by Jami Alden
Short―she'd barely come up to the middle of his chest―but lushly curved enough to stop traffic, Carla DeLuca had been a sweet little armful, one he'd been itching to get his hands on practically from the first time he laid eyes on her. But Chris knew Sam all too well and had made it clear he'd kick Sam's ass all the way to Los Angeles if he so much as looked at his three-years-younger and infinitely less experienced cousin.
Though Chris had been a match for his size and played football and water polo, Sam didn't have much concern about Chris being able to kick his ass. But Chris was one of Sam's best friends, and Sam tried hard not to ever let his hookups interfere with his friendships. Plus, he knew Chris was right―Carla was a good girl, nothing like the girls Sam usually ran with.
So though he'd run into her every so often through high school and after, he'd tried his damndest to keep his hands to himself.
“Tried” being the operative word. Then, the summer after Carla's senior year, Carla had shown up for employee orientation at the resort outside Vegas where Sam had worked on and off for a couple of years.
It had taken less than a week of Carla and Sam working at the isolated desert oasis, well out of Chris's sight and influence, for Sam's restraint to break down and for him to do a full court press on Carla.
Not that she'd been easy. Though she'd trailed him by three years in high school, she'd been well aware of his reputation and had flat out told him she wasn't about to become another notch on his belt.
Which only made him want her more.
In the eleven years since he'd last seen her, it didn't look like Carla had gotten any easier. With her hair straightened into a dark, silky curtain and her body toned and tight, she looked sleek and tough and ready to take on the world.
She hadn't, however, been prepared for the bomb Chris had lobbed at her. Sam had tried to dissuade Chris from springing him on Carla unannounced. He knew damn well Carla wouldn't, as Chris claimed, “be totally psyched” to have Sam come work with her at Holley Cay.
And based on the last time he’d seen Carla, she had a damn good reason why.
Fresh guilt churned in his gut as he remembered the look on Carla's face that night he'd told her it was over. Her pain as he'd told her, in the cruelest way possible, that there was no future for them was seared in his brain like a brand.
He looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw Carla and Chris coming through the French doors that opened out from the restaurant to the patio. He could see the tension on Carla's face from here. Whatever she'd discussed with Chris, it hadn't made her any happier.
Had she told him about what had happened?
Sam's conscience pricked him, as it had the moment Chris had told him that if he accepted the position at Holley Cay, he'd be working not for Chris, but for Carla.
“You remember Carla, right?” Chris had asked.
Hell yeah, he remembered her. And not, as Sam knew Chris assumed, as the cute girl three classes behind whom he encountered at one of the many parties Chris had thrown in high school. Sam should have told Chris then, he knew. Should have come clean, been a man about it, and let him know all the reasons why Carla wouldn't want him within a hundred miles of their island paradise.
But he knew if he fessed up, he most likely wouldn't get to see her again. And though he hadn't let himself dwell on her in years―white hot dreams where he finally got to do all the things she wouldn't let him didn't count―at the mention of her name he felt the need to see her with an urgency unlike anything he'd felt in a long time.
In fact, the last time he'd felt it, it had been when he knew he needed to drive her away before she wasted her life on a loser like him.
But when Chris told him about the position, and how Carla was on the verge of losing her job because of the previous security breach, Sam had been overwhelmed by the need to help her. Any flashes of common sense that tried to warn him this was a terrible idea were immediately drowned out by the urge to come to her rescue, as though somehow that could make up for the way he'd treated her before.
As Chris crossed to him, Sam rose from his chair and studied his face, looking for signs of anger. Though he looked frustrated, Chris didn't look pissed. Sam let down his guard now that he was reasonably sure he didn't need to brace himself to take a punch.
Check that, he thought as his gaze shifted back to Carla, who looked ready to skip the punch and go straight for a kick in the nuts.
“So, looks like you're our new head of security,” she said. He thought the expression on her face was supposed to be a smile but it looked more like a baring of teeth. And if looks could kill, he'd be nothing more than a pile of ash on the flagstone patio slabs. “Since Chris hired you, I'll have him show you to your office and get you set up―“
“I'm going to have to head out,” Chris interrupted. “We've got a wedding for five hundred tomorrow so I need to relieve the nanny.” He gave Sam a wink and slapped him on the shoulder. “Seriously, nothing but non-stop action here in the tropics. We'll have you over to our place to catch up soon.” Chris took his leave, and Sam turned his attention back to Carla.
“Did you know when you took this job you'd be working for me?” she asked him point blank as soon as Chris was out of earshot.
Sam nodded.
“Why? In what universe did you think this would be a good idea?”
Without waiting for an answer she turned and started marching back inside, leaving Sam no choice but to follow. “I knew you wouldn't be overjoyed to see me―“
“You think?” she said over her shoulder as she cut through the restaurant, back outside, and through the breezeway that connected the restaurant with the resort's main building. He followed her past the reception counter and down a hall that led to a large windowed office. “This is my office,” she said, indicating a room with picture windows that offered views of turquoise blue water and white sand beach. Off in the distance Sam saw a two-mast sailboat making its lazy way across the horizon. “Bryce, our sales and events director, sits in here with me. You'll meet him later.”
She continued further down the hall and opened a door on the left. “And this is where you'll be.” It was smaller than hers, no more than fifteen by fifteen or so, but like hers it offered a view of the sea that Sam could happily stare at for hours. “You didn't answer my question. Why?”
“Like Chris said, I needed a change of pace. I've been to some nasty places over the years.” That was putting it lightly. His stint in the Rangers had sent him to Iraq and Afghanistan, and in the five years he'd worked for Argus he'd seen more suffering and death than he ever had in the military. “I got tired of getting paid to help multi-billion dollar corporations screw the locals in the most fucked up places on the planet, so when Chris offered up a job in paradise, how could I not jump at it?”
And when Chris had said Holley Cay was paradise, he hadn't been exaggerating. When he was a kid he'd looked at pictures in magazines, watched commercials for places like Club Med and wondered what it would be like to be able to go to a place like that. Holley Cay was about a hundred notches above Club Med in luxury, but it wasn't just the five star quality of the place that caught Sam's attention.
From the second Sam had stepped off the water taxi that had transferred from nearby St. Thomas, he'd felt a sort of calm seep into his bones. It was like nothing he'd ever experienced. He'd grown up on the outskirts of Vegas, away from the glamour of the strip where the neon lights and wads of cash gave way to desperation. He'd never seen a place so beautiful and pristine.
The sheer beauty, combined with the warm, salt-scented breeze, the lazy slap of waves lapping up onto the beach, gave Holley Cay a calming vibe that made a person feel like nothing could ever go wrong.
“I'd think working for me would be a pretty damn big deterrent,” Carla snapped, distracting him from the view out the window. Contrary to his thoughts, the look on her face proved that some days things went very wrong for some people.
He couldn't stop his lips from cur
ving into a smile. “Actually, it was kind of a selling point.”
Her face went pale underneath the tan.
“What, you didn't have enough fun ripping me apart and humiliating me the first time? You thought you'd take Chris up on his offer and come back for another round?”
There was no mistaking the pain in her eyes and her voice, and again the guilt clawed at him. Though he knew he'd treated her horribly, he'd justified it over the years with the knowledge that she'd gone on to become incredibly successful. If she'd stayed with him, who knew where she would have ended up. All he knew was that it wouldn't be here in paradise running one of the most exclusive resorts in the world.
He'd hoped, stupidly, selfishly, that her hurt would have faded over the years, but it was all still there on her face, raw and undeniable. When Chris had told him he'd be working with Carla, part of his excitement and urgency to see her again was that he'd have the opportunity to give her a much-deserved apology. But now, seeing the pain on her face, he realized what a selfish asshole he was, dredging all of this up for her just so he could make amends.
He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. “Chris told me about some of the problems you've been having, and when I heard about your situation, I wanted to help. I figured it was the least I could do.”
Her arms were folded tight across her chest, her face a stony mask.
“But you're right,” he said at her continued silence and dug his cell phone out of his pocket, “this was a bad idea. Let me call Chris, I'll tell him I changed my mind, I can recommend a couple other guys―”
“It would have been nice if you could have done that about a week ago, before our investors got all hot and bothered by you. Unfortunately for me, I actually need you to keep your job so I can keep my job. According to Chris, they practically wet their pants when he showed them your resume.”
Sam couldn't stifle a chuckle. Carla always did have a way with words. “I can make some calls―there are a lot of guys more qualified than I am―”
Carla cut him off. “Even if you can find someone we can hire quickly, it won't look good if I send you packing right away.
No, if it looks like I screwed this up, I'm out. I can't lose this job. I've worked too hard to get her and I don't want to let Chris down. You have to stay, at least long enough to get everyone off my back.” For the first time since she'd stepped out on that patio he saw a flash of vulnerability in her eyes.
He'd always been drawn to it, drawn to her. The way she came off as so savvy, so confident, but inside there was a sweetness she didn't always let others see. “Of course I'll stay.”
“Good.” She nodded. The vulnerability vanished, replaced by the guarded wariness her tight smile couldn't hide.
Her shoulders lost some of their tension as she leaned a hip against the desk and folded her arms across her chest. Sam tried and failed not to notice the way the plump curve of her breasts swelled above the top of her sleeveless dress. She gave a deep sigh, giving him just the barest glimpse of black lace against smooth tanned skin.
Oh, Jesus, Carla DeLuca in black lacy lingerie, those luscious tits barely contained by thin satin...
“Eyes up here, soldier,” Carla snapped.
He dragged them back up to her face and saw that her cheeks were a delicious red. He felt his own face heat to be caught staring at her rack. World class or not, Sam had come to pride himself on his professionalism no matter the circumstances. “Sorry, I uh―”
“If we're going to work together, you can't look at me like that.” Carla said tightly.
Sam nodded, but didn't bother making any promises he couldn't keep.
She gave him a curt nod back and pushed away from the desk. “I'll go to my office and pull together all the information to get you up to speed,” she said, already headed for her office, “and after lunch I'll give you a full tour of―”
“Wait a second,” he said, reaching out to catch her. Jesus, he'd forgotten how smooth her skin was. Just wrapping his fingers around her upper arm was enough to send an electric shock straight through to his cock.
“What?” she said, forcefully jerking her arm from his grip. Like she couldn't stand to be touched by him.
But he knew different, could see the way her cheeks flushed and the way those world class tits rose and fell a little bit faster. God, he wished he could make her forget the past. He wanted to pull her into her office, spread her across the desk and shove that filmy skirt up her thighs.
Peel down her panties and bury his face between her legs to see if her pussy tasted as good as he remembered. In that moment, he realized why he'd jumped so quickly on Chris's offer. And it wasn't because of any good intentions or any ideas of doing right by Carla to make up for what he'd done.
He was here because deep down, he'd never gotten over her. Never stopped wanting to reclaim everything he'd thrown away.
Impossible, he knew, and a hell of a lot more than he deserved after the way he'd treated her. “Before we get down to business, I just want you to know how sorry I am.”
She flashed him a smile that didn't reach her eyes. “Don't be. It's not your fault that the board of directors thinks I'm borderline incompetent, and it's not your fault Chris decided to help me”―she held her hands up crooked her fingers in air quotes―“by hiring you behind my back.”
“That's not what I'm talking about and you know it,” he said, stepping closer, close enough to catch the scent of her, soft, floral, and all woman. “I owe you an apology for how I ended things between us. I said things to you that were unforgivable, things I didn't mean―”
“Don't.” She spat the word out in a harsh whisper. Her face had gone cold and pale as marble, her full lips thinned to a tight line. “I don't want your apologies, or any other reminders of my own stupidity. If this is going to work at all, you're going to do exactly what I did and forget anything ever happened.”
“Carla―“
“Oh come on,” she said with a laugh, having recovered some of her bravado. “Sure your sudden appearance caught me off guard, and I'd prefer not to be stuck working less than fifteen feet away from you. But do you really think I'm still hung up on a stupid summer fling we had when I was eighteen? It was nothing. I was over it by the time you left the lake.”
If that was true―and he seriously doubted it―then she'd been in a hell of a lot better shape than he'd been in. “It wasn't nothing,” he protested.
“It was less than nothing,” she said. She put her palms on her desk and leaned forward, her dark eyes narrowed in a fierce glare. “As you were so careful to point out, we were just hooking up. How significant could it be?”
Chapter 3
Carla snuggled further under the blanket as the cool night breeze ruffled through her hair. The lights of the Las Vegas strip glimmered in the distance, but here, in the middle of the Nevada desert with an ocean of stars shining brightly above them, it felt like she and Sam were a world away from their lives in the suburbs surrounding the hustle and bustle of the strip.
“I've never seen so many stars,” she whispered, in awe of the lightshow sparkling above them. “At home there's too much ambient light from the strip to see them clearly, but out here you can see everything.”
“Mm hmm.” She felt a tickling sensation low in her belly as Sam slid a leanly muscled arm around her waist and pulled her closer. She shivered as he brushed her hair over her shoulder and nuzzled his mouth into her neck, kissing and sucking in a way that made her go hot and shaky all over,
“I can see Scorpio,” she said, trying to pretend she wasn't going crazy inside. “And Cassiopeia.” Her breath caught and her eyes fluttered closed as Sam's teeth closed over her earlobe followed by a soft flick of his tongue against the tender skin.
Before Sam, she'd never known it could feel so good to have her neck and ears kissed. She sighed and arched her neck back to give him better access.
“I know where you can find the Big Dipper,” he murmured and pulled her hand down
to the front of his jeans.
“Stop it,” she said in an embarrassed whisper and snatched her hand away. Still, the feel of him, the hot, hard thickness of him felt seared into her palm.
Sam let out a low chuckle and pushed her down into the blanket. He kneed her legs apart and settled in between, fitting him to her so she could feel him there, hot and hard. He rocked his hips, making her gasp at the friction.
His mouth covered hers, his tongue thrust between her lips to slide against hers. Carla threaded her fingers through his thick, dark hair and drank him in. There was nothing she didn't love about kissing Sam.
Unlike the other boys she'd fooled around with before, Sam knew exactly what he was doing with his lips and tongue. Maybe it was because he was three years older.
Or maybe it was all the experience he'd had up until now...
She sucked his tongue into her mouth and shoved the thought from her mind. Sam was with her now, as he had been from the second night the summer employees had shown up for work at the Lake Mead Resort and Marina.
Carla had seen the way all the other girls had looked at him. She knew he could have taken his pick. But from the moment she'd arrived he'd set his sights on her. Carla had known him both by reputation and through his friendship with her cousin Chris, but until this summer Sam O'Connell had barely given her the time of day.
But now...
A little sound of pleasure escaped her throat as she felt Sam rub right up against her most sensitive spot. She widened her knees and rocked back, feeling a thrill shoot through her at his answering groan.
“One of these nights,” Sam said between soft, sucking kisses, “you're going to let me do this with your clothes off.”
A wave of heat rushed through her at the thought of them naked, skin to skin. The tense knot of need between her legs pulled even tighter. God, it was so tempting. “Don't hold your breath,” she whispered.