Volcano by Patricia Rice Read Free Book Online

find it?”
    Getting directions he didn’t need, Charlie took the steps back to the cottage. He didn’t know why Henwood was hovering around him. He didn’t know the man. Unless he’d somehow overheard the phone conversation, Henwood shouldn’t know his real identity. The resort manager was just going out of his way for Penelope’s benefit. Circumstances had made him suspicious of everyone.
    Charlie created a racket as he entered the cottage so he wouldn’t catch his reluctant hostess in another precarious state of undress. He needed her cooperation. He had a rat’s chance in hell of gaining it without blackmail, but he would do what he had to do.
    He groaned inwardly as he caught Penelope brushing out her long black hair. He couldn’t believe this woman allowed her hair to grow out like that. She struck him as one of those efficient businesswomen who had her hair clipped and styled at some fancy salon every week until she looked more like a man than a woman. But right now, she looked like some exotic tropical fantasy his sick mind had dreamed up to nail him to the floor.
    She looked up, startled at his appearance but apparently unembarrassed by the spill of silken tresses over her blazer. Idly gathering her hair in her hand, she pinned it to the back of her head with a silver clip. The severe hairstyle emphasized the dramatic jut of her elegant cheekbones and nose. “I didn’t expect you back. Don’t you have business to tend to?”
    â€œI do, but I need you for cover. I want to look like a typical bored tourist roaming the streets of Soufriere. Come with me and I’ll feed you.” Trying to ignore her, Charlie walked past her heavenly scents and into the bathroom to wash.
    â€œI’m not about to make that trip into town again anytime soon,” Penelope informed him coldly, over the sound of rushing water. If Mr. Charlie Smith thought she was the kind of tractable female who bent to every man’s will, he might as well learn his lesson now. She’d seen what submissiveness had done to Beth and her mother.
    He emerged from the bathroom dripping water and rubbing his face with a towel. Obviously, some demented part of her mind still had a fascination with muscular football player types because her heart skipped a beat at just the sight of that broad chest beneath the skimpy tank top. A dark curl of hair at the shirt’s neckline stirred a kind of lust she hadn’t known in years. How the hell did he think he could disguise himself as a typical tourist? He’d be lucky if people didn’t ask for his autograph.
    â€œWe’ll take a water taxi. It’ll be fun. And you’ll get fed a lot sooner. You can poke around in the craft shops while I talk to a few people.”
    Penelope gifted him with her best scornful look. “If you think anyone will believe you’re a typical tourist, you have beans for brains. You look like the Caribbean equivalent of Mafia. If I judged by appearances alone, I’d say you planted that white stuff in my bags. Although I suppose any self-respecting drug dealer would wear something a little more decent than what you have on.”
    She would have bitten her tongue in dismay at her temerity, but his surprised glance at his clothes was too typically male and not the least like a dangerous drug dealer.
    â€œWhat’s wrong with what I’m wearing? It’s cool and comfortable. Jeans go anywhere.”
    With just a tiny bit of delight in her sarcasm, Penelope pointed out the obvious. “You’re staying at an expensive resort. Didn’t you look around you at all? The men wear khakis or long shorts with Tommy Hilfigers or oxford shirts. They don’t wear cowboy mustaches and mirrored glasses and look like football players.”
    She’d hoped a good shot at his ego would drive him off, but the damned man looked up with a grin and a bold gaze that swept over her own rather