Hawke: Christmas in Paradise (Billionaire Boys Club)

by Ellie Masters

  “Women use men all the time. Why should this be any different?” His words are not only acidic, they feel like a slap in the face. I spin back toward him, fingers curled into impotent fists.

  “Because, I’m. Not. Like. That.” I enunciate each word, my anger building. “I don’t use men, and I definitely don’t take advantage of them.”

  His eyelids pull so far back it looks like his eyes are going to pop out of his head. He holds up a hand. “Whoa, didn’t mean to strike a nerve. Just stating what I know.”

  “Then you’ve been hanging around the wrong women.” I can’t help it. Exhaustion pulls at me, mentally and physically. A hole would be a great place right about now. Somewhere I can slip inside and disappear from the world. “Look, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap…”

  His wide eyes go to the opposite extreme. He stares at me through narrow slits, assessing, appraising, and examining everything about me. It makes me feel like a bug under the microscope.

  “You really mean it don’t you?” He says it as if he shouldn’t believe me, but somehow does.

  I’m not sure if I count that as a win.

  “Mean what?” I take half a step up the beach, ready to put this night behind me.

  “About using men?”

  “Damn straight. I’ve worked too hard to get where I am. I’m not some right-winged feminist, but I stand on my own two feet. I don’t need a man to help with that.”

  “Never said you did.”

  “No, but you implied I used Scott for his money.”

  “Actually, I didn’t. You said you felt guilty for using his money, or rather coming here when he paid for it. I made a general comment about women, which agreed with what you said.”

  I want to be pissed at this man, but damn if it’s hard to keep my anger boiling. The truth is, I’m tired.

  “I think I should go to bed. Alone.” Not sure why I added that last part. It just slipped out.

  “Can I ask you a question?”

  “Sure.”

  “Why did you come here? If it’s not to spend his money to get back at him, then why? Whatever it was, it had to be something, considering your fear of flying.”

  “Because I wanted to disappear, and if I showed up at home, without Scott, there’d be a gazillion questions.”

  “A gazillion?” The smirk is back on his face. “That’s a pretty big number.”

  Heat rises to my cheeks. “Yeah, a gazillion, but if you knew my brothers, you’d understand.”

  “They sound like they love you very much. Maybe they can help you through this? Just because you’re here, doesn’t mean you have to stay. Decisions made in the heat of powerful emotions are seldom good ones.”

  “And get back on a plane?” My eyes widen and it feels as if the pit of my stomach drops to the center of the earth.

  “Unless you plan on swimming back, that’s the only way.”

  “Just kill me now.” A low groan escapes me.

  His laughter returns, and with it, his eyes shine. I could lose myself in those eyes if I don’t watch out.

  “Honestly,” I blow out my breath, “I was running. I wanted to disappear. And I wanted to get back at him. I’m guilty of that, but now I feel guilty for doing it.” I shake my head, not sure if I’m making sense. “This was the only place I had to go. We work together. It’s a small startup we’re trying to get off the ground. I’m the tech brains. He’s the businessman. He proposed at our office Christmas party, in front of everyone. Then cheated on me that same night. I can’t go back and face everyone after what he did. Fortunately, the office is closed until the new year. Everyone is off visiting their families.”

  “I don’t get why you didn’t go home.” The way he looks at me makes me feel like he really cares.

  Me? He cares about me? Talk about transference. I’m stupid enough to think a stranger really cares about me.

  “Because my family is intense. My brothers wouldn’t think twice about murdering Scott once they learn what he did to their little sister. That’s not an exaggeration.”

  “Scott’s the ex-fiancé?”

  “Yes, the cheating bastard.” I mumble the words.

  “You know, there’s no one here.” He gestures down the empty beach. “You don’t have to whisper.”

  I cock my head, confused.

  “Go ahead and scream. Gather all that pain and frustration and let it rip.”

  “Let it rip?”

  “You know, let it all loose. Frankly, he’s a jerk for doing what he did, and doesn’t deserve another moment of your time. All that anger, the pain, the hurt, and heartache…” He gestures toward the ocean. “Let it all out.”

  “You want me to scream at the ocean?” It’s my turn to think he’s the weirdo, but I wonder if it wouldn’t feel good?

  “Sounds like it might help. I’m sorry that douchebag treated you that way. Men can be dicks.”

  “And sometimes they can be incredibly kind.” I smile at him. “Thank you again for helping me.”

  “You’ve apologized and thanked me enough. How about we make a pact?”

  “A pact?”

  “No more apologies. No more thank yous. I want you to relax, take a breather, and enjoy time away from that jerk. And while you’re here, take advantage of everything Euphoria has to offer. Nobody here knows you. Step away from your life. Indulge a little. Eat. Drink. Sign up for all the activities. Pick one thing each day that challenges you. Let all that negativity disappear from your life. When you go back, you can face him with a new outlook on life, and you’ll know you can have the most amazing time without him.”

  “You make it seem so easy.”

  “Broken hearts are rough.” He glances down the beach. “How about that walk?”

  “Actually, I’m going to sit for a little bit, stare at the stars, maybe cry a little bit more, find a shooting star or two and make a wish. Then head to bed. It’s been a rough twenty-four hours.”

  “Mind if I keep you company?”

  “You sure about that? I haven’t made the best first impression.” I really don’t want him to go.

  “I’ll make allowances for your broken heart.”

  “Surprisingly, it doesn’t hurt as much as it should. I guess that should tell me something. I’m more upset at losing my best friend.”

  “Wait a minute.” He looks shocked. “Asshat cheated on you with your best friend?”

  “Right after he proposed.” I shake my head and hold my hand to my breastbone. It hurts. I’m amazed by how much it actually hurts.

  “Shit, that’s a low blow.” He takes my hand in his. Like before, a shock of electricity shoots up my arm. “You don’t deserve that.”

  “It is what it is.” I step back from the waterline and find a place to sit. When he touches me, weird feelings bubble up. I don’t know what to make of them.

  He follows, watching me closely. I’m going to have sand everywhere, but I don’t care. I blow out a breath and lean back to stare at the stars. The light of the moon dims the starlight, but I can still make out my favorite constellations.

  Hawke sits down beside me, then lies back. He’s close, really close, but doesn’t touch me. Instead, the heat of his body leaps across the space between us to sear my skin. The things I want from him aren’t civilized. I can’t explain it, except I sense he’s the one person powerful enough to shut off my brain and make me feel what it means, not to be feminine, but rather a female bending to the desires of the male who claims her. It’s so out of the world weird; I dismiss the odd thought.

  But my body is buzzing.

  Twelve

  Hawke

  I can’t figure Quinn Hayes out. She’s either completely oblivious as to who I am, or incredibly good at playing dumb. I’m smarter than this, but can’t help but fall under her spell.

  Raw and savage, real pain radiates from her. It slams into me, wave after wave, beating against my defenses until the urge to pull her into my arms and console her becomes unbearable. I
can’t escape this irrational feeling that she’s mine. That means her pain is my pain. I’ll bear it for her, if only to ease her trauma. I don’t even know her. Where is this coming from?

  But that’s the thing. I don’t comfort women. I use them. Mutual physical gratification. Those are the marching orders. I use them. They use me. I get what I want, and they get what they want.

  None of this makes sense. I’m no guardian protector. But I want her to lay her burdens at my feet. I want to soothe her pain and take her burdens from her.

  Three times, I reached out. Three times, she turned away.

  If I’m her goal, she’s playing her game of hard to get too well and risks losing me. I’m not a man who chases women. They come to me. Not that she didn’t let me touch her, but she didn’t react to the gentle tug I gave when I threaded my fingers with hers.

  Instead, she pulled back. Actually, it was more forceful than that. She jerked out of my grip, as if she’d been stung.

  Now, we lie beside each other. Less than an inch separates us, yet I’m acutely aware of every movement her body makes. From the way she digs her fingers into the sand beside me, swirling them around and around, to the way her chest rises and falls, I sense all of it.

  “I wish the moon wasn’t out.” Her soft, breathy sigh drifts on the wind.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Because it washes out the stars.”

  We’re alone, on a beach, beneath a moonlit sky. Why the fuck am I lying beside her instead of on top of her where I belong? Why aren’t my fingers threading through her auburn waves as I devour her mouth with a kiss? Why am I not buried deep inside of her? We should be naked, or on our way to getting naked, by now.

  Instead, we lie side by side, staring up at the moon.

  “I used to spend long nights outside staring up at the skies,” she says.

  I can’t see her face, but I feel her smile. This is a happy memory and I hang on her next words.

  “I did too. My sister loves it. She taught me all the constellations.”

  “You know the constellations?”

  “Most of them.” I point at the sky. “See those three bright stars lined up in a row?”

  “That’s Scorpio’s head.” She points at the sky, draws a line down. Her fingers trace the curve of Scorpio’s tail. “It’s one of my favorite constellations.”

  I roll to my side, because fuck it, I need to see her face. I prop myself up on my elbow and rest my head on my hand. “I suppose I should’ve known you’d know the stars, considering you’re a Trekkie.”

  “I used to be a Trekkie, at least until I realized all the laughter and jokes weren’t being made in fun, but rather about me. I learned early to hide my interests. If it wasn’t about dances or the homecoming game, I learned to keep things like that to myself.” She squints and a smile tugs at the corners of her lips.

  “It’s sad how mean kids can be to one another.”

  “I suppose, but after a while, it didn’t matter. It’s not like I had a bad experience. High school is difficult for everyone.”

  “I suppose.”

  It’s not hard for everyone. With my looks, and ample trust fund, I ruled my school. High school was one of the happiest times in my life. I fucked who I wanted. I was the quarterback on our football team. I brought home glory, only to be shown by my mother how none of that mattered.

  “Isn’t it funny how much high school defines us?” It certainly defined me. “It sticks with us for life.”

  “I bet it wasn’t rough for you.” She shifts away from me. A subtle movement, I’m certain it’s deliberate. For a woman trying to worm herself into my good graces, she’s doing it all wrong.

  “It wasn’t that rough if I’m being honest, but that doesn’t mean it was easy.”

  She scoots way back, alarming me for a moment, but I breathe easier when she rolls to her side, mirroring me, and props her head on her hand. She bites her lower lip, it’s both seductive and sweet.

  “I’m guessing you were in the popular crowd.”

  “Guilty.”

  “Lettered in sports.” Her eyes narrow. “Baseball or football? Am I close?”

  “Hitting it right on the head.” Her insight is spot on. It’s almost scary. “Both actually.”

  “Quarterback and homecoming king?”

  “Don’t forget pitcher for the varsity team. You make it sound bad.” I reach between us and draw a hashmark in the sand. “I was prom king as well as homecoming king.”

  “So, I’m not wrong.” She draws an X in the upper left row, middle spot.

  I love how she knew exactly what I was doing. It’s amazing how in sync we are. It’s like she’s attuned to my every thought.

  “No.” I reach out and draw a circle in the middle square.

  She places another X, left column, center spot. I stare at our game of tic-tac-toe, not really interested in the outcome. I just want to keep her talking. The sound of her voice draws me in and I hang on every word.

  I take my turn, placing an O in the lower corner. Her lips twist.

  “I win.”

  I glance at the game, not seeing it, but when she places an X in the corner opposite my O, I see she’s right.

  I brush over the sand, erasing the game.

  “How about we make this interesting?” I have ulterior motives.

  “How’s that?”

  “Best two out of three?”

  “And what does the winner get?” She sounds interested.

  “How about winner’s choice?”

  “I don’t understand?”

  “If you win, you decide what we do next and I’ll have to do it. No backing out. If I win, you do what I want.”

  “No backing out?” She curled her lower lip. “That sounds dangerous.”

  “That’s what makes it fun. The higher the stakes, the more challenging the game.”

  “What if it’s something I really don’t want to do?”

  “Like what?”

  “Like climbing inside a plane again.” Her delicate nose pinches. It’s fucking cute as hell.

  I can’t help but laugh. Here I’m thinking about demanding that kiss I want and she thinks I’ll make her get on a plane? She can’t be that clueless, but looking into her eyes, I’m beginning to think she really has no idea who I am.

  This is going to be so much fun, and not for the reasons I originally thought. It might be possible she’s the only woman on the planet who’s not interested in taking a piece of me.

  “Or jumping out of one.”

  Her eyes widen and she sucks in a breath.

  “Um no. Totally not that. You really want me to die? Climb in a perfectly good airplane only to jump out of it?”

  “So, you admit airplanes are good?” I laugh as her mouth gapes.

  “That’s not what I meant.”

  “I’m pretty sure you’ll be safe.” She’s completely unaware we have a seaplane. It’s used for our skydiving adventures, but I’ll never ask her to jump out of a plane. Flying is a real fear. I don’t agree with it, but I respect her fears.

  Actually, that might be fun. I’ll save that one for later.

  “I’m not okay with anything. How about we state the stakes upfront?”

  “So you know what you’re betting on?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Kind of ruins the surprise.” I really want to see her open herself up for a little bit of adventure. I have an irrational need to see her smile and enjoy herself.

  “Those are my terms.” She draws another tic-tac-toe grid in the sand. Her movements are sure and purposeful.

  “Well, since you have me at your mercy…” It’s fun to tease her. “I know what mine is going to be.”

  “What’s that?”

  I give a shake of my head. “Oh no, these are your rules, that means you go first.”

  There she goes again, biting her lower lip. “I saw a sign-up for ballroom dancing. I’ve never done that before and it’s not something you can d
o without a partner.”

  Ballroom dancing? What an absurd request, and she has no idea I’m quite proficient in all forms of ballroom dancing. It’s considered an essential skill according to my mother.

  In Mother’s world, businesses rise and fall on two battlefields. The first over a game of golf, where the men battle for dominance. According to my mother, the true war is waged on the dance floor, where a real tycoon goes for the jugular and seduces his opponent’s wife.

  “I think I can handle that.” If I lose this silly game, Quinn doesn’t realize she’s already lost the war. A few spins around the dance floor, she’ll be breathless and entranced.

  “And if you win?” She turns her amazing eyes toward me.

  “Oh, mine is simple, but maybe too much, considering we’re strangers.”

  Her eyes widen, waiting for me to continue. I almost expect her to jump in and say something, anxious about my response.

  But she remains deathly quiet.

  Quinn is a fucking natural at this game. She waits me out until I’m the one who breaks.

  “Don’t you want to know?”

  “I’m waiting for you to tell me. As long as it doesn’t require me getting on a plane, you can ask for the moon and I’d be good with it.”

  “Remember those are your words, because what I want comes at a terrible cost.”

  “Oh please, do tell. I’m dying to know.” She bats her lashes at me. It’s intentionally dramatic.

  I reach out and capture her hand, noting the moment her breathing stills. An electrical charge buzzes between us, full of potency and promise. There’s no denying our attraction. Not now.

  “Easy. I want one kiss.”

  “You want a kiss?”

  “Not just any kiss. I want you wrapped in my arms, our lips pressed together, it begins and ends when I say.”

  She blinks and there’s the slightest hitch in her breathing. The way she licks her lips, almost as if she imagines what kissing me might feel like, tells me she’s on board.

  “That’s… Um.” She swallows thickly. “A kiss?”

  I nod.

  “You want to kiss me?” Her eyes widen and she pulls her hand out from under mine. Shifting in the sand, she drapes an arm over her forehead. “I’m the last person a man like you wants to kiss.”