Every Breath You Take Read online



  A map of the island was attached to the back of the pamphlet, and Kate unfolded it, hoping to gauge where she was. They’d been traveling on a main highway, and according to the map, there was only one of those, and it made a full circle of the island. She remembered passing exit signs to Simpson Bay and Princess Juliana Airport soon after they left Philipsburg, which meant they’d been going east. Based on the landmarks she’d seen since then, they were now traveling north along the coastline of the French section, with the Caribbean Sea on the left and the foothills of the mountains on the right.

  Their destination was obviously in the French section, so Kate started reading about the French section’s exciting nightlife, fabulous shops, open-air markets, and glorious beaches, some of which were nude. Concentrating on all that was easier than wondering what was bothering the man beside her. It also prevented her from thinking about Evan’s phone messages.

  She was reading her third pamphlet when the taxi rounded a curve, slowed, and then turned right into a winding landscaped lane bordered by ornamental stone walls. For several minutes the lane wound upward around a hill covered in dense tropical foliage; then the cab rounded a sharp bend and stopped at a stone gatehouse, where a uniformed guard stood next to a pair of tall black iron gates with “The Enclave” in brass lettering across them.

  Mitchell leaned forward and gave the guard his name; the gates swung open, the cab drove inside and rounded another bend, and Kate gasped with pleasure at her first glimpse of their destination: An elaborate, four-story, Mediterranean-style hotel was snuggled back against a hillside overlooking the Caribbean Sea, with several sets of balconied stone steps leading down to a long, secluded crescent of pristine white sand. Waiters were trotting up and down the steps carrying trays of food and drinks to sunbathers on the beach, who were concealed from view by large aqua beach umbrellas attached to chaise longues. “What a beautiful setting!” Kate exclaimed.

  A doorman opened her door and Kate slid out of the cab, tipping her head back to look up at the hotel. The roof was made of aqua tiles, and the structure was of white stucco with gracefully rounded open balconies dotting its facade and much larger, enclosed balconies on each side.

  Inside, the lobby was cool and elegant, with polished stone floors and French doors opening out onto a hillside dining balcony. Kate walked with Mitchell past the concierge’s desk, where a couple was arranging for scuba gear and a sailboat, but when Mitchell continued past the elevators toward a desk with a sign on it that said Guest Registration, she glanced uncertainly at him.

  “I haven’t registered yet,” he explained.

  “Aren’t you staying here?”

  He shook his head. “I’m staying on a friend’s boat, but I thought this would be more comfortable for the two of us.”

  Rather than go with him to the registration desk, Kate gestured toward a group of chairs near the elevators with a table between them that held a stack of hotel brochures. “I’ll wait over there.”

  As Mitchell strode toward the registration desk, two very attractive women emerged from one of the shops in the lobby. Both women glanced at him, stopped laughing, and then turned partway around to stare after him. They held their comments until they neared the elevators, where Kate was seated.

  “Is he not the best-looking man you’ve ever seen in your life?” one of them said to the other.

  “He is what you call a god!” her friend agreed in an awed French-accented voice; then she turned clear around for another look at him.

  Kate automatically followed her gaze. Mitchell was standing at the registration desk signing the usual forms. From behind, his shoulders looked a yard wide, Kate realized—but then another realization hit her that banished all thoughts of his manly physique: The “god” hadn’t brought a suitcase with him!

  The only explanation she could think of for this was that Mitchell had decided to remain naked with her until they checked out tomorrow, and that conclusion made Kate’s stomach lurch. Last night he’d specifically told her to bring something nice to wear because he wanted to take her out gambling, but he hadn’t brought a single change of clothes, not even a bathing suit—

  Because the beach and swimming pool here were probably nude!

  According to the pamphlet she’d read in the taxi, some beaches in the French section were nude beaches, and this hotel was definitely in the French section. The prospect of being on a nude beach—let alone being nude herself on one—sent a shiver of horror dancing up and down Kate’s spine, and she sank back in her chair. She couldn’t possibly walk around naked or even topless in front of strangers. She just could not.

  The hotel manager waylaid Mitchell when he finished registering and was on his way toward her. “I’m so glad I was able to accommodate you with the suite of your choice, Mr. Wyatt,” the manager said, reaching out to shake Mitchell’s hand. “It required some delicacy, but the other party was very satisfied with your offer. Actually, they were greatly relieved.”

  Kate watched Mitchell casually reach into his pocket before he shook the manager’s hand, and she wondered idly how much money changed hands during that handshake. Then she wondered what “offer” had been extended and who the “other party” was.

  “Diederik is upstairs, waiting for you,” the manager continued. “He’s already taken care of all your needs.”

  Kate hoped those needs included some clothing and a bathing suit for Mitchell. That notion was so unlikely it was absurd, and she looked down to hide her nervous urge to giggle. Mitchell’s shoes appeared directly in front of her a moment later.

  “Ready?” he said.

  Kate’s gaze slid upward along his legs, past his narrow waist, over the black shirt covering his muscular chest and broad shoulders, and finally encountered his tanned face and piercing blue eyes. “What needs of yours has Diederik taken care of?” Kate asked as she rose, a laugh in her voice.

  His expression softened at the sight of her smile. “I hope it’s lunch.”

  Chapter Eighteen

  THE SUITE OF MITCHELL’S “CHOICE” TURNED OUT TO BE on the top floor of the hotel at the end of a hall. One of its double doors was slightly ajar, and a discreet plaque on the wall beside it proclaimed it to be the Presidential Suite.

  Mitchell opened the door all the way for her, and Kate walked past him, stepping into a spacious foyer, then turned left and caught her breath. The exterior walls of the palatial suite were made entirely of glass, providing an uninterrupted, panoramic view of the Caribbean, both to the west and to the north. The carpeting was the same shade of aqua as the sea, the furnishings predominantly white, with huge vases of lush tropical flowers providing splashes of color.

  Near the foyer was a formal dining table with six chairs. Directly in the center of the suite, facing the windows, was an enormous bed covered in a fluffy white duvet and a mountain of pillows. It was situated so that the occupants could lie in bed and view the Caribbean. In the ceiling, muted cove lighting mirrored the outline of the bed, bathing it in a pale glow. The lighting was positioned so that the occupants of the bed could see what they were doing to each other … Kate yanked her gaze from the bed and moved a few steps forward.

  Beyond the bed, on the other side of the room in front of the windows, was a grouping of white sofas and chairs covered with plump pillows and arranged in a U so that they all looked out across the Caribbean.

  “This is absolutely breathtaking,” Kate said.

  “I’m glad you’re pleased,” Mitchell replied, starting toward the large, enclosed balcony that opened off the western side of the suite. A man who Kate assumed was Diederik was standing out there at a table beneath an aqua umbrella, pouring wine into glasses. “Take a few minutes to look around while I see if Diederik has done anything about food out there.”

  “You sound like you’re starving,” Kate teased.

  He turned and Kate felt the full seductive force of his slow white smile and direct gaze. “I have a very hearty appetite, Kate.”

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