His to Seduce

by Stacey Lynn

  “We’ll do it in a minute, as soon as I think I can walk without my knees giving out.”

  I pushed off him, waiting until he looked at me. Amusement shined in his eyes and in the twist of his lips. I couldn’t help but match his smile. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes, to play off how incredible he was. It didn’t mean I was surprised he thought that about me, though, either.

  One of the reasons I hadn’t taken many lovers in the past was because I was terrified that I couldn’t get into it as much as they did. That I was a disappointment and not sexy enough.

  With David, things were different. Perhaps it was because he’d made his attraction to me so clear and so obvious for months now.

  Perhaps it was just him.

  Perhaps it was the fact that despite myself, despite my feelings about him and what he did and my fears that he could quickly walk away if he wanted, I was beginning to fall for him.

  I liked him. I liked how he pushed me but was willing to stop when he realized how afraid I was on the cliff. I liked how he challenged me and kept me smiling even when I wanted to run. I liked how he seemed to understand I needed slow and gentle, even though he’d still take me in a closet without thinking twice.

  He had a sixth sense about me, and over the weekend he’d begun stripping away my defenses that had always worked so well.

  He was working to earn my trust, and because of that it was easy to give my body to him in a way I hadn’t ever felt I could before.

  It was nice to know that when I did, I had the ability to drive him as crazy as he did me.

  After our breathing calmed, David slid slowly out of me, rolling me to my side. His bright blue eyes roamed my face in that seeking way they did so often.

  “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, brushing his lips against mine. “I couldn’t have imagined a better weekend, a better way to spend time in paradise, than spending it with you.”

  My heart didn’t flutter.

  It leaped against my chest so hard I thought it might burst forth. My cheeks ached from my wide grin and then heated from the exorbitant praise.

  “Thank you,” I said shyly. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

  He rolled us, him on top of me, and his grin was full of mirth and wickedness. “Yes. I think I got that when you screamed my name so loud, the walls shook.”

  I smacked him teasingly, laughing along with him. “Shut up. I did not.”

  He pushed off me and then off the bed, pulling me with him. “You don’t think? Maybe we should go next door, ask whoever’s staying there if they know my name.”

  “You’re horrible!” My skin burned. Humiliating me like that and making me laugh. They were things only David could do.

  It wasn’t even until we were in the shower, still laughing, him still teasing me as we began washing each other, that for the first time since we’d stripped down together I was no longer self-conscious about him seeing my body. I no longer flinched when he ran his finger over my scar.

  I’d skirted the question earlier, but someday I’d have to tell him.

  I just didn’t want it to be that morning, when for the first time in my life I didn’t feel the stress of perfectionism and the need for success pressing down on me. I liked who I was with David, and I only hoped like hell I was brave enough to take this wherever it was going as soon as we returned home.

  I was toweling off my hair when David walked into the bathroom, my cellphone in his hand.

  “It’s Chelsea,” he said as I reached for it. “I answered it only because it was the second time she called.”

  He flashed me an apologetic look as I pressed the phone to my ear. “Hello?”

  “Holy cow! You guys been doing it all day? I’ve tried calling you for the last hour.”

  “No.” I groaned and reached for the robe I’d flung off the bed earlier. Scanning the room, I took in the mess and frowned. I’d never been the kind of person to leave a trail of clothes in my wake. Everything had a place and everything went in it. David’s bungalow looked like a small tornado had hit it overnight. My underwear and dress from the first night were flung over a chair and draped onto the floor, my swimsuit in another pile. Towels were crumpled and left wherever they’d fallen. Interspersed with all of it were David’s shorts and boxers and swim trunks.

  The mess didn’t bother me as much as it usually did.

  Vacation apparently chilled me the hell out. Or sex with David did.

  “Hey!” a voice snapped in my ear and I jerked.

  “What?”

  Chelsea’s laugh vibrated through the phone. “What the heck, Camden? I’m asking you questions.”

  “Oh.” I hadn’t heard a single one. “Sorry. What is it?”

  “Well, I was wondering how good the sex is, but you sound so funny and sleepy and all dreamy-like, now I don’t really want to know the answer.”

  “Good, because I won’t tell you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. But I’m calling because we’re all having dinner tonight before we head back tomorrow. Meet us at The Regent Pier at seven, okay?”

  “We’ll be there,” I said, and David looked my way, brows pulled together. While I’d been talking, he’d thrown on a pair of white shorts and a baby-blue polo shirt. His feet were slipped into a pair of leather sandals. The shirt brought out the color of his eyes and the white accentuated the tan he’d gotten since we arrived.

  My mouth watered and I heard Chelsea giggle again.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, embarrassed. “What were you saying?”

  “Never mind.” She laughed louder. David’s eyes crinkled. “I’ll see you tonight. Don’t be late.”

  “We won’t. Love ya’.”

  “You, too, Camden.”

  I hung up the phone and tossed it on the bed. “Everyone’s meeting for dinner at seven.”

  “Good.” He walked toward me and without hesitating, slid his hand to the knot at the robe’s belt and tugged me toward him. “That gives us enough time to head off the resort and do some shopping.”

  I had wanted to go earlier when he brought it up. I’d just wanted him first.

  Now, it sounded like a great idea.

  “Give me twenty to get ready, okay?”

  “You have fifteen, or I’m going to lose my control and take you all over again.”

  I gulped audibly and David laughed. Tugging off my robe, he pulled it with him and went to the bed. He propped himself up on pillows, threw his arms, elbows bent, behind his head, and arched a brow.

  “Fourteen minutes, Camden.”

  I turned and hustled into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me. My expression in the mirror’s reflection was one of pure happiness, and it took me by surprise. Through the closed door, I still heard David laughing.

  —

  With our tanned skin and wide smiles, the eight of us looked like we could be on a poster for the perfect Caribbean vacation. We once again raised glasses of champagne to toast Tyson and Blue, and the clinking sound and laughter filtered into the air on the gentle night’s breeze.

  The day had been another incredible one for the books. So far, this vacation was turning out to be the best I’d ever had and while I was hesitant to put a lot of that on David’s shoulders, I also knew it was true. After he’d dragged me out of the bungalow this morning, we’d taken a taxi, some junky teal-colored car barely large enough for him to fold himself into the backseat, into the small town to explore.

  Hand-in-hand we walked along sandy streets, wild chickens and goats meandering along with us. David haggled with vendors, their local dialect sounding like music. I watched from the sidelines while he bartered, then walked up to me with a bracelet. Without asking, he took my hand in his and slid the bracelet on my wrist, clasping it, before he guided me to where a small crowd was watching and dancing to a live reggae band.

  I fingered the bracelet now, while we were at the table with our friends. It was made of bands of small shells in a rainbow of colors, and though I hadn’t asked hi
m why he thought to buy it for me, I couldn’t stop smiling each time I looked at it.

  His hand dropped to my thigh and he squeezed, as if he knew how much I liked the small gift.

  Three hair ties on his wrist grabbed my attention and I grinned. I fingered my hair bands and looked up at him. “Are you ever going to take these off?” I whispered.

  “No. I plan on adding more to them, too, once we get home.”

  Home. The thought brought to mind returning to normal, returning to bills and stress and my silly, spacey mom. It made me picture seeing him at Fireside and reality…

  “I wish we could stay here,” I murmured, dropping his wrist where it fell back to my thigh and reaching for a glass of champagne.

  He nudged me with his shoulder. “Personally, I can’t wait to get you home.”

  Hopefulness sang in his quiet, whispered voice.

  My throat clogged, unable to respond, and I looked away.

  Across the table, Chelsea’s and Trina’s smiles were kind and their eyes soft when I met their gazes. Both looked a mixture of pensive and hopeful as they watched me with David. I fought the urge to roll my eyes at them.

  I knew what they wanted. At least, I knew what Chelsea wanted. She wanted me happy and with David.

  I wished Suzanne were around to speak sense to me. Not Paige; she’d be championing the idea of everyone getting married before we left the island. A quadruple marriage ceremony would be the icing on her fairy-tale dreams.

  Suzanne, though…she knew me. She knew me more than anyone, and when it came to me and my stubbornness and my fears, she knew how to talk to me.

  I was wondering what she would say, imagining my kind and happily married and hugely pregnant friend sitting at her kitchen table, glass of sparkling water in hand, smiling at me, holding my hand in hers and encouraging me to do whatever made me happiest, when a loud cry rang in the distance.

  “What the hell?” David jumped, pushing his chair back. He scanned the outdoor seating area.

  “Help!” A woman shouted. “My husband! Harold!”

  My head whipped around toward the voice and I was jolted forward when David rushed past my chair, bumping into it on his way to an elderly woman. All I saw was a mop of graying hair, crouching over a man violently trembling on the wood-planked pier.

  “Someone!” she shouted. “Help him!”

  Without thinking, I shoved out of my chair and rushed to David’s side, reaching him as he squatted down and rolled the man to his side.

  “Hold him steady,” he said to the woman, as he grasped onto the man’s shoulder. He didn’t restrain him, but it looked like he was propping him on his side.

  Footsteps pounded behind us and David snapped his head up. His eyes met mine and a vacant expression filled them before he looked over my shoulder. “Declan, help move the furniture out of the way, the chair and the table. Everyone step back!”

  His voice was commanding, calm and controlled.

  My heart pounded ferociously against my chest as I watched. Stunned. He knew exactly what was going on. Knew exactly how to handle it. How?

  I turned to see tables and chairs pushed out of the way. Tyson and Declan formed a barrier between us and the quickly growing crowd.

  My gaze caught on Trina, her eyes glued to David, who I knew was behind me, speaking to the woman.

  Something in her expression made it difficult for me to turn around, but I did and looked at David.

  “Medical history?” David asked, looking at the shaking woman. She was squatting next to him, her eyes never leaving the man she’d called Harold.

  With trembling lips, she forced words out. “Stroke, six months ago. He’s had seizures since then, but none that lasted this long.”

  David flicked his wrist and glanced at a metal watch. “One minute, ten seconds,” he muttered. “Not so long, though I know it feels like forever.”

  Beneath his hand, the man still rocked and trembled.

  Time seemed to stand still as the reality of what was happening began to click together in my mind.

  “He’s wearing a medical alert bracelet,” David said. “What meds and why?”

  The woman fumbled with her purse, trembling fingers making it difficult to work the zipper. “The names…there’s so many…I have a list and bottles…”

  With all the calmness in the world, like he was used to handling encounters like this, David’s hand covered hers. “No worries. We’ll call an ambulance. He’ll be okay, but when we get to the hospital, show them the list, okay?”

  She shook her head. “I don’t…It’s our anniversary. He always wanted to come here. I tried to talk him out of it. It’s too soon and he hasn’t been well.”

  “Ma’am…”

  “Milly,” she whispered. “Milly Payne.”

  “Milly,” David said, his voice soothing her. “Seizures can happen after strokes. More common at older ages. How old is Harold and how many has he had since the stroke?”

  She squeezed her eyes closed. “He’s seventy-four. And he’s had three…no…yes, this is his fourth. The doctors said the meds…”

  “Sometimes they need to be adjusted. The right combination can help and sometimes it changes.” He glanced at his watched and flicked his eyes up.

  They met mine briefly and then went to Declan. “Have the restaurant call the ambulance. Non-emergency, but he’ll need to be checked. Tell them we have a post-stroke patient with a convulsive seizure lasting five minutes.”

  Declan nodded, turned, and hurried away, already moving to the bar.

  My jaw dropped. Convulsive? Non-emergency?

  “David?” I asked, unable to stop myself. This wasn’t the first time he’d handled a medical situation. It absolutely wasn’t.

  “Looks like a knife wound.”

  He’d said that to me, softly but knowingly.

  My response had been snippy, but his hadn’t.

  “Bartenders see a lot of things.”

  Barely an ounce of truth in his statement. Blood rushed from my face when he looked up at me.

  “David—” I called his name again.

  His expression closed off. “Not now, Camden.”

  “But…” I took a step forward. Stopped.

  He glanced back down at his watch. “Five minutes, thirty seconds.” A muscle jumped in his jaw. Two of his fingers pressed against Harold’s throat. Taking his pulse.

  How did he know this?

  Reality began to pour into me and I looked at Trina, pieces clicking together.

  “He’s a bartender…”

  I’d said that months ago.

  She’d looked so disappointed in me.

  “Actually, he’s not.”

  “He helped me in Chicago.”

  She’d sprained her ankle there. Had mentioned being treated. When she returned, she’d barely limped for a couple of days and then was back to normal.

  She knew.

  My eyes burned and I grappled for breath, stumbling away from the scene in front of me.

  I shot accusing eyes at her, unable to stop. “You knew,” I gasped, breathing it out, my throat lined with sandpaper.

  She knew. The men knew.

  “Did you all know?” My blood began to boil and my skin itched. My legs trembled and I glared at Chelsea. Her hand clutched tight around Aidan’s bicep at the outer edge of the crowd. My voice rose. “Did you all know?”

  “Camden.” Trina stepped toward me, but I shook my head. “Let me explain.”

  “I’d like that, too,” Chelsea said, her shocked eyes snapping to mine. “What’s going on?”

  I turned to Aidan. Nothing in his stern expression gave anything away. He barely pulled his eyes off David and Harold to look briefly at Chelsea. “Told you it wasn’t my story to share, honey.”

  “Oh my God.” My hand went to my chest. My heart beat so quickly I felt the vibrations beneath my fingertips. My chest heated and burned. My knees wobbled so hard I thought I might fall over.

  Sway
ing, I turned and stared directly at David. His head was turned and he was whispering to Milly. Soft, calm words, explaining phrases I didn’t understand, assurances only a man with medical experience could.

  As if he felt my eyes burning into the back of his skull, he turned and met my furious expression.

  His eyes softened, silently apologetic.

  How much had he lied to me? And why?

  “My God,” I gasped, stepping backward, shaking my head.

  “Camden.” He stayed in his position, moving slightly as if to reach for me and then seeming to remember where he was…what he was doing. “Camden.”

  He called my name a second time again. No explanation. No apology.

  How could I have been so stupid as to trust him? To feel safe with him?

  Was it all a joke?

  “You’re a…doctor?” The truth, stated like a question, formed in my brain and I spoke it on a whisper, my voice ragged.

  He flinched when he heard me and opened his mouth.

  To speak more lies? I didn’t wait to hear them.

  “Camden,” Chelsea cried out as I hurried away from them, pushing through strangers who were circling. “Come back.”

  I kept going, but her footsteps echoed along the wooden planks. She grabbed my arm, stopping me.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Did you know?”

  “No.” She shook her head rapidly back and forth. “I’m as shocked as you, I swear. I wouldn’t keep that from you.”

  She wouldn’t. I knew that. Chelsea was good and kind and honest and funny…and holy shit, was this really happening?

  My head swam. My body buzzed like I was at the edge of that stupid freaking cliff David had talked me into jumping off.

  “I have to go.”

  “We’re leaving tomorrow—”

  I cut her off with a glare. “I’m leaving. I have to get out of here. Did he do all this to make a fool out of me? Trick the uptight bitch into thinking she was enjoying slumming it with him? He lied, Chelsea.”

  “There has to be a reason. Please, Camden. Don’t leave like this. Go back to your bungalow; wait until you’re calm. Give him a chance to explain.”

  I ripped my arm out of hers.

  God, all the questions I’d asked him…and then felt so badly for judging him, and yet the entire weekend, he’d been lying to me. For months he’d tried to get my attention, all while lying.