Page 51 of Last Ticket to Paradise

Jake ducked down a walkway that led to a building housing a set of rooms that must have a spectacular view of the ocean. He glanced over his shoulder. “I’m taking you to my room. I can drop by yours later to get you some clothes to make you decent...although I kinda prefer you indecent.”

Georgette walked closely behind him, her nose almost poking him in the back, just in case they came across another guest.

“People actually stay in these rooms? They must be suites judging by how far apart the doors are.”

“They are suites, usually for our long-term guests and regulars.” He jogged up a few steps, and she followed. “Just around the corner.”

When they reached his door, Jake produced his card key and flashed it at the reader. The locks clicked inside, and Georgette let out a long breath.

Jake pushed open the door and held it for her. “After you.”

As she took a step into the room, a familiar voice cut through the night. “Jake! Jake!”

Gunther, huffing and puffing, raised his hand and scurried down the short hallway. He pulled up abruptly when he saw Georgette in the doorway, and his brows shot up to his bald pate as his gaze tracked down her body, from her bare breasts to her skimpy, lightweight underwear clinging to her in all the wrong places.

“So sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt...whatever this is.”

Jake stepped in front of the door, blocking Georgette from Gunther’s view. “Just a little fun in my private Jacuzzi, and Georgette decided to play a trick on me and lock me out. What are you doing here?”

“Oh my God. You haven’t heard?”

Jake’s back stiffened slightly, and Georgette placed her hand against his skin. “Heard what? Is it about Jean-Claude? I called the hospital earlier, and he was still alive.”

“It’s not about Jean-Claude. It’s about his bungalow. It caught fire. We watched the damned thing burn into the ocean.”

“What?” Jake cranked his head over his shoulder, and his eyes locked with hers for a second. “Did anyone call the constable?”

“No, I don’t think so. Not much could be done to save the structure, and it wasn’t a danger to anything...or anyone else.”

“That we know of. Nobody was on the water at the time?”

“We didn’t see anything or anybody. Just the fire.”

“I’m going to have to check it out in the morning. Won’t do much good to take a look at it now.” Jake shook his head. “First Jean-Claude in the pool, and now this.”

Georgette cleared her throat. “Maybe Jean-Claude left something burning in the bungalow, and it caught fire.”

“That could be. Thank God, nobody was hurt.” Jake ran a hand through his hair, the ends slightly singed. “I’ll call Clive tomorrow, first thing.”

“A lot of good he does.” Gunther sniffed. “I thought you should know. Nobody could locate you—now we know why. So sorry to intrude, children. Carry on.”

Jake herded her into the room and slammed the door behind them, locking the latch at the top.

“Do you think he believed us?”

“Why would he have any reason to doubt my story? It’s a good thing you did kiss and tell about our encounter this afternoon. Makes this,” he circled his finger in the air to indicate his rooms, “more convincing.”

“Except I would never lock you out of the room.”

“You must be chilled.” He wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug.

“Actually, ever since you mentioned the private Jacuzzi to Gunther, I haven’t been able to think about anything else.”

“Clothes?”

“Jacuzzi.”

He laced his fingers through hers and led her to a set of French doors across the room. He pulled them open, and a gentle breeze caressed her face. Jake’s balcony, which was more like a patio, faced the ocean. A table and chairs and a chaise lounge occupied one side, and a hot tub filled with sparkling water the other.

---