Hot Summer Read online

  Summer’s breath came in shallow gasps as she sat still, not feeling she could move even if she wanted to. She was like a bird frozen in the mesmerizing stare of a snake, knowing it was about to be eaten alive but not able to make a move to save its own life.

  She moaned and closed her eyes as his lips stroked the sensitive skin then moved to the base of her throat where he licked softly and gently. She didn’t realize that she was still clutching the handkerchief tightly in her hand until she felt his strong fingers pry hers open to pull it away so that he could seduce her palm with his thumb.

  “Relax, baby.” He moved his lips up her neck and to her ear. “You’re so tense. Just relax.”

  As he spoke he pushed her back gently into the plush pillows and began to nibble her ear lobe. He gave a lick just behind her ear and shock waves ran down her spine.

  “Oh, God,” she breathed, “what are you doing to me?”

  “What someone should have done to you a long time ago, Summer Jones,” he whispered. “Teach you what it means to be a woman.”

  HOT SUMMER

  Judy Powell

  Dedicated to the memory of my dear mother and friend, Evelyn May Powell.

  Your life was an inspiration. I will never forget you.

  Copyright © 2011 Judy Powell

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form, electronic or otherwise (mechanical, photocopying, recording or stored in a retrieval system) without the prior written consent of the Publisher. Such action is an infringement of the copyright law.

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  www.judypowell.com

  [email protected]

  The Hot Caribbean Love Series

  Volume 1 - Hot Summer

  Volume 2 - Hot Chocolat

  Volume 3 - Some Like It Hot

  The Hot Caribbean Love Collection (Vols. 1 - 3)

  HOT SUMMER

  If you love to explore diverse cultures, settings and people while enjoying the sizzle of a roller coaster romance, then this story is for you.

  A hot-tempered spitfire and a sexy, arrogant man - put them together and sparks fly!

  After her first embarrassing encounter Summer Jones vows to stay away from suave record producer, Lance Munroe. But then she ends up working for the man. Her quick temper and sharp tongue keep landing her in hot water with him but no matter how hard she tries she can't deny her growing attraction for him. Then they go on a business trip to Jamaica - and that's when her world is turned upside down...

  Lance is intrigued by the feisty woman who practically tells him off the first time they meet. When they begin working together he realizes how much he enjoys the challenge of taming the little tigress. But, before he knows it, he's the one caught in the snare of passion. The tables are turned - the tigress has tamed the lion.

  If you love a sizzling romance, follow Summer and Lance from Chicago to Jamaica and be swept away in the thrill of their hot summer...

  1

  Summer picked up her tray of drinks and, balancing it gingerly on her raised right palm, turned towards the patio. It was her fourth day at work but already she had begun to look forward to the daily display of beauty at the restaurant as the setting July sun cast red and gold hues over the waters of Lake Michigan. The day before, she’d been able to slip away to the balcony for a few moments to drink in the colors and breathe in the warm breeze that blew over the lake.

  Taking a break would be out of the question today. It was Friday and the restaurant was full of Chicagoans as well as tourists, all determined to enjoy the beautiful summer evening.

  On reaching table seven Summer gave a polite smile and began to place drinks beside each of the three clients as well as at the unoccupied place at the table. Two men, one sandy haired and the other dark and muscled, sat with an elegant honey-colored woman with flowing black hair and scarlet nails. She’d been told they were waiting for a friend and was asked to bring an extra drink, a Pina Colada. She guessed another woman would be joining the group.

  As the table was in the most private corner of the patio Summer was pleased to find that she didn’t have to shout to be heard. She straightened and, still smiling, asked, “Would you like to place your orders now?”

  The men smiled back but the woman totally ignored her. Instead, she stretched her perfectly manicured hand for her glass and took a sip.

  Then she turned haughty eyes to Summer. “You brought me the wrong drink,” she said.

  Summer’s smile faltered. “I’m sure you told me you wanted a virgin Strawberry Daiquiri?” Her voice held just a hint of uncertainty.

  “No, I didn’t. I told you to bring me a Strawberry Daiquiri and a virgin Pina Colada.” The woman put the glass down and sat back in her chair with a look of annoyance.

  “I’m sorry. Let me change that right away.” Summer reached for the glass but the muscle-bound man put his hand on hers and gently pushed it away. He was laughing.

  “Come off it, Monisha. Give the girl a break. I heard you order a virgin Strawberry Daiquiri so don’t go changing your mind now.” He leaned back in his chair and grinned at the woman. “You do this every time we go out. Now I’ve got Mike as witness.”

  Monisha’s eyes flashed daggers at him but he only laughed and blew her a kiss. She pouted for a moment longer then, as if suddenly bored with her game, she shrugged and turned her attention back to the frothy drink.

  With a barely audible sigh of relief Summer flipped open her book and waited for the guests to order. She hadn’t written the drink order down. After all, there were only three of them. Still, after what had just happened she decided she’d better take notes.

  She knew people like Monisha, women who suddenly found themselves with a little power, who wanted to use it at every opportunity. She’d been on the job only four days and couldn’t afford to mess things up. She definitely was not going to give this woman a second chance to chew her out.

  “What’s your house special?” The man they’d called Mike was flipping through the menu.

  “Today we have chicken with black-eyed peas and yellow rice served with okra gumbo,” she said brightly, glad for the diversion. “There’s also peach cobbler for dessert.”

  “Sounds good.” He nodded and handed the menu to her. “I’ll have that.”

  “I’ll go for your seafood gumbo with red beans and rice,” said the other man. “The gumbo here is always good.”

  “And you, ma’am?” Summer turned to the bored-looking woman who sat drumming her long fingernails on the table.

  “Bring me two orders of baked snapper with yams and fried plantains,” she said, stifling a yawn.

  Then, as Summer began scribbling on her pad, the woman stopped her. “No, change that. Bring me just one order of the baked snapper. Make the other one oxtail and beans with rice.”

  Summer didn’t bother to look up but simply scratched out what she had written on the pad and started again. The two men chuckled.

  “Don’t get yourself all tied up again, Monisha,” Mike teased. “If the order gets messed up, next time it will be all your fault.”

  Ignoring the banter, Summer thanked them and headed back to the kitchen.

  “Hey, Summer, how’s it going out there?” The cook’s heavy body shook as he stirred an aromatic concoction in a huge iron pot. He laid the large spoon on a saucer, reached up for one of the copper pots that hung above his head, then yelled, “Hurry it up with them carrots, Lisa. You’re holdin’ me up.”

  A slim girl wearing a chef’s hat and a white apron quickly brought a tray of chopped carrots and
the heavy-set man emptied it into the bubbling stew. He turned back to Summer. “So, how is it?”

  “It’s okay, Brian.” Summer shrugged. “Busy like crazy but nothing I can’t handle.”

  “Well said, for a new girl. You picked the busiest time of year to start working here. It can’t be easy on you but you seem to be holding your own pretty good. You’re covering Maria’s tables too, right?”

  “Yeah.” Summer nodded. “She couldn’t have picked a worse day to call in sick, but it’s okay. I’m hangin’ in there.” Summer rested her tray on the counter and picked up another one laden with food. “Table four, right?”

  “Yup. Just get that out there and come right back. I’ve got two more trays coming up.” Brian slammed a saucepan on the burner. He looked across at the younger man who was stacking dishes into the machine. “Keep ‘em coming, Jason. We’re gonna run out soon.”

  Summer grabbed the heavy tray, backed out of the hectic kitchen and headed for table four. As she walked carefully with her load she spied Ted Jackson standing by the door, watching her. The manager had been skeptical about hiring her to replace a server who had recently retired. She lacked experience, he’d said, but she’d convinced him that she was a fast learner and was good for the job. He took her on board but kept watching her like a hawk since hiring her. All his employees had been with him for at least four years. Except her. So far she hadn’t messed up but she knew she had to be on her p’s and q’s until he was totally comfortable with her.

  She’d thought this job would be a walkover but soon realized that it required speed, a great memory, skill at handling heavy trays, and a placid spirit in the face of irate customers. With Mr. Jackson’s eyes on her Summer was the perfect hostess. She carefully served each dish at table four, smiled pleasantly and asked if she could be of further assistance. They were a cheerful group, five women dining together, obviously good friends. They thanked Summer for her help and with a nod she headed back to the kitchen.

  It was almost half an hour before Brian called Summer to collect table seven’s tray. She’d been so busy dealing with the other eleven tables that she’d totally forgotten about that group. She quickly grabbed the tray and set out for the patio. She plastered a smile on her face and steeled herself for the complaints.

  The orange of the sunset had softened to a rose colored twilight and as Summer approached the table in the far corner of the patio she realized that the fourth person had arrived. The shadowy figure at the end was partially hidden by the artificial palm leaves which were part of the decor. The figure was definitely too tall to be a woman.

  A well-muscled, broad shouldered man sat in the corner. The dimness made it difficult to see his eyes but a strip of light from a nearby lamp illuminated a slip of moustache over a chiseled mouth. As Summer approached, the strong lips parted in a sudden smile then the man threw his head back and laughed out loud. The unexpected laughter caught her by surprise and she found herself smiling involuntarily. When she got to the table the slight smile was still on her lips and she opened her mouth to quickly issue an apology for the delay.

  Before she could get a word out the woman swung her eyes round. “So. You finally grace us with your presence. Is this the kind of service you offer here? Just so you know, it’s terrible.”

  Summer was taken aback by the harsh comment and her face grew hot with embarrassment. She spoke quickly, the words coming out far less elegantly than she had intended. “I’m very sorry, ma’am. The restaurant…it’s so crowded on a Friday. I really apologize for your wait.”

  Monisha’s scowl deepened. “How hard can it be to get some food to four people in a reasonable amount of time? God, you would think it’s rocket science.”

  “Ma’am, again, my apologies,” Summer said, struggling to keep her voice calm and her face pleasant, “but Fridays are extremely busy for us during the summertime and we’re short one server today. Please bear with us.”

  “That’s not my problem.” Monisha said coldly. “We’ve been waiting for over half an hour and that’s not acceptable. Some waitress you are.” Under her breath she added, “God, where do they get these people?”

  Suddenly, the man in the corner spoke, “Monisha, that’s enough. Let’s not create a scene here.”

  But it was too late. Summer had had enough. Her feet ached from running back and forth for the past six hours and her arms were tired from holding the heavy tray. And now this woman was getting personal. The control she had been fighting so hard to maintain finally snapped.

  She deposited the tray of food on a nearby table and folded her arms across her chest. “How dare you speak to me like that? If you’re not satisfied with my service then speak to the manager. Please. But don’t sit there and throw insults at me. I won’t accept that from you or anybody.” Summer’s breath was tight in her chest and with every word her voice grew harder. “I’m neither your pet nor your servant and I expect respect and courtesy just as you expect it from me.”

  Without waiting for a reply she picked up the tray again then turned back to the table. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’d like to do my job.” She ignored the woman who sat glaring up at her and pretended not to notice the chuckles from the men who had been there earlier. She avoided the eyes of the newcomer who remained silent in the shadows. Her face was rigid and her movements quick. In seconds she had set the plates on the table. With her face still grim she said, “Enjoy your meals.” Without another word she marched back to the kitchen, the empty tray under her arm.

  Summer burst through the swinging doors and slammed the tray down on the counter so hard that five pairs of eyes turned to her in surprise.

  “Hey, hey, what’s up?” Brian rested his knife down and frowned as he saw her expression. “What’s wrong?”

  “I’m so ticked off I could scream!” Summer’s chest heaved and she clenched her fists tightly by her side.

  Lisa had stopped chopping carrots and Jason put his dish towel down and turned towards her. Clem, Brian’s assistant and Carla, one of the servers, stopped mid-conversation and stared at her in anticipation. They were all eager to hear what had happened.

  “Back to work. All of you,” Brian growled and grabbed Summer’s elbow. He pulled her towards the back entrance. “What happened out there?”

  “Brian, there was this woman…she just got on my last nerve!”

  “They come in all types, Summer. You know that. You’ve just got to know how to deal with them.”

  “I know all that, Brian, but this one just got on the wrong side of me. I had to put her in her place. She was just too much. Can you believe she had the nerve to tell me off because she had to wait half an hour? It’s Friday, for God’s sake. Who the hell doesn’t have to wait a little while for their food?” Her voice rose as she spoke. “I just felt like ripping that weave right off her head. That woman…”

  “Alright, Summer, just calm down. You’re going to run into lots more like her so just suck it up.” Brian’s firm voice silenced her. “We’ve got lots more people to feed. Now grab this tray and go get table three.”

  Summer grunted in frustration then turned to do Brian’s bidding. At that moment Ted Jackson stepped through the door, his face stern. Summer’s heart sank and she slowly put the tray back down on the counter.

  “Miss Jones, what just happened out there?”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Jackson?” Summer stalled.

  “Don’t play dumb with me. You know what I’m talking about. You just insulted one of our patrons.”

  “I can explain…”

  “There’s nothing to explain. I saw everything. You were rude to our guests.” He folded his arms across his chest and scowled at her. “Do you think I built my business that way? Obviously you have a serious temper problem but you’d better get it under control or else you won’t be working here for long.”

  Summer’s heart raced at the manager’s last remark. It had taken her a while to find this job and she could not afford to lose it now. Damn her f
or her quick temper. It was always getting her in trouble.

  “Mr. Jackson, I’m sorry. I just lost my cool for a minute but it won’t happen again. I promise.”

  “You’re sure that’s a promise you can keep?” His voice was calmer now but his face did not soften.

  “Definitely. I really need this job.” Summer lowered her voice and tried to sound humble and subdued. ”I’ll make sure to keep my temper in control from now on.”

  “Good.” The manager seemed convinced. “And you can start by going back to table seven and apologizing.”

  “What?” Summer’s mouth fell open. She closed it quickly then started again. “What did you say?”

  “You heard me. You either apologize or you no longer have a job here. You insulted some very important people - regulars at this establishment, big spenders. That table has been reserved every Friday for the past five weeks for Lance Munroe and his group and I’m not about to lose that business.”

  At her questioning look he continued, “He’s not just any customer, Miss Jones. He’s one of Chicago’s most successful record producers. And, as luck would have it, he arrived just in time to witness your deplorable behavior.” He shook his head. There was a pained expression on his face. “And the woman you insulted, don’t you know who she is?”

  Summer shook her head in bewilderment.

  “That’s Monisha Stone. What rock do you live under? Who in Chicago doesn’t know Monisha Stone? She’s the newest pop singer from this city.”

  “I…I haven’t had much time to keep up.” She heard a snigger behind her and knew Jason and Clem were enjoying every minute of the episode.

  “I can see that. But anyway,” Mr. Jackson turned away and headed back through the swinging doors, “you know what you have to do. Get on with it, please.” He left Summer standing, silent and fuming, in the doorway.