Page 3 of Last Ticket to Paradise

“I-I...it is sort of heavy.” She bent over to retrieve her purse and to hide her flaming face. So much for urbane flirting.

When she popped back up, she saw his broad back following the line of passengers down the aisle to exit the little death trap. Okay, Linda was right. Men took notice when you bared a little skin. Of course, you had to have a better follow-up than a stammer and a blush.

Georgette slung her bag over her shoulder and, smiling, thanked the flight attendant for one of the most terrifying experiences of her life. Of course, her life hadn’t been very terrifying, unless she counted the timeBilly Russelldared her to ride her bike off the diving board at the local pool.

After snatching her suitcase from the baggage carousel and breezing through Customs, Georgette snagged a taxi to thePalumba Falls Resort. It was the most expensive, most luxurious hotel on the island. Only the best for JamieLawson.

Thick foliage crowded the edge of the road, and the cartoonlike colorful blooms emitted a heavy perfume. Georgette trailed her fingers out the open window, caressing the moist air. She could already feel her hair spiraling in the humidity.

The taxi pulled in front of a sprawling hotel that rose from the steamy landscape. Breezy causeways linked the public areas of the resort. Suites with thatched roofs stood on stilts in the water.

Georgette inhaled the salty breeze. She was going to have fun if it killed her.

She strode up to the front desk. She didn’t even need to use her flawless French, as she would on the neighboring islands. Palumba had been a French colony, but then the Spanish moved in and later the British, and everyone spoke English as well as a mixture of local dialects. “Hello, I’m checking in. My name is Lawson. Georgette Lawson.”

“Welcome to Palumba.” The clerk touched the flower behind her ear and smiled. Taking Georgette’s credit card, she turned to the computer.

Georgette’s gaze swept the expansive open lobby. A sparkling pool beckoned at the edge of the white sand, the blue ocean tumbling beyond. Guests strolled in from the beach to the pool, and Georgette sucked in her breath and gripped the edge of the counter. Several of the women were topless.

She’d known going in that this was an adults-only resort, but she’d thought that had meant no screaming kids at the pool.

The clerk glanced up from the computer monitor. “You do know that this is a clothing-optional resort? If that doesn’t meet your expectations, there are several other nice hotels on the island. The boss doesn’t want anyone to leave unhappy.”

Georgette gulped. She’d hang on to that optional part. She had to stay here. “Th-that’s no problem. My sister, Jamie Lawson, is staying here, also. Could you please give me her room number?”

The hotel clerk’s eyes widened, and she dropped her pen. “Jamie Lawson?”

Even though she and Jamie were as different as two sisters could be, especially twin sisters, she’d never gotten quite this response before. She nodded. “Do you know her?”

The clerk bent her head over her computer keyboard. “We haven’t seen Jamie here for a few weeks.”

Georgette swallowed the bubble of fear that rose up her throat. Jamie had probably taken a side trip, or more likely, she’d met a man who whisked her off somewhere. She cleared her throat. “When did she check out?”

“Jamie didn’t check out.” The woman lifted her shoulders. “She paid up through the end of this month and took off.”

Georgette sucked in her lower lip. Definitely a man. She’d wait here until Jamie returned, and then she could report back to Mom. “Do you think you could let me into her room?”

The clerk slid Georgette’s credit card back across the smooth wood counter and shook her head. “I’m sorry, Ms. Lawson. We can’t allow guests access to other guest’s rooms. I probably blabbed too much as it is.” She looked both ways and then scribbled on a piece of paper and shoved it toward her. “Here’s her room number, though.”

Georgette smiled. “Thanks. I understand. I guess I’ll just stay here until she returns.”

Aunt Henriettawould do a good job of looking after the bookshop and Mom, even though the two of them hadn’t spoken for years. Just showed how worried Mom was to not only release some of Georgette’s money to her for this jaunt down to Palumba, but also welcome Aunt Henrietta back into her home.

Georgette knew Jamie better than Mom did. Mom believed Jamie was some helpless feminine flower, used and discarded by others, especially men. The truth was just the opposite. Jamie took what she wanted from men and cast them aside when she’d had her fill...or met her goal. Probably fleecing some poor guy right now.

Georgette followed the bellhop to her room on an open corridor that faced the beach. The beach mirrored Jamie’s postcard with its crystal-clear water and powdery white sand.

She unpacked her skimpy resort wear, filling the drawers and the closet with their bright colors. She showered, using the tropical shampoo and soap stocked by the hotel, the fruity smell rising on the steam.

Georgette bent over at the waist and towel-dried her hair. To fight her curls in this climate was useless. She plaited her unruly tresses into a thick braid.

She pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top, again feeling underdressed. She rarely wore shorts, even when the summer sun warmed the flat landscape ofNorth Dakota. Her legs were too long, making her feel gawky. At least they weren’t blindingly white, since Linda had dragged her to a tanning salon a few days before her trip.

She slipped her feet into a pair of glittering flip-flops and shuffled to the poolside bar fronting the ocean. Might as well get to work.

She parked on a barstool and ordered a glass of lemonade. Half-naked hotel guests lounged around the pool, sipping tropical drinks. At least her new bikini wouldn’t shock anyone in this group. The men—had to be Europeans—sported tiny swim trunks, while the women adjusted the thin strings of their bikinis as they rose, dripping wet, from the pool. Or they had discarded their tops altogether.

Georgette turned back to the bar and waited until the bartender filled another tray of drinks for the waitress. She cleared her throat. “Hello. Have you worked here long?”

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