the
shallow, vapid women who clung to him? Did he truly want . . .
her?
“Hero,” he said with a sigh of relief. Her
heart did a few jumping jacks. “Do you mind?”
She scooted her purse out of the way and
tried to look cool and unconcerned. “Not in the least.”
“Thank you.” He plopped the cat down on the
seat next to her, and leaned forward over her. “He likes you; and
he won’t be any trouble. Just don’t let him try to kill
himself.”
She looked down at her hand
in complete and utter surprise. There was a leash in it. She looked
at the seat next to her. Jesus was considering her with his one
good eye. She looked up. Adam had claimed the empty seat next to
Sally, and was leaning close to her, arguing vehemently, if
quietly. Bloody hell!
Pressure on her leg had her looking back at
the cat. He curled up next to her, his huge head resting on her
thigh. One side of his lip was curled under itself, exposing a
fang.
He was drooling on her dress.
Chapter Three
“Orientation in the ballroom, ladies and gentlemen,”
the TV show producer was saying, waving his clipboard at everyone
as they emerged from the shuttles. “Your bags will be taken to your
rooms. Ballroom inside and to the left. Move along, please. We have
a schedule to keep.”
Adam retrieved Jesus from the Englishwoman, thanking
her politely for watching the cat while he tried to plead his case
with Sally. Hero seemed to be a bit peeved with him, although he
couldn't understand why. She'd said she liked cats, and Jesus had
obviously taken to her, something he didn't do with many women. He
was about to ask Hero if it was her first time in the Caribbean
when the women he'd tried so hard to escape earlier pounced on him,
driveling on about his cat, and how thrilled they were to meet him
in person. He shot Hero a look begging for her help, or at the very
least sympathy, but she didn't take pity on him, strolling on ahead
without so much as a glance back at him.
She really was something, he thought to himself as
he followed the crowd into a brightly lit ballroom. Tall and
statuesque with short, curly auburn hair, not to mention curves in
places that would drive a monk mad, topped off with a charming
English accent—why couldn't he have met her elsewhere? Why did it
have to be here, where she would be sure to be swarmed with men
wanting to get closer to all those delicious curves? His eyes
followed her as she took a seat at one of the tables near the back
of the ballroom.
“Excuse me, will you, ladies? I see
someone I know. Yes, yes, later, I promise we'll talk. Thank you
all for the kind words.” He made his escape, hurrying toward the
rear of the ballroom, his eyes on the tall Englishwoman. She was
chatting happily with the woman next to her, a small woman with
long blonde… damn !
“Ladies,” he nodded as he pulled out the chair next
to Hero. Both she and Sally turned gimlet eyes on him. He ignored
the chilly reception and placed Jesus on the chair, taking the seat
on the cat's far side. “I see we're just in time. Looks like
they're about to start.”
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Crescent Moon
Resort! Welcome to Eden!” A woman’s voice blared out from speakers
in the ceiling, and the words, the ballroom suddenly burst to life.
Huge arc lights lining the walls flashed on, making Adam and
everyone at his table blink in response. Cameramen poured out of
the doorways, spacing themselves around the room, their heavy
shoulder-mounted cameras pointing at the people seated at the
tables, shadowed by men and women with sound equipment, microphones
that followed the sweep of cameras. A number of other people
emerged as well, each clutching a clipboard with the Eden TV show
emblem blazoned on the front. On a small raised dais at the front
of the room, several men in suits joined a couple of women standing
around a computer setup.
“Is everyone seated?” One of the women, a black
woman with spiky hair and blood-red framed glasses