Seduction in the Sun: Adult Romance Box Set (9 Sizzling Tales with BBW, Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males)

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Seduction in the Sun: Adult Romance Box Set (9 Sizzling Tales with BBW, Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males) Page 23

by Hawkeye, Lauren


  The urgency in that embrace was intense and it took me by surprise. Not just the intensity from Ben, but the intensity welling up inside of me. This was wrong on so many levels, but right then, in the moment, everything was perfect.

  His mouth was moving over mine, his lips parted, the brush of his tongue against my closed lips warm and teasing. I parted my lips and his tongue slid against mine and I heard that little keening noise I make, deep in the back of my throat. I was melting into him at a rapid rate.

  His hands tightened on my body and he pulled me up in one smooth move, pressing me hard against him. I wrapped my arms around his neck, stood on tiptoe and threw myself into the kiss, any last hesitancy gone. My hands found the soft swirls of his hair as his found their way beneath the jacket. With a careless shrug it landed on the chase and the touch of the breeze on my skin sent a shiver down my spine. Instantly Ben’s arms were around me, the warmth of his body sending completely different sensations through me.

  The kiss deepened, amazingly so. I’d never been so lost in a kiss. It went on and on, neither of us able to get enough of the other. I’d stopped thinking of Ben as the groom, of Claire’s future husband. He was the man in my arms, the man making me dizzy and giddy and wanting more.

  Claire’s future husband. I broke away with a gasp, hand to my mouth.

  “Oh, my god. Ben...I’m...this isn’t...” I stumbled out of his arms, hit the chaise with the back of my legs and sat down hard.

  “Are you okay?” He sat down, taking my hand. I shivered and thought about pulling it back, but couldn’t make myself do it.

  “I’m fine. It’s just...”

  “That shouldn’t have happened?”

  I nodded. “I shouldn’t have...”

  Ben held up his hand. “Stop. You didn’t do anything, Dana. Please don’t think that.”

  “But you’re getting married...”

  He looked out over the ocean again, his brow creased, but only for a moment. I saw the corner of his mouth curl into a smile.

  “Yeah. I am.” He turned back to me, the smile broadening. “But I won’t lie to you, Dana. Kissing you...it was...I haven’t felt that way in quite some time.”

  I shook my head. “...but it wasn’t right.”

  “But it felt right, didn’t it?” The smile deepened, his eyes flashing in the light.

  I sighed. He was right. It was good...damn good. “Yeah...it was good.”

  He held out his hands and I took them and he pulled me to my feet. “I went for a walk to clear my head. This wasn’t what I was expecting, you know, not what I planned.”

  “I know. It’s not what I planned, or would have planned...or...”

  “Or wanted?” His voice was low, gently teasing, but serious and his eyes were locked on mine.

  I had no ready answer. The longer the silence stretched between us, the more intense Ben’s gaze became.

  Finally he nodded. “I thought so.” He leaned forward, kissing my forehead softly, his lips warm. I closed my eyes, inhaling one last time. This was the end of any contact I was probably going to have with Ben and I wanted to remember the cologne, the feel of his hands, his lips on my forehead. Vienna would certainly find out about this and I’d be sent home on the next charter...or on the next boat off the island.

  He straightened, leaning his forehead against mine for a moment. “It’ll be fine, Dana. Don’t worry.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  The warmth of his breath tickled against my skin. “You’re a terrible liar.”

  I pulled away. “Yeah. I know. And yeah. I’m worried.”

  “It’ll be okay. Really. Everything will just go on like it’s supposed to, and we’ll have this...little moment that we had. A good moment.” He smiled down at me.

  “What about Claire?” As soon as her name left my lips, I wanted to take it back. The smile on Ben’s face faded, the light going out of his eyes, and it took a chip out of my heart.

  “I’m hoping by tomorrow she’s not so upset, that she’ll be distracted by whatever’s happening tomorrow...the guests arriving and...”

  “Oh, shit! And her dress. I’d forgotten all about that.” I had a moment of panic, envisioning the dress still sitting on a runway in New York and me now made by Vienna to swim home.

  “The dress...hopefully the storm won’t cause problems.”

  “What storm? You said that before. How do you know there’s a storm coming?”

  “The wind...it’s shifting. You can feel the difference, the cooler chill. It gives you goose bumps.”

  I was wide-eyed. “You’re like the Ancient Mariner. How did you know that?”

  Ben’s laugh rang out. It was a pretty fantastic laugh, but I wasn’t sure why he was laughing, or why at me.

  “There’s a weather radio in the terminal. I heard the forecast.”

  “Oh, you.” I slapped his arm. And then I laughed. “I’m so gullible sometimes.”

  “It’s not supposed to be a big storm, but you never know down here. Hopefully, it’ll just blow over, we’ll have some rain, and that’ll be the end of it. What time is the plane with the dress supposed to arrive?”

  “Early afternoon, after lunch. And there are guests arriving too...they might be delayed.”

  Ben chuckled, a sound that didn’t carry much mirth. “In Claire’s world, the dress comes first. She’s really got her heart set on that dress. And I want her to be happy. The dress will make her happy.”

  “I should be going.” We moved apart on the patio. I reached behind me and picked up his jacket and handed it to him.

  “Thanks.” He took it from me, looking down at it, held in his hands.

  “I’ll go back now.” He walked down the steps and then turned, looking back at me. “Dana. Thank you. Really. For listening, I mean. It’s put a lot of things in perspective for me.”

  I nodded and watched him walk into the darkness. The sky had clouded over, the moon and stars gone. I picked up the wine glasses and walked slowly back into my room, leaving the doors open. I wanted to listen to the ocean, fall asleep to the sound of the waves washing up on the beach.

  Most of my clothes were still tossed across the bed after my frantic search through my luggage for my suit. I dug around until I found my pajamas and the robe I’d worn earlier, and headed to the shower. My skin was sticky from the salt water and sand clung to my feet.

  I stood under the warm water for a long time, letting it run through my hair, over my shoulders. I was tense, more than I thought I’d be. The buzz from the wine was long gone, burned off during the intensity of the kiss and by the guilt that was working its way through my mind and heart.

  Maybe Ben was right; this was just a...moment. A mistake, a one-time thing. His life would go forward, he’d marry Claire. I’d do my job, try not to get fired. I wasn’t that good at creating illusions and now I was going to have to build one large enough to cover what happened, to believe things were the same, that nothing had changed. Maybe that it hadn’t happened at all.

  I finally got out of the shower, wrapping a big fluffy towel around my hair and putting on my pajamas. The wine was gone, the empty bottle on the tiny kitchen counter. I found some orange juice and poured a glass. It was tart and sweet and was the best I’d ever tasted. Or else everything just tasted better on a tropical island.

  I sat cross-legged on the bed, sipping my juice. So much had happened, in such a short time. I thought about tomorrow, how much there was to do, the dress. Claire’s dress.

  And then, even though I didn’t want to, I thought about Ben. And the kiss. I turned out the bedside light and slid down between the sheets, pulling the blanket up around my shoulders. I could hear the ocean, louder than it had been. Ben was right, there was a storm coming.

  Chapter Four

  The phone next to the bed rang while I was in the shower. I left a trail of soap across the bathroom floor as I lunged for the phone.

  “Hello?”

  “Where have you been? I’ve b
een trying to find you.”

  Vienna. “I was in the shower. What did you need?” I was clutching a towel, trying hard to avoid standing in front of the open patio doors, although I didn’t think anyone would be strolling by this early in the morning.

  “I want you to start tracking down that dress.”

  I gave in and rolled my eyes. “Vienna, it’s too early. We’re an hour ahead of them. No one’s even there yet to call. As soon as they open...”

  “Fine. I want you to make sure none of the guest arriving today wait. And it’s raining, so you’ll need to find an umbrella so they aren’t getting wet.”

  “And where...”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to find one.” The line went dead.

  I sighed and headed back to the bathroom, stepping back into the shower. Twenty minutes later I was dressed and heading down the path toward the terminal. My cellphone had decided it didn’t want to cooperate, so I wanted to ask Nigel if I could use the terminal phone to call the shipping company. I crossed my fingers that someone would be working in New York, able to take my call. And able to tell me what I wanted to hear, that the dress was going to be on the plane and the weather wasn’t a problem.

  The weather at the moment was a gentle rain, warm, the breeze carrying the scent of flowers and ocean, briny and sweet and clean. It was so different from New York, the rain hitting the hot sidewalk, mixing with the smells of truck fumes and restaurant garbage; not a pleasant smell. I could get seriously used to this place, even with the rain.

  The pleasant woman behind the desk at the terminal dialed the number in New York for me and handed me the phone. Someone was there, and that someone had answers for me. The dress was packaged, the plane was chartered and was scheduled to leave on time. I asked about the storm, but they said it would be up to the pilot of the plane if things changed. I thanked them and hung up. I was almost to the terminal doors when I remembered and turned back.

  “Do you know where I can find an umbrella?”

  She did and graciously handed me a huge golf umbrella, the same color as the Hummer golf cart. I imagined there would be a Breaker Island logo on the unfurled umbrella.

  My first guest of the day wasn’t scheduled for another hour. I was trying to decide if I had time to find breakfast wherever the staff ate or if I should just head back to my room. The blare of static in my head made me jump.

  “Dana? Are you there?”

  I tapped the mic. “I’m at the terminal. I just called...”

  “I’m not asking about the dress. I need you at my villa, now.”

  “But the dress...”

  “Dana. My villa. Now.”

  And she was gone. I sighed and caught the eye of the woman behind the desk. She gave me a sympathetic smile. I smiled back and headed out into the rain.

  I ran up the steps to Vienna’s villa. She was out the door before I even raised my arm to knock.

  “I need a ride to the main villa.” Vienna brushed past me and headed down the steps.

  “Is something wrong with your cart?” I hurried down the steps after her. She was already in the cart, brushing a few raindrops from her suit jacket.

  “It’s...” She waved her hand at the cart. “Something’s wrong with it.”

  I glanced at the cart and suppressed a laugh. The plug cord dangled from the front of the cart. I took a quick detour, reaching down to plug the cord into the outlet. I heard a low hum as I stepped back from the cart.

  “Dana!”

  Vienna leaned out of the cart but pulled her head back, grimacing as the soft rain hit her face. I scooted back around the end of the cart, taking my place behind the wheel.

  “Just needed to be plugged in. It should be charged pretty soon. I can bring you back later.”

  I turned around, heading down the path toward the main villa. I glanced at Vienna, and found her looking at me, an expectant look on her face.

  “I am waiting, Dana.”

  I shook my head. “For what?”

  “The dress. I want an update on the dress.”

  “Oh. The shipping company confirmed the dress is there, packaged the way the bridal shop sent it and it’ll be on the plane as promised. The only thing...”

  I saw her hand moving out of the corner of my eye, raised to silence me.

  “I don’t like hearing ‘the only thing’, Dana. What is the only thing? Something else that is mis-managed?

  “Well, it’s nothing we can control. It’s the weather. The pilot has the final say if the weather is too severe to fly.”

  “Then you better pray the weather holds out. When that dress arrives, you find me. I’ll take it to Claire.”

  I pulled up to the main villa. The rest of our brief ride had been in silence. I reached for the umbrella but Vienna was already out of the cart, heading inside. She turned at the bottom of the steps.

  “You have guests to retrieve. I suggest you get to work.” With that she went inside.

  I turned the cart around and headed back to the terminal. Apparently breakfast was out of the question, unless I could find something at the terminal.

  The woman behind the desk did have a croissant and orange juice, for which I was profoundly grateful. I had just enough time to eat before the first flight of the day arrived.

  The rest of the morning was spent meeting guests and taking them to their villas. I was amazed at how many villas, rooms and guest cottages were tucked away on this island. And I was amazed by the number of family and friends that were attending this wedding, some of them just as prominent in the society and financial pages as Ben Carter and Claire Latham.

  A prickle of anxiety began working through me as the time grew near for the charter from New York to arrive with Claire’s dress. The rain continued steadily all morning, the wind occasionally blowing gusts against the terminal windows. All the guests had been so wrapped up in talking about their flight and being here for the wedding, no one cared about getting wet. I’d never got to find out if the umbrella carried the Breaker Island logo; it had stayed tucked in the back of the cart.

  With every flight that arrived with guests, I tried to tell myself that if they were arriving then the weather wasn’t that bad. But with each flight that arrived that wasn’t the charter from the shipping company, those reassurances were just hollow thoughts.

  “Stop worrying. No one’s contacted us that the flight’s not arriving.”

  James’s reflection appeared beside me in the terminal glass where I stood, glued to the glass, eyes on the sky.

  “Do they do that? Do they let you know?”

  James stood, looking up at the pewter-colored sky. “If they’re on the schedule, yes, they’ll let us know. And no one’s contacted the terminal staff.” He rested his hand on my shoulder. “So you can stop worrying.”

  “I’m not worried.”

  He squeezed my shoulder. “Word of advice? Never...”

  “Play poker.” I finished his sentence with a laugh. “I’ve heard that before...more times than I can count.”

  “There...see?” James pointed. A tiny dark spot had appeared, darker gray than the clouds. It grew larger and then hit the runway. There were no swirls of dust as the wheels touched down today. Instead the tires threw up sprays of rainwater.

  The plane rolled up in front of the terminal, stopped and the stairs descended. I waited, tugging on the button of my blazer. Finally, after a long moment, a man appeared, a large battered cardboard box under his arm. He struggled toward the terminal and I hurried to open the door.

  “Thanks, miss. Are you...” He juggled the box, trying to see the rain-spattered form on a clipboard he had wedged under his arm. I reached forward, sliding the board out from beneath his arm. I held it up in front of him.

  “Thanks. Claire Latham?”

  “No. I’m Dana Marshall. I called and arranged the flight. I’m with the wedding planner.”

  “I need a signature.” He wrestled the box onto a nearby chair. “You can sign, confirming
delivery.”

  I took the clipboard, signing the rain-spattered form where he pointed. I handed it back and he tore off a copy for me. I watched him run back through the rain to the waiting plane. The stairs retracted and the plane turned around, gaining speed as it went down the runway. Then it was airborne and gone.

  “I’ll put this in the cart.” James had the box and he carried it out the door. I hurried after him.

  “Thanks. And could I ask a favor?”

  “Sure. What is it?”

  “Vienna’s cart is charging. Could someone drive it to the main villa for her? I think she’ll need it.”

  “I’ll see to it.”

  The rain was falling harder now and I ducked beneath the roof of the cart. James waved and ran back into the building.

  I tried to raise Vienna on my mic, but there was just static. She’d wanted to deliver the dress to Claire herself, but I was much closer to Claire’s villa than the main villa, where I’d left Vienna. I tried her again, but there was just static.

  The sign for the Bliss Villa appeared and I turned down the path. The rain was falling steadily now and I parked as close as I could to the villa steps. There was no way I could handle the box and the umbrella, so I bundled the box in my arms and carried it up the steps.

  I knocked and there was a muffled noise from inside. I shifted the box in my arms, waiting for several minutes before the door opened.

  Mrs. Latham stood in the doorway, arrow straight and dressed in a cream suit. Claire was behind her, dressed in a silky robe.

  “Well, don’t just stand there in the rain. Come in.” She swept the door open and I stepped into the room.

  “Finally. My dress...” Claire came forward, hands grabbing at the end of the box. I stumbled forward and we managed to set the box on the couch.

  “Claire, please.”

  “Mother, it’s my dress.” There was a petulant tone in her voice and I thought back to the scene in the terminal, the tears in front of her mother.

  “I can see that. You’re acting...”

 

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