“My parents brought up a hypothetical situation that involved joining two companies. Theirs with another that would make both stronger. But they wanted to keep the business in the family. Daddy insisted on it and Mother thought it only made sense, especially since she knew of two companies that had gone through the same thing. A business marriage had joined and saved them both.”
Kingsley could see where this was going from a mile off. His parents probably would’ve had the same idea, but he doubted they would have compromised the happiness of any of their thirteen children to make it happen.
“I was in college at the time,” Adah said. “I had broken up with a boyfriend and was actually a little burned-out on relationships.”
“At twenty years old?” Kingsley remembered what he’d known about relationships as a college student. Precisely nothing. He had only been playing at being a grown-up then.
Adah took a sip of her now-watery rum punch. “In hindsight, it was a foolish promise to make. But I did make it. When my mother asked me to, I offered myself up as half of the company to be joined in marriage to a potential business partner. At the time, it made sense since...” She pressed her lips together, suppressing whatever it was she was about to say. “Anyway, it’s done.”
“And now you’re having second thoughts?”
“Now I’m thinking I made a mistake. Bennett is a great guy—” Kingsley frowned at the mention of another man, her fiancé apparently, feeling an unfamiliar kick of jealousy in his belly “—but he’s not the man for me.”
“Is he forcing you to go through with the marriage?”
“No. He’s been nothing but supportive. He says that whatever I want to do is fine with him. But...” She pressed her lips together again. “This isn’t just about me. My parents need this. And I’m the only child they have left.”
Kingsley wasn’t a believer in no-win situations. Adah was an adult. She was a person who could determine her own future—she didn’t have to rely on others to sketch out what that future would look like, especially since she wanted children and was willing to compromise that most basic and essential of desires just to make other people’s lives more tolerable. As a businessman and as a person who determined the fate of dozens of people and billions of dollars on a weekly basis, he was already turning over the problem in his head and trying to find a solution.
“You don’t have to accept that as the final decision, Adah. You deserve to be happy.”
“I know,” Adah said, but she didn’t sound convinced. “It’s been more difficult than ever the last few weeks. The closer we come to finalizing the engagement, the more uncertain I get. I just don’t want to let my parents down.”
But I don’t want you to marry another man. “I know what it’s like to have the weight of your family’s expectations pressing you down,” he said. “It’s a burden, and it’s also a responsibility. Family, blood and chosen, is important in a way that nothing else will ever be. I understand not wanting to disappoint them.” He flexed his fingers around his nearly empty glass. “Ultimately, you have to do what feels right for you.”
A sad smile curved Adah’s mouth. “I just want to run away from it all.”
Kingsley would happily provide that escape for her if that was what she wanted.
“So, now you know my story.” She took a long and loud breath.
“I do.” Her situation was one he understood too well even though he had happily and gratefully taken over the responsibility of being CEO of his family’s company. He had the mind for it, the time and the interest. Unlike most of his siblings, who had other interests and would rather build their fortunes and their financial lives separate from the Diallo empire. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“You’re welcome. And now I think I’m done talking about it.” She looked pained, and Kingsley felt like an ass for being the reason she had to dive back into that place that brought her so much discomfort.
Talking about her troubles with a virtual stranger, even if it was someone she wanted to take to bed, obviously only made the pain of it all more intense and amplified the weight of the burden she was trying to avoid. But escape was only a temporary solution. Kingsley’s own yearly diversion was temporary, as well. He had no desire to completely sever the responsibilities of being a Diallo. Distance was what he craved, that and the ability to just be himself for a few weeks, separate from the face of the Diallo Corporation, and even from Miami.
“All right,” Kingsley said. “Let’s be done then.” He drained the last of his punch, noticed Adah was nearly finished with hers and ordered another round for them both after she nodded in agreement.
Then another round of drinks and another hour of conversation passed. Kingsley was just telling Adah about his best friend, Victor, and his new wife when he noticed they were about to have company.
A trio of men walked toward them from down the beach, their focused gazes making it clear they were heading for the bar. There weren’t enough seats to fit them all.
“Let’s move to the beach,” Kingsley said to Adah once they’d gotten their latest round of fresh drinks from an amused Josue. She tipped her shoulder in agreement and picked up her drink to follow him across the hot sand.
The water was calm, a nice change from the day he’d arrived. A storm had followed him from Miami to cloud the waters, making the swimming unpleasantly rough for at least two days. The day he’d met Adah was actually the first clear day since he’d been on the island. He’d celebrated that beautiful bit of happenstance with a sunset swim. Tranquil water and Adah. A beautiful and unforgettable correlation. He wished still waters for her as well, so she could see her way out of her dilemma. In the meantime, he’d see for himself what options were available to her.
The palapa he led her to was one of seven scattered on the beach in front of Josue’s bar. Beyond the bar and farther from the beach was a hotel now closed for renovations. This meant the beach was less busy than usual, nearly empty, the hotel’s palapas left unoccupied and dozens of unused beach chairs piled nearby. With the bar over a dozen yards behind them and slightly uphill, the stretch of beach felt deserted.
Kingsley guided Adah to the palapa that had a hammock already strung beneath it.
“Climb in,” he said.
She looked at him, blinking and clutching the glass of rum punch to her chest. “Where are you going to sit?”
He confessed to himself in that moment that he might have been a little bit tipsy. Tipsy enough that sharing a hammock with Adah seemed like a good thing, a practical thing even, to do. They would be talking. They could rest their drinks on the small shelves within arm’s reach at the corners of the palapa. These were thoughts that he may not necessarily have had while completely sober. Or maybe he just wouldn’t have acted on them.
“I’ll lay at the other end,” he said. That sounded feasible enough.
Adah must have thought so, too, because she handed him her drink, kicked off her sandals and climbed into the hammock, swinging up into the dark cloth in a way that was by no means graceful but incredibly cute. He coughed out a laugh.
“Are you laughing at me?” she asked once she was settled into the depths of the swaying hammock.
“Well, I am laughing.”
She shook her head and subsided into the swaying thing, one leg hanging over the side. Kingsley put both their drinks on the shelf near her head, then got in beside her, tucking their hips side by side, being careful to keep his feet away from her face. As he settled in at the opposite end, instead of avoiding her feet, he clasped them between his hands and rested them on his chest.
“There’s sand on my feet,” she said, trying to pull them out of his hands.
“I’m sure there’s already sand all over me from before,” he said and kept her feet right where they were. He dropped his head back and sighed, breathing in the sa
lty sea air and allowing relaxation to overtake his body. “This is nice.”
She shifted against him. “Yeah.”
He heard her hum again in agreement and felt her gaze on him, but he kept his eyes shut and enjoyed the vague fuzziness in his brain, a luxury he didn’t often indulge in. Although he wasn’t on duty as CEO of Diallo Corporation while on the island, he usually kept his intoxication to a minimum, wanting to be ready at a moment’s notice if anyone from home urgently needed him. Even in his freest moments, he caught himself thinking of his family and other responsibilities. They were never far from his mind. His phone in its waterproof case was zipped into the pocket of his shorts and set to vibrate so he would feel it ring.
It was a long time before he felt Adah’s feet relax against his chest; a slow loosening of fine muscles, then her toes drooping to point toward opposite sides of the hammock. With his eyes still closed, he patted the lean line of her foot. He felt a tremor ripple through her leg before he heard the sound of her drinking from her cup. He popped an eye open.
“What about me?” He reached out his hand and she rolled her eyes at him before stretching to the shelf near her to get his drink. Her fingers were hot when they brushed against his, scorching compared with the cool condensation on the glass.
“Thank you.” Kingsley lifted his head to drink deeply. He finished it in a few long gulps, then passed the empty glass back to her, the hammock rocking with his movement. Adah’s body was so beautifully warm against him, pressed hip to hip, thigh to torso. They lay together in the swaying hammock with the wind buffeting their bodies, the light moving slowly across the sky and the beach toward sunset. It was fast becoming one of the best times he’d ever spent at Josue’s bar.
“I feel like I should be doing something else,” Adah said, her voice low and relaxed, beautiful to hear after the tension that had vibrated through it while they’d talked at the bar.
“What else do you have to do?” Kingsley asked, trailing his fingers over the tops of her feet. “You’re on vacation, aren’t you?”
“Like you said, I’m escaping from a situation I’ve put myself in. I should be strategizing, planning. Or at least planning my outfit for the funeral pyre.”
He rolled his head to look at her, very much enjoying the outfit she was wearing now. The shorts showed off her slender thighs and hips while the tank top draped loosely in alluring lines over her modest breasts and flat stomach. “Make sure it’s something that catches fire quickly and looks good on Instagram.”
She giggled. “What do you know about Instagram?”
“I have younger brothers and sisters I need to keep an eye on. I know every way there is for them to get into trouble.”
“Damn. Really? You sound like a scary big brother to have.”
“I’m the kind of big brother those hoodlums deserve,” he said, feeling the smile spread across his face at the thought of his younger siblings. All of them, even the two who were married and living lives beyond the house where they’d all grown up in Miami.
Adah caught the smile and turned away to put her drink on the shelf nearby, something unreadable on her face. When she turned back to him, Kingsley saw envy, admiration.
“Do you have any siblings?” he asked.
The look on her face changed, became one of pain. “No. Not anymore.”
Damn. “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”
She fumbled for her glass and took a long swallow from it, draining it down to half. “Good, then I won’t.” She put the drink back and her head lolled in the hammock as she looked at him, then away toward the horizon where the sun was beginning to spread the warm colors of sunset. After a moment’s quiet, she looked back at him. “Am I a downer or what? Pretty soon I won’t have anything we can talk about without me crying my eyes out.”
“I haven’t seen any tears today. You must be talking about another Adah.” He caressed the tops of her feet again, wishing he could take all her sorrow away. When she allowed herself joy, she lit up like the sky at noon.
A shaky smile claimed her mouth. “You’re surprisingly sweet.”
“I’d prefer another adjective, but I’ll work with that for now.” She bit the corner of her lip, obviously still uncomfortable about where their conversation had meandered before. Kingsley brushed his fingertips along the softness of her toes, her ankles, the bottoms of her feet.
“Oh my God, stop!” She jerked against him, laughter gushing from her mouth as she yanked her feet away from his hands. With her feet safely out of his reach, her laughter trailed away. She blinked at him as if he’d just betrayed her.
“I guess you’re ticklish then.”
“Don’t even think about it.”
“I won’t. Promise.”
Although she watched him with suspicion, she slowly brought her feet back to him, her muscles tense in preparation to pull back again.
“I always keep my promises, Adah.” He said the words very seriously.
“Okay.” She relaxed against him again, and he only held her feet between his palms, thumbs making soothing circles around her ankle bones.
“Now, tell me,” he said once she was no longer on the brink of flying away from him in a flap of limbs like some startled exotic bird. “What things have you done since you’ve been here? If I’m going to distract you with an escape, I need to know what you like.”
Her lashes flickered low over her eyes, sleepy-tipsy; then she began to talk.
Adah talked like she wanted to release everything. Her exhaustion, her commitments, the secret desires she’d held for herself and away from everyone who knew her.
“I thought about going skydiving, but what if I died?” Her lush eyebrows went up. “Maybe if I died, I wouldn’t have to worry about marrying Bennett.”
Kingsley let that comment go without making one of his own, let her continue what was essentially a monologue on what she loved or thought she loved or wanted to try. He continued to caress her feet, delicate touches of his fingers that soon had her squirming against him while she talked and he responded with hums of agreement or some input on his own experience with that particular thing. He tried to ignore the minute movements of her body alongside his, the hot press of her thigh against his thigh, her hips rocking in a subtle but rhythmic motion that helped move the hammock in the breeze.
It built a slow arousal in him, the sensation of her skin beneath his fingers, her undulations, the purr of her voice entangled with the sound of the sea. The noise from the bar behind them seemed far away, so far away that he could easily pretend it didn’t exist.
“I’m not too interested in De Palm Island, but I did try it once,” he said in response to one of her comments.
“What did you think?”
“You should try it for yourself, then tell me what you think.”
She tilted her head to look at him, her tongue caught between her teeth. Kingsley’s fingers gripped tighter than they should have. He felt the catch of her breath in the way her feet moved, not a flinch but a twitch that spoke of something else than an awareness of pain.
A bolt of arousal churned Kingsley’s hips in the hammock and her gaze dipped to his lap, and stayed.
“I don’t think...”
When she didn’t say anything else, he let go of her feet, tucked them together near his shoulder. He didn’t mistake her look of disappointment for anything else, and it was that more than anything that made him climb from the hammock, making it sway dangerously. She gripped its edges, simply looking up at him, watching to see what else he would do.
Kingsley had nearly four drinks in him. He should leave this alone and go back to his house and handle things with a few strokes of his hand. Instead he climbed back into the hammock so they were facing the same direction, sighing in gratitude and anticipatory pleasure when she slid
back to give him room. His hips in the hammock next to hers, then their legs stretching out together, their bellies touching, his head rising up higher than hers to look down into her waiting eyes and see what she would do, wait for what she would say.
“Kingsley...”
The way she said his name undid him. He cupped the back of her neck, moaning quietly at the arousal that pooled in his belly, heavy and warm. He could smell the rum punch on her breath, the lingering remains of some sort of flavored lip balm.
“There’s a ride on the island you should try...” He dipped his mouth toward hers the same time that she moaned out a laugh, but it was perfect. She was perfect.
Their lips came together in an openmouthed kiss that was immediately hungry, wet. Her mouth under his was so pulse-poundingly arousing that he cursed himself for not indulging again long before now. It might have been the place, the rush of the ocean over the sand—like a whisper of yes, yes, yes—it might have been the way her legs shifted against his as she turned into the shelter of the hammock, or it might have even been the sunset’s burn in the sky above them. Whatever it was made him ache with lust and want and desire and everything in between.
Her hand slid up his chest, over his shirt to the bare skin of his throat. She was a yielding, soft thing to his kiss, but the way her hand drifted to his throat spoke of firmer desires. And he remembered all too well the way she’d raked her nails across his chest and nipples the night of Elina’s party. He wanted that ferocity from her again. The ache in his groin demanded it.
She must have read his mind because her tongue slid firmly into his mouth, meeting his stroke for stroke, a wet snaking, powerful and fierce, that negated anything that he had ever thought about her being a tender thing to be seduced. She took her pleasure from the kiss just like he did, meeting the demanding caress of his tongue with one of her own, the wet slide of their mouth, the slow curl of her hips against his in the hammock. Their hips rocked together. Slow. Hard.
The Pleasure of His Company Page 10