Tearing his attention from her lips, he let his gaze travel down in a leisurely appraisal of her fit, slender body and admired the way her red tank top molded to her breasts and flat stomach. White shorts rode low on hips made for a man to hold on tight, stopped high on her thighs, and left an amazing pair of legs exposed to the ankles where her feet disappeared into a pair of strappy sandals.
His heart rate climbed with his gaze when those sandals started to move, bringing her closer his way. He dragged his attention back to her face and saw when she skipped over him as she continued to scan the crowded bar for a couple of empty seats. There were two empty chairs at his table, but despite how taken he was with the auburn beauty, he hadn’t missed her friend or the haunted look deep in the blonde’s blue eyes. It didn’t take him long to determine that haunted look had been put there by a man. Each time the blonde passed a male patron too close, she flinched and barely spared the man a glance.
One damaged soul recognizes another.
Yeah, the blonde had been put through some kind of hell in her past. Alec could relate and, though he didn’t see any visible scars beyond a small one on the blonde’s right temple, he sensed the ones that ran deeper than the naked eye could detect even before she and the auburn beauty got close enough to hear him speak over the den of the music and conversation.
“You can have this table. I was just leaving.”
The blonde startled and glanced at him. The eye contact lasted only a nanosecond, but it was long enough for him to see her eyes widen slightly before she whipped her head back to the auburn beauty.
Alec doubted his speaking to them had been the only thing that had gotten him that reaction out of the blonde. He knew what he looked like. Her scars might be predominately on the inside, but the torture he’d endured from the Phay cartel had left him disfigured inside and out.
“Jennifer.” Alec read the blonde’s lips more than heard the name as she grabbed her friend’s arm.
Jennifer. Well, at least he had a name to go with the angelic face and dick-teasing body he knew he would be seeing in his dreams tonight.
The blonde jerked her head toward him when Jennifer’s gaze met hers. Then Jennifer was looking at him, really looking at him, and her milk chocolate eyes didn’t widen or fill with revulsion. If anything, he would’ve sworn he saw attraction swirling in their depths.
Yeah, like the whole beauty and the beast thing really happens outside of Disney.
Alec picked up his bottle of beer with his left hand, held her gaze while he downed the remainder, and saw her attention land on the stub that had once been his pinky finger as he replaced the bottle on the table and got to his feet. No revulsion. No fear. Instead, her gaze continued on, giving him a slow once-over that brought Disney to life clearer than any big screen and had more than his dick stirring. His blood pumped warm and fast through his extremities, making him feel more alive than he had in years.
He’d come to the island to heal, though. He’d come here hoping to sort out the memories of his life as Alec McIntyre he’d managed to recover from those of his life as Alec Veansa that still attempted to rule his personality and thoughts.
He hadn’t come to the island to find a woman and, as much as a night or ten with Jennifer appealed to him, he couldn’t let himself go there. He’d already attempted to numb the demons of his past as Veansa right along with the regrets of losing those from the life he’d led before as McIntyre in alcohol once. He still drank, but he kept to a set, safe limit now. Allowing himself to indulge in another addictive substance, oh, say, one like this gorgeous, sexy woman, wouldn’t be a smart move for what remained of his sanity.
“You could stay. There seems to be enough chairs for the three of us.”
“As things are meant to be on Silver Island.”
The new voice snagged Jennifer’s attention. For a few heartbeats, Alec wasn’t sure if he was grateful for Cerridwen Evans’s intrusion or not. He supposed he should be, especially when the woman launched into a quick explanation of how the island had been developed and designed to cater to the ménage lifestyle. It made being a single man a little awkward at times, but the open-minded and nonjudgmental community was what Alec had been looking for most when he’d sought a place to get his shit together without the ever watchful eyes of Adam Cooper and the rest of the agents in the bureau.
“I’m Cerrie,” Cerridwen introduced herself, using the nickname most of the islanders called her. “And you must be Jennifer and Lexie.”
Alec watched as Lexie’s eyes widened and Jennifer’s jaw dropped.
“Is this island full of psychics or something?”
Cerridwen laughed at Lexie’s question. “Ari is my sister. She’s not a psychic, but she does have this knack for knowing things about people.”
Knack was putting it mildly, but Alec decided not to put voice to the thought. Though he’d mostly kept to himself since coming to the island a few months ago, the grapevine was thick with “predictions” Arianrhod had made that had come true about many of the island’s residents. Thank God, she hadn’t made any predictions about him, at least not that he was aware of.
“She called to give me a heads-up after the two of you left the café and said that you,” Cerridwen went on as she fixed her gaze on Jennifer, “might be interested in a job while you’re on the island.”
“I might be.”
“Then I’ll get your drinks, make sure Amie can handle this crowd for a few minutes without me, and we’ll talk. What can I get for you?” Jennifer and Lexie placed their orders, and Cerridwen shifted her attention to Alec. “Do you want another beer? Since all the drinks are three for one. It’ll make it a full round for the table.”
Alec dug his wallet from the side pocket of his cargo shorts and pulled out a few bills to pay the tab. “Let the ladies decide on a drink to share.” He passed the money to Cerridwen. “That should be enough to cover everything. I need to go.”
He dared to take one last look at Jennifer and strode away before he could change his mind, regretting every step.
* * * *
“Do you want to take a walk on the beach before we head to the room?” Jennifer could see the lights from the resort illuminating the beach to her left as she stopped at the bottom of the stairs leading to the sand from Ménage a Drink. To her left stretched a longer spot of beach lit only by the moon and twinkling stars in the clear sky above. She found that view more appealing.
“It’s almost midnight,” Lexie informed her. “I think I’m going to the room. I told Arianrhod I would be at the café bright and early in the morning, but you don’t have to be back here until four tomorrow afternoon.”
“Are we crazy for accepting jobs when we’re supposed to be on vacation?”
Most people would think she certainly was for setting aside a master’s degree for something like tending bar. Not that she’d really set her primary career aside. Her job at Ménage a Drink was as temporary as her visit to the island. She and Lexie had booked the room at the resort for two weeks. A permanent move wasn’t in the cards for her the way it might possibly be for Lexie.
Lexie giggled. “Probably, but I’m not regretting it. Think about it, Jen. We’ve been on the island less than a day, and we’ve both been given the chance to do something we enjoy and get paid for it.” She clucked her tongue. “I don’t think it’s crazy. I think it’s fate.”
Since Jennifer was the psychologist major and being crazy wouldn’t bode well for her professional persona, she decided to go with that, although fate seemed like a really strong word to describe today’s events.
“You go for your walk. I’ll be in the room when you get there.”
Jennifer hesitated, knowing how much her friend hated to be alone after what she’d gone through. “We’ll go for a walk together another night.”
“Yes, we will, but tonight, you’re going alone, and I’m getting a head start on sleep.” When Jennifer opened her mouth to argue, Lexie gave her a stern look. “You, alo
ng with every other doctor and shrink I’ve seen, have been telling me I need to learn how to get passed my fears. We’re on an island, Jen.” She thrust her arms out at her sides and spun in a full circle. “This is paradise, not some spooky, creepy haunted house. I’ll be fine. Go.”
“You’re sure?” Lexie was really trying, and it was a good thing. Jennifer knew it was a good thing, but that didn’t stop her from being concerned by the seemingly one-eighty degree turn in her friend since they’d gotten to the island. Was it because Lexie really saw the place as paradise, or had something else prompted the change?
“Positive.” Lexie threw her arms around Jennifer’s shoulders, dragged her in for a tight hug, and gave her a loud smooch on the cheek. “Now, go!”
Jennifer started to tell Lexie to text her when she got to the room but decided it would be counterproductive. Lexie was the only one who could truly get past the fears she’d been living with since her abduction. Jennifer could continue to be supportive and always would, but right now, she knew she needed to give her friend space.
She went, casting quick glances over her shoulder as Lexie headed the opposite way down the beach. After a while, she stopped looking back, telling herself Lexie would be fine. She’d wanted this walk on the beach tonight and vowed to enjoy it.
Tipping her head back to gaze up at the stars, she did exactly that and felt an odd sense of belonging move over her. She had a balcony off her second-floor apartment in Waterston and spent many nights on it, leaning over the rail to stare at the stars, but it never felt quite like this. She stopped walking to close her eyes and listen to the sounds around her, the crash of the waves against the shore, the faint music and voices that traveled from Ménage a Drink, and the even fainter breeze that glided over her flesh.
She righted her head, shifted her weight from foot to foot to remove her sandals, and hooked them on one finger, feeling herself smile when her toes sank into the cooling sand beneath her feet. Maybe Lexie was right. Maybe this island was paradise. It certainly felt that way at the moment.
Her feet on the move again, she angled her path to the water’s edge, jolting when the first wave washed over them. Goose pimples leaped to the surface of her flesh as the chill of the contact spread through her. The next wave didn’t have the same effect as her body quickly adjusted. No, spending the late night hour on her balcony in Waterston had definitely never felt quite like this.
It had never looked like this either, she thought as she gazed out across the seemingly endless gulf. The beauty of the stars and moon glistening on the ripples of the surface nearly took her breath away. Moments later, that breath stuck in her throat when she gasped as she collided with a hard wall of muscle and heat.
“Oh, God. I’m sorry.” Mortified that, yes, she had really just walked straight into someone, the heat she’d felt settled in her cheeks first. Then, in the shimmering moonlight, she got a good look at who she’d plowed into and that heat scattered through the rest of her body.
“The view is better when you stop to look and take it all in.”
No doubt about it, Mr. Hot, Sexy, and Gorgeous, as she’d immediately dubbed him back at Ménage a Drink was right. She took a step back and did just as he’d suggested. She took in the view, every tall, deliciously broad, and intoxicatingly potent inch of him. She and Lexie had decided on another round after he’d paid for their first at the bar. Given that the drinks were served three for one, at an overly inflated price than most bars, of course, that had meant she and Lexie had ended up with three cocktails each. Still, she knew it wasn’t the alcohol she’d consumed that was suddenly making her feel all light-headed. It was this man and, oh, wow, what a man he was.
A lot of women would’ve found him more frightening looking than uber-hot. She was pretty sure Lexie had been one of them. Ebony hair, a little too long for Jennifer’s usual taste, teased the collar of his T-shirt that stretched over impressively broad shoulders and clung to a strong-looking torso. Cargo shorts hugged narrow hips and hung loose to the knees of a pair of sturdy legs. His eyes were dark, almost as black as his hair, and as cautious as they were mesmerizing.
He had scars, lots of them, and not just the absence of his left pinky finger that she’d noticed at the bar. Deep white lines were etched into his left cheek, one so pronounced it appeared to have cut to the bone. More scars marred his right eyebrow and the corner of his eye. Those looked as if someone had actually attempted, or at least threatened, to cut his eyeball out of its socket. There was a faint slash in the center of his chin that appeared to be older than the other marks and a shallow indention to the left of that mark where a small chunk of his flesh was actually missing.
There was only one kind of hell a man could endure that would such horrible marks behind. Torture. This man had been beaten, slashed, damaged in ways that would never fully heal. And yet, to her, the whole hot, sexy, and gorgeous name she’d given him fit. Someone might have once gotten the upper hand on him, but he had a sleek, muscled look about him that said he could kick some ass. She was willing to bet he had, too, and found herself wondering if the person or people who had given him those scars were still alive.
“I’m Jennifer.”
“I know.”
Right, he’d been there when Lexie and Cerridwen had said her name back at the bar. She’d had to force herself to pay attention and had found it even harder not to chase him down after he’d walked away and beg him to sit down for that extra drink with her and Lexie. Despite the scars, he was the kind of man that inspired fantasies and made a woman very, very aware that she was female. Especially when he looked at her like he had at the bar, like he was now, with interest and unadulterated desires mixing with the caution in his mesmerizing eyes.
“I didn’t get your name.”
Those eyes looked away from hers to stare at the seemingly endless sea. “I didn’t give it.”
Okay, the man wanted to be left alone. Except, she got the vibe he really didn’t, that he spent far too much time alone, too much time in his thoughts. Her heart clenched. He was so wounded, and not just on the outside. She had to squash the urge to touch him, to put a comforting hand on his broad shoulder. She wanted to do more. She wanted to move closer, lace both of her arms around his neck, and press her pliant curves against his harder muscles. Her nipples tightened with the desire and juices slickened her feminine lips. She’d only felt this instantaneous bodily reaction to a man once.
And she was so not going to think about Adam Cooper now.
“You’re wanting me to guess, aren’t you? Okay. Your name is Hercules.”
That got her an angled look complete with a lifted brow.
She pursed her lips to keep from smiling. “No? How about Zeus? Or Hermes? Or Poseidon?” When a hint of amusement shot through his eyes, she let the smile form. “I took a mythology class in college. I can keep going if you like.”
He shook his head and returned his gaze to the water. “What makes you think I’m any kind of a god?”
Jennifer decided telling him he looked like one was probably too forward of an answer. “I’ve met two women on this island today who were named after goddesses. I figured the trend might continue with you.”
“It doesn’t. I’m Alec.”
It suited him. It might not have been the name of a famous mythological god, but she did remember it from a part of the Greek mythology. If her memory served, the name meant defender of man, protector of mankind. Was that what he’d been doing before the gates of hell had closed on him, defending man and protecting mankind?
“Alec,” she repeated slowly. “That should be easy enough to remember.”
Chapter Two
Maybe for you.
Alec barely kept the words from spilling. They weren’t the truth anyway. Being Alec was the only constant he’d managed to hang on to. For the last two years, since being taken under Adam Cooper’s wing, he’d been getting glimpses into his past as McIntyre, flashes of memories of the man he’d been before, but
the memories that still took precedence were those of Veansa. During his time in Waterston he’d heard stories about McIntyre’s past, spent time with McIntyre’s oldest and closest friends, and, when the slivers of memories had started to come back, he’d realized he would far rather become that man again than he would to live the rest of his days as Veansa.
If only he could figure out how to become that man again.
“You were right. It is better when you stop to take it all in.”
That’s what he’d been trying to do since he’d come to Silver Island. Take it all in, come to terms with everything, remember what he could, and go on with whatever life came out of the process. He’d found peace on the island, plenty of time to think, and even more time to start to discover what made the man he was now tick. The water was one of those things. Living in a place where he was surrounded by it was even better. He’d expected to get bored, lonely. Veansa never would’ve thrived leading such a solitary life as the one Alec had been living on the island. As for McIntyre…Alec wasn’t so sure he would have either. Both of those men had fed on danger, even if they had done so in different ways.
Jennifer let the silence between them drone on for a few minutes before she broke it. “You look like you could use a friend tonight.”
Alec stared at her and saw the sympathy in her eyes as if she were looking into his soul and seeing all his confusion and torment. Fuck, he was a mess. When had he lost it? He knew he only remembered bits and pieces of his life as McIntyre before the Phay cartel had tortured him, left him for dead, and Boran Roumduol had nurtured him back to health, all the while brainwashing him into believing he was Veansa, but had he really had it together before then? According to the men and women in the bureau he had. What he’d yet to figure out was how the hell to get it back.
“I don’t suppose I can talk you into leaving the view and going for a walk with me.”
Safe and Assigned to Ecstasy [The Heroes of Silver Island 5] (Siren Publishing Ménage Everlasting) Page 3