Craving Forbidden (Craving Series Book 8)

by Crave Publishing

  His burner phone rang. Picking it up, he checked the missed calls. Seventeen to be exact, all from his brother Robby. Leave me alone. Roberto. He chucked the cell against the wall. Oops, hope that wasn’t important. With that many calls, it could’ve been a warning Kilpatrick’s goons had found them. They could kill him, for all he cared right now. He’d rather think about anything else, like the girl down at the beach. Yeah. Man, she was lovely. Which wasn’t a word he ever used except that’s what she was.

  Daisy

  Daisy shut her small laptop after checking in with her contact and shoved it into her beach bag. She told him nothing though. For two weeks, she had been tracking and watching Earl Pirelli—hired…forced—by Johnny Kilpatrick’s goons to find him. She hated Kilpatrick, he was the scum of the underworld.

  The last image of Earl stayed with her all night. Helping him off the beach had been her only interaction with him. His vulnerability surprised her. The man thought he was old enough to be her father. What made him say that? Funny, she hadn’t been aware of chatting him up. The ill-timed comment made her laugh, though. She also suspected he had a death wish, which made her sick to her stomach. Did he want to die? Leaving himself unarmed and out in the open like a target was a sure way to get killed.

  She spread her towel out on the sand, positioning it so she could get a direct view of the bar he visited every day.

  Waves crashed into the shoreline. A family of three played in the surf, laughing and splashing each other. Seagulls chased a little girl tossing popcorn in her wake. The young thing’s parents calling her back to their blanket.

  Daisy’s stomach growled. She hadn’t eaten anything since last night. Grabbing her towel and satchel, she went up to the bar and ordered a ham and cheese sandwich. After draping her towel over a stool, she sat. Earl hadn’t shown up yet. Daisy didn’t need to watch him anymore. So why was she here? This hesitation to pull the trigger made no sense. Her job was done. A simple phone call and he’d be dead. Did she need justification for her actions? She had no idea why they wanted Earl in a body bag and needed to know the reason before sending an innocent man to his death. Okay, he was hardly innocent, but neither was she.

  The bartender returned from placing her order, setting a glass of ice water in front of her. “Thank you.”

  “Just how you like it, on the rocks.” He winked.

  “You’re so good to me. I may have to give you a kiss.”

  The bartender leaned over, tapping his cheek. She stood on the footrest and kissed him. Now, he was what she considered old enough to be her father. The man who claimed he was last night didn’t look anything like a dad. Earl was lean, muscled, with only a hint of gray hair in his four-day beard. Yes, she’d counted the days since she last saw his face clean-shaven.

  A waitress came over and placed her food on the bar. “Here you go, hon.”

  “Thanks.”

  Daisy ate everything on her plate and considered licking off the crumbs too. She pushed it back from the edge then sipped her water. As she swiveled on the stool to take in the setting sun, her eye caught the man she had waited for at the end of the bar. Her cheeks heated. She fanned her face. “You are gorgeous,” she whispered to herself. And so lonely, the emotion was palpable.

  Earl swirled the ice on the bottom of his glass, looking at it. He had also shaved. To get his attention, Daisy placed her utensils on the plate, clanking them as loudly as possible. His head snapped in her direction. “Hey, I know you,” she said.

  “Yeah, isn’t that sumthin,” he grumbled.

  Okay, maybe she didn’t find him that attractive. Embarrassed, she stared at her glass. She put her elbow on the bar and rested her cheek on her hand.

  “Wanna refill?” the bartender asked her.

  “No, I’m gonna go. How much do I owe—”

  “On the house. See you later.”

  “Bye,” she whispered. Normally, she’d argue with him about paying, but not tonight. She slinked away from the bar, knocking the stool over as she dragged the towel from it. For a moment all she could do was look at the stool on the ground, wondering why the thing wanted to add to her embarrassment by falling over.

  “That wasn’t nice, was it?” Earl said, startling her.

  “No. It certainly wasn’t,” she said. “Especially since I was trying to get away from you without further humiliation.”

  He pulled his head back. “Are you saying I humiliated you?”

  “No…kinda.” She bit her bottom lip.

  The man came over and set the stool upright. He pressed his lips together in a tight smile. “I didn’t mean—I appreciate what you did for ahh…”

  “Helping you off the beach?”

  He nodded.

  “How’s your foot?”

  “I’ll live.”

  They looked at each for an awkward moment. Daisy had no idea what to say or do. A rush of warmth flooded her body. Should she leave, stay, or ask him…

  “Do you often help out strangers lying on the beach bleeding or is this something new for you?” he asked, keeping his eyes focused on hers.

  “Ah, no, you’re my first.” She swallowed hard.

  “Oh, yeah?” A grin spread across his face. “I’m your first, huh?”

  “Yep, my first.” Oh, lord, the way he looked at her—a layer of perspiration broke out all over her body.

  “How old are you?”

  “You’re not old enough to my father.”

  Pursing his lips, he tilted his head. “Okay.” He chuckled. “What’s your name and how old are you really?”

  “You have to tell me yours too. But it’s Daisy and I’m twenty-three.”

  “All right. Remember, you asked for it. Elmo and—are you sure you’re ready to know how old I am?”

  Is Elmo his real name or an alias? Daisy suppressed a giggle. She nodded. “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Forty-five.”

  Okay, so he was old enough to be her father. But he wasn’t as old as her dad. Elmo certainly didn’t look forty-five. Although, he did have tiny crow’s feet when he smiled, and a bit of gray in his stubble. A couple of creases in his forehead. He reminded her of a darker haired David Beckham.

  “Not what you were expecting?” he asked.

  “Forty-five’s not that old, and besides, my father is older, and you look like David Beckham.” His eyebrows raised. “He played football.”

  “I know who David Beckham is.”

  “Well, then you know he’s well fit.” What in the world was she on about?

  “By well fit, I assume you mean he’s good looking.”

  “You’re American, of course. Yes, good looking. Sorry.” She put her hand to her forehead.

  “No reason to be sorry. Listen, I don’t gotta lot of time to—”

  “Oh, sorry, I don’t mean to hold you up.”

  He ran his fingers through his hair. “You’re not. I just don’t know how much time left I have on this island.”

  “Are you on vacation?”

  “No.”

  He didn’t know how much time he had left. God, had he made her? “I don’t have much time, either.” And she probably didn’t if she didn’t make the call. Her intuition screamed at her to get away from this man. He’s on to you. But her feet remained fastened to the ground.

  “I have a meeting with someone,” he said. “So, I’ll see’ya.”

  Elmo departed, leaving her standing next to the bar, staring at the empty place he vacated.

  Chapter Two

  Earl

  Dragging himself away from Daisy sucked ass. For one, she was a beauty, and two, her accent stirred his libido. He hadn’t lied. Earl didn’t know how much time he had left, except not on the island, but the planet. It was better for her that he walked away now.

  He knocked twice on the door of the house his brothers, Robby and Mitchell, shared with their girlfriends. “Who is it?” Robby asked.

  “It’s me, asshole, open the door.”

  The door o
pened a crack and his brother’s face flashed in the narrow gap. Robby stepped aside, and Earl pushed the door wide. Without saying a word, he handed Robby a slip of paper with his new phone number on it.

  “What’s this?”

  “New number. Killed the last phone.”

  “How many are you going to go through?”

  “What’s the problem? They’re cheap pieces of shit, anyway.”

  “We’re about to sit down and eat if you’re hungry,” Mitchell said, setting a platter on the dining table.

  The women came through the kitchen doorway carrying a large salad bowl and a bottle of wine. “Oh, hi,” Miranda said. “Joining us for dinner?”

  “No, thanks.” Earl glowered at her. He wasn’t sure he trusted her this soon after her shooting him. He rubbed the scar on his gut through his shirt.

  “How many times do I have to apologize?”

  “I dunno, but I’ll let you know when it’s enough.”

  Robby sighed heavily behind him. “You can leave if you’re not staying to eat.”

  “What’s your problem, she didn’t shoot you?”

  “I don’t like you disrespecting her, that’s what my problem is, Elmo.”

  Earl snorted. His brother called him by his real name, hoping to irritate him. Instead, he smiled and excused himself. The Muppet name wasn’t so bad…hell, he told Daisy his birth name. And she hadn’t even laughed in his face. Perhaps that was something only women back home did. He’d picked some winners to date.

  Back at his villa, Earl relaxed on the deck overlooking the ocean. He propped the French doors open. The sun set an hour ago. Strong breezes off the water blew the sheer curtains framing the doorway around. How fucking romantic. Leaning the wooden chaise lounge chair further back, he closed his eyes. Yeah, it was incredibly dumb leaving an open invitation for Kilpatrick’s enforcers to kill him, if they showed their ugly mugs here.

  Something about this island soothed him in a way the city never could. Earl was so far away from where he was from, the crimes he’d committed, and the father who had disowned him. Not that he blamed the man. At one time, he had wanted Mitchell dead along with his brother’s mother. And for no other reason than jealousy. What an ass clown. Fortunately, Mitchell forgave him and Robby. In a bizarre way, the three of them needed each other. At least, Earl needed them.

  Daisy

  Okay, now she was stalking him. Daisy walked along the row of beachside villas, peering through open doors and windows. She stayed at the bar long after Elmo left. Thirty minutes ago, he passed by the bar, disappearing down the beach toward the vacation rental villas where he stayed.

  She darted from palm tree to palm tree lining the path in front of the villas in the dark. He rented the last one that butted up to some woods. Peering around the trunk, she found Elmo asleep on a lounger on the patio with the doors wide open. Light from inside the house highlighted his handsome features. Why was she so curious about him? She’d built him up like a fairytale prince, even though she had no reason to believe he’d swoop down and carry her away to a far-off land where they would live happily ever after. She was out of her damn mind. He was dead. And if she didn’t give Kilpatrick’s men something tangible soon, she’d be lying next to him in a shallow grave. She hadn’t given them her location, though. Not that they hadn’t found out from her IP address already.

  The chair he was lying on creaked as he stirred. She pulled her head back and stood sideways behind the palm tree. Crap. Daisy held her breath, afraid of making too much noise. She dared a glance at him again. The lounger was empty.

  Uh!

  A warm hand clamped over her mouth and an arm went around her waist from behind.

  Chapter Three

  Daisy

  “Don’t move,” Elmo growled in her ear, yanking her backward so she was pressed against his body. “Who are you?”

  “No one,” she said, but with his hand covering her mouth the words sounded muffled. Her heart pounded.

  “I don’t believe you.” Elmo marched her into the villa and sat her in the living room chair. “Stay put.” He closed and locked the doors, then sat on the ottoman parked in front of her.

  “I’m going to ask you again. Who are you? And don’t lie to me, because I’m not in the mood for bullshit.”

  “Daisy. I wasn’t lying about that.”

  “Why are you sneaking around in the dark?” He narrowed his stare. “Who’s paying you?”

  “No one. I was curious about you.” Well, that was half true.

  “You expect me to believe that?”

  “Y-Yes. It’s the truth.” She buried her face in her hands.

  “What’s the job?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I was worried about you.”

  He exhaled and glanced at the ceiling. “Have you told them anything?”

  “Told who what?”

  “Where I am. Kilpatrick’s men. How long have you been watching me?”

  “I haven’t been watching you, I swear it. I came by to tell you that you left your flip-flops at the bar.” She said the first thing that popped into her head.

  “Okay, so you thought sneaking up on me at night to tell me this was a good idea?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Well, all right, you’re here now, so give me the shoes.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “Um…”

  “You don’t have them, do you? What’s the real reason you’re here?” Elmo smoothed his hair back with his fingers, groaning under his breath. He mumbled something that sounded like why did you have to be so beautiful?

  “What did you say?”

  “My father always told me a beautiful woman would lead to my death one day.”

  He thinks I’m beautiful? This was probably not the most important part of that sentence. Except it was all she was focusing on at the moment.

  “So why are you here if it’s not the shoes or a job?”

  What was she supposed to say? Hey, I just wanted to know more about you before I signed your death certificate. Not stalking you or anything. “I forgot them?” she eked out.

  “Is that a question?”

  “No?” She squirmed in her seat.

  He snort-chuckled without humor. “Your cover story isn’t well thought out, is it?”

  “It’s not a story, I swea—”

  “Yeah, I got it, you swear. Listen, can you at least give me a head start?”

  “I’m telling you the truth on my mother’s life.” Okay, blatant lie. Sorry, Mom. Her mother passed away two years ago.

  “Well, in that case…how long she been dead?”

  “She’s not. I wanted to see you, all right?”

  “Why? What turned you on, was it my excessive drinking?”

  Daisy smiled. “You’re not drunk now. I thought you looked sad when I found you on the beach and I wondered why. Maybe I can cheer—”

  “Believe me, Daisy, I’m not someone you need to be cheering up. You don’t know me.” He rubbed the back of his neck and left shoulder.

  “I can help you with that.” She stood and inched out from between the chair and ottoman.

  “Hey. What’re you doing?” His body tensed when she placed her hands on his shoulders from behind and started massaging. “Oh, God, that feels…” he breathed. He grabbed one of her wrists. “This isn’t a good—”

  “Shhh. It’s only a massage.” What was she doing? There were a million reasons why this was a bad idea. In fact, she couldn’t think of one good reason it wasn’t. If she lay with him one or both of them would end up shot in the head. And she wasn’t so sure if she would die by his hand or one of Kilpatrick’s goons.

  He relaxed under hands and released her wrist.

  Earl

  Oh, God was right. Earl let his head fall forward. He still didn’t trust Daisy. However, if he was going to be assassinated tonight, he could at least die without the giant knot between his shoulder blades he’d been rocking for years.

 
He inhaled deeply, catching the light cocoa butter scent on her skin. Images of her applying lotion on her naked body after a hot shower filled his mind. He could even see the steam rolling out of the tub and the fogged over mirrors of the imaginary bathroom he conjured. Her fingers worked his aching muscles. The ottoman depressed where she placed her knee. She pressed against his back.

  “Is this okay?” she whispered.

  Earl nodded because he didn’t trust his voice not to crack. Blood and all good sense drained from his head and he hardened. Reaching behind him, he ran his hands over her ass. His breaths became ragged and he opened his mouth.

  She gasped quietly and ran her hands down his chest until her cheek rested next to his. He sucked in a breath when her fingertips teased his waistband. “Daisy…bad idea.” Normally, he didn’t call women by their names, too personal, but he liked saying her name. She was soft and delicate like the petals of a flower.

  “What is, massages?”

  “I’m not the man for you. I suck at life.”

  “How does one suck at life?”

  God, if she said suck again he was going to pull her into his lap. “I’ve done…” Man, how could he put this without scaring her? “Unpleasant things I can’t take back or make amends for.”

  “Do you feel bad about them?”

  “Sometimes.”

  “What about the other—”

  “I’d rather not think about those things.” He took her hand and led her around the ottoman. You should go, he thought, but the words never made it out of his mouth. Instead, he focused on her exposed midriff. A crystal heart dangled from a belly button piercing. “Did that hurt?”