by Tina Folsom
“And he didn’t. Now the house is all yours—”
She interrupted Francesca. “The bank’s actually—the inheritance taxes are killing me. With that huge mortgage I had to take out just to pay the taxes, I don’t have any choice but to make the place into a Bed and Breakfast. What else am I supposed to do? Sell it?”
“That’s an idea.”
“No, Francesca, not an option. I won’t give up the house. That’s all I have.” It was her home and the only thing left that reminded her of her parents. “I’ve really checked this out. I’ve run all the numbers, done my due diligence. The business plan is solid. If it wasn’t, the bank would have never given me the loan to remodel. I’m telling you it’ll work.”
“Well, at least that way Michael will never get his hands on it.” Francesca downed the last of her fancy drink.
“Actually, he could.” Sophia still remembered her shock at hearing the words of Eleni’s will.
“How so?” Her friend gave her a confused look. “You inherited it. I sure hope you’re not putting him into your will.”
Sure, Sophia could be accused of being too good-natured, but stupid? No, nobody would ever call her that. She could take apart a business contract like a tenth-grader dissected a frog: with enough curiosity to make sure nothing escaped her. Even though she’d only taken a few contract and business law classes during college, she’d learned a thing or two. Enough to know when to hire a lawyer and when to handle things herself.
“Well, it’s not actually something I can control. Eleni’s will had a contingency clause. It’s a family thing.” Sophia cut her friend’s protest off in its infancy. “If anything happens to me without me having any children, he’s the contingent heir.”
Francesca let out a stifled gasp. “She can do that?”
Sophia nodded. She hadn’t liked hearing the clause when the will had been read to her and Michael a week after Eleni’s death. However, after discussions with her own attorney, she’d realized that fighting the will would cost her every penny she’d inherited.
“She can and she did. I guess family meant more to her than we all assumed. Even if it means my rotten cousin might get his hands on her money after all. Because me having children, as we both know, isn’t going to happen any time soon.”
As much as she wanted to have a family, she needed to be able to provide for one first. And that meant starting a viable business and putting the energy into it to make it work. Even if that meant putting children on hold for a few years. She still had more childbearing years left. At twenty-eight she wasn’t completely out of the game yet.
Francesca rolled her eyes. “It would help if you went on an occasional date or two.”
Sophia had no objection to dating whatsoever, only to the available dating material. And to go into a relationship just for the sake of not being alone anymore was just too pathetic. She was looking for Mr. Right, not Mr. Right-Now. Well, maybe looking was too strong a word. She wasn’t actively looking. Really, where would she find the time for it right now with all the things she had on her plate?
“I don’t need another lecture. I’ve told you already, as soon as the B&B is open, I’m turning a new leaf. I’ll be looking for a decent guy—real marriage material. You can quote me on that. Until then, I don’t have time to waste on dates with the kind of guys I’m likely to meet here.” As lonely as it was to go home to an empty house, she’d rather do that than date the wrong guy again. She’d learned her lesson.
“You can’t let your bad experiences hold you back for the rest of your life. I thought you were turning a new leaf.” Francesca gave a provocative flick of her wrist.
“I am. And neither Ralph nor Eric have anything to do with this.”
“Nor Simon, Mark, or Justin?” Francesca asked in a mocking tone. “Sure, if you say so.”
Sophia drew a big gulp from her drink. “What do you want, Francesca?”
Her friend leaned over the table. “I want you to acknowledge that you can’t judge all men with the same measure just because some jerks hurt you. It’s not fair.”
Sophia wanted to interrupt, but Francesca held up her hand. “No, I have to say this. I should have said it years ago. It’s time to wipe the slate clean. You have to give a guy a chance. Do yourself a favor and forget those idiots. They aren’t worth it.”
It was easier said than done. “I’m not like you, Francesca.”
“Sweetie, it happens to all of us. Do you think nobody’s ever cheated on me?”
Sophia shrugged her shoulders. “I know for a fact that none of your boyfriends ever traded you in for a better date for the prom just because you came down with a case of pimples.”
“Ralph was a cad, I give you that, but those pimples did look hideous.” Francesca tried to suppress her laughter.
Sophia couldn’t help but laugh herself. The whole thing had been ridiculous. And when her face had cleared up again a couple of weeks later, Ralph had promptly come crawling back.
But by that time she’d already realized how little substance there was to him. What had been important to him were appearances, and hers hadn’t fit into his perfect world. God forbid his prom photo would show his girlfriend with acne. So Sophia had decided that she’d never date another pretty boy like Ralph.
A few months later she’d fallen off that wagon—and dated yet another guy who was too handsome for his own good. The fact that Eric constantly basked in the admiring glow of other women and was a hawk for compliments wasn’t even the worst. The problem was he felt that every equally beautiful woman should have a piece of his perfect body. By the time Sophia had caught onto his philandering, her beau had gotten so used to his ways that he felt there was absolutely nothing wrong with what he was doing.
After a while a pattern had started to emerge—the better looking the man, the more disastrously the relationship would turn out. Could she help it that she liked a man with a great physique and a handsome face? For the first time, Sophia wondered whether that made her shallow. Was she lying to Francesca and to herself when she said she liked a man with a brain and some substance? Oh, rats, she was probably not any better than those guys. Nothing had really changed since high school. She still fell for any handsome face and would lick her battle wounds a few weeks later. Stupid!
“Trust me, I’ll never fall for another pretty boy,” Sophia promised, a promise she made more to herself than to Francesca.
As she looked at her friend, she suddenly noticed a change in her face. A flash of interest crossed her beautiful features. “Good, you’re on. So, let’s test your resistance on the next hot guy who walks in.” Francesca’s eyes were glued on the door.
Sophia lifted her chin. “Fine. I’ll prove to you that I’m not susceptible to a pretty face anymore. I’ve changed.”
“Oh, yummy,” Francesca murmured. “Here comes Sex on Legs.”
Sophia sat with her back to the door and couldn’t see who Francesca was referring to, but she wasn’t worried. “To you, any man who breathes is Sex on Legs. Not a big hurdle to clear.”
Francesca snorted and fanned herself. “So not true, and this one’s a real hunk. Don’t look now, but I think he’s headed this way.” She ran her hand through her hair. “Okay, here’s the plan. I’ll get his attention and then hand him over to you. How do I look?”
Sophia smiled. As always her best and oldest friend looked perfect. Her red hair was slightly wavy, and her face was enhanced with subtle make up. She looked perfectly natural and perfectly beautiful. “Gorgeous, as always.”
Sophia wasn’t even jealous or envious of her friend’s assets. Being the best friend of one of the most popular girls in high school and then in college had brought many benefits with it. But that wasn’t even the best of it. Francesca was as close to Sophia as any sister could have ever been.
“He’s looking at me.” Francesca continued her running commentary. “He’s definitely coming this way. Sophia, get ready.”
She’d never seen her f
riend this flustered. When it came to men, Francesca had plenty of experience and always played it cool. But the rose blush on her friend’s cheeks told her she was anything but cool. Sophia’s curiosity got the better of her. If anybody could make her friend blush, he had to have something very special.
Sophia swiveled on her stool and froze.
The tall blonde man was making his way through the crowd in a determined gait that reminded Sophia of a shopaholic heading for a Gucci bag on sale. He was mouthwateringly stunning.
She was so screwed!
If only Sophia’s brain would make the muscles in her jaw work, she might be able to appear unaffected by him. As it was, her mouth was gaping open like a school gate on graduation day, making her feel like a total dork.
The hunk was over six feet tall and, even hidden beneath a set of casual clothes, his body was displayed for all to see. With every step, the sinewy muscles of his chest flexed, stretching his polo shirt. But he was no bodybuilder. His physique looked too natural for it, as if he’d been sculpted like that.
Tanned. Hot. And on his way to their table, his gaze fixed on Francesca.
Sophia felt heat rise in her body and tried to fan herself with her hands. She hadn’t seen anything this enticing since she and Francesca had spent their first real vacation on a beach in Greece.
The heat in the club turned to stifling. She fanned herself even harder, and a second later she hit her glass with her hand and tipped it over. In a desperate attempt to keep it from spilling, she made matters worse. An errant ice cube flew out of the glass as she righted it and promptly landed in her cleavage. And there it sat, right where her new Victoria’s Secret bra pressed her perfectly formed but average-sized boobs together to display her assets in a more advantageous way.
Shit! Now she’d drawn attention to herself, which was the absolute last thing she’d wanted to do.
Sophia should have never listened to Francesca and instead gone with her high neckline shirt rather than the top that made her boobs almost spill over on top. She didn’t dare lift her head to see if the hunk had spotted her accident—she knew he had, and she was dying the slow death of embarrassment. Sophia tried to save what she could of her dignity and reached for the rapidly melting cube.
“May I?”
His deep melodic voice jolted her out of her action. She raised her head to look at the man and instantly felt her heart flutter. He stood only inches from her, his sandy blond hair in perfect contrast to his tanned face as if he spent hours in the sun each day. His piercing ocean blue eyes twinkled with mischief.
Before Sophia’s brain could even process what he’d asked her, his hand reached for the ice cube still lodged between her breasts and freed it. His fingers brushed against her exposed flesh, and she could have sworn she felt her skin sizzle at the touch.
Hypnotized, she watched him as he took the ice cube and made it disappear in his mouth.
“Mmm, refreshing,” he commented and swept his gaze over her body as if measuring her for a gown. No curve, no inch seemed to escape his perusal. If the heat rising into her head was any indication, she’d say she was blushing like an overly ripe tomato.
“Care to dance?” he asked.
No, she didn’t want to dance with him and feel those arms around her, those hands touching her. The further away she kept somebody like him, the better for her. And besides, the hunk had just proven her point: after heading straight for Francesca, he’d instantly changed gears as soon as his attention had been drawn to Sophia’s boobs because of her clumsy move. If that didn’t have shallow written all over it, she didn’t know what did.
“Of course, she wants to dance,” she heard Francesca answer for her.
Sophia instantly sent her friend a scolding look, but Francesca didn’t even look at her. She continued smiling at the hunk.
“Shall we, then?” he asked again and this time took her hand into his.
Every nerve in her body reacted to him as an electrical current swept through her. She realized instantly that resisting him would take every bit of energy she had. And she had to resist him. He was the type of guy who’d make her heart flutter, her pulse race, and eventually he’d hurt her. One look into his gorgeous eyes confirmed that he knew his charms were working on her. She’d seen this self satisfied look in men before. It told her that they were just in it for the conquest, that what she wanted or needed didn’t matter.
Only this time she wouldn’t fall for it, she promised herself as she let him lift her out of the chair.
Her feet found the floor as he set her down, but it might as well have been a cloud—that’s how dizzy she felt by his nearness. She fought the feeling by shaking her head.
His arm instantly went around her waist as he directed her toward the dance floor. His fingers pressed through the fabric of her top and only intensified the heat she felt radiating off him. Or was it the way he looked at her, with the intense look of a hunter eyeing his prey? Luckily, this prey knew what she was up against. His hunt wouldn’t succeed.
On the dance floor, he pulled her into a tight embrace. His thigh muscles rubbed against her with every move he made. The scent of ocean surrounded him, and she felt as if transported to the beach, the smell of sand, salt, and wind in the air.
Sophia felt her nervousness spread. Being so close to so much maleness in such an enticing package made her brain cells disintegrate into a gooey mess.
As he rocked them to the music, his hand came up to caress her neck, and a shiver raced down her spine. A moment later, he pulled her even closer and brushed his lips to her cheek.
Hell, the guy was a fast mover! She’d have to put him in his place before he got any ideas. She wouldn’t make this easy for him.
Even Ralph hadn’t gotten to first base until after the second date, despite his status as the high school’s quarterback and the stiff competition with one of the cheerleaders, which had put pressure on Sophia to put out. Sure, he’d been her first, but even these days she made men wait at least until the end of the evening before she would allow any kissing. And this guy wouldn’t even get this far, she swore. Not only did she have to prove this to herself, she was also keenly aware of Francesca watching them.
As she tried to push herself away, hoping to gain a bit of self-control over her raging hormones—and they were raging, all ten million of them—his lips hovered at her ear. His warm breath sent a shiver along her skin. When it reached her breasts, her nipples turned into hard little buds, aching as they chafed against her tight bra.
His voice was the softest whisper, but his line was as corny as they came. “You smell nice.”
Sophia had no response to his obvious come-on.
A moment later, his lips nibbled on her ear, then traveled lower, brushing against her neck which she—oh, so obligingly—tilted to give him better access. The tingling sensation that spread over her skin as he almost kissed her prevented her mouth from forming any coherent sentence.
She stiffened, trying to stop her body from reacting to him, and pulled back, bringing a little distance between them.
“Sorry, but you’re so tempting,” he apologized, but his eyes when he looked at her didn’t show any regret. Figured. “I’m normally not this forward, but you’re different.” There was a somewhat puzzled look on his face. “My name is Tr... Trent,” he stuttered.
“Sophia,” she replied curtly. No need to give him any more encouragement. By the looks of it, he didn’t need any.
“What a beautiful name. It’s Greek,” he commented and pulled her closer.
Warmth spread across her lower back as he pressed her against him. His body was hard and at the same time comforting. And totally sinful—if she interpreted the hard ridge pressed against her stomach correctly. She acknowledged the wetness in her panties even though she tried to ignore it at first. But his physical prowess was overwhelming and made her heart beat frantically.
By the time the music suddenly stopped, Sophia was grateful for the reprieve. Sh
e looked at him and noticed heated desire in his eyes. The look he gave her sent a tingling through her body that reached all the way into her womb.
Without a word, he led her back to her table and helped her onto her stool, easily lifting her with his hands on her waist.
“May I get you and your friend a fresh drink?” Trent asked.
“Piña Colada,” Francesca responded.
The hunk nodded without even looking at her. Instead he kept his eyes fixed on Sophia. “And for you?”
“S-same, please.” Damn, her voice sounded hoarse, and she knew exactly what she was coming down with: a severe case of lust. There was only one known remedy for it.
A remedy she was determined to ignore.
Chapter Four
Triton waved to the bartender. “Two Piña Coladas.”
Things were going better than he’d expected. The town Zeus had exiled him to turned out to be a bustling little place with more than its fair share of restaurants and bars, just the kind of places where beautiful women could be found in droves. He’d be back home in no time—without Dionysus’ stupid ideas.
Triton had been in the mortal world before, many times in fact, but most of his visits were confined to Europe. He knew how things worked on Earth—in theory that was. All gods did. If they didn’t, they were just plain ignorant, considering the tools of observation at their fingertips.
All his godly powers were gone—he knew, because he’d tried to teleport to another location and was unable to. Even conjuring up some minor items, such as a plate of food or a glass of wine, was outside his reach. Zeus had thought of everything. Luckily, Dionysus had provided him with money and the key to a bachelor pad he’d just acquired.