Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

by Nicole Morgan

  “Next weekend.” Erin grinned. “You’re always saying you can do design work anywhere. Pack your laptop and go.”

  Anna sighed. She already knew she was fighting a losing battle. Erin’s determination and persuasive skills were legendary. Still, she’d make her best friend work for it before she gave in. “Where is it?”

  “Eden Isle. It’s a resort near St. Lucia.”

  “I know where it is.” Anna started, her heart slamming jackrabbit fast in her chest. She closed her eyes, the echo of the chocolate still on her tongue reminding her of that one sinful night with Carter. She’d never forgotten what his big hands felt like, caressing her, loving her, treasuring her. Anna swallowed hard. She didn’t want to think about that one passionate night right now. “I’ve been, actually.”

  “You’ve been?”

  “Years ago.” Anna pressed on. “Right after my divorce was final. But it’s a singles resort. Why are they holding a wedding there?”

  “Apparently they’ve just built a new wedding chapel that they want to show off.”

  “And the bride just happens to write for Happily Ever After.”

  “Free publicity is the best kind. And hopefully, she’ll just happen to write about what an amazing job Always a Bridesmaid did too.” Erin said. “It’s just a few days. Not even a week.”

  “Okay.” Anna gave in. “I’ll do it.”

  “Thank you!” Erin squealed. “You’re off to Eden Isle.”

  CHAPTER 2

  A t ten minutes to midnight, just about 12 hours after she’d departed Savannah, Anna crossed the threshold into the lobby of the Eden Isle resort, travel weary and bone tired. The cool indoor air raised gooseflesh on her bare arms but was still a relief from the warm, sticky night outside. She balanced her wobbly suitcase behind her as she paused to survey the changes to the lobby.

  When she’d last visited, oversized palm leaf wall paper and kitschy decor overwhelmed the space. Now, it’d been transformed into a welcoming oasis of soaring teak pillars holding up a glass ceiling, decorated only with the glowing constellations visible in the unlit sky. Moonlight streamed over the intricate mosaics of patterned wood on the polished floor. Bamboo sofas covered with pale green cushions beckoned invitingly. The kinks in her back loosened as she drew a deep breath, the air scented with frangipani and the fresh scent of the waterfall splashing over a rock garden along the back wall. She’d discovered a tropical oasis.

  A man dressed in white linen trousers and a loose gray t-shirt lay on the farthest sofa, a white straw fedora covering his face, his arms crossed abdomen. The steady rise and fall of his chest indicated he slept soundly. Anna picked up her suitcase and tip-toed to the front desk, trying not to disturb him.

  “Hello?” She whispered when she realized there was no one there to check her in. She might have to curl up on one of the comfy looking sofas herself. She hid a yawn behind her hand and stretched discreetly. She’d like nothing more than to sleep for a week.

  “Well, if it isn’t Anna from Savannah.” A male voice drawled from behind her.

  It couldn’t be. She dreamt of that voice, with the hint of honeyed vowels and Tennessee hills, just edging toward raspy. Her shoulders—sore and achy from her twisted pretzel nap on the plane—drew tight before she whirled around.

  The man from the sofa stood behind her, a flirty smile on his lips. He stood tall, with tousled dark blonde hair, cowlicks sticking up all over his head and those incredible eyes, the color of the Caribbean sea just before a storm, blue-green with flecks of gold. His gray t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, highlighting his muscled chest and strong arms, his skin golden from the sun.

  Anna realized she’d been staring open-mouthed at him for several stunned seconds. She licked her dry lips and stammered, “Carter?”

  “In the flesh.”

  Five years ago, he’d been a guest, like her, out for a no-strings-attached good time. She’d never imagined seeing him again, after that one wild night. She shifted, wondering how it was possible he was here. What set of circumstances or providence would bring them both back to Eden Isle at the same time.?

  “What brings you here?” He asked, flashing a smile, his teeth pearly white against his tanned face.

  “I’m in a wedding.”

  He opened his mouth to say more when a soft voice behind them asked, “May I help you?”

  Anna turned to see a heavily pregnant woman—no more than a girl really—standing behind the front desk. She couldn’t be more than twenty but she wore a wedding ring on a chain around her neck, her rounded belly echoing the roundness of her cheeks.

  “Naomi, I got this. You stay off your feet.” Carter strode around the counter to pat the girl on the shoulder. She rubbed sleep from her eyes and yawned before shooting Carter a grateful smile.

  “Thanks, Mr. Prescott.” She waddled away, disappearing into the back room as Carter turned back to Anna.

  “Let’s get you checked in.”

  “You work here?”

  “Not usually at the front desk but since Naomi is about to welcome that baby any day, I’ve been helping out overnight,” Carter answered. “Now, what’s your last name?”

  “Westbrook.” Anna answered absently, lost in thoughts of the night she met Carter.

  She’d been with a group of her girlfriends, dancing in the tiny salsa bar on the beach. Carter’d been nursing a long-necked beer in an amber bottle because, when she decided to dance with him, she’d taken it from him and drained it before pulling him on to the dance floor, the taste of hops still bitter on her tongue. Later, they left precious little time for talking, allowing their bodies to communicate for them. She’d always assumed he’d been a guest like her, single and looking for a good time. She’d never imagined that Carter—her fantasy man—worked at Eden Isle.

  Carter tapped some keys on the computer and kept his eyes locked on the screen. She’s never expected to see him again, never expected to run into him after their uninhibited night together. Now, here she was, face to face with the man she’d spent the last five years remembering. He handed her a slim plastic key, their fingers brushing. Their gazes met and, in an instant, Anna knew he remembered their night together too.

  “How come you’re arriving so late?”

  “My plane was delayed due to fog. We sat on the tarmac at Atlanta for ages before I finally got to St. Thomas.”

  “I’m surprised you got out of St. Thomas this late.”

  “We left St. Thomas hours ago, in a tiny seaplane the size of a soda can,” Anna said. “I just made it to the last ferry.”

  “But the ferry docks at ten.” Carter’s forehead crumpled.

  “I couldn’t find a taxi so I walked.”

  “You walked from the ferry dock?”

  “How else was I supposed to get here?” Anna snapped. “It wouldn’t have been so bad if the wheel on my suitcase hadn’t snapped halfway up the hill.”

  “You have had a time of it, haven’t you?” Carter grinned at her. “You must be hungry.”

  “I’m fine.” Anna demurred but her stomach betrayed her by letting out a loud, echoing rumble.

  “Come on around here to the staff kitchen. I’ll whip something up for you.” He strode over to a cunningly hidden door beside the desk and swung it open. Anna hesitated for a moment, feeling wary, but, in the end, she followed him. She expected to find a dull, depressing break room, with a wonky vending machine and dirty microwave. Instead, he led her into a fully functional kitchen. Moonlight streamed through a wide row of windows along the back wall, making the stainless steel sink gleam like a mirror. Bamboo barstools ranged along an kitchen island inset with leaf green subway titles. Strands of glass in jewel tones dangled from the lighting fixture in the center, dappling the counter with color.

  She sank gratefully into a chair at the counter as Carter opened the fridge. Anna propped her head on her hand, fighting to stay awake, as he rattled around the kitchen.

  “There you go.” Carter�
��s words jolted Anna out of the doze she’d surrendered to. He placed a grilled cheese sandwich, the crust perfectly golden as gooey cheese oozed out the side, in front of her, before presenting her with a steaming mug of tomato soup, dusted with parmesan cheese. He turned back to the kitchen counter before grabbing another plate, with another sandwich, and a mug. “Going to take this to Naomi. You eat up.”

  Anna blinked down at the sandwich. She couldn’t remember the last time anyone made a simple meal for her. No one ever took care of her. For all that she was a strong independent woman, it was nice to be cared for. She picked up a sandwich triangle and bit into it, the sweet and savory combo of fig jam and brie cheese melting in her mouth. By the time Carter arrived back in the kitchen, only crumbs remained of the delicious sandwich as she sipped the warm, soothing soup.

  “Thank you,” Anna said but Carter waved off her thanks as he set to scrubbing the frying pan he’d used. “I didn’t realize that you worked here…um…you know, before.”

  “I didn’t. Not back then.” Carter wiped his hands on a dishtowel before tossing it over his shoulder and turning back to her. “But, things change.”

  “Didn’t want to leave paradise?”

  “Something like that.” Carter shrugged, ducking his head so his shaggy bangs fell across his eyes.

  Anna wanted to know more. She’d often wondered about Carter who she knew so intimately and also not at all. But, sensing he didn’t want her to pry, swallowed the rest of her soup before standing. “Thanks for the meal. It was delicious.”

  “You’re welcome. And welcome to Eden Isle.”

  * * *

  “YOU READY to show off Carter’s folly?” Oliver Prescott, the owner of Eden Isle, who also happened to be his grandfather, strolled up to Carter in the sunny lobby the next morning, a white porcelain cup of rich black coffee in his hand.

  Together, they watched sleepy-eyed guests meander into the beachside breakfast buffet. His grandfather stood tall, tanned, and trim, with just a dusting of silver hair at his temples to make him look distinguished. This morning, he’d already played a round of golf, just after sunrise, and still wore a dark polo shirt over perfectly pressed khakis. Next to him, Carter became acutely aware that he’d slept in his own rumpled clothes.

  “If the bride would ever show up,” Carter muttered.

  “You wouldn’t be the first guy waiting at the altar for a bride that doesn’t show. Course, normally, it’s the groom that’s waiting, not the guy who sunk nearly a million dollars into a fancy wedding chapel,” Oliver nudged Carter’s shoulder with his own to soften the sting of his teasing before taking a sip of his coffee.

  Carter rubbed his forehead, trying to stave off the headache already brewing behind his eyes. Today promised to be a long day and the wedding was still three days away.

  Five years ago, after a hurricane flattened Eden Isle, Carter and his grandfather teamed up to rebuild the once kitschy resort into the gorgeous, eco-friendly place it was today. Over time, with a lot of money, hard work, and determination, Eden Isle become one of the Caribbean’s premier eco-tourism destinations.

  But Carter felt it could be more. The wedding chapel had been his idea from the start. Couples looking for a wedding destination couldn’t do better than the raw natural beauty of Eden Isle to celebrate in and eco-friendly bridal locations were rare. After over a year of arguing his case with his mule of a grandfather, it took two years to construct Carter’s masterpiece. He’d insisted on using only local materials, such as wood from the island and recycled glass. And now, finally, the chapel was ready. They just needed one amazing wedding.

  “Why is this wedding so important again?” Oliver asked.

  “The bride works for Happily Ever After. It’s the top bridal blog in the US. If she’s happy with her experience—“

  “She should be. She’s getting a free wedding out of it.”

  “Then she’ll give us a good recommendation. If we get a five diamond ring review, than—“

  “All the other sheep—I mean blushing brides—will be lining up to get hitched there, dragging their reluctant grooms behind.” Oliver nodded. “It’s a good plan for publicity, even if I don’t know what a blog is.”

  “A blog is like an online magazine, Gramps.”

  “Still don’t know what it is.”

  Though Oliver was a spry seventy, he liked to pretend he was far older—and more ornery—than he actually was. Sometimes, Carter wasn’t sure if he was pretending or, by pretending so long, he’d actually become ornery. Probably a bit of both. Oliver Prescott remained one of the sharpest businessmen in the world. He just liked giving Carter a hard time.

  A dark-haired woman, her hair in an elegant twist, stepped off the elevator. She wore a strapless sundress the color of a hibiscus flower. Even before she turned her face toward them, Carter recognized her from the set of her shoulders. Anna.

  He still couldn’t believe his Anna from Savannah had come back into his life at just this moment. He’d never imagined he’d see her again and yet, here she was, a bridesmaid in his had-to-be perfect wedding. She gifted him with a rare smile and a quick wave before strolling over to join them.

  “Anna, this is Oliver Prescott. He owns Eden Isle.” The sultry-sweet scent of her perfume—gardenias and honey mixed with a spice he couldn’t quite identify—teased him with a torrent of vivid memories. Closing his mind to the past, Carter turned to his grandfather, praying the old rascal would behave. “Anna is from Savannah.”

  “Enchante.” He murmured, as though he hailed from Paris rather than the backwoods of Kentucky. His grandfather excused a courtly bow and brushed his lips over the back of her hand. Carter just managed not to roll his eyes.

  The corners of Anna’s mouth tipped up in amusement. “You’re also Carter’s grandfather, right?”

  “You’re perceptive enough to see the resemblance between this handsome young man and this elderly decrepit one?”

  “A bit,” Anna agreed easily. “But actually I did my senior project on Prescott Properties too.”

  “Brains and beauty.” Oliver still hadn’t let go of Anna’s hand and now he gave her a charming smile. Carter recognized when Oliver decided to flirt and stepped forward, forcing them to break apart. He placed a hand on Anna’s shoulder, her bare skin warm and silky under his fingers. “The breakfast buffet is just through there.”

  “I was supposed to meet the bride in the lobby at ten,” she murmured.

  “Her flight from New York is delayed due to storms,” Carter said. “Why don’t you eat and we’ll go check out the wedding chapel after that.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Anna gave them a cheery wave and departed, her full skirt swaying as she walked gracefully away.

  “You know her?”

  “We’ve met.” Carter tore his gaze away from Anna.

  Oliver raised his eyebrows before attempting to hide his grin behind his coffee mug, “I see.”

  “You don’t see. Look, it was once, a long time ago, a lifetime ago, before.” Carter trailed off, not wanting to think about the mess he’d been back then.

  “And now, after?”

  “And now nothing,” Carter shrugged, sticking his hands in his pockets. He’d fought hard to become the man he was today, instead of the aimless drifter Anna had known. “Other than having the same goal—a perfect wedding. She’s a professional bridesmaid so she should be some help.”

  “She’s a what now?”

  “A professional bridesmaid.” At Oliver’s confused expression, Carter continued, “It’s like a wedding planner in a bridesmaid’s dress.”

  “Every time I got married, the bride wanted to rope all her friends and relations into dressing up. Why on God’s green earth would someone hire a bridesmaid?”

  “And how smoothly did that friends and relations bridal party go? Each and every time?” Carter had been to several of his grandfather’s weddings over the years, each more memorable than the last. “Remember at that luau you threw w
hen you married Cecilia and her bridesmaid threw the bouquet back at her? Or what about your third—or was it second—?”

  “You may have a point but no need to stroll down Memory Lane today, thank you kindly.” Oliver patted Carter’s shoulder. “You’ve done well. I must say that I never expected all this when I dragged your rum soaked butt off the floor.”

  Carter didn’t have time for distractions, no matter how pretty they looked in a red sundress. Now wasn’t the moment to re-live his past. This wedding was about the future. The future he’d created, out of sheer will and grit and determination here on the island. He had other big dreams, other plans for the resort and for Prescott Properties, but this wedding held the key to all of them. If he could pull it off, he would finally prove to his grandfather that he could run Prescott Properties. It couldn’t derail now or it would all go back to ash and rubble.

  No matter how tempting Anna might look in her pretty red sundress.

  CHAPTER 3

  A nna bypassed the sumptuous breakfast buffet and, after grabbing a quick cup of coffee, headed to the balcony overlooking the undulating turquoise waves below. She found an alcove away from the breezy morning and speed dialed Erin.

  “Send Abby.” Anna said, without so much as a greeting, as soon as Erin picked up.

  “Hello to you too.” Erin answered, sounding distracted and breathless. “I can’t find my phone charger.”

  “You’ve got six spare ones. Grab one of those.” Anna answered, “And send Abby. I can’t be a bridesmaid in this wedding.”

  “Why not?”

  “I just can’t.” Anna closed her eyes as the memories of her night with Carter crashed over her. “Send Abby.”

  “I can’t,” Erin answered. “She’s got the Fraser wedding this weekend.”

  “Send Lauren then.”

  “What’s up, Anna?” Erin paused. When Anna didn’t respond, she said, more gently, “Anna, what’s going on?”