Sheri WhiteFeather

The Billion Dollar Pact


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knowing he was on the other end of those adjoining doors.

      She warned herself to stay away from her veranda in case he did go for a swim. Fantasizing about him was bad enough. She didn’t need to watch him and become a voyeur, too.

      * * *

      As the evening progressed, Jake was more than ready to blow off some steam. After his swim, he’d eaten dinner. Then he’d fallen asleep, rumpled and naked. From there, he’d dragged his ass out of bed and taken a long, hot shower.

      And now he was standing in front of the mirror in a designer suit, his hair styled in its usual way.

      If he knew Carol, she’d probably been ready for hours. His assistant was an early bird, whereas Jake waited right up to the end to dash off to wherever he was going.

      As if on cue, his phone beeped with a text. No doubt it was Carol, telling him it was time to leave. She always sent him reminders for everything.

      He checked. Sure enough it was her. They agreed to meet in the hallway, outside their rooms.

      She got there first, and as soon as Jake saw her, he marveled at her beauty. Her dress was wrapped in a stylish yet sultry way, complementing her voluptuous figure. It wouldn’t take much to untie the sarong, either. A pull here, a tug there. The body veil that went with it was incorporated into the design, flowing softly, making her ensemble even sexier.

      Her makeup was light and elegant, and her shoulder-length, blunt-cut hair was straight and shiny. The starfish earrings twinkled next to her face, and the bracelet shone at her wrist. Her skin had just the slightest hint of shimmer, too, especially around the swell of her cleavage. Or maybe that was where he noticed it most. He assumed it was from some sort of glittery lotion. Her strappy evening bag was small and delicate—the kind women carried when they danced.

      “You look hot,” he said. He stepped back to take another admiring glance. “Seriously, you could be a siren who roams the island, tempting guys like me to come out to play.”

      She flushed accordingly. “Thank you. But I’m not trying to tempt anyone, and you’re always ready to play with some pretty young thing.”

      Not the way he wanted to play with her. “Don’t worry. Tonight I’m going to be good.”

      Her gaze roamed over him. “Then I guess it’s all right to tell you that you look rather hot yourself?”

      Hell, yes, it was all right. He liked being in her sights, even if nothing was going to happen between them. “Millie brought a bunch of stuff to my house, too, and this is what I picked.” Suddenly he realized his shirt was the same minty green color as Carol’s eyes. He hadn’t chosen it for that reason, at least not deliberately. But who knew what tricks his attraction to her was playing on his subconscious?

      “Are you ready?” he asked.

      “As ready as I’m ever going to be.”

      Was she still worried about fitting in with his crowd?

      “Just hold on tight and have a good time.”

      “Hold on to what?”

      “Me.” He took her hand. “It’s a couples-only theme, remember?”

      She threaded her fingers through his. “I still can’t believe I agreed to come here with you.”

      “It’s too late to back out.” He squeezed her hand. For now she was his plus-one, and he wasn’t letting her go.

      They took the staircase to the main ballroom on the first floor. Already, they could hear the thumping base of music from a DJ’s turntable.

      The white-pillared ballroom exploded with color and flair. The couples-only theme was expressed in enormous paintings and life-size statues that had been commissioned specifically for the party, with depictions of legendary lovers, throughout the ages, entwined in a variety of emotional embraces.

      A huge flat-screen monitor projected images that complemented the music, and scattered throughout the marble dance floor were gilded cages big enough for two, where couples could go inside and dance with each other. Jake thought it was intriguing. He didn’t know if Carol would agree to do that with him, but it wouldn’t hurt to ask when the moment felt right. It was just a bit of fun, after all. They were supposed to enjoy the festivities, and those cages were part of it.

      The birthday girl wasn’t there yet. Clearly, Lena wasn’t quite ready to splash onto the scene and make her debut. Most of the guests had arrived and were partaking of food, drink and dance. A gourmet buffet offered lavish hors d’oeuvres and frothy desserts. Although Jake was still full from dinner, the pastries sure looked good.

      “Good grief,” Carol said. “This is something else.”

      Jake continued to hold her hand, giving her time to settle into the environment. A three-tiered fountain filled with ice was large enough to bathe in, with pink lemonade spilling from the spigots. Champagne was being served as well, delivered by waitstaff garbed in French Colonial attire to match the mansion. There was a huge aquarium bar, too, stocked with angelfish and tended by bikini-clad bartenders wearing blue wigs and fluffy white wings. Indoor and outdoor tables were available, with figurine candles shaped into historic couples as the centerpieces. The party was an eclectic mix of whatever appealed to Lena’s imagination.

      After Jake and Carol took the champagne that was offered to them, she said, “I don’t know where to begin.”

      “Anywhere you want.”

      She sipped her drink. “I think I’d like a pastry to go with this.”

      “That sounds good to me.” He escorted her to the buffet and grabbed a treat for himself, too.

      She wanted to eat outside, so they went onto the courtyard and sat with a few other couples who’d also decided to start their evening off outdoors. Jake introduced Carol to them. He knew most of the people in attendance.

      While Carol chatted with Lena’s songwriting partner and his wife, Jake studied the Napoleon and Josephine matchbooks that were on the table. The candle was a likeness of them, too, with their names scrolled across the bottom of the stand. He went ahead and struck a match and lit the wick. The wax emitted a rose scent.

      Carol turned toward him, and they watched it burn together. Then she said, “Did you know that Josephine’s birth name was Marie-Josèphe-Rose? And that she went by Rose until Napoleon started calling her Josephine?”

      “No, I wasn’t aware of that.” But the rose scent was making a bigger impact now, getting stronger as the candle burned.

      “She was born in the Caribbean on the island of Martinique. I came across references to that area when I was researching the islands around here, too.”

      He smiled. “And now we’re sitting at Napoleon and Josephine’s table, with you sharing your research with me.”

      She returned his smile. “Sometimes I overdo things like that.”

      “Yes, but what an interesting conversation it’s turning out to be.” He was fascinated by the details she’d provided. She looked beautiful in the candlelight, too, against the backdrop of sand and surf on the other side of the courtyard.

      The songwriter interrupted, announcing to the entire group, “We should all go inside now. Lena will be appearing shortly.”

      “Do you know how she’ll be making her entrance?” Jake asked.

      “Yes, but she’d kill me if I spilled the beans.” The other man took his wife’s arm. “We’ll see you in there.”

      “Sure.” Jake wished he could stay where he was. He was enjoying being out here with Carol.

      “I guess we better head in, too,” she said after everyone else was gone.

      “Yeah. I guess we better.” They’d lingered long enough.

      “Should we blow out Napoleon