[Invitation to Eden 20.0] The Island of Eden

by Lauren Hawkeye

It’s not my most noble trait, but the dominance I command when I’m fucking a willing woman? It’s my way of taking back control. I have to do it.

  A hardheaded, pushy, nosy reporter who won’t be controlled? No. Just no. I shake my head. Unbelievable. Some nosy woman whose business is to dig into mine. What am I supposed to keep her occupied with until I can get her off the island, or until the island finishes its game?

  For the first time in memory, I’m at a loss. But I am nothing if not good at keeping my secrets. This relaxes me a bit, and, rolling my shoulders, I slip on my shoes.

  “Good luck to you, Ms. Davis. But I am Master here.”

  I step back onto the path and walk, sloshing in my shoes with each step, back to the castle to finish my rounds for the day. I refuse to be distracted by this woman who has washed up on my shore, nor by the crushing disappointment that comes with the knowledge that she is not who I expected or wanted her to be.

  I have my island. My sanctuary. And it looks like that will have to be enough.

  Chapter Four

  NOELLE

  This island is unreal.

  Right now I’m standing just below a stone manor perched on a cliff with a breathtaking view of a genuine, ancient Irish castle. Like... from Europe. But on a tropical island. The wild contrast delights me.

  I follow my guide into... wow. There’s not much that takes me by surprise in life, but this... holy shit.

  My parents are wealthy, and I grew up in a mansion. But compared to the luxury of just this greenhouse, which seems to be constructed of nothing but glass and is full of lush blooms?

  Next to it, the mansion of my childhood could have come straight from Ikea. I’m... awed. Something I never, ever am.

  Dani, however... Dani is a going to be a tough nut to crack. At first glance, she’s casual, easy going. Very girl next door, if you ignore the shadows in her eyes.

  But I’ve been with her for half an hour now, and I’m quite certain that she never smiles. Like, ever. I’m not sure she’s capable of it.

  Or else she really, really doesn’t like me. I suppose that’s a possibility. I like the other option better.

  Still, as I follow her around, I do my best to engage her in conversation. I’m puzzled that I’m striking out, to be honest. The real me? I’m as abrasive as they come. But when I want something? I can be whoever I need to be.

  “How long have you been working here?” Peeling my wet jacket over my head, I aim for casual. Something that won’t have this overprotective girl from knifing me in my sleep.

  “Nope.” She looks away, and I get it. She, and probably all of the other employees, are fiercely protective of their employer. That, or she has the hots for him, which I wouldn’t be able to blame her for.

  In pictures, the man was hot.

  In person?

  Daaaamn.

  “Do you like it?” I peer out one of the greenhouse windows.

  Finally a smile—a sarcastic one. “Obviously.”

  I’ll take your sarcasm, be-yotch. Take it and up it. “What do you like about it?”

  Dani shoots me a look that says really? before silently gesturing to the ocean view out the window. I hadn’t expected to be impressed yet again, because I’ve been to every tropical locale that there is, but... wow.

  It’s stunning. Stunning enough that my way with words has flown the coop. And I like how it smells. Of sea and sand and sun.

  Though I suppose that could just be me, drenched as I still am with what feels like half of the ocean.

  I still can’t believe I survived. I thought for sure I was a goner when that last tsunami-sized wave came for me. I’d been foolish letting go like that. In retrospect, it was terrifying. Despite me making it in one virtually unscathed piece, I shouldn’t have. It was a miracle. Not that I believe in that stuff.

  “What’s Mr. Vardalos like to work for?” I’m more than curious about the man who runs this place.

  Dani narrows her eyes. “He’s a beast. A tyrant. Worst human alive. In fact, you should probably run while you can.”

  “A-ha-ha.” Despite my usual alligator thick skin, though, I’m a little bit stung by her insistent and obvious dislike of me.

  Not so much because I care what she thinks of me. More because... for reasons I don’t quite understand, I’m jealous of the fact that she—that all of the employees here—know him in a way that I likely never will.

  And that’s stupid. Not only should I not be calling him Master in my head, because that’s ridiculous, but I have absolutely no reason to be jealous. No matter how tight of an ass he has.

  Dani leads me outside again. She stops on the fifth stone stair leading up a cliff. There’s a little stone gazebo area with a bench. “Wait here. Do not move. Do not touch things that do not belong to you. Understand?”

  “Is everyone who works here as sweet as you?” I bat my eyelashes at her. She regards me stonily before turning and going back down the stairs, probably back to the castle. Or maybe to soak her head. I don’t really care.

  I remain standing just long enough to satisfy myself that I’ve flaunted her order, then sit on the bench, even though I am restless enough to keep pacing around. I don’t want him to find me agitated—I want him to think that I am one cool customer. That he hasn’t gotten under my skin.

  That I don’t find him strangely alluring.

  I cross then uncross my legs. I lean back, then come forward and settle my elbows on my knees. Except I don’t like how that makes my belly bulge just a bit too much. Damn cool ranch Doritos.

  So I sit up straight, and force my shoulders back. Yes. This makes my boobs look perkier than they are. I run a hand through my hair, forgetting that it is still a wet tangled mess.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake.” Growling to myself, I slump back, giving up. It doesn’t matter what I look like. The man had me brought here so that he could keep an eye on me while he waits for me to be escorted off the island. There’s nothing between us, not that I want there to be. Not really.

  Eyes on the prize, Davis. I’m here for the story that could make my career. Not to get laid.

  As I sigh, I hear a soft chuckle. Opening my eyes, to find him sitting on the other end of the bench, and despite my best efforts, I’m startled.

  He’s watching me with those eyes, eyes that his coloring indicates should be obsidian dark and instead are the color of the ocean that almost drowned me.

  He’s wearing a mask now, which fits with the report I got from the woman at the club, though I wonder why he does it. He doesn’t look much like the decade old pictures I’d found of him anymore, true, but to my mind he looks better.

  His face is handsome and interesting now. And... well, sexy. I can’t quite put my finger on one specific reason why, but this man just does it for me in every conceivable way.

  “You move quietly for such a big guy.” I force myself to smile, even though my heart is fluttering, both from the surprise and from the proximity.

  “It’s all the boxing I did when I was a teenager.” He gets into a boxer’s stance and shuffles his feet back and forth. I blink, a wry smile curving my lips.

  I don’t know what, exactly, I expected from the man. Someone more formal, maybe. More dignified.

  He charms me despite myself. “You look a bit like a wrestler instead of a boxer with that mask on.”

  He lowers his arms, and I bite my tongue, knowing I’ve said the wrong thing. He’s back on guard.

  “Why do you wear it?” I’m not being nosy. At least, not to me. I’ve always asked a lot of questions—but I ask them because I genuinely want to know the answers.

  “If you follow me, Ms. Davis, I will get you set up in a room, so you can change. You look like a drowned cat.”

  “You sweet talker, you.” Gone is the charming host. In his place is the Master of the Island.

  Standing, I grab my bag, which he takes from me before I can protest. Scowling, I follow him up more stone steps. I fully admit to watching his ass as he
mounts each step. I can’t help it—it’s stellar. And those large arms—strong enough to lift even a woman of my size against the wall for a good hard...

  I clench my hand into a fist, angry at myself for fantasizing about this man while in his presence. I am usually strictly a fantasize-at-night-alone-in-my-bed kind of girl. But there is something about the man that makes me a bit giddy. If I was alone I’d slap my cheek and tell myself to pull it together. Instead I continue to watch his butt all the way to the top of the cliff where the coolest looking estate is perched.

  It’s all glass, stonework and dark wood. A mixture of old world and new. It has sharp angles, but I can see some soft round shapes in the window treatments. I’ve never seen another house like it. Not even in the most affluent areas of Miami.

  “This is my home.” There’s a keypad alongside the door and he punches in a code. There’s a click, then the door automatically opens.

  “Sweet.” I follow him inside. I think he chuckles, but his voice is so deep that I’m not quite sure.

  The manor is even more spectacular on the inside. A marble foyer leads to a winding staircase. The rest of the house has cherry wood floors. Black and white leather furniture fills each room, and each floor to ceiling window fully opens to the air. I take it all in while trying to keep my mouth shut. I want to squeal at how unique and full of character everything is, but I don’t want him to know how impressed I am with this place... and with him.

  “Quite the crib you have here,” I say, as I spin around the living room. “The ladies must drop their panties as soon as they step inside.”

  “Are you always this uncouth?” I listen for the derision in his voice, but hear none.

  “Uncouth. I’ve never heard that word used in actual conversation before.” I raise my eyebrows at him. “And yeah, pretty much.”

  I feel a small pang at this, that maybe that’s not the kind of woman he’s interested in. And then I give myself a mental slap upside the head. There’s nothing between us, so it doesn’t matter. And even if there was maybe, possibly some little spark...

  I don’t change for men. I only change for me.

  He—what the hell do I call him, anyway?—rolls his eyes. I wince again, kicking myself for being so crude.

  There’s staying true to myself, and then there’s being an ass.

  It’s a defense mechanism I use when I’m in an uncomfortable situation... I deflect with crude comments. It’s stupid, I know, but sometimes I can’t help it. Mr. Vardalos... oh, to hell with it, I’m calling him Theo... is making me very uncomfortable.

  On another note entirely, my panties feel really tight right now. I am hoping it’s just because they are still wet from nearly drowning in the ocean and not because I want to tear them off and throw them at him in adoration, like a groupie at a rock concert.

  He gestures to the staircase. “The room you will stay in is upstairs.”

  Well, apparently now I’m staying. This is progress.

  “How many rooms are there in this place?”

  He pauses, eyes me blankly. “A lot.”

  I snort. Damn it, with manners like this, I must seem like I was raised in a barn, rather than in high society. But when he turns to look at me, I think he’s smiling again under the mask.

  He leads me up a set of stairs built of very old looking stone, and to a heavy wooden door, which he pushes open. I step inside into the biggest, brightest bedroom I’ve ever seen. The windows are open; the air is warm and fragrant. The bed is huge, covered with a jewel-toned quilt, and there are lilies on every surface.

  I melt a little. Lilies are my favorite flowers.

  “Oh wow.” I move further into the room. There is a dark blue lily on a table near the open window, the soft petals the exact hue of my favorite color. Which... isn’t possible. There’s no such thing.

  I’m drawn to it, and gently caress the petals with my fingers. “Beautiful. How is it this color?”

  “You like flowers?” For some reason, the answer to this seems important to him.

  I consider replying with my usual bravado, but instead answer from the heart. “I love flowers. All of them. There’s a greenhouse in the house I grew up in and when I was little, my mom would take me in there, show me how to grow things.”

  “She doesn’t anymore?” Theo’s voice is gentle, as if he already knows the answer. Still, the expected pang slices through my heart.

  “No, she died, three years ago.” I shake my head.

  “I’m very sorry, Noelle.”

  Something inside of me quivers, hearing my name on his lips. I... like it. Far more than I should.

  I look at him, see something in his eyes that softens me further. “Thanks.”

  Then I blink, and the moment is gone. His eyes regard me impassively. The change is startling.

  “You will find everything you need here. The bathroom is fully stocked with all the essentials.”

  “What about my clothes?” I look down at my sodden jeans, suddenly desperate to be rid of them.

  “I’ll have your clothing laundered. In the meantime, I’ll have something suitable delivered for you to wear.” He moves to the door. “There will be something here waiting for you when you are finished showering.”

  Well. La-di-da.

  “Theo?”

  He sets my bag down, then turns to look at me before leaving, and the expression on his face tells me he’s not sure if he likes what I’ve just called him. Well, too bad. I will never call him Master.

  “Thank you for your hospitality, but just so you know, it won’t stop me from asking questions about you.”

  “You are free to ask whatever you want. It does not mean you will get the answers you are looking for.” There’s challenge in his smile and then he’s out the door, shutting it behind him.

  I can’t hold back the grin. I may not want a Master, but men who let me push them around don’t do much for me, either. Being challenged? It gets to me in a big way.

  I wander into the adjacent bathroom. My eyes widen at the giant soaker tub. Oh, hell yes! Even my fancy apartment in Miami doesn’t have one of these. I might as well take advantage of the facilities. It would be downright rude not to, so I twist the taps until lovely steaming water comes spilling out—I’ve been too occupied to realize how cold I am, down to the bone.

  Snooping through the cupboards yields bubble bath scented with, yes, lilies. It makes me smile as I pour a couple capfuls in and start peeling off my clothing.

  “Oh Lord,” I groan as I sink into the hot, sweet smelling water. Once I am submerged to my chin, I close my eyes and rest my head against the back.

  Wallowing for a minute is amazing. A treat after almost, you know, dying. But I need to organize my game plan to get the goods on Theo, aka Master of all. He’s a man with plenty of wealth and power, and experience tells me that, because of that, there have to be some nasty little secrets under all that manly charm and gloss.

  No one is as virtuous as he seems—case in point, his sexy-time visits to BDSM clubs. But that’s not his secret, I’m sure of it. He’s got something else, something that put some shadows in his eyes, and I’m going to find out what it is.

  And then? Then I’m going to write the best expose on this place and my father is going to beg me to stay on at the magazine. Which I won’t do. No, I’ll go someplace that will appreciate me.

  Though hopefully he’ll forgive me for losing his boat.

  The thought of spilling the secrets that this man so clearly wants to keep hidden gives me a momentary pang, but I push it back. I’ve made no secret of what I’m doing here, after all. It’s not like I’m lying.

  Once I’m done the heavenly bath, I wrap myself up in a fluffy white robe, pull my hair back since there’s no getting a comb through that nest without a deep conditioning treatment, then go out into the bedroom.

  There’s a dress laid out on the bed. At least, I think it’s a dress. It might be a nightie, it’s so skimpy, with spaghetti straps and
a low neckline and a high hem.

  So that’s the way it’s going to be, huh?

  He probably thinks I’ll refuse to wear it.

  I’ll show him.

  I pick up the dress/ lingerie, expecting it to be a size two or four and way too small for me, but it’s a size fourteen and perfect. Hmm. I need a lot of room for these boobs and butt of mine. I’m a curvy girl and proud of it, but I’m surprised he noticed.

  I shimmy into the slip dress and adjust my boobs. For a moment I feel panicked at the thought of going anywhere in this—it’s so skimpy and he neglected to provide any underpants. But I’m not backing down from this challenge.

  Plus, looking in the mirror... I might not be a stick figure, but I look pretty damn good. Not bad, Noelle. Not bad at all.

  I take a deep breath, and then open the door to get this party started. I nearly run right into Theo. He grabs my arm before I can fall over. Something electric sears my skin and I flinch away. He drops his hand and I can see the change in his eyes. He almost looks wounded.

  But Mr. Smooth covers up the emotion in the space of a blink, giving me a quick once over. I’d expected to see some heat in his expression, but the man gives stoic a new meaning. “You look...better.”

  My lips twist in what I hope is a convincing smile. “Well, aren’t you the smooth talker?”

  He rolls his eyes. “I will escort you back to the resort and you can begin your interviews.”

  “Why aren’t you kicking me off the island, like you threatened to?”

  He eyes me impassively. “Because I have nothing to hide. And maybe it’s time I had a proper story about Eden floating around, inside of all these rumors.”

  “A proper story might not turn out the way you want it to.”

  “Oh, I think it will.” He gestures to the stairs. I prickle at the arrogance in his tone.

  “What makes you think that?”

  He turns, and when those bright eyes meet mine, I feel a definite streak of lust, whipping through my gut.

  “I like control in all things, Ms. Davis. And I’m very, very good at getting it.”

  And that... that, Noelle, is a hot flash.