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Tommy grinned, thanked him, and darted away to go see if he could grab a second guest’s luggage and possibly score more tips.
Ah, the busy life of a porter. I was so glad I’d graduated up to relaxation consultant.
“What do you think?” I asked, turning my attention back to Deacon. He was looking around the villa with a spark of interest. “Is the temperature okay for you? How is the air conditioning?”
“It’s fine. The website said there was a pool?”
I nodded and crossed the room to open the blinds, letting in rays of sunshine and exposing the beautiful vista of the lap pool. Further down the beach, the wide ocean sparkled in invitation. “The pool is saltwater, and we have towels waiting for you outside.”
It was too easy to imagine a guy like this cutting through the water, droplets sluicing down his wide back…
“That would be nice,” Deacon said, and I did a quick double take before I got my head back in the game.
I smiled. “How about I give you a few minutes to let you settle in, and I’ll be back later with a drink?”
He exhaled a long breath and ran a hand back through his hair, making it stick up in places. It was pretty cute. “Yeah,” he said again, “that would be great. No beer. I’m in the mood for something harder.”
I bet you are, I thought.
I turned back just before I reached the front door. “Remember, I’m here for anything you need.”
His eyes flicked to mine, and I felt my lips curl into a not-so-customer-friendly smile.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said.
2
DEACON
The villa was everything the brochure promised and more. Clean, and impersonal, but decorated tastefully in soothing light tones that spoke of the ocean setting.
This was supposed to be the start of my vacation, so why did it feel like there was a sword over my head waiting to fall?
My butler, Kendall—no, he’d called himself my relaxation consultant—kept talking, showing me around the small space that was my home for the next seven days, in a professional and courteous manner.
I wasn’t sure if he was insinuating how ‘helpful’ he could be or if it was just my imagination gone wild. Maybe it was the jet lag speaking. He seemed sincerely friendly.
He let himself out and my eyes drifted to those khaki shorts of his as he did so. Perky little ass, I thought distantly. Makes those khaki shorts look good.
But before I could chase down that thought, my phone rang.
Immediately, my stomach sank and that imaginary sword over my head seemed to sink a little lower. I had been quite clear that I was on vacation and was only to be called in case of an emergency.
I looked at the screen and sighed, swiping to answer. “Hi, Bob.”
“Deacon,” Bob, my divorce attorney, replied in a low rumble. “I’m sorry to bother you this late at night.”
I glanced out the floor-to-ceiling windows at the bright, bright midday sun shining in. I had reminded him that I was away, but I was sure he had other things on his mind. “Not in this time zone, Bob. What is it?”
Because Bob was the best divorce attorney money could buy, he didn’t call up for kicks and giggles.
“I wanted to give you the heads up: Lauren is unhappy with the latest settlement offer.”
“Well, I guess that makes two of us.” Though to be fair I was unhappy I had to pay her at all. The only way I could stomach the settlement to buy her off was to think of it as my stupid tax. I had known better before I’d married her, and I’d still gone through with it. Now I was going to have to pay my way out of the fallout.
“True,” Bob replied, “but I am certain the judge will consider your offer to be fair…”
“Why do I get the feeling there’s a ‘but’ in there?”
