Free Bare In Bermuda by Livia Ellis Page A

back of the car along with the comfortable closeness of Henna wrapped in his arms during the final few minutes of the ride to the hotel. The familiar pink Hamilton Princess appeared. He double-checked his trousers were fastened and left his shirt untucked. He was on vacation. A beautiful woman had just sucked him off in the back of a limo.
    The call from his secretary might have annoyed Henna, but it confirmed he was a wealthy man who had just gotten a lot richer. Life was better than good. Life was great. Life hadn't been great for a long time. His day, which started badly, had turned around. Proof that excellent things had a way of happening when least expected sat next to him in the car with her head on his shoulder.
    Henna leaned toward the window. “It's pretty.”
    He looked out the window to see the hotel and grounds as she saw them. It was pretty. “Have you never been here before?”
    “No,” she said. “You?”
    “Many times.” Many, many, many times. Nearly every summer of his childhood. His honeymoon. His fifth, tenth, fifteenth, and twentieth anniversaries. His thirtieth and fortieth birthday parties. He hadn’t wanted to come back ever again. But here he was.
    That morning, as he had attempted to ruin any chance of getting to the airport and on the plane through multiple instances of self-sabotage, he would have done anything to get out of having to return to Bermuda. What he learned as the car moved closer to the hotel was that the reality of returning wasn't half as bad as what he had imagined it would be.
    “It's very nice,” she said. “I'm glad I'm here. This isn't usually my thing for a vacation, but I figured I'd give it a try since I had to come here anyway.”
    “Why are you here?” he asked.
    “I have a thing,” she said. “I told you I was meeting people. You and I are going to need to have a conversation about discretion.”
    “What kind of thing?” A suspicion no bigger than the heart of a fly began growing in the deepest corner of his thoughts. He had a thing, too. That they might be in Bermuda for the same thing… It was possible. Anything was possible. The world was filled with the possible.
    “A family thing,” she said.
    The suspicion was no more than an itch when the car pulled up outside of the hotel. But once that question grabbed hold, it would not be dismissed without an answer. Life, destiny, the universe, something in the cosmos had its eye on him.
    The limo door opened before he had a chance to ask more subtle yet probing questions about her family thing. He was in Bermuda for a family thing. He knew, as he stepped from the air-conditioning into the perfect afternoon air, that destiny very well might not be the only thing that had brought them together.
    Eduardo offered her a hand, and she took his hand as her body unfolded from the back of the car until she stood next to him. He arranged to have the bags carried inside, then put an arm around her to lead her into the cool colonial interior of the Hamilton Princess.
    When he'd first encountered her at the airport bar, he assumed she had to be a prostitute. A very expensive and extremely professional working girl, but still a prostitute. Not that he judged. He was a business person with a product to sell and had assumed she was no different from him. He regretted asking her for the truth, but he'd been caught out twice since his wife had died.
    His status as a widower rather than divorced, was something he'd have to clear up with Henna after he was wholly satisfied she wasn't a very clever woman who had targeted him. He hated that he'd grown skeptical, but experience, fortunately not his, but rather a friend of his, had taught him that wealthy men could be targeted by unscrupulous women. He'd never been taken for a ride, but he had been mistaken. He wasn't going to be fooled a third time into believing a woman wanted to bed him just because she wanted to and not for financial gain.
    The raw sexual feelings and the