by Lush, Tamara
“The princess! From that tiny European country.” Each morning in London, Max and I devoured the tabloids. While we were there, news of her dismal love life was in every paper, in excruciating and humiliating detail. I’d felt terrible on her behalf just by reading the stories. If anyone was familiar with public humiliation, it was me. This woman’s in a different league, though.
“Yes! Holy crap! That’s her.”
I shuffle in a little half-circle so I can peer up from my phone. She’s batting her eyes at Tate, and he’s responding as if she’s the most fascinating person on the planet.
Now that I study her, she does seem different from the average human. Maybe it’s her straight posture. Or the way her clothes all look crisp and new, like someone took great pains to iron them. I’ve been around enough old European money, and she’s displaying understated grace only people with generations of privilege enjoy.
“Princess Isabella. The tabloids called her the plain princess,” I lean in and whisper in Max’s ear. “But she’s pretty. She’s not plain at all.”
“I can tell Tate doesn’t think she’s plain.” Max guffaws softly.
“Should we go introduce ourselves?”
We stand there, perplexed, watching the Princess and Tate flirt. Tate says something to the receptionist, who rummages around and hands him a folded brochure.
“Oh God, he’s probably telling her about Salty Sadie’s sunset pirate cruise,” Max groans.
I glance at him. “What’s wrong with that? I’ve been meaning to buy tickets for us, by the way. I’m kind of fascinated by the pirate lore here. Kate’s been filling me in on all the legends.”
“I wouldn’t think royalty would go for something touristy like that. Jesus, look at Tate. Any second he’s going to ask her to dinner at the Square Grouper. Christ. I’m going back to work.”
“Wait. Should we say something to her?” I frown a little. “And why isn’t she with an entourage if she’s royalty? Something’s weird about this.”
“Nah, we should leave her alone. She probably wants her privacy.” He kisses my forehead. “Especially after her fiancé was such a tool.”
Tate and the Princess shift so their backs are to us. They’re standing shoulder-to-shoulder, poring over the brochure spread out on the reservation counter.
“Looks like she wants privacy with your brother…Max, oh my God, look.” I point. “Chunky’s sniffing her pillow. He probably thinks it’s a toy because it kind of looks like that stuffed octopus your mom gave him. It’s the same color.”
The dog is on his hind legs and scaling the Princess’ suitcase, where her travel pillow is artfully draped on top. He grabs the U-shaped pillow in his small, stubby snout.
As Max and I rush forward, we watch in horror as Chunky shakes the light blue plush object as if murder’s the only thing in his walnut-sized brain.
“Chunky, bad dog,” I shout. “Let go!”
Everything unfolds in slow motion. The dog drops the pillow on the floor and lifts his leg. Max yells, his voice echoing around the lobby.
Visions of nasty tabloid news stories and vicious online reviews about the newly renovated Paradise Beach Resort fly through my mind. I lunge for the dog while a startled Tate tears himself from his seduction.
“Noooo,” Max hollers.
But we’re too late.
A long, yellow stream hits the royal pillow.
THE END
Thank you for reading ALL I WANT! Why not check out Book Three, and find out what happens with Tate and the mysterious princess (and Chunky).
Read on for a sneak preview…
All I Ask — Sneak Preview
Paradise Beach #3
TATE
“C’mon Chunk man, time for the handoff.”
I unhook the pudgy pup from his seat harness and attach the leash to his collar. It’s an effort not to get pug fur all over me as I lift him out of the backseat of my SUV, but I figure Max or someone will have one of those lint rollers inside the resort.
Normally I don’t give a crap about Chunky’s fur, but today, I’m in my best suit, the one I bought at some ridiculously expensive store in Miami when I was there with my ex last year. She’d talked me into buying it, possibly the only smart decision I’d made with her.
I leave the car parked in the loading zone in front of the resort, figuring I’ll only be a few minutes while I find Lauren and give her the dog. It’s not like there are many guests here today; the official grand re-opening isn’t for another two weeks.
“Hey. How are things? You see Lauren around today?” I grin lazily at the front desk clerk, a blonde with a cute body. She’s one of the new employees here.
“Tate, hi,” she says, her eyes wide and sparkling. “Aww, there’s Chunky, your famous dog.”
Famous for farting at inappropriate times, according to my brother Damien. “Famous. Or infamous. You decide.”
She laughs. “You look impressive. Going somewhere important?” Her eyes roam over my body. “Not that you don’t look amazing every day, but usually when I see you, you’re in a T-shirt and board shorts. Although I love that look, too.”
“I have a meeting off island.” I lean against the reception counter, which is sleek and all-white. Everything’s sleek and all-white now, a one-eighty from the bright, kitschy Florida resort vibe the place used to have.
Chunky obediently sits next to me. Praise the Lord, puppy kindergarten paid off. “You’re looking at one of Florida’s next state representatives.”
Her brow furrows. “What? Really?”
I let out a chuckle. “Maybe. If I'm lucky. I’m considering running for office. This is an exploratory meeting with potential campaign donors.”
She giggles and bats her eyelashes a little too much and I suspect the heavy flirtation will follow. A few years ago, I’d have been all over this, but now, she seems too young — probably a solid ten years my junior. And with the nose ring, the multiple tattoos and the pink streak in her hair, probably not the best choice of a partner for a future politician.
It’ll be a tough enough sell to voters that I have a dad who was a punk rock singer back in the 80s, a mom who’s into New Age woo, and brothers with various peculiarities. Also, there’s my sister, whose hair usually looks similar to this clerk’s. Hell, she’s probably a friend of Natalie’s and that’s why she got the job. The girl is cute, though.
But meh. That‘s been my take lately on dating. Meh.
“Is a state representative like a governor?”
Womp-womp. Definitely not the partner for a future politician.
Still, I wouldn’t give a crap about any of it — even the lack of a civics education — if there were a spark. That’s the problem I’ve had with women I’ve dated lately. No flames, no smoke, no spark.
It’s an unsettling vibe for a guy who used to get a lot of action. Can you have a mid-life crisis at thirty-two? A weekend in Miami might set me straight. Sometimes Paradise Beach is too confining, too small.
“I’ll call Max’s office. Lauren showed up a little while ago, and the two of them disappeared together.” The clerk picks up the phone, keeping her eyes and smile on me. “You know them. They've been glued together ever since they got back from London.”
"You're not kidding," I mutter. She winks in response.
“Nevermind. There they are.” I point across the lobby.
My brother and his fianceé — Jesus, it’s weird to say that about Max because he was a bachelor for so long — emerge from a side door that leads to the resort offices. They’re holding hands.
“There’re the lovebirds,” I say in a flat voice. The fact that my brother Damien fell in love and got married, and then Max fell for the best friend of Damien’s wife, makes me feel a little left out. There’s always my brother Remy, who will almost certainly never get married. Unless it’s to a mermaid.
Turning to the clerk, I shoot her a grin. “Could you keep an eye on Chunky for a couple minutes? I don’t want to pick
him up and since he’s sitting so calmly, don’t want to drag him around, either.”
“Absolutely. I love the Chunkster,” she coos, coming around the desk and taking the leash from me.
“You can let him off leash. He’s obedient. And slow.”
“Tate, c’mere. Wanna ask you something.” My brother waves me over, his voice echoing in the lobby.
I wander through the blindingly white space to where Max and Lauren are standing. They’re in front of one of her many framed photos that adorn the lobby.
“Look what we put up today. I’m so proud of her.” Max points to one of the large photographs, and he looks as proud as if Ansel Adams had risen from the dead and given him the pictures.
I study another of the photos. It’s a beautiful waterscape of the Gulf of Mexico, about ten shades of blue. Lauren’s got an eye, I’ll give her that. Truthfully, I haven’t gotten to know her all that well.
“These are going to sell like crazy,” I say. “You’d better take more.”
Hell, I might even buy a couple. They’d look perfect in my beachfront home.
Max untangles from Lauren and joins me. “You ready for today?”
I smirk at my blonde-haired, blue-eyed brother. We look nothing alike and our younger twin brothers are carbon copies of me. Max and I have somewhat of understanding — he’s a businessman and I’m a lawyer, so we almost speak the same language. Our twin brothers, the Marine and the sport fisherman, are more like salt-of-the-Earth kind of guys.
Max and I are more like aged scotch and BMW kind of guys. But while he left for New York in his early twenties and wanted to conquer the city, I chose to stay on the island and give back to the area. The environment's my passion, while Max is more about the deals and the cash. We both drive luxury cars — the difference is, mine's a hybrid.
Don't get me wrong; I've done well for myself. Well enough to be considered a serious congressional candidate at the age of thirty-two.
“Pfft. What’s there to be ready? I’ve got this. I'm ready to kiss babies, eat corn dogs at county fairs and debate the competition." I squeeze him on the shoulder. "Seriously, it's the only way we're going to get anything done for the Everglades, electing more people like me to office."
"You've already got the talking points down, nice job. And it is a big step. An exploratory committee. These people might pledge millions to you based on what they see and hear today. Go kick some ass.”
I push out a breath. “I haven’t made any decisions yet.”
“Well, whatever you do, I’m in your corner. Holding campaign signs, making phone calls, donating a million or two. I’ve got you covered. Wish I could be there today but I'm swamped with work.”
Max is always swamped with work. Another way we're different — I know how to relax. “Thanks, man.”
Lauren joins us and slips her arm around my brother’s waist. He kisses her forehead and she smooches his cheek. Both begin to coo, and I roll my eyes.
“This is my cue to leave,” I mutter. The two of them are over-the-top with their PDA. I’ve never seen Max this crazy over a woman. She's gotten him to chill a little, though, so I'm all for their relationship. The way Max was going before he met her, he was headed for a heart attack by the time he was forty-five.
“Chunky’s all yours,” I say to Lauren, who is giggling into my brother's neck.
Just then, something catches my eye at the front desk, some thirty feet away. A slim woman with long chestnut-colored hair is petting Chunky. I’m guessing she’s a guest, but on the off chance she’s someone new on the island, I should meet her.
For future campaign purposes, of course. Gotta keep the constituents happy.
She doesn’t notice me walking up because she’s so absorbed with my dog. Of course he’s in ecstasy from her scratches and is doing that thing where his tongue flops out the side of his mouth.
I grin at the two of them. The woman looks up, directly into my eyes, and I swear to Christ an electric current travels up my spine.
“Hello,” she says softly as she rises. Her hair is long, extending to her breasts. Probably ends right at her nipples. The thought makes me ache.
“Hi.” I grin. “My dog sure likes you.”
When she smiles, my heart kicks into high gear. I detect something different about her, but I can’t put my finger on what. Maybe it’s her shiny hair. Or her stunning amber eyes. I also detect a vibe of intense poise, like she’s been to finishing school, or took years of ballet.
She also has the most graceful curve between her hip and waist I’ve ever seen on a woman.
“I adore pugs. They look like little monkeys that have forgotten something important.”
Jesus, she’s funny, too. There’s nothing better than a funny woman. “I never thought of it that way, but you’re right.”
There’s a pause, and we both study each other, the air suddenly warmer than it was five minutes ago. I have a faint awareness of the desk clerk, but as far as I’m concerned, the entire world fell away while I’m in the presence of this captivating woman.
“First time on Paradise Beach?”
She shakes her head. “I came here when I was twenty. Ten years ago, during Spring Break. I stayed at this resort, in fact. The changes here are stunning. And you? Is it your first time on Paradise Beach?”
As a lawyer, I’m never at a loss for words. But her simple question has me tongue-tied as I stare into her beautiful golden eyes. “No. I… I live here. My brother owns this place, and I was coming here to drop off my dog. I have a meeting and I don’t like him to stay by himself. Probably silly, I know.”
“Oh, that’s so wonderful you care enough not to leave your dog alone. I’m always heartbroken when I hear about people who leave their dogs home alone for hours and hours.”
I grin, stupidly. Her accent is unusual, a hybrid of British and American. Soft vowels, dropped Rs, hard Ts… she sounds formal, aristocratic, even. Like Katherine Hepburn or another old time-movie siren.
I happen to have a thing for old-time movie sirens.
My heart slamming against my chest, I tilt my head. “Have any plans for your vacation?”
She smiles so sweetly that a twinge of shame goes through me, like I‘m a creeper for asking. “Kayaking, snorkeling, paddleboarding. Anything to do with the water. I assume a lot has changed since I was here last and there's more to explore. Do you have any suggestions?”
Is it too early to ask her to hang out at my pool for an afternoon? Yeah, it probably is.
“There is quite a bit to do here, for such a small island.”
I turn to the desk clerk. “Do you have any of those brochures, the ones about the art walk or the beach festival?”
She looks up from her phone and rummages around in a drawer “Oh, sure. Here.”
She hands me a couple of folded-up brochures.
“Here we go.” I unfold it on the desk. My body prickles with awareness when the beautiful woman moves next to me. So close the warmth of her body radiates to mine.
“This looks like… a pirate cruise?” she says in a confused tone.
Oh, shit. I was so nervous that I opened the pirate brochure instead of the art handout. She doesn’t look like a pirate cruise kind of woman.
“Oh, yeah. Salty Sadie’s Pirate Ship.”
She’s put her finger on a photo of the fake pirate ship and reads the text.
“Cruise like a pirate,” she grins. “Party like it’s 1666. Surrender ye booty to the dance floor and swagger with the motion of the ocean.”
“Arrrr.” Jesus H. Christ, I might be the state’s top environmental lawyer, rich and (some women say) handsome, but today, I’m absurd.
And still, the woman laughs. Not a giggle but a laugh. It’s like champagne bubbles or the audio version of the color pink. I imagine making her laugh in bed. While we’re both naked.
Ahoy, me hearties,” she says in a perfect pirate brogue.
I chuckle. She is adorable.
* * *
I hope you enjoyed this sneak peek of Tate and Isabella’s story! Click here to read ALL I ASK, Book Three in the series. It’s exclusively on Amazon and free with Kindle Unlimited - release date is Aug. 23, 2019!
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Booklist
PARADISE BEACH SERIES
All I Know — Book One
All I Want — Book Two
All I Ask — Book Three (August 2019)
CONSTANT CRAVING SERIES (Exclusively on Amazon)
Constant Craving — Book One
Constant Craving — Book Two
Constant Craving — Book Three
Constant Craving — The Complete Novel + a bonus novella
THE STORY SERIES (Exclusively on Amazon)
Tell Me a Story — Season One
Tell Me a Story — Season Two
Tell Me a Story — Season Three
Tell Me a Story — The Complete Novel + a companion novella
LOVE IS THE DRUG (Radish Fiction)
Season One
Season Two
THE PRETENDERS SERIES (Wattpad)
Drive
Crash
BURNING SECRETS SERIES (Wattpad)
Dirty Lies
Dirty Secrets
Dirty Games
About the Author
Tamara Lush lives with her Italian husband and two dogs on Florida’s Gulf Coast.