Page 43 of Last Ticket to Paradise

Chapter Nine

The door of the office burst open.

Georgette could hear Nigel stammering, but didn’t dare turn around as the moist air from the outside caressed her bare bottom.

“I-I’m sorry, boss. We already called emergency services.”

“I’ll be right there, Nigel.”

The door closed, and Georgette’s head popped up from the desk. “Jean-Claude? Jean-Claude is dead?”

“We don’t know that.” Jake grabbed a handful of tissues from the box that had fallen on the floor and dragged them over his glistening body. He pulled on his shorts over his erection, still in full force.

As Georgette scrambled for her bikini, Jake held up his hand. “You can stay here. There’s going to be enough gossip.”

“That’s what I’m looking for.” She stepped into her bikini bottoms, her skin still on fire, the flesh between her legs still pulsating with unspent need.

She eyed Jake’s cock, its outline visible through his shorts. Ifshehad unspent needs, she couldn’t imagine Jake’s discomfort right now.

He threw open the door, and they both ran out to the pool, Georgette still adjusting the straps of her bikini.

Jean-Claude lay poolside, another man ineffectually pressing on his chest.

Jake crouched beside him. “Are you a doctor?”

The man stopped his compressions. “No, I’ve just had a little training.”

“Good job. Thank you. I’ll take over.” Jake took the man’s place and began alternating between chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth.

Jake worked on Jean-Claude for a few more minutes, and then the wail of a siren sliced through the hushed air. As the Palumba EMTs rushed onto the pool deck, Jake gave way to their expertise.

Georgette grabbed Jake’s arm as he stood beside her. “What do you think? Is he going to die?”

Taking her hand, Jake turned from the scene on the patio and dipped his head toward hers. “He still has a pulse, but it’s weak. Did you hear anything from the other guests?”

“Not much.” Georgette pressed a hand against her belly. “Nobody seemed to see him enter the pool. Of course, this late in the day, there are more people in the hot tub than the pool. A couple went in to paddle around, and Jean-Claude’s body came floating out from the direction of the pool’s waterfall.”

Jake scratched his chin. “I didn’t see any wounds on his body.”

“Wounds?” Georgette’s hand turned into a fist as her belly fluttered. “Why would he have wounds?”

“If someone injured him before pushing him into the pool, or if someone held him under and he tried to fight back, there would be some signs of that.” Jake pointed over her shoulder. “I’m sure our crack constable will get right on it.”

Still in her skimpy bikini, Georgette wrapped her arms around her body as a sudden chill flashed across her skin. “You’ve implied before that Clive is worthless.”

“Two women have disappeared, a local and a tourist.” Jake held up two fingers. “The local woman’s husband is now dead, and the tourist’s boyfriend is clinging to life. It would appear that Palumba has a crime wave, but I’m not sure Clive or his department is equipped to handle it.”

“Because he doesn’t believe the disappearances and the death are crimes. Has anyone heard anything about Fiso LaCroix’s autopsy results?”

“This is Palumba. Law enforcement won’t have that report for weeks, maybe months.” Jake touched her shoulder and nudged her to the side so he could talk to the approaching constable. “Clive, was anyone able to tell you anything about what happened to Jean-Claude?”

“Not much, but since you were the one performing CPR on him, you must’ve smelled the alcohol on him. The EMTs commented to me that he reeks of it.” Clive spread his hands. “He could’ve stumbled into the pool while intoxicated and drowned.”

“Is he dead?” Georgette crossed her hands over her chest.

Clive’s gaze dropped to her breasts...and lower, where she still felt the stickiness between her thighs of her torrid coupling with Jake in his office.

She pressed her legs together, and Clive dragged his attention back to her face. “Almost drowned. He still had a pulse when the EMTs loaded him into the ambulance.”

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