Page 2 of Finding Cory

"Oh." Olivia felt quite foolish. Lovely though the catamaran was, and obviously valuable, it looked minuscule compared to the magnificent motor-yacht at which Rosie had just pointed. "Wow."

"The resort has three of those; we use them for airport transfer, inter-island transfer, and our own dive-and-snorkeling tours," Rosie informed her. "They're brand-new. The new owners bought them after they finished the refurbishment last year."

"Impressive," Olivia said, taking in the boat as they walked closer. "Several million dollars, I'd say."

"No expense spared," Rosie agreed with a nod. "Everything on Sunfish Island is like that. You'll see. But the island was run-down for quite a few years before the new owners bought it and spent a fortune to do it up."

"Which is why you need me." Olivia nodded. She specialized in relaunching refurbished hotels. She'd originally applied for the job assuming she'd be based in New York, but the resort owners insisted she needed to be on-site. They'd hired her on a full-year contract and paid all travel expenses, and accommodation was included. It was the job of a lifetime.

"That's right." Rosie nodded. "Hey! Cory! Get down here and help carry Olivia's suitcase!"

"God, you're so bossy," a deep voice rumbled with a laugh, and Olivia looked up to see a tall figure silhouetted against the sun, standing on the boat's upper deck. She blinked, dazzled by the glare behind him.

"This is Cory Gillette, our activities manager," Rosie said as the man vaulted over the rail. He landed on the lower deck in front of them before walking down the short ramp separating the boat from the dock. "Cory, Olivia Stratten, our new marketing guru."

"Nice ta meetcha," he rumbled before bending and picking up her suitcase as though it weighed nothing.

Olivia could only stare speechlessly as Cory turned and walked back onto the boat. He looked as though he'd just stepped off an advertising billboard; tall, blond, and blue-eyed, he had a deep bronze tan and shoulders so broad they strained the seams of his polo shirt. Her gaze slid down his back involuntarily as he walked back up the ramp with her suitcase.

Cory's ass in tight khaki shorts was so spectacular she barely heard Rosie's "Come on, let's get aboard before the guests arrive."

"Ngh," Olivia said somewhat incoherently, still staring, but Rosie promptly cut off her view as she headed up the ramp in front of Olivia. Still thoroughly distracted and trying to peer around Rosie to get another look at that incredible back view, she followed Rosie up the ramp without watching her footing.

Which turned out to be an epically huge mistake.

The ramp was made of a pierced steel grating, and with Olivia's first full step onto it, her spiked high heel went straight through and jammed. Thrown completely off balance, she teetered, clutched for a nonexistent handrail, lost her balance completely, and toppled head-first into the murky waters of the harbor. The last thing she heard before the surprisingly warm waters of the harbor closed over her head was Rosie's shriek of horror.

She might never have learned to drive, but she had certainly learned to swim. After a brief panicky flail, she righted herself and kicked back up to the surface, clamping her lips tight and holding her breath. Her head broke the surface and she heard....

Not more shrieks of horror, but a deep guffaw of laughter.

Cory was leaning off the boat, extending a tanned hand in her direction, and absolutely laughing his ass off.

Cheeks flaming, utterly humiliated, Olivia accepted the offered hand. It wasn't as though she had much choice, after all. As far as she could see, she had no other way to get up to the boat.

Despite his chortles, Cory pulled her up as easily as he'd carried her suitcase, his other hand hooking around her waist when he’d raised her high enough to lift her aboard and set her on her feet. Her bare feet.

"I think this is yours," he said through his laughter, bending down to pull her shoe out of the ramp and offer it to her.

"Those were Jimmy Choos," Olivia said pathetically, accepting the shoe from his hand even as she mourned the loss of the other one, now no doubt sinking in the silt at the bottom of the harbor.

Cody laughed so hard he had to sit down on the deck.

"You're such an asshole," Rosie was at leasttryingto suppress her giggles, and making a fair job of it, as she dealt a slap to the back of Cody's head. "Are you alright, Olivia?"

She blew out her cheeks, looking down at her ruined five-hundred-dollar pantsuit, the single shoe nestled in her hand. And then she blinked. "Oh my God. My bag!"

"You had a bag... your laptop bag!" Rosie stared at her in horror.

They both peered down into the murky water.

"How deep is it?" Olivia asked.

"About eight feet." Cory finally managed to suppress his laughter. "And no, I am not diving down to look for it."

Olivia shot him a fulminating glare. "Don't put yourself out. I'll get it myself." Handing Rosie her shoe, stripping off her soaked suit jacket and tossing it aside, she dived neatly off the edge of the boat.

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