Snow had fallen gently a little each night before he left. As a kid, he’d stuck his tongue out to catch tiny cold flakes.
He imagined kissing Laney passionately under the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree with snow falling all around them, flakes sneaking on their tongues. He gripped the railing as the feeling of her in his arms felt so real it damn near knocked him over. Like it wasn’t just a wish, but a goddamn premonition. He saw it. Saw her. Saw the sparkle of colors all around her. Nothing could dull her shine.
Man, how he wanted that fantasy to come true. So why had he pushed her to find Jonathan? Thinking of Laney trying to get Jon into bed, aggressively, not sitting on the sidelines, passively hoping to get his attention by flipping her hair, bothered him. There was no way that idiot would deny her.
He was the idiot.
He left his cabin avoiding hers down the hall by taking the stairs to the right. After casually strolling by every shop Laney had mentioned the past few days, makeup, fragrance, shoes, and of course, chocolate, he broke down and admitted he was looking for her. He’d spun around and got caught up in his own feet, almost crashing to the cement floor.
Get a grip, man.
No, Tristan couldn’t handle Laney getting with Jonathan. He needed to be somewhere else.
orgy at the lighthouse
Right. He’d almost forgotten. And Cass put him on the spot to say yes. Shit.
He’d been pushing Laney to sleep with Jonathan, all the while dragging his size thirteens when it came to getting with someone. That’s why he was here, damn it.
In the sundry shop, he booked the morning tour of the island’s biggest lighthouse, a fifteen-minute bus ride down the coast.
“Here you go, Mr. Hart.” The tour operator handed him his credit card and receipt. “You got one of the last seats on the bus.”
“Thank you.” He put his wallet away and ambled toward the lobby.
The bounce of the gangplank wrenched him back to the moment he saw Laney boarding the ship. That was...four days ago. Four days and a woman had infected his mind. Tunneled into his heart. Cursing, he hurried off and went looking for the tour buses.
After confirming with the information dude which bus went to the lighthouse, Tristan slowly made his way over.
A group of people meandered in front of him. He considered annexing himself to them for appearances. To blend in. So many women had already turned around to gawk at him, though, some tripping over themselves. Tristan never blended in well.
A deep breath later, and a few swear words for not putting on sunscreen, he lingered at the back of the tour bus line. As much as Tristan liked his expensive business suits, his cargo shorts and golf shirt today made him feel gloriously free. Free to just be a guy. Not a billionaire.
What in the world would he do with all that cash?
Running The Sterling had made him, Luke, and Gray plenty of money and if they kept the place, more billions would roll in. Tristan was convinced more than ever, thanks to Laney’s encouragement, they shouldn’t sell. He practiced his argument with Luke, the shark lawyer, as he handed over his tour ticket.
There were too many people on the bus to take in any one face. He was one of the last to board and settled into the first open seat. Thankfully, it was on the aisle and he didn’t have to climb over anyone. In the window seat, a greasy-haired teenager stared at his phone. The couple in front of Tristan kept looking back. Must be his parents, Tristan thought.
Poor kid. Dragged on this kind of vacation with Mom and Dad. Then again, his parents had never taken them anywhere. His father had traveled all the time, but left the wife and kids at home. Sometimes without any money. He wondered if that motivated Luke to grab the billion and run. At least Tristan had known his father, unlike poor Laney.
Settled in his seat, Tristan shook those thoughts away. Most of the people around him smiled and looked relaxed while his body stayed tense.
“Tris!” a voice called out to him from several rows back, sending ice down his spine.
Cass.
He considered not turning around, but to avoid a scene, he twisted his body in the seat, knowing his super long legs were probably in the teenager’s personal space. He expected the pimple-faced kid to spit out: Gawd. Nothing, though, the kid stayed in his own little world. Good. Tristan didn’t want to tangle with a parent.
Cass blew him a kiss while her posse waved him over to the empty seat next to her. A bump in the road accentuated her protruding breasts as they flopped beneath her loose maxi dress.
In the early years, he’d have gone running like a puppy, tail wagging, tongue dangling out of the side of his mouth. Tristan had been crowned the alpha and now this dog ran to no one. Not to mention he wanted something else.
In the rows behind her, guys gawked at Cass’s devil-woman squad. Some had even started making out. Great. Next time, they needed to hire private transportation. Damn horny devils shouldn’t be on a bus with children.
With a sixty-percent smile, he shook his head at Cass, thankful his rolling eyes stayed hidden behind shades. Turning back around, he caught a hint of glossy sable hair. Two rows back on the left, a woman sat in the aisle seat. She leaned into someone and pointed at the road. Under a wide-brim straw hat with a bright orange ribbon, she kept her face even. Long ripe peachy legs disappeared under a short floral skirt.
Laney! And next to her—his heart stopped—Jonathan. She did it, she got him. Got him to go on a tour. To. The. Lighthouse. Or, was it the other way around? No! No! No! His heart jumped into his throat.
Sweaty, writhing bodies, two on ones, all with poor Laney watching made his rage bounce around his head like a pinball. When metal hit metal, a nerve sparked and his shoulders twitched. Gasping, he twisted back around.
Dear God, Laney sat there, all innocent, not knowing what her precious eyes were about to see. Shit she couldn’t un-see.
She’s going to kill me.
When the bus stopped, Tristan had to make a decision. He wanted to warn Laney, but the second Jon saw Tris interested in her, the man would pounce. He trusted Laney wouldn’t go for a fucking orgy. Curiosity was murdering his inner cat, dying to know how she ended up on this damn bus, anyway.
Had she knocked on Jonathan’s cabin door, offered to have sex with him, and he said: not here, I’d rather share you with ten men? Fuck, she had no idea what was about to happen.
Jonathan fidgeted in his seat like the dickhead was nervous. Had Laney ambushed him on this tour? Now Tristan almost laughed out loud. Horny Jon jumped on that bus preparing to roll around with a dozen women and sweet little Laney climbed in the seat next to him.
Tristan’s stomach settled, but he’d keep an eye on Laney. Keep her away from the damn tower. Drag her out of there, if he had to. This wasn’t what he had in mind when he encouraged her to go for it.
Following the polite protocol, people on the bus emptied out one row at a time.
“Excuse me. Move it.” Cass’s snapping made him cringe. Fuck all, so much for polite. “I said move.”
Tristan somehow knew Cass was talking to Laney.
Shit, what to do? His blood boiled at the idea of anyone messing with her. The immature jerk on his shoulder, however, screamed: Girl Fight.
Thankfully, the crowd moved quickly and Tristan left the bus. With everyone else off, too, Laney would no longer be in Cass’s lane blocking her and hopefully, out of her warpath.
Using his inability to blend in to his advantage, he spun in a dramatic turn and headed toward the lighthouse entrance. He would dangle himself as bait if it kept Cass away from Laney.
“We’re doing our thing in the basement.” Cass caught up to him. Bingo.
“Uh-huh,” he said, marching straight ahead.
“If you’re playing hard to get, I like it.” She hustled to keep up. “I just wish you gave me a heads-up this was how it was going down this year.”
“I’m not playing a game.” He kept walking. “I’ve got things on my mind.”
“Use your brain another week, Tris.” Cass grabbed his arm, but he snapped it away. “Sheesh, what is with you?”
Knowing Laney could see him, he had to shut her down immediately. He stopped and forced his eyes to stay on Cass. One look at Laney and he’d be a puddle. “Listen, I changed my mind. I’m not going into the tower, at all. I don’t care where you guys do your... I’m just not into this right now.”
“Because of someone else?” Her chin flicked to the left.
Don’t look. Don’t look.
“I asked around, Tris. You haven’t hooked up with anyone yet. What gives?”
“Maybe...this isn’t for me anymore.”
Cass barked a throaty laugh. “So says the man who screwed women in the pool.”
“That was years ago.” Ugh, he’d forgotten about that.
That jerk couldn’t have been further away at the moment. He’d grown up. Matured. Or did Laney have something to do with his hesitations?
“I’d like to get some fresh air. If I want you, I know where to find you. Please back the hell off, Cass.”
“It’s Cassandra, Tristan.” She slid up against him. “I can call you whatever you want.”
He pitched his shoulders back. “We all made a pact years ago. No real names. That’s the whole point of this place. It doesn’t matter...” He stalked off.
He was done with everything. If he let Luke have his way with the sale of the hotel, a year from now, he could buy an island and sit on a beach by himself.
Only he wanted a damn straw hat with an orange ribbon sitting next to him.
Pushing away that impossible dream and guilt for being rude to Cass, he strolled up the path to the lighthouse. A cement fence once painted bright white, now looked spotty and worn. The view of the ocean from the top balcony in the lighthouse tower would be spectacular, but he wasn’t going in there.
A glance at the crowd waiting in line for the tower didn’t reveal the straw hat or an orange ribbon. Tristan exhaled, grateful for a moment to get his shit together. After studying the property map, he spotted a southern exit leading to the water. Resetting the game, he snuck out under an archway and despite his whirling mind, the breathtaking span of the ocean pleased his brain. The water stretched to the horizon with streaks of three different shades of white in the clouds above. The contrasting colors looked so vibrant against a blanket of bright blue. The immediate association to the color of Laney’s eyes took his breath away.
Right before the ground curved down to the shoreline, weathered benches lined up. Despite just getting off the bus, Tristan loved the idea of sitting down and living in that one moment. He closed his eyes and lost track of how long he’d been there when a pleasant whiff of sweet coconut spun him around.
Laney.
He freaking hoped she would peek out from behind one of the trees. He’d grab her and take her right on the damn bench considering how wound up he was.
Nothing.
What. The. Fuck?
Get your shit together, man.
Shaking his head, he glanced up at the lighthouse tower. From a Juliet balcony near the top, he caught dark glossy hair blowing the breeze. Laney and Jonathan were in the tower!
Oh no.
Her glorious laughing smile that always reached her eyes got to him. Except with shades on, it was impossible to tell if she was just play-acting. She had to be, right? She’d all but admitted she didn’t have real feelings for the asshole. She was playing a game.
His game.
She wanted in.
And he’d let her in.
I’m an idiot.
Even the simple way she pointed to the ocean was a picture of grace and confidence. She was...talking to Jonathan about something. Their body language, however, didn’t have a sexual vibe to it. And they weren’t in the basement. Thank fuck.
Still, he had to break up whatever this game was, right now. He’d gladly surrender to her. Tristan put his long legs to use and made a run for it. With his speed, he’d get to the base of the lighthouse tower before she and Jonathan made it down the stairs. And get anywhere near the door that led to the basement.
Back in the courtyard, he eyed the entrance as he hiked over. A few stragglers wandered out of the tower. Not Laney. And not Jonathan. No half-naked devils, either. Whew.
He checked his watch quickly. The bus made a few trips back to the ship throughout the day. The next one would leave in five minutes. He and Laney could be back on the ship in twenty. Naked. Sweaty. He could be inside her in less than thirty minutes. He was hers. He’d give her a different kind of victory lap, riding his cock.
Getting his breath in check, he couldn’t bear waiting for Laney and Jonathan to come out of the tower. He ran in to get her. Inside, he climbed the narrow metal staircase twisted in a mind-bending spiral, taking rickety steps two, even three at a time. Preparing to grab her, he jumped onto the balcony she and Jonathan were on just a few moments ago.
Only... There wasn’t anyone there.
What the hell?
Oh no, had they gotten down to the main level and...gone into the basement?
He rushed down the steps and to his relief saw Laney and her boss at the bus stop and not coming from the basement. But they were headed back to the ship. Why? To do what?
Uh-oh.
The bus stop was at least two hundred feet away. He took off in a furious burst of speed while his heart hammered against his chest. With sweat in his eyes, he focused on his watch, missed a crack in the sidewalk, and almost went flying. Running through the courtyard, he watched the bus lumber away from the designated parking spot. The waft of diesel pumped against the warm salty air and puffs of black smoke sputtered from the tailpipe. Tristan considered screaming, but a billionaire didn’t do that.
You’re polished and classy. His angel who’d said those words appeared at the back of the bus. Smiling. Waving.
The next bus back to the ship wasn’t leaving for another hour.
Laney
LANEY SAT BACK IN HER squeaky bus seat and smiled. “I can handle anything, my ass,” she mumbled.
“Handle what?” Jonathan asked.
“Nothing.”
“So, can we make this happen?” He leaned into her.
For years those green eyes had hit the spot low in her tummy whenever he gazed at her. Mr. Charm. Now, there wasn’t much happening anywhere on her body when she looked at Jonathan.
Still, she said, “I’m thinking about it.”
“Laney, come on.” His suave voice crawled all over her. “You know we need this.”
She stared at him. Lean in for a kiss and get your commission, dummy. Nothing.
When he’d noticed her on the bus line earlier, his face had lit up. He charged right for her, took her by the arm, and said, “I’m so glad you’re here.”
But her heart had quickly felt heavy and sank thinking she’d done it, she won. And maybe, just maybe, she’d have to do something about it. Then he’d pulled out his phone and rattled off the production schedule for the deal she’d been holding up. Business, the idiot had wanted to talk business. Her shoulders melting away from her ears had felt gloriously relaxing.
Why? Because she just didn’t want him anymore. Only, she’d been on that bus heading away from the ship when she realized that. She’d paid for the tour and figured why not enjoy the scenery? She’d not expected to see Tristan. That was just a bonus.
A twofer,
“We can maybe make this work,” she said, taking off her hat and smoothed out her hair. “I just don’t like my designs bastardized like this.”
“Brock needs to post a strong fourth-quarter profit.” Jonathan’s body had gone stiff, anger humming off his skin. He’d never acted mean or piffy with her. He’d always been sweet and flirty.
Because she was his cash cow. Stupid. She held up one deal and the real Jonathan, the jerk, crashed through. She also took away his chance for some fun with all the fire pins headed toward the lighthouse’s basement. He’d lic
ked his lips hungrily as they passed each one, smiling at him.
“I dragged you into the tower to show you the cobalt blue ocean and emphasize what color means to me.” Laney figured she’d get it all off her chest. “Brock’s new mill in China is dulling the heck out of my textiles. I stalked you on this tour so you can see what I see when I design our fabrics, how the colors appear to me in my head. The samples from that new mill are not up to my standards.”
“Hey, you design the fabrics and I sell them. That’s been our deal for years. Leave well enough alone, all right. Don’t cloud me up with your creative needs.” He folded his arms and leaned toward the window.
Laney exhaled, realizing Jonathan would never see her as anything other than his little designer. The source of his wealth. He had so many people to screw on that boat, he wasn’t going to tip over his applecart by messing with her.
At least she’d finally gotten her answer. The wild zing of freedom rushed through her. Fast and hot. Man, she wanted Tristan. She could be his little plaything because it was safe and conflict-free.
“I’ll have Nikki print out a copy of the strike-offs,” Laney said to finish this pathetic conversation since the approvals were still dangling out there.
She and Jonathan sat in silence for the rest of the ride back to the ship and when the bus returned to the dock, he fled not even looking back at her.
Asshole.
In the ship’s lobby, Laney leered at every woman’s collarbone. Within five minutes a petite redhead stumbled by looking disheveled and wearing a fire pin. Bingo! Tristan certainly had the power to wear a woman out like that. But she’d left him at the lighthouse. Thank goodness for small favors.
Laney explained her situation to the redhead and the woman couldn’t tear the pin off her shirt fast enough.
Tristan would be back in less than an hour. Operation: Drive Tristan Insane got into full swing.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Tristan
It killed Tristan, but he made the gut-wrenching move to find a woman in his group and...blow off steam. Thoughts of Laney with Jonathan had tortured his mind for hours. After what he’d shared with her, discovering the sweet body under those conservative clothes, nothing short of replacing all of that with another woman would help.
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