SUNLOUNGER 2: Beach Read Bliss (Sunlounger Stories)

by Belinda Jones

  Nathan grabbed a slice of toast from the tray, leaving the rest of the food untouched.

  ‘Are you ready?’ he asked, those blue eyes twinkling. ‘Let’s go find me a house.’

  *

  ‘It’s stunning,’ Emily breathed. She’d seen some exceptional properties during her time with Elliott Jones International, but London had nothing like this.

  She was currently standing in front of twelve-foot high floor-to-ceiling glass windows, and the view stretching out in front of her was like something from a movie. A vast infinity pool, with a hot tub at one end and a fire pit at the other, led way to a minimalist Japanese-style garden, all trickling water and zen-like stones. Far in the distance lay the chaos of downtown LA, with its grid plan of houses and bumper-to-bumper traffic, but up here in the mountains it was completely peaceful.

  Nathan came to stand beside her, resting a hand casually on the small of her back.

  ‘Beautiful,’ he murmured, his voice husky and low. Emily got the distinct impression that he wasn’t just talking about the view. She could feel the warmth of his hand burning through the thin fabric of her blouse, and she fought to stay focused.

  ‘Apparently the house has been used to film various music videos – including Coldplay and Taylor Swift – and as the backdrop for shoots by Vogue, W and GQ, amongst others,’ Emily managed.

  ‘Well read,’ Nathan teased, indicating the iPad she was clutching. He moved away and Emily instantly missed the feel of his hand on her body. She turned to watch him stroll casually through the open-plan room, glancing around as he took in the sleek white walls and ultra-modern decoration.

  ‘How much is it again?’

  ‘Eight point two,’ Emily replied, without blinking.

  ‘Eight point two million dollars,’ Nathan repeated. He stared thoughtfully into the distance, before walking towards the kitchen and opening the fridge. ‘Diet Coke. Perfect! Would you like one?’ he asked, taking out a can and cracking it open.

  Emily slowly shook her head, wondering if she’d misunderstood.

  Nathan shrugged, tilting back his head and taking long, slow gulps. He crushed the empty can in his fist then looked back inside the fridge. ‘I’m starving. I really should have eaten more for breakfast.’

  As Emily watched, Nathan began pulling out ingredients, slicing two thick wedges of bread on the countertop, and slathering them thickly with mayonnaise. He added salami and salad, then took a large bite.

  ‘Mr Scott, I’m not sure you should…’ Emily trailed off, unsure what to say. She didn’t want to upset him – Charles’ words were still ringing in her ears – but she didn’t think the owners would be too happy when they came home to find their cupboards had been plundered.

  Nathan looked up, feigning surprise. ‘You’re probably right,’ he agreed, dropping the sandwich into the trash can. ‘This is way off my diet plan. My nutritionist would have a fit if she saw me.’

  Emily narrowed her eyes, confusion written across her features. ‘That wasn’t what I… Never mind. Perhaps we should take a look at the bedrooms now?’

  ‘Now there’s an offer I can’t refuse,’ Nathan winked.

  The mezzanine level boasted the same enormous glass windows and panoramic views as the downstairs, with the master bedroom set up to fully take advantage of the house’s stunning location. A sixty-foot plasma screen hung from the wall, whilst in the centre of the room sat the largest bed that Emily had ever seen, bigger even than her California King back at the hotel.

  Nathan threw himself down on it, stretching out appreciatively. ‘Nice,’ he commented, letting his hands roam over the smooth silk of the sheets, before laying back against the pillows and patting the space beside him. ‘Care to join me? We could test it out together…’

  Emily stared at him, unsure how to respond. She was used to clients hitting on her, but they were usually married, or ugly, or complete assholes. Nathan Scott was none of these things. In fact, he was one of the best looking men she’d ever laid eyes on and the sexual chemistry between them was off the scale.

  Finally, she laughed, breaking the tension. ‘Let’s go check out the gym. Maybe you could work off some excess energy in there.’

  And she pretended not to notice the look of disappointment in Nathan’s eyes as he climbed off the bed and dutifully followed her back through the house.

  *

  Nathan’s behaviour didn’t get any better at the next property they looked at – a Mediterranean-style villa just off Sunset Boulevard, belonging to a late-night talk show host and his TV actress wife.

  Nathan insisted on going to see the pool first.

  ‘We’re from dreary old England, we need our vitamin D boost,’ he insisted, taking hold of her hand and pulling her through the lush, landscaped gardens. The kidney-shaped pool shimmered in the dazzling sunshine, and Nathan flopped down on a nearby sunlounger, indicating that Emily should do the same.

  ‘So did you like the last property?’ she ventured.

  ‘Yeah, it was incredible,’ Nathan replied. His eyes were closed, his face turned up to the sun.

  Emily’s heart began to beat faster at the prospect of making a sale. Eight point two million! She could have the deal tied up and be back in London by tomorrow.

  ‘I’m not sure it was right for me though,’ Nathan continued, and Emily felt a stab of frustration. Maybe it wouldn’t be so easy after all.

  ‘I can’t believe how hot it is today,’ Nathan changed the subject, as he sat up and pulled his shirt over his head, his muscles rippling and flexing. ‘You don’t mind, do you?’

  Emily swallowed. ‘Not at all,’ she replied honestly, trying to tear her eyes away from his magnificent body. Nathan lay back down, clasping his hands behind his head in a move which emphasised his broad shoulders, and Emily found herself wondering what the hell was going on with him. She’d dealt with some demanding, capricious clients in her time, but Nathan Scott was on another level. He was behaving exactly as he pleased, seemingly answerable to no one, and treating these houses as though he already owned them.

  As if to prove her point, he stood up and began unbuttoning his jeans.

  ‘What are you doing?’ Emily asked in alarm.

  ‘I need to cool off.’

  Nathan stepped out of his trousers to reveal a pair of snug-fitting Armani pants, before striding over to the pool and executing a neat dive. His powerful arms ploughed through the water, swimming almost the full length of the pool before he finally surfaced, blinking the water out of his eyes. He turned to face Emily and grinned, amused by the stunned look on her face.

  ‘Come on in, the water’s lovely!’

  ‘We’re supposed to be looking at the property, not taking a refreshing dip!’ Emily protested, unable to hide her exasperation.

  ‘I have to check out all the facilities, don’t I? Now, are you coming in, or do I have to come and get you?’

  Emily laughed in disbelief. ‘I’ll be waiting for you back at the house.’

  She’d barely started back up the path before she heard footsteps behind her. The next moment, a pair of strong hands encircled her waist and her world turned upside down, as Nathan picked her up and threw her over his shoulder in one smooth movement.

  Emily let out a shriek as she saw they were heading back towards the pool. ‘Don’t you dare! Put me down right now, Mr Scott,’ she demanded, undermining her argument by collapsing into giggles.

  ‘Don’t think I wasn’t tempted,’ Nathan growled, as he gently placed her back on solid ground. ‘And like I told you last night,’ he continued, his voice softer now. ‘It’s Nathan, not Mr Scott.’

  ‘Okay,’ Emily agreed, flushing under his gaze. She felt giddy and light-headed – something which she wasn’t entirely sure could be attributed to being flung upside down.

  Without saying another word, Nathan grabbed his clothes and stalked off towards the house, leaving wet footprints on the tiled floor of the kitchen as he passed through. Emily followed him up
the stairs, watching in disbelief as he strolled into the first bathroom he came across and grabbed a fluffy white towel from the rail. He hooked his thumbs into his underpants, about to slide them off, when he turned and noticed Emily standing in the doorway.

  ‘You can join me if you like. It’s easily big enough for two,’ Nathan grinned, nodding towards the huge walk-in wet room.

  Emily felt her cheeks grow hot; she’d followed him on autopilot, not realising what he was about to do.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she apologised, hastily backing out. ‘I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be… I’ll be outside.’

  She scuttled off, mortified, her cheeks flaming as she fled along the corridor. Her breathing was coming fast as she paused at the top of the sweeping staircase, desperately trying not to think about the fact that barely metres away from her, Nathan Scott was naked and wet, the water spilling over him, drenching that rock hard body…

  Stop it! She told herself sharply.

  She had to get a grip on herself. And what on earth was she doing, letting him take a shower in a client’s home? She’d never had anyone behave like this before. But then again, Nathan Scott was a law unto himself. Emily supposed that came with the territory when you were a world famous celebrity – surrounded by all those yes men, with no one daring to say no. She would have to call the LA office as soon as she got chance, ask if someone could come by afterwards and clean up the kitchen, make sure the towels were put away and—

  ‘Hey Emily,’ Nathan’s voice jolted her out of her daydreams. ‘Come here. Look at this.’

  Emily swallowed, wondering what he could possibly have to show her. She wondered if he was dressed…

  ‘I’m on my way.’

  ‘Through here,’ came a muffled shout. Emily followed the sound of Nathan’s voice, heading through the master bedroom into a huge walk-in closet.

  ‘Wow,’ Emily exclaimed, sounding awestruck. The closet was bigger than her entire flat back in London, and beautifully furnished in dark mahogany with a marble-topped dresser in the centre. She stared around her, overwhelmed by the displays of Louboutin shoes, Hermès bags, and Gucci dresses.

  Then Nathan emerged, smiling like he’d won the lottery. ‘Well, what do you think? It’s Tom Ford, and the shirt’s Savile Row. Fits me well, doesn’t it?’

  Emily’s first thought was that Nathan looked sexy as hell – like James Bond, in a sleek black tux and crisp, white shirt. Her second thought left her reeling, as she suddenly realised that the clothes Nathan was wearing weren’t his! He’d clearly picked them out of the closet, and was treating this like a costume fitting.

  ‘Nathan, you can’t… You can’t do that…’ Emily faltered.

  ‘What? Oh, it’s no big deal. No one will ever find out.’ He took a step closer, so close that Emily could smell the delicious, clean scent of him, fresh from the shower. ‘What’s the matter? Aren’t you up for a bit of fun?’

  ‘Take them off, right now,’ Emily demanded.

  But Nathan only grinned infuriatingly. ‘Trying to get me naked again?’

  ‘Oh, you’re impossible!’

  ‘Where’s the harm?’ Nathan protested. ‘And look, I found this for you. Isn’t it gorgeous?’ He pulled out a gown from one of the rails, draping it invitingly across his arm. ‘Atelier Versace.’ His voice was low and seductive. ‘Fit for a goddess.’

  The dress was undoubtedly stunning – a floor length sheath made from a fine silver mesh that shone like diamonds in the light. Emily knew it probably cost more than her annual salary. She took a step backwards.

  ‘All right, you don’t have to try it on,’ Nathan sighed. ‘I just thought it would look ravishing on you.’ He held the dress up against her and, in spite of herself, Emily glanced at her reflection. Nathan was right; the colour looked stunning against her complexion, the dress transforming her into something extraordinary.

  Unwittingly, Emily reached out to stroke the soft fabric, so silky and fluid in her hands. She imagined the way it would flow over her body, fitting her like a second skin as it settled around her soft curves…

  But it was impossible, Emily realised. This was a dress for a Hollywood star – not an estate agent from London.

  ‘Hang it back where you found it please,’ she told Nathan calmly.

  His face dropped, but he did as he was told. ‘You were tempted though, weren’t you?’

  ‘Nathan,’ Emily sighed, unable to keep the frustration out of her voice. ‘We don’t have time for all this. We’ve got the rest of the house to see. Or are you just wasting my time?’

  The words were out before she could stop them. Nathan recoiled as if he’d been stung.

  ‘Aren’t you having fun? You’re not enjoying my company?’

  ‘I’m here to sell a house,’ Emily explained gently. ‘You’re here to buy one.’

  Nathan looked thoughtful as he hung the dress back in the closet, slipping off the dinner jacket he was wearing.

  ‘Alright,’ he said finally. ‘Sell it to me.’

  *

  Once again, Emily was experiencing the nagging sensation that she needed to pinch herself; that right now she was deep in some delicious dream from which she might wake up at any moment.

  She was currently at the Skybar, the rooftop terrace at the Mondrian Hotel on Sunset, at a party thrown by Esquire magazine which Nathan had insisted they attend. In truth, Emily had been exhausted by another day of fruitless house hunting; the jet lag was kicking in, and she’d hoped for a quiet night. But Nathan wanted to go out, and he wanted Emily to come with him – and, as usual, Nathan got what Nathan wanted.

  They’d enjoyed a delicious dinner at The Ivy, where they’d finally found time to talk – about Emily’s job, her ambitions, her single status, Nathan’s career and messy divorce. There’d undoubtedly been a spark between them, an undeniable connection, and by the time they got to the Mondrian, Emily was walking on air.

  The party itself was like nothing she had ever experienced, packed full of celebrities and LA socialites. Finally, amongst all the madness, Emily had found a moment to breathe, accepting a pomegranate martini from a passing waiter and heading to a quiet spot where she could admire the views over the City of Angels. The night air was balmy, a handful of stars twinkling in the hazy sky. She felt an arm snaking around her waist and turned to see Nathan.

  ‘Having a good time?’ he asked.

  Emily caught her breath at how handsome he looked, in a crisp white shirt that showed off his bronzed chest, dark blue chinos and a linen jacket which she had a horrible suspicion she’d seen hanging in the closet earlier.

  ‘It’s amazing,’ she told him honestly. ‘But I think I need to go back to the hotel soon. I’m exhausted.’

  She didn’t even want to think about tomorrow and what would inevitably be another day of traipsing around immaculate properties in which Nathan seemed to have little interest, trying to stop him from trashing them or helping himself to whatever he chose.

  ‘You stay here and enjoy yourself,’ she insisted. ‘I’ll get a taxi back.’

  Nathan shook his head. ‘I’ll come with you. Just give me a few moments to say goodbye.’

  They made one final round of the party as Nathan back-clapped the men and air-kissed the women, who eyed Emily with a mixture of curiosity and jealously.

  She sighed with relief as they made their way outside and into the back of a waiting car, able to relax for the first time that day.

  ‘Do you mind getting this?’ Nathan asked, as they pulled up outside the iconic Beverly Wilshire, its impressive facade dominating the street. ‘I don’t have any cash on me.’

  Too tired to protest, Emily used Charles Maloney’s money to pay the fare. Nathan helped her out of the car, chivalrously taking hold of her bag. They rode up in the elevator in silence, the tension between them mounting. By the time they stepped out, Emily didn’t know where to look.

  ‘Thanks for a lovely night. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  She went
to move away, but Nathan reached out and caught her by the wrist. She stared up at him, her eyes wide, her pulse racing. Then he bent down towards her, his lips brushing softly against her cheek. ‘Goodnight Emily.’

  Emily pulled her wrist free, then turned and fled. She was in big trouble here and she knew it. She was falling for a client. And not just any client – Nathan Scott, Hollywood A-lister and womaniser extraordinaire. She almost ran down the corridor in her eagerness to get away from him, but it was only once she arrived outside her room that she realised – Nathan still had her handbag, with her key card.

  ‘Shit,’ Emily swore out loud. She could go down to reception, she realised, get a replacement card and retrieve her bag in the morning. But her iPad was in there, her mobile phone, everything she needed…

  Emily bit her lip and turned around, retracing her steps along the corridor until she found herself outside Nathan’s room. She knocked softly.

  ‘I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist,’ Nathan greeted her, his blue eyes dancing.

  ‘You have my bag,’ Emily informed him, her heart hammering so loudly she felt sure he must be able to hear. ‘I need it.’

  Nathan gestured for her to come inside and Emily entered, making a beeline for her bag which was sitting on the coffee table. But as she turned to leave, Nathan called out to her.

  ‘Fancy a nightcap?’ He was over by the bar area, holding up a bottle of Belvedere vodka.

  Emily hesitated, just a fraction too long. ‘I’ve had enough for one night, Nathan. And anyway, we have to be up early again tomorrow.’

  ‘No, we don’t,’ Nathan disagreed. ‘I’m the client, and I get to say what time we get up. And I get to say that I really really want you to stay and have a drink with me.’

  Emily knew when she was beaten; like Nathan said, he was holding all the cards. Not to mention the fact that the thing she wanted most in the world right now was to hang out with Nathan Scott, the hottest, sexiest, most charming man she’d ever met.