Falling For Her Bad Boy Boss (Island Girls: 3 Sisters In Mauritius)

by Zee Monodee

  A burst of shame ripped through her. He may have done things to her, but what of the things she’d done to him?

  The air squeezed out of her as her lungs closed under the assault of strong emotion. Her inhaler. She’d left it back in her room.

  She had to get out of here. The medicine might be the right excuse, but who was she kidding, really? She needed to go back to some place not treacherous to her sanity and the whole world she had built for herself.

  For she had to face it—Logan spelled danger for her, because he made her want more than what she should desire. For him, she’d take big leaps out of the comfort zone she’d worked so hard to settle around her.

  And this scared the life out of her.

  Along with the air, she remembered as she wheezed and little black dots flickered over her eyes.

  Carefully, she slithered across the sheet to the edge of the bed. This time, Logan didn’t hold her back, and she let his muscled thigh and arm fall back onto the mattress. She couldn’t resist darting a glance over his naked body, and a hot flash engulfed her.

  Danger! Neon-sign-like warnings flashed inside her brain.

  Pulling her clothes from where they lay on the floor, she wrapped herself in the sari, tugging the loose fabric a few times around so she wouldn’t risk tripping over it as she all but fled from the room. Remembering she hadn’t closed the sliding door of her room, she went out through the terraces and got into her hotel room.

  Once there, Neha reached for her inhaler and puffed three long shots into her lungs. Able to breathe again, she changed into the skirt and jacket she had worn on the way here. Grabbing her overnight bag, she stuffed the sari in it, not caring if she impressed permanent creases into the silk. She’d never wear the vibrant red garment again.

  Dashing by the bathroom to gather her toiletries, she ground to a halt in front of the mirror. There, in the reflection, stark red love bites jumped out at her against the paleness of the skin on her neck and collarbones.

  She gasped, and with dread, realized her whole body would probably be covered in the same marks, for Logan had been quite passionate and possessive with her last night.

  As she reeled at the realization that he seemed to have branded her as his, she leaned against the wall for support.

  Blast it, what had she done?

  Another notion crystallized, and she heeded it.

  Get out of here!

  ***

  A ray of sunlight tickled his lower back. Logan groaned as the soft heat intensified and spread along to his legs. Bugger. He hadn’t closed the curtains at night, and had thus awoken at sparrow’s fart.

  He smiled as he thought back to the previous evening, and the long hours of moonlight-touched darkness. Neha had been with him. Finally.

  Where is she? He’d wanted to wake up by her side, with her in his arms, preferably, but it seemed she had left his embrace during the past few hours.

  His hand lolled back to the other side of the mattress when he reached out, encountering … nothing?

  As his eyes flew open, he sat up with a start.

  She wasn’t here.

  In the bathroom, maybe? No sound came from the adjoining room, and with bitter dread mushrooming inside his throat, he turned towards the side of the bed where they had ditched their clothes.

  Only his trousers and shirt lay there. No hint of red silk anywhere in sight, her shoes gone, too. Along with her.

  She’d returned to her room, most probably. Allowing his pulse to come back to normal, he smiled softly. Neha wasn’t used to the morning after. He’d bet the only man she’d been with had been her husband. Of course she’d be embarrassed and feel awkward. If only he could show her how wrong she was. They had nothing to be ashamed of. He didn’t do one-night stands, and he wanted more than sex from her.

  Wait a minute—he did? Yeah, he hadn’t simply chased after her knickers, but while there’d been more to it, he hadn’t paused to think of the whole ramifications.

  He wished for her knickers to be off as often as possible, he reckoned with a chuckle. What man wouldn’t desire that from his wife?

  There it lay. He wanted her to be his wife. Neha had wheedled and wormed her way into his life, under his skin, and into every particle of his blood. He couldn’t conceive of his existence without her, certainly not after having had a taste of what her arms would feel like. Bloody hell, he’d nearly lost himself in the inferno they’d lit a few hours ago.

  Sliding to the edge of the bed, he pulled on his boxers and walked towards the terrace door. He didn’t bother with more clothes. At just past daybreak, he doubted there’d be people on the secluded stretch of beach in front of their rooms.

  Once on her terrace, he knocked on the door. A sliver of unease crept through him when he failed to get a reply after a few knocks. Maybe she was in the shower? He noticed a slit in the net curtains where she’d gone in. Peering in, he caught sight of a cold, impersonal, and perfectly appointed hotel room on the other side.

  He narrowed his eyes as anger burned through him.

  She’d left. No doubt about it. She’d escaped, before the sun had come up. Not only hadn’t she faced up to what they’d shared, but she’d also flung it all back into his face with a lack of consideration screaming she’d had second thoughts and wouldn’t deign acknowledge them to his person.

  After stalking back to his room, he grabbed the phone and pressed the button to reach Reception.

  “I’m calling from room 121. I also booked room 122 and need to know if it’s been vacated yet.”

  “Yes, sir,” the woman at the other end said. “Ms. Hemant checked out a little after four this morning.”

  “Thank you,” he replied, and placed the phone back in its cradle. He itched to hurl it down, crash it, and break something, anything, to alleviate the fury inside him.

  At four o’clock? She’d been running. How the hell had she gotten back to mainland, and where in the bloody world could she be?

  Logan reached for his mobile, but he froze on the verge of pressing the speed-dial button for her number.

  To Hell with her. Why should he care? She’d cut and run, and he’d never been the type of bloke who’d chase after a woman when she’d left of her own accord. Whether she wished for him to rush to her side and plead with her to come back, or if she strived to put as much distance as possible between them, he wouldn’t care. She may try to escape all she wished; in the end, she’d have to report for work on Monday. And then, he’d get his encounter with her.

  He slammed his fist into the pillow. Damn her, and damn it all to Hell.

  And wherever she was, was she safe?

  ***

  Suzanne stepped out of her Auntie Lara’s car and stilled. From where she stood, she could smell the decadent aromas floating from the house. Baked goodies, caramel, and chocolate.

  Her mum at home and baking? Bad. Real bad.

  Her brothers all but fell out of the big Mercedes as they rushed towards the kitchen. She turned to her Auntie, finding the frown she knew graced her features reflected on Lara’s face. Her mum’s sister knew something must be off, and Lara didn’t even know the half it.

  With a quick glance, they concerted to remain quiet and walked to the back door together.

  Suzanne gasped when she entered the room. The counter held a huge, frosted chocolate cake. Next to it sat a tray sporting at least a dozen little pots of crème brûlée, and her mother was pulling a sheet of chocolate chip cookies from the oven. With the fresh-baked biscuits on the countertop next to her, her mum then reached for another baking sheet and placed it in the oven.

  What in the name of all that is Holy is going on?

  “Hey,” Lara said. “Didn’t expect to find you here yet.”

  Yeah, me, too. You should’ve been in that hunk’s arms right now.

  Her mother seemed to snap out of a spell, her confused gaze landing on them, and only then appearing to realize her whole brood had returned home.

  “You
’re back already?” she said in a confused mumble.

  “Eric got called in for an emergency, and I have a luncheon later. We didn’t know when we’d be free to bring the children back,” Lara said.

  “Oh,” her mum replied.

  Something not right brewed here. Suzanne squinted at her parent, and she nearly gasped and swore right there. Oh. My. God!

  Grabbing Lara’s hand, she pulled her towards the stairs. Lara started to protest, but one glare from Suzanne silenced her.

  Suzanne waited until they’d reached her bedroom, behind a closed and locked door, then she flopped onto the bed and fished her iPhone out.

  “What’s going on?” her aunt asked.

  “It’s what I’m gonna find out.” After a few swipes, she waited for the call to be answered.

  She didn’t have long to kill. One ring, and his voice boomed across the line.

  “What happened?” she jumped in without a greeting.

  “Is she home?” Logan asked.

  She rolled her eyes. “Yes, she’s home. She’s been here for at least a few hours. She’s baked and frosted a triple-layered chocolate cake, made twelve ramekins of caramel custard, and now, her attention is on cookies. She came back last night?”

  “No, she left early today.”

  She heard the frustration and the barely contained edge of anger in his voice. Uh-oh. Her mum had pulled a nasty number on him. “So, did you land in her bed as planned?”

  A gasp resounded next to her, and she shook the hand on her arm when her aunt tried to catch her attention.

  “Suzanne, don’t talk of your mother in such a manner,” he scolded.

  She rolled her eyes. “Who cares right now? It’s the results that matter. Something happened. I saw the hickeys on her neck. They’re at least the size of Australia!”

  “My bed,” he said gruffly.

  “And?”

  “And she left when I was still sleeping before the break of dawn.”

  “Bloody hell!”

  This would be worthy of a soap opera. Who’d have thought? Her staid mum with a hot, hunky man—

  “Don’t you swear, young lady!” he snapped.

  “Sorry.” No way could she have said anything else in reply to the command. “Man, you must be seething right now.”

  “That’s putting it mildly.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Home.”

  “You guys are so pathetic.”

  “Cheers, honeybun. I really need to hear this right now.”

  “You’re wallowing in all your steaming anger over there because she walked out on you, and she’s a basket case here because she slept with you. Mum bakes cake as the last resort kind of therapy. Her usual fix is chicken tikka masala.”

  He sighed. “Then what am I supposed to do, eh. Don’t tell me to come beg her to give us a chance. I don’t do such theatrics.”

  “And you’d be right not to. Man, I’d lose all respect for you if you grovelled at a woman’s feet. That’s wimpy.” She paused, not knowing what to make of the silence at the other end of the line.

  “You’re not giving up on her, are you?” she asked in a small voice.

  Long silent seconds ticked by. “I don’t want to. But I’ll respect her wish.”

  Suzanne nearly swooned. When would she ever find a man like him, too? “I’ll get her to agree to give you two a chance. Give me twenty-four hours. Next time she sees you for the broadcast, she’ll be falling in your arms before you can snap your fingers.”

  He huffed, and she could almost see the smile that had to be playing on his lips.

  “Thanks, honeybun.”

  “Anytime, sexy,” she said with a big grin, and cut the call.

  Suzanne placed the phone back into her pocket. An intense glare focused on her, and she sighed. She’d just conceived a plan and would need help to bring it to fruition.

  Lifting her gaze to her aunt, she didn’t wince under the heavy scrutiny.

  “Who was that?” Lara asked.

  She needed to come clean and do it quick, Lara being a no-nonsense kind of woman. Well, here goes. “The man Mum spent the night with.”

  The other woman’s eyes grew wide. Suzanne shrugged. Her aunt couldn’t be so stupid, surely?

  “Hello? Have you seen the size of those love bites on her neck? She tried to hide them with a turtleneck jumper, but guess no one’s told her you need to colour correct with a green base and then blend a darker concealer on top to make it not noticeable.”

  “How would you know this?”

  Oops, busted. She grinned.

  Her aunt rolled her eyes “Don’t tell me. It’s Diya, right? Thank goodness that girl’s got no daughter, or Lord knows what sort of hellion she’d bring up. So, who did your mum spend the night with?”

  “A gorgeous hunk of a man named Logan Warrington.”

  “You’ve got to be kidding me! Neha and her boss? And what have you got to do with it? Seems like you’re all buddy-buddy with him.”

  Time to dish everything. “There’s no way she’d have taken a chance on him without a push. I just ascertained if he would welcome the attention or not.”

  Her aunt appeared pensive. “Makes sense. At least this way, she wouldn’t get hurt when push came to shove thanks to you.”

  “Uh-huh. And now, can you figure out what happened this morning?”

  Lara laughed. “I have a good idea. If she’s anything like me when I had hooked up with your Uncle Eric, I’d say she’s scared out of her wits. So, she ran back to sanctuary.”

  “So you see what we have to do now, don’t you?”

  Raised eyebrows met her gaze. “We?”

  Suzanne bit her lip. Had she been wrong in confiding in her aunt? “You will help me?”

  Lara clasped her hand. “On one condition. Whatever you do, don’t bring Diya in, or we’ll surely end up with a bigger mess on our hands.”

  Suzanne smiled.

  Her mum didn’t know what would hit her!

  ***

  Neha trailed her gaze onto the tall, striking woman walking into her kitchen. Lara, paragon of perfection.

  Don’t get bitchy. But being bitchy seemed so much better than the abysmal doldrums she lay in right now, innit? Such dark despair and uncertainty ate her alive like corrosive acid, and she wanted nothing more than to lash out because she couldn’t push it away to the farthest little corner of her brain. Damn Logan. So, she’d turned to her best therapy—or anger-management—option, making cakes and other desserts.

  The boys had already polished off half the chocolate cake; she’d need to start on another soon. Good. Something to occupy her hands and time.

  Lara went to the tray on the counter and picked up a ramekin of caramel custard.

  “May I?” she asked.

  “Go ahead,” Neha replied as she handed over a spoon.

  Lara settled herself at the counter and delicately attacked her tub of custard.

  How can one attack something delicately? Yet, her elder sister had the move down to an art.

  Rattled by this presence she hadn’t expected in her haven, Neha rolled the pin with too much force over the cookie dough on the granite top. The cutters then landed with heavy smacks into the soft thickness. Poor dough.

  Poor me!

  Oh, get over it! So she’d had a one-night stand. No one died from it, surely. Just look at Lara …

  Now you’re being a bitch. None of her sisters had indulged in that sort of behaviour, going for relationships and not mere hook-ups always. They each had a man they’d committed to a hundred and fifty percent, and their lives had hardly been about bed-hopping before they’d each met their respective husbands. While she … she found herself without a husband, had traipsed from a man’s bed in the thick of the dark, and had behaved like a shameless hussy.

  A hot flush swept up her cheeks as the memory of the past night materialized into her mind. Frankly, it needed no prompt to haunt her. She had a hell of a time smothering those i
mages and the remembrance of those emotions and feelings somewhere in her brain’s dark and undisturbed corner. His kisses, his caresses, his urgent yet satisfying lovemaking ...

  “Oh, God, this is good,” Lara said.

  Neha tore her thoughts from the X-rated movie playing in her mind and focused on her sister, glad for the distraction. “Since when do you like caramel?”

  “Always loved it, sweetie. You just never noticed.”

  She grimaced. Sorry, she yearned to mumble, but the word refused to leave her mouth. Why should she be apologizing?

  Careful with those lashing emotions, girl.

  Lara finished her dessert and placed the bowl and spoon down. She trained her intense gaze on Neha, who squirmed under the scrutiny.

  “Are you okay?” Lara asked.

  Taken aback by the—solicitude? Compassion? Worry?—in her sister’s tone, Neha frowned. “Sure.”

  “Bollocks.”

  Her cheeks flaming, she averted her face. Did Lara know something? She reached for the edge of her turtleneck collar, fingering it nervously. Had anyone seen …?

  The air stirred around her, and a soft whiff of ylang-ylang graced her nostrils. Slanting her gaze, she encountered Lara next to her.

  “I know it’s none of my business,” her sister said. “But the proper way to cover those hickeys is by using concealer and blending it into your skin.”

  Neha closed her eyes. So someone had noticed, and not only the staff at the Reception counter this morning at the resort. Despite it being obvious that she had tumbled from a man’s bed and a very clandestine affair, they hadn’t batted an eyelash or looked down at her. In fact, they’d been helpful and accommodating, even getting the skipper to come over to take her back to mainland.

  She cringed when she reckoned why they’d been so sympathetic. She’d said her daughter had gotten sick and had been taken to a private clinic.

  Blast it, she had lied, and all because of Logan. He did things to her she didn’t want him to do, made her do things she didn’t want to do.

  Stop kidding yourself. You loved every second of the past night, and you’d do it again if you had the chance.