Free Club Cupid by Stephanie Bond Page A

He pursed his mouth, then reached forward and blanketed her fingers with his in a comforting grip. “I’m nothing if not hospitable, Ms. Jensen ,” he said, mocking her formality. “But you’ll still be needing a place to stay tonight, and I’d feel better if you’d let me arrange it.”
    She carefully extracted her hand from his and nodded curtly. “I would appreciate it. Perhaps you could make a call on my behalf?”
    “The fellow who owns the place I have in mind will probably be at the bar,” Randy said. “After we pick up your money, we’ll swing by there.” He glanced at his watch. “It’s nearly six—I’m expected back soon anyway, and you can talk to Parker about a room. Then,” he added lightly, “we can part company.”
    For the time being, she ignored his comment about parting company because she found the ideaso startlingly disappointing. “Parker? You mean the older gentleman I spoke to?”
    Randy nodded. “His house is a bed-and-breakfast. I’m sure he can find a place for you to rest your pretty head for a couple of nights.”
    She tried to ignore his compliment, but failed miserably. “Hopefully just one night,” she amended. “If my briefcase turns up by tomorrow, I’ll try to get a flight out of here instead of waiting for the ship on Sunday.”
    He smiled slightly. “Good idea. After all, you wouldn’t want to delay your return to the daily grind, and—” his eyes twinkled “—Oscar.”
    Her face burned. “No, I wouldn’t,” she said tightly.
    “Well, then it’s settled,” he said matter-of-factly, casually walking backward toward the shore. “Give me a few minutes, and we’ll pack up and head back.”
    Frankie frowned as he increased the distance between them. “A few minutes?”
    He squinted into the sun and flashed a sheepish smile as he walked into the shallows. “Excuse me, but I find myself in need of a cold swim.” After a quick pivot, he dived into the water with athletic ease.
    When she realized he needed to quench his libido, Frankie allowed herself several seconds of smug satisfaction before shaking herself and bending to tidy up the remnants of their picnic. She murmured a word of thanks to the heavens for intervening on her behalf. If that pager hadn’t sounded, right now they might be writhing on the towel, their bodies fused in unleashed passion.Frankie swallowed hard, squashing the provocative image. With a frown, she wondered how many conquests the virile Mr. Tate had made beneath this palm tree alone.
    Unable to resist a peek in his direction, she scanned the glistening, bobbing waves and watched the perplexing man swim away with powerful strokes. She sighed. He had certainly gone above and beyond the call of duty by stepping in to help her. Granted, he might have harbored ulterior motives—like the private picnic—but she had to admit she’d welcomed his attention.
    His dark head disappeared beneath the water, evoking a flutter of apprehension in her chest. The wind had kicked up considerably, cultivating the waves until they crashed more forcefully onto the beach. Straightening from her task, Frankie bit her bottom lip and counted the seconds he remained submerged. After ten seconds, she dropped the bag of uneaten crab legs and cupped her hands as she jogged to the water’s edge. “Randy!” When he hadn’t surfaced in another five seconds, she stepped free of the cumbersome towel and ripped open her shirt, sending buttons flying. “Randy!”
    In her haste, Frankie broke the surface of the water with a loud splash, concentrating on the spot she’d last seen him. Out of habit, she opened her eyes under water, only to be reminded instantly that she was swimming in the ocean. Withstanding the stinging saltwater, Frankie swam with strong kicks as long as her lungs would allow, frantically searching the clear depths for her Good Samaritan.
    Spotting a dark object several yards in front of her, Frankie surfaced for air, coughed, then propelled