The only reason I cave to her demands is because of Cherise.
Irritated by thoughts of my mother, I review the prospectuses on the startups vying for financial backing. If there’s one good thing about my mother, she loves supporting new and innovative ideas.
It may be the only trait the two of us share. My recommendations for funding need to be finalized by New Year’s Eve. After our conversation earlier today, another look is in order. Yet why does she want them to present in person? We’ve never done that.
Now, I get to spend ten days in paradise looking over fifty proposals instead of doing something much more interesting.
The one with Quinn’s name drives me insane, and for the tenth time, I glance toward the restaurant entrance.
I don’t believe in coincidences and my suspicions grow by the second. She wouldn’t be the first woman to leverage what she could to secure my good will. Yet again, I tell myself to forget about the auburn beauty with blazing emerald eyes.
Women can’t be trusted.
So why am I at the bar waiting for her to come down for dinner?
The woman needs to eat. This is the closest restaurant to her room and by far the most popular. Ergo, she must come here.
Movement at the entrance draws my eye. My good friend Jack arrives with a gorgeous, blonde model draped all over him. I’m curious how things went with Quinn. When he sees me, he gives a chin bump in greeting, then settles his date in a secluded booth. Instead of waiting for a waitress, he comes over to me.
“How’s it going?” He throws a fake punch at my midsection. “Where’s your girl?”
“I’m flying solo.”
“Oh, is that what we’re calling it? The cutie in the honeymoon suite is on the down-low?”
“Don’t be a jerk.” I’m pissed because Jack always sees through my shit. “I’m just having a drink alone.”
“While you’re waiting for Quinn Hayes? What is it about that woman?”
“Nothing.” My attention shifts to the entrance for the fifth time since he arrived.
“No reason to hide it. She cleans up pretty nice by the way.”
“You stayed with her?”
“Nah, I got one of the maids to do that, but I went back to check on her. She’s nursing a pretty nasty hangover, but otherwise survived.”
“How long ago was that?”
“I thought you weren’t interested?”
“Shut up.”
He grabs the bartender’s attention with a flick of two fingers. “Two glasses of champagne.”
“Starting the night off with champagne? Who’s your latest acquisition?”
He turns his attention to his date. “Her name is Emily Harrison, daughter of a shipping mogul and I’m hoping for at least one kind of merger tonight.”
“Does he know what you’re doing to his daughter?”
“He knows I’m with her, as for what I’m doing to her…” He makes a rude gesture.
Andrew brings my drink, along with Jack’s champagne.
Jack grabs the two flutes. “That innocent looking thing is a lioness in bed. I have the scratches to prove it. It’s always the ones you don’t expect who surprise you the most.”
“If you say so. In my experience, I’d watch out. She sees something she wants. When she gets it—game over. How long are you here?” It might be fun to get in a few dives with him, scuba or skydiving. Doesn’t matter to me. I need something to destress my life.
“Just a couple days. I have to get her back to her family by Christmas Eve. What about you? How long are you hiding out here?” He knows me too well. The last time I flew home for the holidays was years ago. Now, I fly away from home whenever possible. It keeps things civil between me and my mother.
“I’m here through New Year’s, then head back home.” I gesture toward the stacks of papers. “It’s time for our annual venture capital investment.”
He glances at the papers. “Anything interesting? You always get the coolest proposals sent your way.”
“A few things stand out.” Like Quinn’s virtual reality proposal. Such a shame the business plan is a steaming hot mess of ineptitude. Maybe that’s why she’s stalking me?
“Well, pick one that’s really good. Maybe there’s someone wanting to build one of those sex robot things?” He jabs me in the ribs. “That could be fun.”
“No sex robot in the bunch. Some look promising. Others are just way out there.” I crane my neck to check out the woman Jack placed in a booth. “Your date is getting bored. Better hurry up and run back to her before she finds some other rich bastard to take advantage of.”
“Your attitude sucks. As for her, she sucks too, but in a really good kind of way. Which is why I don’t care what you think. She may or may not be using me, but what do I care? I’m using her too, and it’s not like I plan on marrying the girl.” With those words, he leaves me to my barstool where there’s nothing to do but stew and think.
Is it possible Quinn set me up? She wouldn’t be the first. Nor would it be the most extravagant play by a woman dead set on getting what she wants. I’ve had more than my fair share of wannabes and lionesses dressed in sheep’s clothing. In general, I spot them a mile away.
What bothers me is that I didn’t spot it in Quinn.
She gives off none of those vibes, which makes me more suspicious rather than less. If she wants to play games, however, I’m up to the task.
It might be fun to string her along, promise her the world, then rip it out from under her feet. I’m bored enough to make it worth the effort, but cautious enough to remind myself of my motto. It’s served me well for too many years.
That’s when her slender figure draws my eye.
Nine
Hawke
Quinn stops at the entrance and peers inside; her motions are hesitant and unsure. She speaks with the hostess and I roll my shoulders back getting ready to begin our little dance.
Only instead of coming inside, she turns away.
What the fuck?
Now I have to chase her to get the games started. No way is that happening. I refuse to chase after a woman. Which means I’ll either spend the rest of my evening alone or do exactly that.
“Dammit.” I down my drink in one swallow. Before leaving, I pull the hostess to the side. A glance at her name tag helps. “Mira, the woman who just spoke to you…”
“Yes, Mr. Sterling?”
I don’t wear a name tag, but every employee knows me by sight.
“Where is she headed?”
“I’m not sure, sir.”
“What did she ask?” Pumping Mira for information might cause problems in the gossip chain, but fuck if I care right now.
“She wanted to know if there were any other places to eat.”
“And?”
“I told her the poolside bar was open.”
“Thank you.” I give her a small token of my gratitude and head off on the hunt.
Maybe the crowd in the restaurant chased her off, or the romantic ambience made her think twice about dining alone. I imagine it might be intimidating for a single woman to eat alone, especially in a place like this. Not that the pool bar is less crowded, but it might be easier to get served and escape to a quiet corner.
I spent six hours beside her on the plane. Most of that engrossed in my work while she slept. Right now, I wish I’d taken the time to get to know her a little better. It might help answer the question of whether I’m being played.
The poolside bar is hopping. Bright lights, loud music, and couples laughing all combine in one raucous mess of sound. The crowd here is younger, drunker, and much more lively than at the restaurant. I can’t imagine Quinn preferring this over the restaurant.
It takes questioning all three bartenders before I get anything useful.
“Yes, Mr. Sterling.” Juan wipes the bar absentmindedly. “She did come by.”
“And?”
“She headed over there.” He points across the pool where it’s
dark and quiet.
“Did she order anything?”
His brows draw together. “She looked at the menu, but then asked for a couple glasses of water and headed over to the grotto.”
Everything built at Euphoria is designed with couples in mind to maximize their experience. Our word of mouth advertising is so strong, we barely spend anything to market the resort.
There are places like the first bar I left, with the attached restaurant and its intimate atmosphere. There’s the pool bar, a crowded, loud space filled with music, dancing and a general party atmosphere. Then there’re places like the other side of the pool where the grotto begins. During the day, it’s a quiet refuge for couples needing some alone time. At night, it turns into an intimate retreat with dark, secluded alcoves, perfect for couples to get lost in themselves.
Why she didn’t stay at the pool bar confuses me. Now, I need to come up with an excuse to wander over there. Only people don’t wander by themselves at our resort.
Beyond the grotto lies the beach. The soft susurration of waves is easily my favorite sound on the planet. Combine that with a gentle breeze blowing off the ocean, the faintest tang of salt in the air, and a dark sky filled with stars, and this place is definitely one of the most romantic places on earth.
Turn around. Don’t do it.
The voice of reason tells me this is a bad idea, and I agree with it one hundred percent. Not that I do the smart thing and turn away. Instead, I shove my hands deep in my pockets and set out for the far side of the pool and the grottos beyond.
On the way there, I come up with about half a dozen witty things to say. Different ways of acting surprised that our paths once again cross. Only she’s not on any of the loungers on the far side of the pool, or in any of the dark alcoves of the intricate grotto designed for romance.
I run my fingers through my hair with frustration. She’s making me do things I never do with a woman. I never chase them, but I’m most definitely on the prowl for her.
Why is she different?
With no sign of her, I resign myself to look for her in the morning. One of the benefits of an all-inclusive resort is our guests stay on resort grounds. Somehow, somewhere, I will run into her.
I should get to bed, but the soft sound of the surf draws me toward the beach. Stopping at the edge of the concrete walk, I roll up my trousers and remove my shoes and socks. After stuffing my socks in my shoes, I put everything inside a locker and step onto the beach.
My toes sink in, curling with pleasure in the soft sand. No longer hot from baking under the sun, it’s cool and feels wonderful against the soles of my feet. A full moon shines down on the beach making the sand glisten and the crests of the waves glow. The light breeze coming off the ocean ruffles my hair and I take a moment to simply soak everything in. One deep soul-cleansing breath follows another. I love it here.
While it’s quicker to return to my bungalow via the many pathways meandering through the resort, I decide to take the longer way around and walk on the beach. I figure it’ll soothe my nerves.
All four of the honeymoon suites open directly onto a private beach. Each one set on a miniature man-made cove. They’re private for obvious reasons and are set well apart from the main buildings. Around the point, set even more apart, the two owner’s retreats take advantage of a truly private beach. If I could, I would make this my permanent residence, but my mother demands I attend to her back in the States.
One day I’ll be free.
I walk to the water’s edge. Cold beneath my feet, the wet sand oozes through my toes. The waves lap against the beach, a never-ending movement always in flux, yet always the same.
Hands in my pockets, I stare out into the inky blackness, then tilt my head to take in the full moon. Despite the moonlight, the constellations shine down and I trace out some of my favorites.
Moments like this sustain me. They make me believe I can do anything, be anyone, and live the life I want to live. It frees me from familial obligations and the noose my mother tightens around my neck with each passing year.
Her most recent ultimatum leaves me reeling, so much so that I’ve shoved it far back into my subconsciousness where I’ll deal with it later. Her impending death, on the other hand, makes me feel nothing.
Completely unreasonable, her demands make no sense and jeopardize Cherise’s well-being. Not to mention screws me out of my inheritance if I don’t comply.
I’ve got six months, less really. I either cave to her demands, or walk away from my wealth and condemn my twin sister to a state-run group home.
“Oh, it is you.” The light floral scent of jasmine and rose fills my senses and I turn at the familiar voice.
Quinn Hayes appears like a waif out of the mists. The wind and waves swallow the soft tread of her feet, and a wispy white dress billows around her slender form, revealing more than it hides.
My mouth gapes and I snap it closed before she notices. Between one breath and the next, my cock hardens. It wants her with an irrational hunger. I barely retain control over my own body when she’s near. Yet again, that’s never happened before.
“Well, if it isn’t my terrified seat-mate.” I play it aloof and distant, as if I couldn’t care if she were there. The opposite is true. Every molecule in my body vibrates with an awareness of her presence. “I told you we would survive.” My need to possess her overwhelms all thought and it’s a struggle to focus and remain aloof.
She ducks her head, then peeks up at me through her lashes. It’s seductive as shit, and on any other woman, I’d call it a well-practiced move designed to lure men in for the killing blow. On her, it’s entirely natural and I honestly believe she’s clueless about how fucking attractive she is to someone of the opposite sex.
“I guess we did. I…” She glances away to stare out across the ocean. “I owe you an apology and more than a little thank you. Dr. Conte told me what you did. I can’t thank you enough for…”
“Taking care of you?” I want to do far more than take care of her. It’s a possessive desire I’m struggling to understand.
Her magnetic eyes snap to mine. “I was going to say for not taking advantage of me, but yeah. Thank you for taking care of me. He says I wasn’t lucid, something about mixing alcohol with too much cold medicine. I’m thankful. There are too many men who would’ve taken advantage of the situation.”
“It seems you’ve been hanging out around the wrong men.” I desperately try to think about anything other than ripping that dress off her body and taking her right there on the beach. The urge to fuck has never been this strong. She’s turning me into a rutting animal.
Fuck. Claim. Take.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply…” She glances away and her voice drops to a mumble. “I kind of suck at apologies, but when I saw you standing here, then realized who you were, I had to say something. I really am grateful.” She glances away and turns her attention back to the surf.
“It’s unfortunate a woman needs to be concerned about that at all.” I’ll kill any man who even thinks to touch her like that. My possessive side rears its beastly head. She’s mine. No one else’s. “Fortunately, I’m not in the camp who would take advantage.”
Except, that’s exactly what I want. Not against her will. But most definitely to take advantage of her. I just want her. It’s an indescribable pull.
“No, I suppose you’re not. You’re one of the good guys and my hero. I don’t know what would’ve happened to me if you hadn’t helped me.”
The thoughts running through my head are far from pure and innocent. Good? I laugh at that. The things I want to do to her are far from good. They’re positively filthy.
The way she looks at me makes my body buzz. My nerves are in a full-on riot. My heart speeds up. My breaths quicken. And my greedy cock is primed and ready. It wants her with an irrational hunger.
It’s hard not to stare, and I force myself to look out over the water like she does.
“I’d love to
show my gratitude. Buy you a drink? Or dinner?” She turns her attention to me. “Um, that is, if it wouldn’t be awkward. I wouldn’t want to intrude.”
“Intrude?”
“I mean with whoever you’re with.” She sniffs and forces down a swallow. “I wouldn’t want to intrude on your vacation with your wife.”
“No wife.”
“Fiancée?” The way she glances at her ring finger gives me pause.
“No fiancée.”
“Oh.” She thinks I’m here with someone.
It’s the perfect lead in to figuring out why she’s here, what she wants from me, and what kind of game she’s playing.
“I’m actually here alone. No wife. No girlfriend. No fiancée. No one.”
“Alone?” Her forehead wrinkles.
“Alone, but there’s no need to thank me. I wouldn’t want your husband, fiancé, or boyfriend—well, you know—I wouldn’t want him to get the wrong idea.” I’ll leave her imagination to fill in that gap.
Her eyes widen, then she nibbles at her lower lip. “I’m actually not here with anyone either.” She lifts up her left hand and points at her bare ring finger. “This was a gift from my ex. He was my fiancé for all of an hour before he wasn’t.”
What the fuck did he do to her? My eyes pinch in victory. This is exactly where I want her to be. Time to turn the tables and begin our little game.
“I’m really sorry about that.” I shove my hands back in my pockets and make a slight adjustment to ease my straining cock. “We’re the only single people in this entire resort. I suppose that means a drink and dinner are in order?” I hold out my hand. “Shall we see what happens?”
It’s a risk. If she takes it, I’ll take her back to my bungalow, fuck her brains out until I work her out of my system, then I’ll walk away.
She takes a long, hard look at my hand. Just when I think she’ll reach out, she cups her hands beneath her chin and breaks down with a sob.
Shit.
Hawke: Christmas in Paradise (Billionaire Boys Club) Page 7