“Ask me in,” Vic whispered huskily. “You know you want to.”
He was right.
She did.
She wanted him desperately, but tomorrow morning she’d be in the same boat she’d been in yesterday. Or maybe even worse. Vic was dangerous. He was the kind of man she could fall for, lose her head over when practicality was needed here.
“I should go inside.” She pushed against his rock-hard chest and Vic released her.
“If that’s what you want.”
She didn’t dare look up at him, because he’d know it was a lie. So Miranda kept her head low and murmured, “Yes, it is.” Then she quickly used the card to let herself in the hotel room and immediately closed the door.
But not before she caught a glimpse of Vic’s stunned expression and his last words. “I’ll call you.”
* * *
Did Miranda really just close the door in his face? Vaughn stood staring at her hotel door in stunned disbelief. Was he losing his touch?
He’d felt her heat when he’d pressed her against him. Her body had reacted to his, instantly molding itself against his. She’d wanted him too, but for some damn reason she was denying herself—hell, the both of them—a night of mind-blowing sex. Because that was exactly what she would have had in store. He’d been nursing an erection on and off for half the night and that was just from a brush of his hand across her back, accidental foot play underneath the table or a look from Miranda from across the table. If he’d had all night with her, she wouldn’t have slept. He would have made sure to explore every inch of her body from head to toe.
But alas, he wasn’t getting that chance.
She’d closed the door, and if he wasn’t mistaken, locked it.
Was she locking it to keep herself from opening it or from letting him in?
Shaking his head, Vaughn headed to the elevators. He just couldn’t understand how he’d gotten his signals crossed. And what possessed him to say he’d call her? Maybe he should leave well enough alone and move on to greener pastures.
The elevator doors chimed and opened. Vaughn stepped inside.
As the doors closed, Vaughn knew he wouldn’t move on. Miranda Jensen had intrigued him and not many women did. And it wasn’t just the chase that had turned him on; he wanted to know more about her. Throughout the night, he realized they’d talked more about general topics than they had anything personal. Miranda had been cagey about revealing any personal details other than her name and job title, which made Vaughn’s antenna come on high alert. She may not be interested in his wealth, but she was certainly hiding something.
And Vaughn wanted to know what it was.
But more importantly, he wanted Miranda. And he would have her.
* * *
There was no trace of Vic Elliott. He didn’t exist.
After returning from the amazing dinner she’d shared with the man, Miranda had decided to Google him. Find out more about this mysterious stranger who had captured her attention since emerging from the sea. But she couldn’t find a single thing about him. There wasn’t a record of Vic anywhere online. She’d tried several spellings of his name, including using Victor, and still her results had been fruitless.
He’d lied to her about something as fundamental as who he was.
How could she have been so blind yet again?
Was she destined to be a loser when it came to picking the right man? It stung because Miranda was sure she’d seen something in Vic that was special, something that she’d never encountered before with the other men she’d dated. Over drinks and dinner, they’d shared true companionship, laughing and talking about a number of topics from sports to politics to religion. Though she was woefully out of her league when it came to sports. Instead, Vic hadn’t made her feel dumb or stupid and they’d even discussed catching a game.
Now she knew he’d been lying the entire time.
But had she been that open? No. But at least she’d given him her real name. If he wanted to find out more just as she was researching him, he could. If he was interested, but he couldn’t have been if he’d lied to her. He was probably married and had given her a fake name in the hopes she’d spend the night with him. And her traitorous body had wanted to. Oh how she wanted to indulge in all the desires of the flesh. His sinful flesh.
His hard, lean body had been made for a woman’s touch. Of that, Miranda was sure.
Except she wouldn’t be partaking because Vic, whatever his name, wasn’t hers. She sighed. It had been nice to wonder what if, if only for a little while.
* * *
The next morning, Vaughn was up with the birds. Images of the raven-haired beauty from the beach had dominated his dreams, causing him to toss and turn in his king-size bed. Eventually, he’d thrown back the covers and, after brushing his teeth and showering, donned an Elite wet suit and gone to the beach. He dove into the waves. Whenever he needed to clear his mind, surfing was a good cure-all. He could lose himself in the powerful forces of Mother Nature and forget whatever it was that ailed him such as a certain body part which ached to be released.
Vaughn couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an erection that had gone unsatisfied. Usually, when he was with a female, the night would come to its inevitable conclusion, him in the arms of a beautiful woman.
Not last night.
Miranda Jensen had rebuffed his advances, sending him home with a hard-on like some love-struck teenager. And it irked him. Not because she’d turned him down, which, although rare, could happen. He was rankled because he knew Miranda wanted him equally as much as he wanted her, but instead she’d made them both miserable by pushing him away. The question was why?
There had to be more to the story and he would find out.
Several hours later after returning home to shower, Vaughn drove to his office. Elite’s headquarters were located a few blocks away from La Jolla Shore’s beach. Most of his staff wore shorts, T-shirts and sneakers because Vaughn wanted a laid-back vibe at the office and found it made for productive workers. They appreciated not only the dress code, but the free healthy snacks catered by a local food truck, the coffee bar as well as a game and nap room onsite. He treated his employees well and consequently had their loyalty.
He greeted his assistant, Kindra, as he stopped by her desk. Kindra was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever met. She had a wholesome, all-American quality to her five-foot-five, blonde appearance. She was athletically built, wore no makeup and rarely had he seen her in anything other than a skirt, but she was the best help he’d ever found.
“I’m surprised to see you here,” Kindra said. “I’d have thought with today’s forecast you’d be catching some waves.”
Vaughn grinned. She knew him so well. “I already did.”
“So you thought you’d come in and do a little work?”
“If that’s okay with you?” He gave her a wink.
She shrugged. “You’re the boss.” Kindra followed him inside his office and caught him up to date on what he’d missed that morning. Once he was up to speed, Vaughn dismissed her so he could open his laptop and satisfy his curiosity.
He typed Miranda Jensen into his browser and searched.
He was shocked by what came up.
Miranda was no gold digger on the hunt for her latest meal. She was a wealthy heiress from a prominent Chicago family. He went on to read how her grandfather had made a killing in the finance world and as his sole granddaughter, she was due to inherit millions.
Vaughn leaned back in his chair and rubbed his beard. So he hadn’t been the only one not being completely truthful. Although she’d shared that she was from the Windy City, Miranda hadn’t mentioned she was an heiress. Was she just as cognizant as he of men’s less than altruistic motives when it came to dating her?
Who knew they had so much in common?
It certainly
eased Vaughn’s fears about revealing his true identity to her, when she was clearly rich several times over. It made what he was about to do very easy.
* * *
“I’m so excited you’re in town,” Sasha Charles told Miranda when they met for lunch at noon. Miranda was excited to finally spend time with her dear friend. Since college, they’d only seen each other on the odd girls’ weekend, but to have quality time to seriously catch up was worth the trip to San Diego alone.
“Me too,” Miranda responded. “It seems like I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Sasha laughed. “It has been a while. The last time I saw you was when we went to that ski chalet in Colorado with our significant others.”
Miranda rolled her eyes. She remembered that trip and how she’d been besotted with Anthony, all the while he’d been looking at other women in skintight ski outfits. What a fool she’d been. And she was determined not to make the mistakes of the past. She’d narrowly avoided disaster with Vic, but luckily she’d led with her head instead of her libido. Otherwise, all she would have had to show for her efforts was a good lay. Now, she could continue her search for a husband.
“Miranda?”
“Hmm...” She glanced up from her reverie to see Sasha watching her suspiciously. Her large brown eyes drew Miranda in as they always did. Her best friend looked put together in a conservative pencil skirt and white button-down top. Sasha was a head taller than Miranda at five foot seven, with a shapely figure and the cutest pixie-like haircut she’d ever seen. Miranda had never done more than trim a few inches from her shoulder-length hair.
“What’s going on?” When Miranda began to protest, Sasha held up her hand. “And before you give me some song and dance, remember that I know you. You can’t keep secrets from me.”
Miranda inwardly cringed. She was keeping one now. She hadn’t revealed to Sasha the terms of her grandfather’s will. She hadn’t told anyone. It was embarrassing to find herself in the situation to begin with, let alone having people feel sorry for her that she couldn’t find a man. She didn’t want pity, not even from her best friend.
“I’m just trying to figure out my next move concerning my career,” Miranda offered, which was a half-truth. “You know I haven’t been happy for a while now. And I was hoping some time away would give me clarity on what to do next.”
“You know what to do,” Sasha replied. “Open your own B and B. You’ve been talking about it for as long as I can remember.”
“It’s not that simple. I need capital.”
“Can’t your parents loan you the money? Or what about a bank loan? I hate to see you giving up on your dreams.” Sasha was a much sought-after marketing consultant.
Miranda frowned. “I’m not giving up. Just deciding on the best course of action.” And once she had her hands on her inheritance, she would go after her dreams, full stop. She just needed a husband to get there. “Anyway, I was hoping maybe we could hit the town, maybe go to a happy hour and mingle.”
“Really?” Sasha’s brow rose a fraction. “Are you looking for a little vacation loving?”
Miranda laughed aloud. She could have easily have had that and then some last night. Vic had been one delicious male specimen who would have put a hurting on Miranda if she’d allowed him, but she hadn’t. “I wouldn’t mind a little company of the male persuasion.”
“Well, then, let me look around,” Sasha said, taking a forkful of her salad. “I’ll text you and we’ll make a night of it. Sound good?”
“Sure.” But Miranda’s brain drifted to Vic and the sensual smile he’d given her when he’d walked her to her hotel door. The way Vic had taken her in his arms and leaned into Miranda had her thinking about his hard length. Why was she even thinking about a man who’d lied to her? She needed to be sweeping him under the rug. So why did her heart burst with joy when his name came across her phone display several seconds later?
Last night, he’d taken her phone and input his number to be sure she wouldn’t lose it and had insisted she do the same. He’d even rung the phone to ensure she hadn’t given him a fake number. And now he was calling her.
She stared at the phone.
“Are you going to answer that?” Sasha inquired, inclining her head to the phone Miranda held in her palm.
She should ignore it, but another part of her wanted to answer and give Vic a piece of her mind. Swiping her thumb across her iPhone, she answered. “Hello.”
“Hello, Miranda.” Why did his voice have to sound like hot fudge poured over a sundae?
“Vic? Oh wait, I don’t believe that’s your real name, is it?” The words came tumbling out of Miranda’s lips before she could stop them. Sasha stared back at her in confusion. Rising to her feet, she stepped away from the table for some privacy.
At the silence on the other end, she continued. “Cat got your tongue?”
A sigh sounded on the other end. “So you found out?”
“Uh, yes, I did. In this day and age, did you really expect I wouldn’t discover the truth?”
“Honestly, I wasn’t thinking that far in advance,” he responded. “Another body part had taken over my brain.”
Miranda colored at his meaning. “What are you hiding, Vic?”
“My bank account,” he replied. “Same as you.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Miranda Jensen, trust fund baby of the Chicago Jensens, a prominent family in the finance world. Or at least that’s what it said online.”
So he’d researched her too? “Did you know who I was when you met me in the café?”
“No, just the opposite,” Vaughn responded. “I knew nothing about you except that I’d met a beautiful woman that intrigued me, but I meet gorgeous women all the time. When you weren’t forthcoming with information about yourself, it made me cagey, so I decided to look into your background.”
“Why?”
“Because...similar to you, I’ve amassed a certain wealth and find myself watchful for gold diggers. I apologize that I wasn’t honest with you, Miranda. I admit I’m a bit jaded by my past experiences. In any event, it’s no excuse. And for the record, my real name is Vaughn Ellicott.”
An apology? She hadn’t expected that. And she now knew his given name. Vaughn. She kind of liked the sound of it.
“Wait a minute. Did you say you’re wealthy?” He certainly wouldn’t need a share of her inheritance if he had wealth of his own.
He snorted. “Don’t sound so shocked. Just because I look like a surfer dude doesn’t mean I don’t work.”
“Ouch.” She touched her chest as she felt the sting of his words. “Of course you do. I guess I just thought you might be one of those guys with a contract or endorsements or something to surf full-time.”
“You thought I was that good?” Surprise was evident in his voice.
Sasha motioned Miranda back over to the table but she shook her head and said. “I watched you for an hour. You know you’re that good.”
“I’m glad you think so. But I didn’t call you for praise.”
“Oh no? Why did you call?”
“So we could start again,” Vaughn replied quickly. “I’d like a clean slate with you, Miranda. So you can get to know the real me. I called to ask you for a second date.”
Miranda’s heart lurched in excitement. She had enjoyed spending time in Vic’s—no, Vaughn’s—company, but he hadn’t been forthright with her. Why should she go down that rabbit hole again? It wouldn’t be prudent. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to see each other again.”
“So who is lying now?”
“Excuse me?”
“We had a good time. And you and I both know that the night might have ended differently if you hadn’t got cold feet.”
“I didn’t get cold feet. I just don’t sleep around with men I barely know which clearly I did
n’t since you couldn’t be bothered to give me your real name.”
“Duly noted.” He ignored her dig. “Now about that dinner? My treat, someplace nice and I promise I’ll even dress up and everything.” Miranda remembered the distressed jeans and T-shirt he’d worn that hugged his tight bottom and bulging biceps. He’d looked darn good to her. Was she ready to see this new wealthy Vaughn Ellicott and see him all spruced up?
Yes, she was. Even though she knew it was fruitless effort, she could enjoy one last evening with him before she began her husband-seeking mission again because he certainly wouldn’t need a share of her inheritance.
“I take your silence as acquiescence, so I’ll pick you up at your hotel at seven p.m. sharp. And Miranda?”
“Yes?”
“Wear something sexy.” Seconds later, the line went dead and Miranda stared down at it in disbelief. Her circumstances had changed in mere seconds from being alone to a date with a fine man she was extremely attracted to.
Miranda walked back to the table and Sasha was staring at her wide-eyed. “Well?” Her brow raised a fraction. “Are you going to tell me what that was all about?”
Mirada shrugged. She didn’t understand it herself. She should be running in the opposite direction from a charmer like Vaughn who’d brushed aside his dishonesty under the rug and got her to accept his dinner invite.
“Don’t you dare? Spill.”
Ten minutes later, Sasha was glancing at her in bewilderment as if she’d suddenly sprouted horns. “What?”
“You’re going to give this guy another chance after he lied to you about something as simple as his name?”
“Why not?” Miranda shrugged. It wasn’t as if she had men lined up at her door. Plus she was about to tie herself down in marriage for the next year. Why not enjoy what could be the final night of her freedom? “He explained why he was less than honest when we met. He’s encountered a lot of gold diggers, just like I have. If anyone can understand I can. Plus, he’s attractive as hell.”
His San Diego Sweetheart Page 3