Sinful Suspense Box Set

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Sinful Suspense Box Set Page 88

by Tess Oliver


  I unfolded the list of names Nick had given me and was just about to pick up the phone to call the next client when the phone rang.

  “Good afternoon, Regent Realty.” I put on my best business voice.

  “Who’s this?” It was a woman with a slight accent and a very haughty tone.

  “This is Jayden Clark. How can I help you?”

  “Put Nick on.”

  “He’s in a meeting right now. Can I take a message?”

  “No you can’t,” she said in a rude imitation of my best business voice, “tell Nick to pick up the damn phone— now.”

  I had a sneaking suspicion I was talking with the infamous Frankie.

  “Hold please,” I said politely but my teeth were clenched tight.

  I took my time walking to the back room. I knocked lightly and since I was in no hurry, I waited patiently for a response.

  The tense discussion stopped abruptly. “What is it?” Nick asked and I hated hearing that tone from him.

  I popped my head inside. Concern shaded both of their faces.

  “There’s a rather insistent woman on the phone and she has demanded to talk to you.”

  Nick sighed and picked up the phone. “Not now, Frankie. I’ll call you later.” He slammed down the phone, and I wondered how that would go over with perky miss sunshine.

  I sat down at my desk and made several more calls to possible clients and other realtors and managed to set up a small schedule of showings for the rest of the week. There was no place to chart anything and I had no day planner, so I decided to create a week at a glance chart on the computer. It was quite impressive.

  Taylor and Nick did not emerge from the office, and I overheard at least two heated phone calls but couldn’t make out the gist of what was being said. The minute Pierre walked in he headed straight to the back with hardly a nod of his head for me. The door slammed shut behind him.

  I was in the midst of emailing my mom and Rita when the front door opened again and a florist delivery guy walked in with a dozen dark pink roses. He smiled around the giant bouquet. “Are you Ms. Clark?” he asked with a heavy French accent.

  My eyes popped open. Who would send me flowers in Tahiti? “I am.” I made room on my desk, and he placed the vase of roses in front of me. I signed for the flowers and immediately pulled out the little card.

  “I thought these matched that amazing dress of yours. Have dinner with me tomorrow night and we can discuss the house. Robert.

  I leaned over my desk to breathe in their fragrance and then sat back in my chair and closed my eyes. Instantly, I had visions of me standing in that magnificent kitchen wearing nothing but a lacy apron and mixing up tropical drinks. Then two large arms circle my waist and I’m pressed against a hard chest. “Jayden.” A deep voice caresses the back of my ear.

  “Jayden,” the voice said again and my eyes popped open. Nick was standing over my desk. “Who sent the flowers?”

  “Mr. Jacobson, the guy I showed the house to today.”

  Pierre came out of the back room. “I thought I saw a hungry look on the man’s face when you stepped out of the car.”

  “What the hell is that supposed to mean?” Nick was definitely in a bad mood.

  Pierre’s shoulders sank beneath Nick’s glower. “Nothing, Nick. I was just joking.”

  Nick looked at me for a moment, glanced at the flowers, and combed his hair back with his fingers. “I’ll be back later.” He stormed out of the office.

  I looked at Pierre but he waved off my look of worry. “He has just had a bad day, that’s all. Forget about it.”

  Chapter 8

  Pierre was a great cook and after some burgers and a few beers, Nick’s mood improved. I had no clue what had happened to make him so mad, but I figured mentioning it might fire up his temper again so I remained mute on the subject. But when I brought up a subject that I was sure would please him, I stepped into more crap than I’d bargained for.

  “Mr. Jacobson really liked the estate I showed him today,” I said.

  Nick had a way of looking at me that made me feel like he was touching me with his gaze. I swallowed hard and continued. “He’s asked me to dinner tomorrow to discuss the details.”

  “Whooee,” Taylor said with an enthusiastic grin. “You’ll be salesperson of the month for sure.”

  “She handled herself like a real pro today,” Pierre added.

  I peeked over at my very silent boss. He threw back the rest of his beer, slammed the can on the table, and stood abruptly. He slid open the patio door and walked outside.

  I glanced at Pierre and Taylor. Both men avoided looking me in the eye. “I don’t understand— am I not supposed to be selling real estate? I seem to be the only person in the office who is actually working on real estate stuff.”

  Taylor opened another beer. “He’s just in a bad mood today.”

  “Yeah, I got that, but how long does he usually pout like this because it could get old pretty fast.” Pierre and Taylor both blanched some as they looked up at something behind me. “He’s right behind me, isn’t he?”

  Nick placed his large hand in front of me. “I’m done with my tantrum. You did great today. Come take a walk on the beach, Flash. I need to get out.”

  I stared at his giant palm for a second and then put my considerably smaller hand in his. “I never turn down a walk on the beach.” We headed to the door. “But if you get even the slightest bit cranky, I’ll turn right back around.” Taylor and Pierre’s laughter followed us out the door.

  Silhouettes of small clouds created a pattern in the reddish glow of an awesome sunset. People still lingered on the beach as Nick clutched my hand tighter and we walked along the water.

  “So this guy invited you to dinner?” he asked suddenly.

  “Yes, it’s a business dinner. I was calculating the office’s commission on this sale; it would be pretty significant. We could even buy real chairs for the office. You know— the kinds that don’t fold up.” I glanced up at his profile which was just as perfect as the rest of him. The dim light of the night sky did not diminish the impact of his extraordinary looks.

  “I don’t know if it’s safe. You only just met the guy.”

  “How’s that different from any other first date.” Bad choice of words.

  He stopped and faced me. “So it is a date?”

  I sighed. “It’s a business date. And it’s not like I did anything truly crazy and unsafe, like fly halfway around the world with a massively built guy who could crush me with one hand and who has the word dragon tattooed on his arm and a rather disagreeable temper.”

  He stared down at me with those incredible green eyes, and I could feel the heat of his gaze all the way down to my toes. His mouth tipped up in a smile. “Come on. I know a quiet place down at the end of the beach.”

  “Wait, I want to take off my shoes so I can smoosh my toes in the sand. World’s best pedicure.” The sand still held the heat of the day, and it felt great between my naked toes.

  A breeze blew off shore and it carried a flowery fragrance with it. I stopped, shut my eyes, and breathed it in. “Wouldn’t it be cool if the whole world smelled this good? Maybe if every place in the world had this comforting fragrance bad stuff wouldn’t happen.” I opened my eyes. “We’d all be intoxicated by the beauty and we’d treat each other better.”

  Nick was watching me. The same flowery breeze pushed his long black hair back off his face. He reached up and lightly pinched my chin. “Do you get up in the morning and practice being this adorable or does it just come naturally?”

  “A little of both, I suppose. Apparently I come from a long line of adorable.”

  We kept walking, and the farther we walked the quieter the beach grew. We sat close to the water. Small waves lapped lazily at the sh
ore. “This is nice. It was a shitty day and this definitely takes the edge off,” Nick said quietly.

  “Nick, I know there’s some stuff going on that—” I looked up at him.

  “You’re not in any danger, Jayden. I would never let anything happen to you. Let’s just say that aside from the realty business, I’ve got another side business going. But I’m not doing anything wrong.”

  I nodded and leaned back on my elbows. Obviously that was all I was going to get out of him. But there was one subject I was definitely curious about. “Who the hell is Frankie and why is she such a bitch?’

  He smiled revealing some sexy little lines on the side of his mouth. “Francesca is my ex-fiancé. Talk about avoiding the hangman’s noose. She’s beautiful and sexy and the most shallow woman on the planet.” He shook his head. “Still can’t believe I wasted two years of my life with her.”

  “But she calls constantly.”

  “Yeah. I guess you could say she hasn’t come to grips with our break up yet.” He stood suddenly. “No more talk about her or work or millionaires trying to hit on you. I came out here to clear my head.” Without warning he removed his shirt, and I blinked up at him like a deer in headlights.

  “Jeez, warn a girl before you do that.”

  He unbuttoned his jeans next. “Then I guess I should let you know that I’m stripping down to my briefs. I don’t know about you, but I’ve been dying to take a swim out there.”

  I looked down at my shorts and t-shirt and tried to decide if the two beers I’d had were enough to squash any inhibitions I had about stripping down to my bra and panties. Nick rolled off his jeans. I glanced around to see if a crowd of women had gathered yet but we were quite alone. I watched him walk to the water and realized I hadn’t taken a breath since he’d dropped his pants. His massive shoulders and chest tapered down to a tight waist and rock hard ass. I decided I’d had more than enough beers.

  Nick was waist high in the water as he turned around to look at me. Now I wished I’d taken my clothes off while he was walking out. I pulled my shirt off over my head and rolled down my shorts and then raced to the water. I splashed in and swam out to where he stood. The water came to my bra.

  “This water feels like a bath,” I said hoping my sudden case of nerves was not evident in my tone. I floated on my back and stared up at the sky. A permanent parade of small clouds danced above, occasionally moving aside long enough to reveal a blanket of stars. “To think, just a week ago I was flopped on my couch drowning my sorrows in a case of orange soda and now I’m floating beneath a Tahitian sky.” With the human form of a Michelangelo’s David, I wanted to add but kept that remark to myself.

  He floated next to me. “And why were you drowning your sorrows with orange soda?”

  “That’s all I had in the fridge and worst of all, I’d bought the case of soda for the guy I was seeing. He loved the stuff.” The water gently lifted us and then lowered us back down.

  “What happened?”

  “We were competing for the same managerial position, and he knew I was the better candidate so he played a dirty trick on me.”

  “Sounds like an ass.”

  “Maybe we could match him up with Francesca.”

  “I like that plan.” He pushed his feet down.

  I followed and we stared at each other for a lingering moment. The rhythmic slapping of the warm waves was the only sound— aside from our breathing which seemed to quicken with each passing moment.

  Nick reached up and pushed the wet hair off my face. “Jayden, about the kiss on the plane . . .”

  I looked up at him expectantly. “Yes?”

  He shook his head. “I guess there’s not much to say. It started out of necessity but then— fuck it. It was a great kiss.” His hand reached toward me and his arm wrapped around my waist. He pulled me against him and sat me on his thigh. Without warning, his mouth trailed down my neck and shoulders. My nipples hardened with the feel of his mouth on my skin. My head lulled back as he leaned down and licked the hollow of my throat. His fingers tugged down the tops of my bra. My taut nipples were exposed to the warm night air. His tongue made a sensual trail along my cleavage before circling my breast. His mouth covered my breast, and I arched my back to press harder against his tongue. I was dizzy with the feel of his mouth on me. Slowly his hand traveled over my abdomen, and his fingers edged beneath my panties. My breath was coming in short spurts and as his fingers found my swollen clitoris, I pressed my face against his shoulder and groaned softly.

  “I have to tell you,” I whispered on a breath, “I’m not like those girls in books and movies who just have to sneeze to climax . . .”

  He drove his fingers deep inside me. My hips rocked instinctively back and forth against the movement of his hand. Within seconds my mind splintered in every direction, and I clamped my thighs around his hand as I whimpered in ecstasy. My entire body shuddered with the delicious feeling of it. I collapsed against his chest and he held me tightly in his arms.

  He kissed my forehead. “Gesundheit.”

  I snuggled my face against his neck. “What do you know? I guess I am that kind of girl.”

  Chapter 9

  The next morning I was worried about awkwardness after the moment of intimacy in the water, but Nick was already so busy with phone calls when I stepped out of the bedroom, he’d hardly noticed I was there. Not too sure how I felt about the indifference, but it beat feeling uneasy.

  Aside from occasionally catching him watching me or an overlong, over exaggerated brush by in the small kitchen and then twice at the office, and except for the occasional racing pulse and heart flutter —mine, not his— we were essentially just two people working in the same realty office. And there was actually some real realtor stuff happening too.

  Taylor was on the phone in the back setting up showings, and Nick walked out of the office wearing the clothes Pierre had brought for him, nice black jeans and a pale green dress shirt. His long hair was combed back behind his ears and the tips of it turned up ever so cutely on the collar of the shirt. He cleaned up spectacularly. I peered up at him over the tops of the roses that were now releasing so much fragrance my every breath was filled with perfume. I whistled loudly.

  “Yeah, I know. I should be in a damn calendar,” Nick said.

  “One of those black Pilgrim hats and you’d make a titillating Mr. November.” I would definitely buy that calendar.

  “I’m going out to meet with several other realtors at a showing. I’ll be back by noon. I forwarded you something from Hampton Realty in California. It contains names and island listings.”

  My eyes widened. “The Hampton Realty— the multimillion dollar, high-end realty company in Beverly Hills?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. My mom had some people interested in vacation spots out here. That’s one of the reasons we opened a Regent office in Tahiti . . . among other things.”

  “Your mom? Is she with your company?”

  “Let’s just say my company is part of her company. My mom is Cindy Hampton. And, before you ask, yes— that Cindy Hampton. Look over the information she sent and make some calls.” He smiled down at my self-made chart. “I like that. Make me a copy too.” Then he touched one of the roses. “Are you still going on that dinner date tonight?”

  “It’s a business date, and as far as I know, I’m still going. He’s really interested.”

  “I’ll bet,” he said sardonically. “Just don’t be too disappointed if he doesn’t buy the place. Rich guys don’t get where they are by making impulse buys.”

  “I think you underestimate my abilities as a salesperson,” I said defensively.

  “I don’t underestimate them at all, Flash.” His gaze drifted over me heating every inch of my skin. “Something tells me you could talk a starving man out of his last bite of food. I ju
st don’t want you to get your hopes up that this guy is willing to shell out his money so easily.”

  “I’ve been in the business world long enough to know the ups and downs of it,” I said.

  “I’m sure you have.” Nick turned to leave.

  “And I would give a starving man my last bite of food . . . not the other way around,” I said. He looked back at me for a long moment and then walked out.

  ***

  The morning moved along nicely. Several people walked into our rather concealed little office asking about vacation rentals, and Taylor got some possible leads. Pierre returned after several hours. I was never quite sure where the man went during the day, but he seemed to be less involved with the business and more just a friend that liked to hang around the office. Although he was obviously involved with Nick’s side business, whatever it was. If Nick was the son of Cindy Hampton, he could not be strapped for cash. It made the whole thing that much stranger.

  Nick walked back in looking slightly more ruffled than when he’d left.

  “You need a car instead of that motorcycle,” Pierre said.

  Nick ran his fingers through his long hair to tame it back. I thought the wild look was just fine. “Did you get the packages to the post office?” he asked Pierre.

  “Signed, sealed and delivered. Just waiting for your next order, Boss.”

  Taylor stepped out of the back room. “There’s an email from Boone.”

 

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