The Guardian: A NOVEL

by Pamela Ann

  He wasn’t all that exhausted to commit to a fuckfest all night long, though.

  Shifting my stance, I cleared my throat as I longingly regarded the gorgeous man before me. “How is he? Papa, I mean. He hasn’t been home, and each time I call, he doesn’t pick up.”

  Something crossed his face. “He’s been busy; we both have been. Do you want me to tell him to call you?”

  “No.” I vehemently shook my head. “Uh, tell him to take care and that I miss him, though, will you?”

  “I will.” He nodded, staring at me for a moment before catching himself. He shrugged as if dispelling a horrid thought. “You can go to the headquarters and see him yourself, you know.”

  “I doubt he’d be pleased. I get how eccentric he can be when he’s on the verge of completion. I’ll let him be the great genius that he is.”

  He glanced at his watch again before blowing out a slow breath, his patience evidently running thin.

  “Where’s your date?”

  Pressing his lips, he shrugged, clearly perturbed. “I have no idea.”

  I could’ve stood there, staring at him until he left. But I’d done it so much over the years that ogling him like a morsel with people milling around clearly was out of the question. “Well, it’s good seeing you, Jared. Have a good evening.”

  “You, too, Gisele.”

  Walking away from him then shattered something inside me. He was waiting for Lexi, who would never show up again. The only reminder I’d have of tonight was the memories and the epic soreness in between my thighs. Apart from that, it was as if it had never happened; it had never existed.

  Like an aberration. A momentary relapse that would eventually be forgotten.

  3

  Gisele

  We were basking in the bright sun, sunbathing on the vast white glossy deck after enjoying a hearty lunch consisting of Jambon-Beurre, roasted chicken, pasta niçoise, classic croquet monsieur, green salad, strawberry crepes, lemon macarons, an endless supply of rosé champagne, and finishing off with a tasty grand cheeseboard. We were marooned off the coast of the French Riviera a little off Monaco before sailing towards Capri then Sicily to Malta and Corfu to Croatia then to the Greek islands before rerouting back to the French Riviera. Some of these places we’d be staying for a day or two, and then we’d be off to the next destination.

  “He does, doesn’t he?” Vivienne breathlessly gushed before directing her gaze towards the junior deckhand one level below us. He was guiding Ethan, Blair’s brother, to his jet ski. “I say hop on it, babe. High time you indulge in summer flings—if you’re not against going for the help, that is.”

  Him being a deckhand took no part in my hesitancy. I wasn’t a snob. I didn’t value people through their net worth.

  “It’s freaky, but then again, Gisele might find it arousing.” Blair cheekily winked at me. “His name’s Jack Yates. Twenty-one years old. British. Very single and very ready to tingle.” She tilted her head towards the sun, eyes closed with a tranquil look on her face, the epitome of contentment.

  This Jack Yates had been the topic of conversation from the moment we had boarded the yacht yesterday. The man had a wee bit of a resemblance to Jared. It was more pronounced on his side profile. The front? Not so much.

  Shaking my head, I huffed out a breath, smiling at their mad suggestion, before shifting onto my stomach so my backside would evenly tan. “I can’t just hook up with anyone. I didn’t purposely lose it so I could bed hop to the closest Jared-looking candidate my eyes spot next.” Reaching behind my back, I untied the knot on my bikini top, quite ready to drop the subject. However, my friends seemed too tickled at the idea of ‘tasting variety.’ They believed I was depressed after walking away from Jared. I wasn’t technically that depressed. Saddened, yeah, but who wouldn’t be in my position? But at the same time, I had made a deal with myself to move on. They deemed my reluctance to hook up with the deckhand as not moving on from my unrequited fixation.

  Vivienne chucked a sunscreen bottle at me, beautiful light blue eyes full of mischief. “I took the liberty of inviting him to go clubbing with us tonight. We’ll sail right after that. He didn’t have any reservations about having fun and posing as our protection at the same time. Good deal all around.”

  We already had Ethan to keep us in check. Our parents—no, scratch that—Blair and Vivienne’s parents insisted a man tag along. Ethan volunteered for the job since the thought of interning under his brother, Wyatt, in their hedge fund company didn’t appeal to him. So, with Ethan around, there was no need to add on another muscle for protection. My friends had concocted this plan so Jack Yates and I could converse in a friendlier environment.

  “Fun night ahead for our Gisele. I bet Jack can chase Jared out of you. Relax, sit back, and let him take you for a good ride, I say.”

  I blushed deeply. Blair’s lurid suggestion created a vivid visualization in my mind—I was writhing underneath Jack’s large muscular frame while he roughly darted in and out between my thighs, all inhibitions thrown out the window. I swallowed the thick lump in my throat, feeling somewhat parched.

  “You guys are becoming obnoxious. I’ll get there when I get there, okay?” After roughly tying the knot on my white bikini top back into place, I pushed against my palms before getting on my feet. “I need a drink,” I muttered under my breath before strutting towards the short flight of stairs, abandoning this momentary annoyance. They laughed as I left, and all I could do was shrug it off and not take it personally. Blair and Vivienne meant well, but they went above and beyond to make it such a hellish experience for me.

  I fingered through my hair before I lightly tugged at the ends, hoping the wavy beach locks were still in place as I absentmindedly strolled towards the bar. I momentarily paused when I spotted Jack behind the bar, seeming engrossed in the list he had in his hand as he went over the inventory.

  I cleared my throat as I carefully approached the bar. His uncanny resemblance to Jared when I was facing his side profile was jarring. I felt my heart pick up speed. A nervous smile crossed my lips as I rested my hands on the white marble counterpane. “Hello.”

  Jack Yates looked up with a smooth grin that lit up his face, showing perfect teeth. He had warm brown eyes, not cerulean blue ones like the man back home. “Miss Weber, can I get you anything?” he placed the clipboard down as he focused on me.

  It was unnerving to face him when only minutes ago, my friends were taunting me to pursue him. “You know your way around drinks?” Normally, a bartender or one of the wait staff was around. But I supposed they were having lunch, and if that were the case, I wouldn’t want to intrude.

  He granted me a perfect smile before licking his lips, drawing my eyes to his red puckers. “Of course. I’m quite decent,” he said with a light chuckle, warm brown eyes dancing with amusement.

  I broke into a matching grin, feeling quite silly I was even nervous being around him. “I want something light, non-bubbly, definitely alcoholic, and fruity.”

  Jack made a quick nod. “Right away, madam.” A flirty, playful smile tugged at his lips.

  Focused on making the drink, Jack gave me a great view of his side profile, and my stomach immediately dropped. My eyes absorbed everything he did. Oddly enough, I found myself fascinated.

  Damn. Whether I’d like to admit it or not, apparently any man who looked like Jared had an effect on me. Unfortunately.

  Engaged in filling the silver shaker with alcohol, freshly crushed berries, he took a peek at me, catching me intensely scrutinizing him. “Are you having a bit of fun sunbathing?” he softly inquired, his husky British tone making me tingle in certain places.

  My blush deepened. Had he been watching us? Probably. It was somewhat part of his job to make sure he knew where we were at all times.

  “Yeah, I suppose I am,” I calmly responded before I reached out over the bar for a piece of olive, and then I felt something snap. In a heartbeat, my bikini top unraveled on its own; it came loose around
my torso. Since the top part was still secured, it rode above my breasts, giving Jack Yates a full frontal of my bountiful assets.

  “What the ever loving—” Fuck! How embarrassing! My cheeks profusely flamed as I tried my damnedest to cover my full C-cups. Unfortunately, they pushed up and overflowed over my hands.

  “Let me help you.” Jack came behind me. His hands softly grazed the sides of my torso as he instructed me to let go so he could pull the triangles. Reluctantly, I did as he asked before I felt the top tightening around me, secured. He dipped his head close to my ear, warm breath teasing my ear. “You don’t have to be disconcerted. You have a gorgeous set,” he murmured before I felt him let go of me.

  Oh, hell. He was toying with me, and I wasn’t sure how to respond to his blatant flirtation. I gulped nervously as I tentatively watched him round the bar to finish my drink.

  I licked my lips, still aroused from his breath brushing my skin. “Are you always this … frisky?”

  “It depends,” he responded before glancing at me and rapidly beginning moving the shaker with one hand then tipping it over the champagne flute, and purplish liquid poured out of it. “I couldn’t help it. You looked quite rattled. You’re too gorgeous not to see you smile.”

  He liked me; there was no mistaking it. But his bold compliments hadn’t necessarily bought me over yet.

  “Well, thanks all the same,” I said as I grasped my drink from the counterpane. “See you around.” I threw him a frown before walking back on the deck, barefoot, and quite unsure what to make of that impromptu incident with Jack Yates. No way in hell would I tell my friends, though. They’d take it as a sign that it’d let him “chase Jared out of my vag.”

  The image of Jared standing in the foyer while waiting for me to show up still made me feel like a totally cold-hearted person. It was awful to do that to him, but I feared had I declined his offer, and since I’d already said yes to his previous invitation, that he wouldn’t take no for an answer the second time. I had taken the easy way out, but it had been the only way I could get away from him without drawing suspicion. It had been eight days since that night, and he hadn’t left my thoughts since.

  Had I crossed his mind? With his active sex life, he’d probably replaced Yovanna in his bed. His job was demanding, and one of the ways he unleashed stress was through sex—obliterating, mind-numbing, titillating, out of this world sex. And based on my one-time experience with him, Jared was also a demanding lover. Had I gone with him back to the hotel, he’d have taken me a few more times. The hunger I felt vibrating off his body as he thrust inside me was too intense to die out quickly. He’d have expelled all his strength and energy on me. Those sinful lips of his whispered the delightful things he intended to do to me the second he had me fully naked and at his disposal—all night long, he promised.

  My bosom felt heavy. I could feel my aroused nipples straining against the fabric of my bikini. A shiver ran through me at thought of him. To this day, I could still feel him inside me, throbbing, larger than life.

  Oh, Jared, I thought with great regret. Was it foolish of me to walk away? The question still haunted me, but the truth also couldn’t be denied, Jared lusted after Lexi, not the real me. So, debating and harping over it was futile since he never cared to look at me twice.

  Admitting the truth still profoundly wounded me.

  Unrequited love. It was the most damning kind of emotion. Like a whirlpool, it sucked you in and it ceaselessly spun in a maddening merry-go-round, never stopping until it had drained you dry and stripped you of any inhibitions, of any rights, until you’d surrendered. It mercilessly took you apart piece-by-piece; it dismantled you, pillaging every layer you had until you were fully exposed, barren and unshielded from its fickle clutch.

  It perfectly depicted my sorry state. From the very moment my eyes caught sight of him, I’d been drawn to him since. One obliterating look was all it took to make me fall at his feet. Try as I might to get his unwavering attention, the man simply wasn’t interested in me.

  Nothing like being doused with ice-cold truth. It stung like no other.

  It is time to move on, I thought with a heavy pang in my heart. Pining for a man who plainly saw me as Peter Weber’s daughter was a waste of time.

  Tonight, maybe I’d decide to walk on the wild side. Maybe Jack Yates wasn’t a bad idea, after all.

  4

  Gisele

  We’d been seated in the club for less than thirty minutes before Blair and Vivienne deliberately left me at the booth with Jack while they dragged poor Ethan to dance with them. They weren’t so slick. It stunk of a setup, and I hoped Jack didn’t see it that way. I’d feel triple embarrassed after this afternoon’s incident if he did.

  A smile tugged at Jack’s lips, amused at the blatant attempt my friends had made to try to make us happen. It seemed he was the type whose cheeks reddened once alcohol got into their system. The look softened him; it enhanced his boyish good looks.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, grinning, “I swear they’re not normally crazy—wait, I take that back. Yeah, they’re always insane.” Shrugging, I downed my martini in two gulps, feeling brave enough to hold out my hand, staring at him. “Dance with me.”

  “About time you asked,” he stood up.

  I obviously knew he wasn’t Jared, but somehow, I found comfort at the thought that this could be the second best. If I couldn’t have the real one, then his close doppelganger would do. Insane didn’t come close to describing my train of thought, but a broken heart wasn’t known for rationalizing things. And in this moment, I simply wanted to forget. Lose myself in Jack, hoping he’d be the man who had the power to make me get over Jared St. James.

  Well, it didn’t necessarily happen in that order. It took me five days until I allowed him to kiss me. Another three until we did the dirty. I wasn’t sure what I expected. My naiveté sure caught me by surprise. After experiencing Jared’s size, having a quarter of that magnitude trying to poke you…Well, I was beyond astonished. Sure, it still felt good, but it wasn’t anything mind-blowing or earth-shattering. It simply was—well, shallow poking.

  Things weren’t all that splendid, but I appreciated Jack’s enthusiasm since he was a great diversion from my broken heart. But after the first night we had sex, his demeanor changed. He began to complain that work hindered us being together. Stuck in a sticky situation, I didn’t utter a word to my friends. Dating me shouldn’t alter his work ethic. He was specially hired on board to do a job. But each day, he would grate about it to the point where he even offered to quit so we could be with each other at all times.

  I’d have said no, too, but I was getting lonely, and I reluctantly budged. My friends weren’t pleased, but they kept it to themselves. After all, if it weren’t for their insistence, I wouldn’t have thought of Jack as my rebound person. With my allowance bankrolling our shopping and whatever activities we did out of the yacht, I thought we were on the same page. But on several occasions, I caught Jack drunk and flirting with other women. On one particular night in Capri, I yanked him away before he almost kissed a woman.

  We had our first major row back in our hotel room. After promising me the moon and back, I forgave him.

  I suppose I should’ve seen the signs. But I was truly caught off guard when I found his unlocked phone after passing out drunk. Jack was dating two more women; apparently one was back in UK and another in Monaco.

  After learning the fact, I wasn’t necessarily angry. Disgusted maybe? A little bit used? But then again, I argued that I was somewhat using him to get over Jared, too. So, in a way, we’re quite even.

  I’d have kicked him off the boat right then and there, but we were in the middle of the sea, sailing towards Croatia. So, for another half a day, I endured his sullen presence. He felt attacked when I confronted him about it. His fury doubled when I broke up with him without an ounce of hesitation. But I didn’t give a damn. He’d crossed me twice now. The first offense, I could forgive. The second? Never
. Besides, the decision wasn’t a hardship. It wasn’t as if I was in love with him or anything, or he was granting me obliterating sex, so might as well cut my teeny losses and get on with life.

  The second we moored off the coast of Croatia, Jack instantly rushed out of my bedroom, huffing as he obscenely mouthed how ungrateful I was before hopping towards the speedboat, leaving me alone.

  We previously had plans for a spa and sightseeing, but when my phone alarm went off, reminding me of my period—well, things became quite interesting.

  Dread filled me as my body began to profusely sweat. I was insistent with Jack wearing a condom every single time. Unless…

  My throat ached at the idea.

  Jared didn’t wear one. Was it even possible? God, I hoped not. This would be cruel in the cruelest of ways.

  So, instead of joining my friends to explore the new city, the moment I spotted an unassuming pharmacy, I lamely excused myself, telling them that I had to search for Jack. At this point, they were over him—as was I, but they didn’t know that yet.

  “Hello. I need a pregnancy test.” I nervously smiled at the seventy-ish old man who stood behind the counter, blankly staring back at me.

  When he simply frowned, I wanted to die on the spot. Could this day get any worse? Fuck.

  Okay. Breath in. Breath out. There’s no point in panicking. The poor man might need me to be elaborate. After all, I was in a foreign country. One shouldn’t expect everyone spoke English. I’m sure most of the country do, but a few were an exception. It was just my luck I had to step into one that made my life more of a struggle. Surprised at my unlucky streak as of late? Not entirely.

  “Erm,” I awkwardly said as my mind scattered about the small pharmacy and found a stack of diapers. Pointing at it, I began to describe it to him. “Test for beba.” My hand mimicked a burgeoning baby over my belly. “Beba testing…pregnancy test…if there’s a beba.”