employees do all the dirty work?”
“She doesn’t work for me, she’s my business partner, and Milk Dud’s still in the kitchen. Dudley’s our chief cook and bottle washer. Anyway, I’d do the same for her if she had a hot date.”
“Is that what this is?” He fought the urge to slip his hand into her curls. They were so soft and plentiful, framing her pretty face and cut so that wisps of dark hair fell over her finely arched brows.
“This is whatever you want it to be,” she said, taking his beer. “May I?”
Without waiting for a response, she took a long, slow swig, the creamy skin of her throat undulating with each swallow.
“Mmmm.” She put the bottle down and pointed at him, the bracelets clinking on her arm, instantly reminding him of days gone by. And nights. “Now, you don’t drink another thing and I’ll let you drive the yacht.”
He gave her a surprised look. “You have one?”
“No, but I figured you did.”
“Sorry to disappoint. Just a Porsche.”
“That’s almost as good.”
“Rented.”
She nudged him. “You want to lose me forever? Let’s go.”
“Where?”
“Sightseeing.”
“At midnight?”
“Sure.” She slid off the barstool and tugged his hand to do the same. “That Porsche ought to do some damage on the Seven Mile Bridge, and we can sit under the palm trees at Bahía Honda beach and . . . talk. That’s what you wanted to do, right?”
So she still liked outdoor sex. “Right.”
The lights of the Key’s signature bridge stretched so far it looked as if it ended in Cuba. Dan glanced from the endless stream of white lights to the woman on his right, who kept the conversation so light and teasing that he really didn’t have a chance to ask many questions, or tell her much about himself.
Of course she wanted to keep it impersonal. To her this was a hook-up, plain and simple. She dodged the few questions he asked, and the only new tidbit of information that he learned was that Smitty, her husband, had died four years ago of a brain tumor, leaving her his bar, which evidently was deep in debt. She’d brought in a partner to help share the burden and they had some plans for renovation and growth, but it was slow going.
Nothing about her security, safety, home life. None of the things he ostensibly came to find out.
“What about you?” she asked, adeptly turning the questions away. “I still don’t know your last name.”
“Gallagher.”
“Oh, that explains the Emerald Isle eyes. What’s your business?”
“I’m a security specialist.”
“What does that mean? You install alarms?”
He laughed. “I am the alarm. I’m a bodyguard, a personal protection specialist.”
“Really? That’s very cool.” She reached for his right hip and he flipped his hand from the gearshift and snagged her wrist before she touched him.
“It’s on my ankle, but that’s not a smart move.”
“You have a gun on you?”
“Yep.”
“Me, too.”
He shot her a look. “You carry concealed? Are you licensed?”
“I’m friends with the deputy sheriff.” She wrinkled her nose. “Does that count?”
“Only if he’s the one to arrest you. What do you have?”
“A .22 pistol.”
A water gun. But still, why carry? “I didn’t think there was an inch of your lovely body I hadn’t checked out. Where you hiding your iron?”
“In my purse.”
“Where it would do absolutely no good if you were attacked.”
“Spoken like a genuine bodyguard. Don’t worry, it’s just for peace of mind.”
“Have you been threatened?” His brain flashed to the big Greek fortune hunter at the bar.
She didn’t answer, but pointed to a turnoff as they reached the end of the bridge. “That’s Bahía Honda State Park. If you park way down at that other end, we can easily jump the gate.”
He gave her another look of disbelief. “It’s closed?”
“Come on.” She tapped his arm. “Like anything we’re doing tonight is going by the rules. Live dangerously.”
“I’m a bodyguard.”
“All the more reason for me to feel perfectly safe. Honestly, I’ve been here a million times for night fishing. It’s fine. Marathon goes to sleep at eleven, and all the criminals are down in Key West.”
He parked, and in minutes she had them over an admittedly pathetic gate, and guided him by the closed concession stand, bathrooms and showers, then up a path to a secluded beach. Palm trees and heavy foliage lined the sand, providing shade in the day and shadows at night.
“Here’s a nice spot.” She found a patch of grass, tucked under a tall palm and within view of the silver-white waves and cream-colored sand.
Dropping down, she