Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads

by Nicole Morgan

  “A walk then. Just a harmless stroll down the beach? What have you got to lose?”

  A shadow passed across her face and I wondered what I’d said. It was gone as quickly as it came and she opened the door with defeated sigh. “Come in, I’ve got to change.”

  I stepped in and pushed the door closed behind me. Her room was a suite, quite a bit smaller than my villa but still luxurious. She moved into the bedroom and pushed the door halfway closed.

  I shoved my hands into my pockets as I wandered around the living area, looking at the paintings on the wall.

  “So, are you in this building?” she asked from the bedroom.

  “Er, no. I’m on the other side.” I moved toward the bedroom, stopping just outside the door.

  “Like, the north wing?” I heard the soft shift and slide of fabric. I couldn’t help myself as I glanced toward the cracked door. Her back was long and flawless, just as bronzed as her legs and fuck me, she was wearing a pair of white, cotton panties. It was so innocent and sexy. Just like the two dimples on her lower back. I felt my cock shift. She slipped a coral-colored sundress over her head and I moved silently back across the room.

  “No, I’m in a beachside villa,” I said quickly.

  “Oh, a villa. Well, la di da,” she appeared around the corner of the door, her cheap shoes in her hand. She slipped them on and quickly caught her hair up, wrapping it around her hand in that twisty way that girls did, and slipped a band over it.

  I didn’t think she knew how breathtaking she was. In her mass-market clothes and wild hair, she would outshine every single debutante and titled girl I had ever been introduced to. Including the perfectly coiffed and arrayed Portia.

  I offered my elbow. “Shall we, Miss Tate?”

  She giggled as she tucked her hand in the curve of my arm. “Let’s shall, Lord Godfrey.”

  “Eric,” I reminded her.

  “Eric,” she replied with a grin.

  CHAPTER 5

  SAMANTHA

  I could not believe he just showed up at my door. Lord Godfrey. Eric. I wanted to be angry at him, I wanted to hate him. I couldn’t. He was charming as all hell and the accent didn’t hurt. I didn’t know what he really wanted from me but I felt safe with him. It wouldn’t hurt to take a walk, have a chat, and spend some time studying his grey eyes and nicely muscled arms. One of which my hand was now gripping. It was firm and warm. Thoughts of other firm and warm body parts danced quickly through my mind.

  I cleared my throat. “So, a walk on the beach you said?”

  Eric smiled at me and I saw that this time his smile is real. “Absolutely. This is a beautiful little island and you’ve hardly seen any of it. I’d love to show you around.”

  We headed down the spiral stairs and crossed the fragrant garden before heading around the pool. I let Eric lead me down another path I hadn’t seen before. It was narrow and lined with lush green bushes and trees with large, waxy leaves. I had to drop his arm and walk behind him as the path narrowed even more. The sound of the waves was clearer and then suddenly we were off the path and standing at the edge of the beach.

  And it was the most beautiful beach.

  It was a crescent shaped cove with sand that glimmered like it was made of diamonds. Everywhere the sunlight touched threw showers of glittering sparks. The ocean was every color of blue and green I’d ever seen, all woven into one flowing, glimmering blanket of water that lapped softly against the shore. The palms were the deepest and lushest of greens and the flowers the brightest of yellows and pinks. The air was heaven-scented, sweet and soft as an angel’s touch.

  “Eric,” I breathed “this is…gorgeous isn’t even the right word.”

  “I know.” He smiled at me, dazzling and true. “Come on.” He tugged on my arm and lead me down the sand. I slipped off my shoes and let my toes sink into the warm sand. It was as soft as feathers against my skin.

  “This way.” Eric wove his fingers through mine and pulled me down the beach. I saw a double hammock strung between two palm trees at the far end. We headed toward it.

  “Have a seat,” Eric said to me.

  “Are we done with our walk already?” I teased.

  “I don’t see any reason to continue. We’re on the most beautiful, and private, beach in the world. Might as well enjoy it.”

  I shrugged and dropped into the hammock. It dipped and swayed beneath me as I wiggled into place. When Eric grabbed the ropes and pulled the hammock, it swung wildly and I squealed before dissolving into giggles.

  “Right then, shove over,” he said.

  “No way. You sit over there.” I pointed a few feet away at an exposed tree root.

  “Absolutely not,” he responded and flipped into the hammock with me.

  We shifted and laughed as the hammock careened and rocked before finally settling into a gentle swaying rhythm. Eric’s leg was pressed against mine. My skin tingled where it met his. He didn’t seem to be affected though. He crossed his arms beneath his head and took a deep breath of the heady ocean air.

  “Lovely, yes?” he asked.

  “Uh…” Was he talking about me?

  “The beach,” he finally said, “isn’t it lovely.”

  “Oh! Yes, it is. Gorgeous. It really is. I’ve never seen anywhere as beautiful.”

  “So, what about in Chicago? Nothing lovely there?” His eyes were studying the light dappling through the palm fronds above us.

  “Chicago has its charms, some great architecture, friendly mid-western people, and fabulous pizza if I do say so myself. But no, nothing that compares to this.”

  “Ah yes, that deep dish pizza. It is delicious.”

  “Oh, you’ve had it?” was a little surprised.

  “Of course. A friend had some flown in for a little soiree once.”

  “Flown. In. That must have been an insane delivery charge,” I joked weakly. Because of course. Everyone had pizza flown four thousand for a little get-together.

  Eric sighed deeply. “I’m well aware of how that sounds but it’s not like a private plane was chartered just to deliver pizza to a bunch of privileged tossers.”

  “I didn’t say anything.” But I did think it.

  “You didn’t have to. I could hear it in your voice. I know I don’t live in the “real world” but this world is real to me. I can’t help the circumstances I was born into any more than you. You took incredible exception when you thought I was judging you by your background. Why is it any different just because I happen to be wealthy?”

  Ouch. Eric had a point. I’d struggled to overcome the stigma attached to being a poor foster kid and here I was pointing fingers at him for something that was beyond his control.

  “But you did. Judge me by background,” I told him.

  “Yes. I did. And I’m sorry.” His voice was low and the words were simple but they touched me nonetheless.

  I hadn’t expected him to admit it.

  He put his foot down and pushed to make the hammock sway again. We rocked gently for a few moments, the sun warming our faces.

  “So, you’re a university student,” he said.

  “Mmhmm,” I mumbled.

  “And you work. A lot.”

  “Mmhmm,” I mumbled again.

  “What do you do for fun, then? After the school and the work?”

  “I don’t usually have time for much else,” I said.

  “Surely you must do something for recreation.”

  “Recreation. That’s very funny,” I laughed.

  “Are you laughing at me?” It was so hard to tell when he was joking or not.

  “I am.”

  “Well, all right then. Glad I can amuse.” I heard the smile in his voice.

  I watched as a small bird flitted through the trees.

  “What do you do with your time?” I finally asked him.

  “Honestly?”

  “Of course, honestly.”

  “Not much, really.” His voice sounded pained like he was making a confe
ssion he was ashamed of.

  “Come on. You do something.” I elbowed him gently.

  “Well, I was engaged. That’s off now. And sometimes I go into the office of my family’s business for some briefings by our board. But I’m not needed there, really. The business side of my family’s holdings is well-oiled and cranks along. I travel. Quite a bit. I guess I do more traveling than anything else.” He didn’t sound very proud of that admission.

  “A professional jet-setter,” I said.

  “If you must use that term, I suppose that’s what I am.” He sounded disgruntled. “But what about you, what are your plans?”

  “Are you changing the subject?”

  “Maybe,” he said out of the side of his mouth. “Are you going to answer?”

  “Well, I’m getting a bachelor’s degree in business and I planned on pursuing my MBA as well. After that, I want to work in the non-profit sector, securing funds for programs that help disadvantaged children. But, I might have to put those plans on the backburner. Tuition and living expenses aren’t cheap.”

  When he didn’t reply, I started to worry he found my answer to be classless. Or trite.

  “Samantha, why did you return my wallet if you needed the money so badly?” he finally asked me.

  “Why did you think I’d steal your money just because I was poor?” I countered.

  “That’s not…” he sputtered and sat up.

  “That’s not what? What you thought? Because you admitted it earlier.” I pushed up out of the hammock.

  “I just meant…people who have less…tend to be…” he was struggling not to offend me, I could tell. But I didn’t care.

  “Tend to be hardworking? Industrious? Economical? I hope to God that’s what you were planning on saying,” I fumed at him.

  “No, no. Just maybe…less…respectable?” He gave me a sheepish grin.

  I looked up at the sky and pulled in a deep breath between my tight lips. “Do you realize that studies prove the more money a person has, the less ethical they become?

  “Not bloody likely,” he scoffed.

  “Nope. It’s true. More wealth equals less compassion. The wealthy are more likely to lie, cheat, and steal than people with fewer means. And the rich are more likely to see greed as a good thing. More them, less for the “less deserving”. They feel their socioeconomic class gives them a privilege that sets them above the average person.”

  “Is that true?” he asked weakly.

  “You’re an educated man. I’m sure you attended the finest schools’ money could buy. Examine the studies for yourself.” I turned and started to stalk off across the sand.

  “Samantha, wait.” Eric’s hand landed on my arm and he urged me to face him.

  “What is it? I have robberies to plan.” I snatched my arm from his grip.

  “You are the fiercest person I’ve ever met.” His eyes shone down at me as his cheeks dimpled into a grin. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone as sharp or witty as you. You hold your own, don’t you?”

  “I’ve always had to,” I responded.

  He stepped closer to me and I remembered the feel of his lips on mine. It had been the briefest of kisses, but the push of his mouth against mine was burned into my mind.

  “You don’t have to be on guard with me,” he said.

  “I think I do.”

  His fingers drifted up and skimmed across my cheek as he tucked a windblown strand of hair back behind my ear.

  “I do believe you’re correct,” he said.

  “I have to be on guard with you?” The admission startled me.

  “No,” he chuckled, “but perhaps you should maintain an…alert state. I meant about the wealthy. The expectation that their money confers privileges they consider exclusively theirs. They do. We do. I can’t count myself out of the equation. It’s something we should strive to change, I know. But don’t count us all out. We’re not all that bad.”

  “I’ll give that some thought,” I said.

  “There’s something else I’d like you to give some thought.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Have dinner with me.”

  His request made me take a step a back and lose my voice. “Like, a date?” I finally managed to squeak out.

  “Exactly like a date,” he smiled.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea,” I responded.

  “Do you have a boyfriend?”

  “No,” I laughed, “I don’t have time for a boyfriend.”

  “Are you fasting for some spiritual reason I’m unaware of?”

  “No. You’re a funny guy.”

  “You have to eat dinner, then. Might as well be with me,” he said.

  I knew I should have said no. But he was charming and very good looking and I hadn’t been on a date in…well, it was so long ago I couldn’t even remember. Yes, he’d accused me of stealing, but I was pretty sure we’d moved past that now. He seemed much more open-minded than I anticipated. And his body was warm and close to mine and I could feel small electric charges between us. Maybe it was the hot air or the cool breeze or the hypnotic lap of the waves on the sand but I wanted to spend more time with him. Be even closer to him. I wanted him to kiss me again. For real this time and not because he was trying to shut me up.

  “Okay,” I said simply.

  “Okay?” he grinned.

  “Yes, I’ll have dinner with you,” I laughed. “Sheesh, get turned down a lot?”

  “No, I’m just hungry. Come on, I need to attend to a few things.” He grabbed my hand again, lacing his fingers between mine.

  “Okay. I’d like to stop by and see Jacob.”

  “I promise, you don’t need security to have dinner with me.” I laughed as he tugged me up the beach towards the path. If the fluttering in my stomach was any indication, he might be the one who needed protecting from me.

  CHAPTER 6

  ERIC

  I was giddy at the thought of having a date with Samantha but I couldn’t figure out why. Yes, she was beautiful, but my world was full of beautiful women. Any of whom would be happy to date me if I so much as snapped my fingers. Maybe that’s what it was; I didn’t think Samantha would respond to me at all if I snapped my fingers at her. She was brash and outspoken and not about to take my shit. Every other woman I’d ever known had been happy to tell me what I wanted to hear or bend over backward, or into any other position, if I wanted them to. It was all about money and influence with those women. Samantha didn’t care about any of that. It was refreshing.

  I stood in front of the mirror, fresh from my shower, with a towel draped around my hips. I finger combed my hair as I considered my reflection. Samantha hadn’t said anything but I thought she found me attractive. She hadn’t objected when I held her hand, or moved away when I shared the hammock with her. I still didn’t want to intimidate her or make her uncomfortable with me. Instead of the tailored suit I normally would have worn to dinner, I chose a pair of linen pants and a plain t-shirt. I slipped on my clothes, left my hair to fall free and headed down to check out the dinner set-up.

  I’d had the staff set up a table in a small clearing circled with trees just beyond the veranda of my villa. The table was covered with a pristine white tablecloth and set with bone china and sparkling crystal. Twinkling lights were strung through the trees and a couple of glowing torches spread a warm light over the clearing. As the sun sank lower, the lights and flickering flames turned the clearing into a magical fairyland. I thought Samantha would love it.

  I left the staff with a few more instructions and headed over to her room. It only took a few minutes to walk across the grounds to her building but I couldn’t get there fast enough. I bounded up the spiral stairs and knocked on her door, my heart thudding with anticipation.

  When she opened the door, I was left speechless.

  While I’d chosen to dress down, she’d obviously chosen to dress up. She was in a diaphanous pale apricot gown that clung softly to her curves. She
spun on one foot so I could see the back was completely open, dipping so low I could see the dimples at the small of her back. The flowing fabric swept around her ankles and a long slit up the side let her bronzed leg play peek-a-boo through the dress. It was all held up with one thin, gold chain fastened around her graceful neck. Her hair was upswept and dotted with small white flowers. A pair of heels with thin nude straps around the ankles finished her outfit. She looked amazing. And expensive.

  “Well?” she asked when I didn’t say anything.

  “You look incredible,” I breathed. “But, where did you get the dress?”

  “Jacob,” she said airily.

  “Jacob had that dress? It’s his color.” I deadpanned.

  “No,” she laughed, “Jacob helped me find it. I bet there’s something you didn’t know about the resort. Designers send clothes here for guests to borrow or purchase. There’s an entire closet the size of a small house. I found this.” She spun again.

  “It suits you,” I managed.

  “Thank you,” she beamed at me. “Are you ready?”

  “What? Yes, ready.” I was staring at the dip of her shoulder and the utterly edible-looking curve of her breast. Shaking myself, I stepped forward and offered her my arm. She tucked her hand into the crook of my elbow, and I led her down the stairs and across the grounds toward my villa.

  When we rounded the corner to the clearing, she stopped and gasped, her hand fluttering up to land on her throat.

  “Eric, my God,” she breathed. Oh, I hoped to hear her say those words again later just like that, while she was naked and pressed against me.

  “It’s beautiful.” Her eyes darted around the clearing, taking in the lights and candles and the flowers strewn around the grass. I took her elbow and guided her toward the table, pulling out her chair and helping her arrange her dress around her legs. I took the other seat and smiled at her as she beamed at me.

  Our places were already set, our plates resting under silver domes. Other covered dishes sat on a small cart near the table. I hadn’t wanted the staff nearby. I wanted Samantha all to myself. I pulled a bottle of champagne from an ice bucket and held it up. “I know you said you don’t drink, but I hoped you’d like to try some champagne. There’s also sparkling water if you’d prefer.” I didn’t want her to think I was trying to get her sloshed.