Mr. Rook

by Mimi Jean Pamfiloff

  Luke glanced over his shoulder, toward the object of my attention, and then snickered.

  “What’s so funny?” I asked.

  “I think I may have figured out why you were unhappy with your date.”

  “Oh?”

  Luke leaned in closer. “Rook doesn’t sleep with guests. Not ever.”

  My mouth fell open. “You think I’m here for sex?”

  “If you’re not,” he bent down and whispered in my ear, “I’ll be very disappointed.”

  Player. “Then prepare to be disappointed. I’m here for something entirely different—but since you mentioned it, why doesn’t Rook like to…play with the guests?”

  Luke shrugged. “Not sure. I guess he thinks it would be unprofessional to mix business with pleasure.”

  So Luke had no clue. Because Rook would have come out and said his “rule” was more like a self-imposed company policy he followed. He’d given me the impression that his rule had been dictated.

  I turned my full attention back to Luke, my wheels turning faster. If Rook carefully screened everyone, then perhaps he knew exactly who I was. And if Rook was also a “serial perfectionist,” perhaps this entire thing—upgrading me, the date, his special attention—had been orchestrated to gain my trust and confidence. I mean, he probably knew that sooner or later I’d fess up and ask them what happened to my sister. I’d be far more likely to believe their story if I trusted him.

  Or wanted him.

  Anyway, it was all a guess—a huge guess—but it made more sense than anything else.

  Well, if Rook was faking his interest in me today, then he won’t mind me taking Luke home for the evening. In fact, he would welcome it. “Make sure Stephanie has a good time. Make sure she’s sent home completely satisfied, knowing the guests are well taken care of.” That was what he’d say.

  I turned toward Luke and smiled. “You know what? I think you’re right. Maybe I am here to get a little wild. Would you like to come back to my bungalow?”

  Luke’s hazel eyes sparked with lust. “Yes, I would,” he said in a low voice. “But only if you’re completely sure. Wouldn’t want you to wake up tomorrow and feel like I took advantage of you.” He ran his thumb over my bottom lip.

  I shook my head, feeling Rook’s eyes on us. “I’m not intoxicated, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  “Great.” Luke dipped his head and placed a soft kiss on my lips. I felt nothing. Not a damned thing. I think it was because I wanted it to be someone else. Someone who made me feel terrified and exhilarated and aroused as hell.

  Someone who’s probably playing you.

  Still, I smiled and batted my eyelashes.

  “Let’s go.” I took Luke’s hand and turned, immediately noticing that Rook had gone.

  I stopped walking.

  “Everything okay?” Luke asked.

  “Oh, uh…yeah. Fine. Maybe I need a little water—long day.”

  “I’m sure there’s plenty of water in your room.”

  I nodded with a fake smile. Rook had left without a word, and I couldn’t lie. I felt more than a little disappointed, but at least I knew what I was dealing with.

  And stupid me. I had really started falling for Rook’s little show.

  Luke and I left the restaurant and strolled down the dimly lit walkway toward my bungalow, millions of bright stars lighting up the sky. Very romantic, but I knew I couldn’t go through with sleeping with him.

  “You know, on second thought, Luke.” I stopped and faced him. “I think I had too much fun today.”

  He was silent for a moment, but even with the dull lighting, I could see his frown. “I won’t pretend I’m not just a little put out. After all, you are a beautiful woman. But I understand.”

  “Thanks.” I appreciated his gentleman’s attitude, though I wouldn’t expect anything less. Not on this island.

  “I’ll walk you to your door?”

  I didn’t want to be rude, so I agreed. A few minutes later, we came up on my bungalow. I pulled the little key card from my pocket, popped it in, and unlocked the door.

  Luke took my hand. “I don’t need to tell you that if you change your mind, I’m here all week.”

  “Luke, take a fucking hike,” Rook growled, standing to our side with a bitter scowl, wearing a dark linen suit and black T-shirt. He looked casual and formal, sexy and dangerous, all at the same time.

  “You scared the hell out of me.” I held my hand over my heart. “Where did you come from?”

  Rook ignored me, his cold eyes locked onto Luke, who looked much smaller in comparison, despite being a tall man himself.

  “Good night, Ms. Brenna.” Luke retreated, clearly not wanting to step on the boss’s toes in any way.

  “What was that?” I snapped.

  Rook’s eyes twitched. “I thought you were staying in.”

  “I changed my mind.”

  Wait. Rook’s here. So this was good. It possibly meant he had not been putting on an act. On the other hand, I hadn’t expected him to react so strongly.

  Rook pushed open the door of my bungalow and gestured for me to go inside.

  I glared and then entered with him on my heels. He shut the door behind us, went over to the couch, and took a seat, draping his arm over the back of the gray sofa like a cocky bastard who owned the place.

  I guess he does, but still. What’s with him?

  “Mind explaining what’s going on?” I folded my arms over my chest.

  “Take a seat.” He jerked his head toward the armchair.

  “No. Thanks. I’ll stand.”

  “Very well, but you’re tired and have been drinking.”

  “I’m fine. But is that why you came to my bungalow? To check up on me because you think I had too much wine?” I’d only had two glasses.

  “I thought you were with me this week.”

  My stomach instantly fluttered and rolled. I hadn’t expected him to say something so…so…blatantly possessive. Shockingly, I liked the sound of it. I liked the idea of Rook wanting me.

  I mentally put the brakes on that and pulled myself back. Because as much as I wanted to hope Rook wasn’t playing me, his presence in my bungalow wasn’t absolute proof of anything. Other than he’s pissed. Which didn’t make much sense.

  “What exactly do you mean by ‘with you’?” I asked. “You told me you don’t sleep with guests.”

  Rook rose from the couch, walked over, and placed himself an inch from my body. “Is that why you’re really here on this island, Stephanie? To get fucked?” He took his index finger and lifted my chin, forcing me to look him in the eyes. I was beginning to wonder why he did that.

  He wants to see if you’re telling the truth. I wasn’t, of course. But could he really see it in my eyes? Time would tell.

  I shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be here for sex?”

  “Because you’re a beautiful woman, and if you simply wanted to get laid, you could do that back home.”

  “I’m on vacation. Maybe after today’s event, I need to do what you said and relax a little.”

  “Then take a bubble bath,” he said with a stern voice.

  “I’ve had enough water for one day. Thanks.”

  “All right.” He stood. “I’ll call Luke and have him come back. It’s your fantasy.” He reached for his phone and began to dial.

  Rook was calling my bluff. But what did he really want from me? Because I knew what I wanted: more time with him. More information about the island.

  “Wait.” I blew out a breath. “I already told Luke I didn’t want to sleep with him. He was just walking me home.”

  Rook returned his phone to his pocket and flashed a wicked little smile, like he’d won some big stupid ego prize.

  “So now that I’ve confessed, tell me why you’re really here,” I asked.

  He sat again, looking cockier than hell. “I already told you, Stephanie, I want to help you.”

  I raised a brow. “Why? Why me?”

  “
I like seeing guests leave my island happy. You are my guest.”

  “And so are sixteen other women,” I argued.

  “And I chose you. Why look a gift horse in the mouth?”

  I stared, waiting for more, but he merely gazed at me with those intense eyes. He’s not going to tell me more. Not tonight, anyway.

  “Look, I’m tired,” I said. “It was a long day.” I went to the door and opened it.

  Rook walked over, stopping right in front of me, his body so close I could feel the heat. Goose bumps exploded on my skin.

  “Why did you send him away, Stephanie?”

  Because it’s hard to look at another man when you’re around. “Why do you have your rules?”

  “Why do you ask?” he threw back.

  I gazed up into those intense eyes with thick dark lashes. They instantly tanked my concentration. He’s so damned beautiful. Still, I noticed how tired he looked. A little purple under the eyes, and he had sprinkles of silver hair right over his temples. Strange. I don’t remember that.

  “Maybe I’m asking about your rule because I don’t like it. I’m sure your wife does, though.”

  He laughed. Hard. “I understand why you might think that, but I assure you there is no wife. Or girlfriend. Or lover of any sort.”

  “Then whose rules?”

  “As I said, it is complicated. That doesn’t mean, however, that I cannot give you what you came for.” He leaned in and spoke in a low voice. “Because we both know you didn’t come for fucking.”

  My mind produced images of him and me doing just that—hard, hot, animalistic fucking. Why did he have to use that word?

  “Then what am I here for?” I whispered, feeling my chest and body coil with sexual tension.

  He placed a light kiss on my cheek, allowing his stubble to scrape against my skin. “I intend to find out. One petal at a time. See you in the morning, Ms. Brenna.” He turned and disappeared down the dark walkway, leaving me there breathless.

  The man might not be playing me, but he’s definitely toying with me.

  I closed the door and pressed my back to it, feeling hot and wet in all the wrong places. Rook had some crazy sexual power over me. He’s like a damned drug. And I wanted more and more, even knowing how dangerous it could be for my health.

  I definitely have a death wish.

  CHAPTER TEN

  That night, I went back to tossing and turning in bed. Rook had every cell in my body sparking with need and every spark in my brain churning out questions. Tomorrow, I would start pushing him for information—about the island, how he kept it a secret, who he knew. I would ask about his personal life and be pushy as hell.

  “Stephanie…”

  “What the—” I sat up in my bed, my body flooding with adrenaline.

  “Stephanie…” the soft voice called out again.

  Ohshit. Ohshit. It sounded like…like…Cici? I covered my mouth. Am I dreaming again? Because I didn’t feel like it. I felt awake and clearheaded and—

  I heard her voice again.

  “Hello?” I scrambled from bed and went into the living room. There was no one there. Jesus Christ. What is this? A sick joke? Someone had to be messing with me, because there were no rational explanations for this.

  I spun in a circle, holding my breath and listening. After a long moment of complete silence and me trying not to freak the hell out, I went to the window and peeked outside. There, standing between the trees, was the same man holding his lantern.

  “Oh shit!” I jumped in my skin. The hood blocked his face save for his scruffy chin. The brown robe he wore looked old and tattered, like it had been sewn from a potato sack.

  I was about to go back to the bedroom and retrieve my cell, but then the man waved, gesturing for me to follow. He turned and headed into the woods.

  “Stephanie…” the voice called out again, like a faint whisper seeping through a gap in the window.

  “Ohmygod.” That is Cici. I went to the door, jerked it open, and ran outside. “Cici!” I yelled.

  “Stephanie.” Her voice came from the direction where I’d seen the hooded man disappear. I paused for a split second, my head spinning, my heart thrashing. I knew none of this made sense. I knew only crazy people ran off into the jungle in the middle of the night, chasing voices. But I loved my sister. Nothing mattered except getting her back.

  Then I spotted the faint pale figure of a petite woman slipping into the jungle. Her height and size were the same as my sister’s.

  “Cici?” I called out and ran barefoot after her. I grunted as branches lashed at my face and my toes slammed into rocks hidden beneath a thick layer of vegetation. Suddenly, I burst from the jungle out onto a small sandy beach surrounding a lagoon, the full moon above reflected in the rippling water.

  I spun on my heels. “Cici!” I yelled. But the only sounds came from a few random birds and a gust of wind blowing through the trees surrounding the water.

  I doubled over, resting my hands on my knees, to catch my breath. The side cramps burned through me like a wildfire. Fuck. Fuck. What is happening?

  A small splash in the lagoon, like a fish jumping, suddenly caught my attention. Slowly, I stood and noticed a pale naked figure standing waist deep in the lagoon.

  My eyes took a moment to focus. “Cici…” I whispered underneath my heaving breaths. The moonlight only illuminated her shoulders and forehead, but I knew it was her. “Cici!”

  She turned with her back to me and waved slowly, like she wanted me to follow her into the water.

  “Wait!” I yelled, watching her wade deeper. “Cici!”

  Her head went under, and I lunged for the water, hitting a hard wall.

  “Stephanie!” a deep voice roared and someone gripped me by the shoulders. “Stephanie!” Rook’s voice flooded my ears. “Wake the fuck up!”

  I blinked. It was early morning, and I stood at the edge of a lagoon. The same lagoon I’d seen Cici disappear into.

  Ohmygod. What is this? “Where am I?” I whispered.

  “We’ve been looking for you all morning. One of the maids saw you wandering over the bridge before dawn.” Rook frowned. “What are you doing out here?”

  “Cici.” I pointed to the dark water. “She was here. She was right here.”

  Rook jerked back his head. “Cici?”

  “My sister, Cici. She was right there!”

  Rook’s frown turned into flat lips and hard eyes. “Your sister is Cici?”

  “Yes,” I muttered.

  Ohgod. I’m going crazy. I felt my knees give out. Whatever this place was doing to me, I was not in control.

  Rook scooped me into his arms. “Well, that explains everything.”

  I don’t recall much of anything after that, but when I mentally returned, I was sitting in a living room with an antique grandfather clock in the corner, oil paintings of old whaling ships, and woven tapestries covering the dark stained floor. The wooden ceiling fan above clicked away, slowly pushing the aromas of cinnamon and some exotic floral scent around the room.

  The couch, made of burgundy velveteen, reminded me of the type one might see in an old Victorian parlor.

  Everything looked old, but in perfect condition. Whose house is this? Because it smelled like Rook.

  “Hello?” I called out, but no one replied.

  Feeling light-headed and still in my black PJ shirt from the night before, I eased myself up onto my sore feet and stepped in to the hallway. Rook’s hypnotic, deep voice rumbled away somewhere close by.

  I followed the sound down the hallway. All of the doors were closed save the one at the end. I tiptoed closer to listen in.

  “I don’t give a fuck how this mess happened, Mrs. Day,” growled Rook. “You did not do your job. You did not screen her properly. You are fired and will receive nothing as a severance. And if you break our nondisclosure agreement and go blabbing to the world, you will find yourself living out your days in a cardboard box. Is that clear?”

  He
paused, but I didn’t hear anyone speak.

  “Good,” Rook said. “Now start packing. You’ll be on the Sunday plane. Goodbye.” Something slammed down—a phone, I presumed—and I heard him sigh-slash-grumble.

  I stood frozen for a moment, wondering if I should turn back around or just walk in.

  “I can hear you out there, Stephanie,” said Rook.

  I guess I’m going in. I gently pushed on the door.

  Rook sat behind an antique-looking desk, a wall of old books behind him. A brown leather sofa and reading lamp were opposite him, and the window directly in front of me gazed out into a dazzling garden filled with bright flowers.

  Rook stood, giving me a full view of his jeans and those magnificent shoulders draped in an untucked, black, button-down shirt.

  “Glad to see you’re awake. How are you feeling?” His tone was sharp.

  “I’ve felt better.”

  “As have I.” His handsome face looked worn, like he hadn’t slept for days. Even his hair seemed a little duller with more sprinkles of salt in the pepper.

  Huh. Perhaps he colored his hair and it was fading; although, he didn’t seem the type to get a dye job. Everything about him said he didn’t give the tiniest crap of craps what anyone thought.

  “Please, take a seat.” He glanced across the room at the brown leather loveseat.

  “Thanks.” My feet were throbbing, evidence that not everything from last night had been a dream. Not that I had a clue what had really happened.

  My head fucking hurts. My heart hurt even more. It felt like the day I’d realized Cici hadn’t come home from her vacation.

  Rook walked around his desk and leaned his imposing frame against it, his pale, sharp eyes drilling into me. I suddenly had the impression I was in trouble. Big trouble. Those broad shoulders looked stiff and those full, sensual lips appeared ready to unleash some angry fucking words.

  “Why didn’t you tell me who you really are, Miss Fitzgerald?” He crossed his thick arms over his chest, and with his sleeves rolled up, I noticed the ropes of muscles on his forearms straining.

  Wait. “Don’t you think you should start the conversation with something a little more important? Like…where’s my fucking sister?” I snarled.