“Just let me know if you’d like anything else, sir,” the waiter enthused. “If you’re ready for lunch I’m happy to bring over a menu, and your meal can be brought to you right here on the beach.”
He’d eaten a fairly substantial breakfast on his first-class flight this morning so he wasn’t all that hungry at the moment.
“Maybe in an hour or so,” Jordan told the waiter. “Right now I’ve got everything I need.”
He picked up his drink in a toast to the waiter, then indicated the breathtaking stretch of beach in front of him. The waiter nodded smilingly, then hurried away as the occupant of another lounge beckoned him over.
Jordan savored his first sip of the icy cold, perfectly blended Mai Tai. It didn’t surprise him in the least that the cocktail was of the very finest quality, and served in a heavy, cut crystal glass. After all, the Gregson hotels hadn’t come by their sterling reputation as the world’s premiere luxury hotel chain by skimping on details like the quality of their alcohol. He’d only spent a few minutes inside his suite, really just enough time to change into swim trunks, T-shirt, and flip flops, but from the little he’d seen of the place he knew it was easily the most swank room he’d ever stayed in. And considering his own expensive tastes and high standards that was saying a lot.
Ian had initially offered up the owner’s suite - a privilege normally reserved just for family members or an occasional celebrity or dignitary - for Jordan’s use, but he’d been quick to decline, joking that he’d probably get lost in such a big space. The truth of the matter was that he simply couldn’t handle the thought of sleeping in the same bed, or showering in the same bathroom, that Tessa and Ian had used during their visits to this same hotel. If his main purpose in getting out of San Francisco for a couple of weeks was to forget about the delectable Mrs. Gregson once and for all, then staying in the suite she’d used - and torturing himself with erotic images of her naked body spread across the king-sized bed - would rather be defeating the purpose. Better all around to stay in another, smaller suite, one where he wouldn’t have to wonder about all the places the blissfully married couple might or might not have enjoyed a passionate encounter, and where he planned to indulge in his own erotic pastimes.
And from first glance it didn’t appear as though he’d have any trouble at all in finding the first of many willing companions to share his bed tonight. From his ideal vantage point on this prime stretch of beach, Jordan could lazily but thoroughly look over all of the females who passed by. Since every beach in the state of Hawaii was considered public, he assumed that not everyone gathered here on Wailea Beach was staying at the Gregson Resort, or at another of the adjacent hotel complexes. In fact, on the limo ride here from the airport they had passed by a public parking lot just a short distance down the road. It would be a quick, easy walk from that lot to this stretch of beach, and he guessed that at least half of the beachgoers had done just that.
At one time in his life - and not all that long ago, if he was being completely honest - Jordan wouldn’t have been the least bit picky about singling out a particular female he wanted to approach. He really didn’t have a preference between blondes, brunettes, or redheads, or whether a woman was taller than average, petite, or of average height. He wasn’t a real fan of tattoos or piercings, but if a woman was attractive enough he could overlook such things. He liked a woman who knew how to dress well, which didn’t necessarily mean wearing expensive clothing. Rather, it was more a case of knowing what colors and styles flattered her, and wearing them well.
But he supposed clothing hardly mattered at the moment, given that nearly everyone on the beach was garbed in swimwear of some sort. Not coincidentally, his gaze - well hidden behind his aviator style sunglasses - was most often drawn to the females who wore the skimpiest of bikinis. He was in no hurry whatsoever to settle on a specific woman, and took his time assessing and inspecting a number of them with the practiced ease of a master seducer. Jordan was well aware that he, too, was being checked out and sized up, and more than once he glanced up to find an attractive female smiling at him in an unmistakably seductive manner. And while he oftentimes had enjoyed being the pursued rather than the pursuer, this afternoon he just wasn’t in the mood for an aggressive bedmate, and preferred to be the one who would initiate any contact.
He finished his drink, savoring the final sips of the fruity rum cocktail, but decided against ordering a second. Now that it was early afternoon, the hot sun was high up in the sky, and even with the cooling trade winds that Hawaii was known for the temperatures were in the mid-eighties. And since he was still contemplating taking a swim, he figured it was best to lay off more alcohol for the time being.
He was also contemplating which of the two females he’d narrowed his choice down to he should approach. The first was on the petite side, with shoulder length, glossy black hair, a deep tan, and a trim, leanly muscled body. He guessed she had some Polynesian or Asian genes in her blood, and looked exotic, mysterious, and like she’d be a real little hellcat between the sheets. She also appeared to be here alone, sunning herself on a bright pink beach towel she’d spread out on the sand. She’d met his gaze at least twice, smiling at him encouragingly both times.
The other candidate for his affections was pretty much the complete opposite of the first. Candidate number two had long, artfully streaked tawny hair, was perfectly made up even though she was at the beach, and wore half a dozen necklaces and bracelets. She had curves in all the right places, though he could tell even from this distance that her impressive rack was fake. Jordan might not have been a plastic surgeon, but as an OB/GYN he’d done more than his fair share of breast exams to recognize a pair of implants with one glance. And unlike candidate number one, number two wasn’t alone, her chaise lounge flanked on either side by her two female companions. But a trivial matter like that had never bothered Jordan in the past, and there had been more than one occasion when he’d invited the woman’s friends along for some fun and games as well.
He had finally made up his mind, though, to approach the dark haired woman, figuring she’d be less complicated and not nearly so high maintenance as the bottle blonde and her entourage, when he happened to spot a third female just emerging from the surf and froze in place, staring in her direction in utter disbelief.
Jordan knew that the woman couldn’t possibly be who he’d initially thought she was. That woman was back in San Francisco, in the home she shared with her husband and two small children, one of whom she’d just given birth to very recently. The tall, tanned, and very shapely young woman who was pushing long strands of wet hair from her face was definitely not Tessa Gregson, though the resemblance - even from this distance - was jaw dropping.
She was a couple of inches taller than Tessa, which meant that she was at least five foot ten, and built on slightly leaner lines. The bright green bikini didn’t leave a whole lot to the imagination, but it was nowhere near as skimpy as some of the others he’d seen so far this afternoon. Her skin was lightly tanned all over, like the shade of a ripe apricot, and it was the sort of healthy color one could only attain by spending a lot of time outdoors. Her breasts were high and full and very firm, but Jordan could tell at a glance that they were a hundred percent real, unlike the high maintenance blonde’s. She had a taut, almost concave belly, slim hips, and long, beautifully toned legs. It was difficult to tell what color her long hair was since it was dripping wet, but he was willing to bet she was a natural blonde.
She was breathing a bit heavily, as though she’d exerted herself from her swim. Jordan had been cautioned when he’d checked into the hotel that the surf was supposed to be a little rough today, and that he should definitely exercise caution if he planned to swim in the ocean. But the Amazonian beauty who’d just emerged from the water didn’t seem in the least bit concerned about the conditions, unlike most of the other women lounging around the beach. Jordan doubted most of them would even get their dainty, perfectly pedicured feet wet to
day, much less submerge their entire body into the pounding waves.
He surged to his feet suddenly, knowing instinctively that he had to approach her now, that he couldn’t let what might very well be a fleeting opportunity to pass by without taking full advantage of it. As he jogged the short distance to the water, Jordan ignored the come-hither smiles directed his way by both of the women he’d been considering just moments ago, as well as several others. Right now there was only one woman he was interested in approaching, and he hastened his pace before she could slip away.
And then, when he was standing right in front of her, staring into a pair of oddly familiar sapphire blue eyes, he unexpectedly found himself tongue-tied - he, Jordan Reeves, who’d acquired a reputation as the smoothest of smooth talkers, who was nearly as renowned for his suave pick-up lines as he was for his prowess between the sheets, and who was never at a loss for words no matter the occasion.
The woman was regarding him almost suspiciously, frowning as he continued to stare at her soundlessly, and probably wondering if he was some sort of psycho-stalker. But before she could walk away, Jordan suddenly found his tongue.
“Look, this is going to sound like the cheesiest and most obvious pick-up line ever but - ah, hell. It is the cheesiest and most obvious pick-up line ever but - do you remember me?”
She continued to look wary, but shook her head in response to his question. “No, I most certainly don’t remember you. Should I?”
Jordan gave her the sort of smile that several of his past lovers had sworn could melt their panties off. “Ah, that’s right. You wouldn’t remember me because we’ve only met in my dreams. Until now, that is, Dream Girl.”
She rolled her eyes, but then snickered almost reluctantly. “Oh, brother. Well, you’re right about one thing. That is definitely the cheesiest pick-up line I’ve ever heard.”
He grinned at her. “Yes, but is it working?”
“No,” she replied in a very matter-of-fact voice. “But cheer up. From the looks of things there’s at least a dozen women on this beach who’d fall for a line like that in a heartbeat. Good luck.”
He watched in disbelief as she turned and walked off, stopping a short distance away at a bamboo beach mat where she grabbed up a towel and began drying off. Alarmed that she might pick up and leave before he could try and change her mind, he half-jogged, half-stumbled through the powdery sand until he reached her mat. She scowled at him, taking a couple of steps back, but he held up a hand in reassurance.
“Look, a gorgeous woman like you must get hit on constantly,” he began. “And I’m guessing you’ve heard every pick-up line ever invented, though maybe not some of mine because I’m the unofficial master of that sort of thing. But while I fully admit that I’m trying my very best to hit on you, I promise to quit with the cheesy pick-up lines, okay?”
She looked at him warily, wrapping her oversized beach towel sarong-style around her body. “O-kay,” she replied. “That still doesn’t mean I’m interested in anything you’ve got to say. And what makes you so sure I’m not here with my boyfriend?”
Jordan shrugged. “One mat, one towel, one backpack. Besides, if you did have a boyfriend and he’s a big enough idiot to let a beautiful woman like you come to the beach alone, then it would serve him right if another man stole you out from under his nose.”
“Is that right?” she challenged, but the sides of her lush mouth began to quirk up into an unwilling smile. “And is that what you’re trying to do - steal me?”
He chuckled wickedly. “If that’s what it takes, yes. One way or another, I’m not leaving until I know your name, get your contact info, and convince you to have a drink with me. For starters.”
The shapely Amazonian beauty snorted, a decidedly unfeminine sound. “Wow, someone’s totally convinced himself that he’s irresistible. Don’t tell me, let me guess. You’re either a salesman, an actor, or a high-priced criminal attorney.”
Jordan was delighted by this intriguing game of hard-to-get that she was playing. He certainly wasn’t at all used to women resisting his charms, but he had been playing these sorts of games a whole lot longer than she had, and was the closest thing to a professional game player in existence.
“Wrong on all three counts, I’m afraid,” he replied cheerfully. “I’m actually a doctor. A gynecologist to be exact.”
“That would have been my next guess,” she replied dryly. “But please don’t tell me one of your very cheesy pick-up lines has something to do with pelvic exams.”
He laughed in glee, enthralled by her rather snarky sense of humor. “Nope. Not for the reasons you think, though. And that’s actually not a bad pick-up line, come to think of it. But you see, I have a very, very strict policy of never dating my patients. So I’m afraid I could never be your doctor since I am going to be your date. Tonight, in fact.”
Dream Girl rolled her eyes again. “Well, you certainly aren’t lacking in self-confidence, are you? Or arrogance. Why do you assume that I’m free tonight, that I don’t already have a date or have to go to work? Or, beyond that, why in the world I’d even want to go on a date with you?”
“Because I’m very good looking. Not to mention charming and witty,” replied Jordan cheerily. “And,” he added, in a low, suddenly serious voice, “I can guarantee it would be the very best date of your life. Not to mention the most mindblowing sex you’ll ever have.”
Those startling blue eyes widened in shocked surprise at that last bit, and those lushly pink lips parted in a silent gasp. “You, ah, are, um, very, very sure of yourself, aren’t you?” she replied a bit unsteadily. “Not to mention more than a little conceited.”
He winked at her. “Just repeating what I’ve been told by my past, uh - dates,” he assured her. “If anything I’m being modest.”
Dream Girl snorted again, but the very unfeminine sound didn’t detract one tiny bit from her sensual appeal. “I don’t think there’s a modest bone in your body. And if you’re so wonderful and popular and apparently in demand from the female sex, then why are you so determined to get me to go out on a date with you? I’m just one of a couple of dozen unattached women on this beach, and I’m guessing the majority of them would have said yes to you after the word hello.”
Jordan lifted a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing aside a wet strand of hair. “Because once I saw you, every other woman on this beach ceased to exist,” he told her in a husky voice. “You have to know how beautiful you are, how you put every other woman to shame just by breathing. And I wasn’t entirely joking earlier when I said I’d met you in my dreams. Except that you’re a living, breathing dream come true. I’m Jordan, by the way. Jordan Reeves. And since I can’t very well keep calling you Dream Girl, you should probably tell me what your actual name is.”
Her eyes darkened as his index finger traced a deliberately seductive path across her upper lip, causing her mouth to tremble a little in reaction.
“It’s - it’s Aubrey,” she murmured, her own voice sounding a little bit hoarse. “Aubrey Larson.”
He took one of her hands in his, bringing it to his lips, and smiling when she quivered in reaction. “Aubrey. My new favorite name. Tell me, are you here on vacation or are you a native of Hawaii?”
“Neither one, actually. I’m from the mainland, but I’ve been working here on the island for the last year and a half. Oh, not at the Gregson - that would be a dream job, but it’s tough to get a foot in the door there. I work at the Westin about a mile from here.”
“So why are you at this stretch of beach? Checking out the competition?” teased Jordan.
Aubrey laughed, a soft, melodious sound that went right to his groin. He bit down on his bottom lip to stifle a groan, and forced himself to stop sneaking peeks at her impressive cleavage from beneath his eyelashes. Even the loose fitting swim trunks he wore wouldn’t be able to hide an erection, so unless he wanted to embarrass himself on a public beach in front of a crowd of people, he
needed to get control of his wayward private parts in a big hurry.
“Not exactly.” She swept an arm in the direction of the beach. “But everyone who lives here on Maui knows that this is by far the best stretch of beach on the entire island. And while the hotel guests do have their own private section, us commoners can still enjoy the rest of it. I come here once or twice a week when I have a day off, like today.”
“So today’s your day off, hmm? No reason at all then why you can’t join me for lunch,” he declared brightly.
Aubrey looked dubious, scuffing the sand with her bare feet. “Um, I don’t know about that, Jordan. I mean, I’m not exactly dressed for someplace as fancy as the Gregson. I’ve never actually had a meal there, but I’m positive they don’t allow patrons in shorts and flip-flops in any of their restaurants.”
He shrugged unconcernedly. “Not a problem. We’ll just order our meal and eat on the beach. I’ll have one of the staff bring another chaise lounge over and we’ll dine al fresco. Unless, of course, you have another lunch date. Or other plans for this afternoon.”
She shook her head, grinning. “The most exciting thing I was going to do this afternoon was give myself a pedicure while getting caught up on the current season of Game of Thrones.”
Jordan glanced down at her bare, slender feet. “Your feet are as gorgeous and sexy as the rest of you, and it’s too perfect of a day to stay indoors and watch a bunch of people in fur robes plot to murder and betray each other. So what say we gather up your things, head over to my private little corner of paradise, and get to know each other a little better?” He gave her a conspiratorial little wink. “And you’ll have the added bonus of being able to check out the hotel competition first hand.”
The Girl of His Dreams (Bachelor #1) Page 3