and the whiskey that was obviously beginning to take effect. Sydney had purposefully sipped slowly and made sure to water down what booze she was drinking.
And a good thing, too, since Jess turned to her and said, “Sydney?”
She looked up, feeling a rush of nervous trepidation. “Yes?”
“Truth or dare. Since you have had a bit of an icy reputation in the past—” Jess paused, letting the implication sink in “—I’m curious to know if you had an orgasm the first time you had sex.”
Sydney didn’t even blink. Could Jess have possibly asked anything she would’ve wanted to answer less, considering the present company, who could call her on any lie she might try to get away with? The present company who had brought her off repeatedly through the hours of that long, hot, summer night all those years ago?
And so she sat back, crossed her arms, looked Jess straight in the eye and told him and the rest of the room the truth. “Actually, Jess, yes. I did.”
Anton snorted, obviously in disbelief. Doug sat slack-jawed. Jess stared from beneath two raised brows. The women were more vocal. Their responses ranged from “No way!” to “Go Sydney!” to “You lucky dog!”
And then the circle of reactions came back around to Anton and his skeptical suspicion. “Give her a dare, Jess. She’s lying through her teeth.”
Sydney turned a steely gaze on Anton. “What makes you think I’m lying?”
“It’s hard to believe any woman would come her first time. Half the time even women who know what they’re doing fake their orgasms.” Anton flinched as a half-melted ice cube pelted him in the center of his chest. He glared across the length of the table just as Lauren threw another.
“If she’s with the right man, a woman can have an orgasm every time. But since it’s hard to find a man willing to take the time to learn what a woman needs, it’s no wonder women end up faking.” Lauren popped a third ice cube into her mouth, sucked it free of whiskey.
Anton upended his glass and drained the remainder of his drink. “Let’s not forget that some women seem to be able to come at the drop of a hat. Sorta makes a man wonder why she keeps him around when she can obviously do her own thing as long as she’s got the batteries.”
“Hey, dude. I don’t know what you’re complaining about.” Jess glanced from one-half of the quarreling couple to the other and back. “Finding a woman uninhibited enough to come sure takes the pressure off.”
“Exactly!” Lauren exclaimed, then turned to Jess. “Thank you, Jess. It’s nice to know that a man can appreciate a woman’s sexuality without feeling threatened by it.”
Anton got to his feet and Sydney held her breath, waiting for what she knew would be an explosion. But Anton surprised her by calmly grabbing the decanter of bourbon from the center of the table and not saying another word. And then he left the room.
For several moments no one made a comment, as if talking behind Anton’s back was as bad as talking in front of Lauren. Finally Poe split the difference with a mumbled, “Well, since I managed to so beautifully blow that, I think I’ll console myself with a quick and painless death by drowning. Or at least a long walk along the beach.”
“Oh, Poe. You didn’t blow anything.” Kinsey reached across the table and took hold of the other woman’s hands. “If you’re in the mood for company, I’d love to come along. My head could use the fresh air.”
Poe got to her feet, her gaze lingering on Jess as she asked, “Anyone else care to join us in walking off dinner and drinks and the rest of the evening’s disaster?”
“I’m going to take a shower.” Lauren stood, stared at the table’s surface as if getting her balance or her bearings, then headed for the circular staircase separating the dining area from the villa’s main room.
Once Lauren was gone, Doug slapped his hands on the table, jarring the room from its pensive mood. “I’m all for a walk.”
“Me, too,” Jess said, taking Kinsey by the hand and dragging her off toward the villa’s front entrance. He stopped halfway there, looked back and held out his other hand for Poe. “Doug, Ray? Sydney? Let’s go.”
Doug rose and headed for the group.
Sydney stayed seated and shook her head, running a finger around the rim of her near-empty glass. “You all go on. I’m going to finish cleaning the kitchen, then head for the shower once Lauren is through.”
“Ray? You coming?” Kinsey asked as she followed the others across the room and out the front door.
Ray glanced from Sydney to the departing group and back again. His brows drew down over clearly indecisive eyes. His lips pressed together uncertainly. He stepped closer to Sydney’s chair and stared down, reaching out to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “You want some help?”
Sydney rubbed her cheek against his lingering hand, then looked from her glass up to Ray and, smiling, said, “Help with the kitchen or with the shower?”
Ray’s breath hitched and he stared down at her, his expression having darkened, the tic in his jaw a hard echo of the pulse throbbing in the hollow of his throat. “Don’t give me a choice you don’t want me to make.”
For a moment, just for a moment, Sydney closed her eyes. It would be so easy to say yes, to drag him into the shower off the first-floor bedroom suite that no one but her father ever used. But as much as she wanted him, she wanted to wait, to let the tension build, to keep their liaison a private affair.
And right now there were too many people waiting for him to join them on the beach. So what she did was get to her feet, reach across the table and gather up as many of the highball glasses as she could manage with two hands. Then she turned to face him.
“Truth or dare?” she asked, and as she did, Ray’s mouth quirked upward. “Would you rather I accept your help when we’re liable to be interrupted any minute, or would you rather wait until we have time alone?”
“The truth? I’d rather wait.” He looked off toward the door as if even now he expected to be interrupted. Then he looked back at Sydney, his eyes flashing, his smile a silent promise of seduction he intended to keep. “The dare? You find us the time.”
“I DON’T KNOW why I ever agreed to this trip.” Lauren pummeled the pink, satin-cased pillow, then crossed her arms and hugged it close. “I knew this was a mistake the minute I found out Anton was going to be here.”
“So why’d you come?” Sitting on the corner of Lauren’s bed and wearing nothing but a lemon-yellow silk chemise, Sydney rubbed lotion into her freshly shaved legs, intending to ferret out Lauren’s feelings for Anton in a private one-on-one, since Poe’s more dramatic efforts had sent the two lovers off in opposite directions.
Kinsey was actually the one bunking with Lauren, as Sydney had chosen to share a double room with Poe down the hall. The other two women hadn’t yet returned from the moonlit stroll they’d taken along the beach with three of the four men.
Anton hadn’t left the room he was sharing with Doug since taking the decanter of bourbon and calling it a night. Sydney doubted he was in any condition to put one foot in front of the other, moonlight or not.
Lauren’s condition wasn’t much better. Unable to sit still, she bounced this way and that, crossed her legs, then stretched them out and flexed her toes. Finally she tucked two pillows behind her, kept the one in front, leaned back against the headboard and collapsed.
Unfazed and possessing the patience of a saint, Sydney snapped the squirt cap of the lotion bottle and repeated her question. “Why did you come if you thought it was a mistake?”
Lauren finally accepted that Sydney wasn’t going away and heaved a huge sigh. “I know he’s been seeing Poe. And I knew she’d be here.”
“And you couldn’t