. “But we don’t have to go far to smell it.”

Paige crinkled her nose, too. “We’ll get used to it, won’t we? People always come into Sweet Bee’s and say how awesome it smells, but I don’t even notice anymore.”

“It’s called sensory adaptation.”

She lowered her eyebrows, a shallow crease forming between them. “I shoulda figured there was some doctor lingo for it.” She shrugged her narrow shoulders. “Well, let’s go so we can hurry up and adapt.”

Lane got out of the SUV, jogged around, and opened the door for Paige. He’d been raised to be a gentleman—and, whether they got along with each other or not, he didn’t want to miss seeing her getting out of the SUV in those short shorts. Okay, not very gentlemanly, but beneath his doctor persona, he was a normal red-blooded guy. And any normal, red-blooded guy would be crazy to miss that show.

He watched Paige as she stepped down, hoping his sunglasses would keep her from catching his gaze lingering where it shouldn’t.

“Let’s go see this volcano that you’re all worked up about.”

“Who’s all worked up?” she asked as they headed to buy their tickets.

“You are. You said you researched the place—you even have the brochure. Where do you get brochures anymore?”

“In the airport while you’re waiting for an uptight doctor’s plane to land.” She bunched her lips.

Lane gently grabbed her elbow and stopped her. “Uptight doctor?” She’d struck a raw nerve, calling him that again after she’d
kind of
apologized for doing it before. But did she have a point?

He’d had structure in his life since the moment he was conceived. His parents had planned everything out for him even before that. It had paid off, getting him through med school and residency, and the opening and operation of a successful practice—for a while. He’d found a fiancée who’d fit the mold, too…until she’d broken it and crushed it to bits. His parents still had no idea about the extent of what she’d done. Her professional misconduct had been widely reported, but her personal betrayal of him was too painful—and embarrassing—to share with anyone. Better for people to think it was the fallout from the pill-prescribing scandal that had come between them.

So much for what he’d gotten from structure. Maybe it was time for him to do something totally spontaneous for a change. Something unplanned and temporary—maybe even risky.

He leaned in close to Paige and said with a low drawl, “By the time we leave this island, you’ll know better than that.”

For a split second, Paige looked stunned. “What does that mean?” she asked as they neared the ticket window.

“You’ll see.” Big words, considering he wasn’t exactly sure what he meant himself.

“We’ll have two combo tickets,” Paige said to the pleasant clerk.

Lane pulled his wallet from his back pocket and paid for the tickets while Paige was still rummaging in her purse.

“Thank you, sir,” the clerk said with a lilting accent, handing him the tickets. “Enjoy.”

They stepped away from the window. “Thanks for paying,” Paige said. “I owe you.”

“I’ll remember that,” he said lightly. “What’s the combo deal? We get to see
and
smell the volcano?”

She stuck her nose in the air and inhaled deeply. “The smell is free. I mean, they’d have to give that away, right? Or maybe they’re just prepping us to buy the Island Sulfur–scented candles they sell in the gift shop.”

Lane smiled as they headed up the steps to the overlook. Some of the things she thought of would never cross his mind.

A group of tourists and a guide gathered at the far end of the overlook. Paige and Lane stepped up to the railing to view the sprawling, hilly, burned-out crater. Random areas boiled, spewed, and steamed.

“Wow.” He’d imagined the surface of the moon looking like that. “Pretty cool, in a disturbing kind of way.”

“We’re standing over a magma chamber,” she said.

“Thanks for the warning,” he teased.

“Seriously. The magma heats the rocks above it, then they heat the rain and seawater that seeps up into the substratum. That’s what makes everything bubble and hiss—” She raised her eyebrows and gazed at him pointedly. “And threaten to blow.”

His pulse picked up its pace. “I totally get that,” he said. “But it’s been a while, I’d say.”

“Hasn’t erupted since 1766, but this place is still the hottest, most active geothermal field around.”

How the hell had she made that sound sexy? “Were you a geology major?”

“Nope. Culinary arts. But I
am
smarter than a box of rocks.” She grinned, and slipped the brochure out of her purse. “I did my homework.”

“Evidently.” He pulled his iPhone from his pocket and stepped back from the railing. “Let me get your picture.”

“Sure,” she said, surprising him. She was totally different from Stephanie, who’d always shied away from a camera, only letting him snap a picture after the moment was lost. Paige cocked her head and flashed a dazzling smile right before he clicked the camera. Lane checked out the photo of her looking amazing against the steamy, barren backdrop. He’d definitely captured more than the moment with that shot. Pleased with what he saw, since it was perfect for what he had in mind, he loaded it into a text message, brazenly typed “Smokin’ Hot,” and handed her the phone. “Wanna send it to yourself as a souvenir?”

A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as she looked at the picture and read what he’d typed. She keyed in her number, hit send, and gave the phone back to him with a knowing look. “Slick move, Doc.”

He shrugged. “It was less awkward than asking for your number.”

She scrunched her nose as if she regretted giving it to him.

“What?” he asked.

“It’s the sulfur. I could use a heavy dose of sensory adaptation right about now. Hopefully it’ll smell better when we get to the mineral baths.”

“Mineral baths?”

“Yep.” She nodded. “That’s the combo part of the ticket. Stinkin’ volcano and soothing mineral baths.”

“Soothing? Sounds kind of girly.”

She rolled her eyes. “I hated to say therapeutic because you might just freak out on me right here on top of the magma chamber. But I’ll risk it and tell you that the waters are world renowned for reducing stress and curing rheumatism. If you rub the mud from the pool on yourself, it’ll make skin problems disappear.”

“You really believe that?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she said. “I know better than to argue it with you.”

Lane cut her a look.

“Whatever!” she said with a laugh. “
This
is the part I’m banking on.” She skimmed her finger down a section of the glossy brochure, stopped at the end of a paragraph, and read, “Our guides confidently boast that a dip in our magical waters makes every visitor look ten years younger.”

There she went with that magic thing again. He rolled his eyes.

“You just wait.” She playfully flipped her ponytail. For a blissful second he smelled something other than sulfur when he caught the fresh vanilla scent of her hair. “One dip in that Black Water Pool and I won’t even be legal anymore.”

Lane shook his head. He didn’t have a lot of faith in the fountain of youth claims about the mineral baths, but he figured it wouldn’t hurt to take a dip with Paige—that’s what a laid-back guy would do. Besides, he’d get to see her in a bathing suit sooner than he’d thought, and he’d been thinking about it since she’d mouthed off at him in the barbershop. It also meant he’d be stripping down to his trunks, too. Despite the state of his career and personal life, he was buffer than he’d been in years, and the timing couldn’t be better. After everything had fallen apart in Austin, the only way he’d kept what little sanity he had was by going for long runs and then hitting the gym for grueling sessions of weight lifting.

She jutted out her chin and gave him a challenging look. “So are you in, or not?”

He nodded cockily. “I wouldn’t miss this transformation for anything.”