Page 5 of Last Ticket to Paradise

She dropped the next projectile and brushed her hands together. “Are you staying at the Palumba Falls, too?”

He dug his toes into the sand next to hers. “Yeah. How do you like it?”

“It’s beautiful. The architecture blends right in with the landscape. It’s not intrusive at all.” Did that pass for witty flirtation?

He pointed to one of the hotel rooms on stilts. “Are you staying in one of thefares?”

She peered at the little thatch-roofed structures. “Is that what they’re called? No, I’m staying in a room across from the beach.”

“You’ll catch some beautiful sunsets.”

Georgette drew in a long breath and leaned away from the man’s overpowering presence. A man like this probably emitted some primeval masculine scent to lure the female species. It was working.

He tilted his head, his sun-streaked hair falling over one eye. “Are you traveling alone?”

She bit her lip. Was this some kind of scam? Knowing she was a single woman traveling by herself, would he try to take advantage of her? She should be so lucky. If he wasn’t her type, she was damn sure she wasn’t his. Once he got a load of those naked women by the pool, he’d forget all about her.

His blue eyes sparkled like the ocean in front of them. Oh God, he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Flashing his white teeth, he said, “If you are, be careful when you leave the resort.”

He was the second person to warn her since her arrival. Maybe the travel books were wrong and Palumba wasn’t so safe after all. “I thought Palumba was safe.”

He drilled the horizon with his gaze. “All the tourist areas are safe. Just don’t wander off the beaten path.”

“You’ve been here before?”

“Jake!”

They both swiveled around toward the resort. A young man waved his arms over his head. “Jake!”

He hoisted himself up from the sand. “Looks like I’m needed. By the way, I’m Jake.”

She took his outstretched hand, and he pulled her up. “Georgette.”

He squeezed her hand in a firm grip, sending spikes of pure lust into her belly. “Enjoy your stay, Georgette.”

He turned and jogged down the beach, kicking up sand in his wake before veering onto the hotel grounds. He worked here. That explained the suntan, the bleached hair, and the rough hands. She smoothed her palm across her cheek.

He had his pick of the women at the hotel. Probably had notches on his bedpost. Linda had instructed her to get drunk one night and have a fling...Jake was definitely flingable.

Georgette spun away from the resort and skipped through the bubbling waves, kicking up sprays of water that sparkled in the sun. People dotted the sand, and a few kids shrieked at the water’s edge.

She strolled past the other hotels on the beach until she came to an outcropping of rocks that rose to two points over the ocean. People clambered over the rocks to reach the point on the right, and a crowd stood on the edge facing the point on the left.

Shielding her eyes, Georgette peered up at the spot where young men executed high dives into the water below. The curve of rocks on the beach obscured their landings, so Georgette joined the stream of tourists ascending to the lookout point.

She jostled the edges of the crowd until she gained a clear view of the divers. Their slim bodies arched gracefully before slicing through the blue water. Each time one of the divers landed between two jagged rocks jutting out from the ocean, the tourists on the rock gasped and leaned forward in unison.

The water swirling below was different from the smooth, glassy water fronting the Palumba Falls Resort. This water churned and rolled, shooting up sprays that almost reached the gawking tourists.

Georgette hung over the railing, her heart jumping each time a diver hit the water. They had little room for error. The crowd pressed forward, squeezing her against the bars of the railing.

She shifted her gaze from the divers to the water below the lookout point. If the divers had little room for error, there was even less room for error for their audience. Cruel rocks zigzagged out of the water like teeth, ready to snag some unlucky tourist.

Georgette tried to turn, but was wedged against the railing, the bars pressing hard against her rib cage. One of the divers flipped forward before piercing the water, and the crowd cried out its approval.

A hand slapped against Georgette’s back, pushing her farther over the railing until she stared down at the wicked teeth below. The bar of the railing cut off her breath, and she felt her feet lift from the rock beneath her. Her toes scrambled to gain purchase on the gritty surface as she gripped the railing.

Then warm breath, smelling of garlic, hissed in her ear, “Go home.”

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