Jacob glanced over his shoulder and nodded before stepping into the hallway. Before the door shut, I saw a girl sitting in the chair in front the desk. She was hunched over, and her shoulders were shaking. When she turned her face to the door I saw it was tear-streaked, mascara blurring into a muddy mask around her blue eyes. It was the flirty blonde from the ferry. Who apparently was also the housekeeper I passed on the path this morning. Then the door shut, blocking out her streaked face.
“Lord Godfrey, I’m glad you’re here, I was just about to call you,” Jacob said. “Please, let’s have a seat.” He waved us toward a pair of chairs on the other side of his door.
We eased down onto the seats, careful not to bump into one another as Jacob looked at us with a heavy sigh.
“I hate to be the one to tell you this, Lord Godfrey, but young Tessa Jordan, the girl in my office, well, I caught her an hour ago with your wallet and what I’m assuming are your watches and cufflinks in her possession.”
My jaw tightened as Eric’s eyes slid quickly over me and back to Jacob.
“How did that happen? That’s why I’m here, to report the theft,” he said.
And conveniently left out the part about how he blamed me. Again.
“Tessa is the daughter of one of our most loyal and valued patrons. When her father found out she’d been shoplifting for kicks, he sent her here to work, to try and keep her out of trouble.” Jacob explained.
“I’m stunned,” Eric said quietly.
“So am I. It’s not like she needs the money, her father is a billionaire. She just does it for the thrill.” Jacob shook his head. “Anyhow, I’m going to have some paperwork for you to fill out and then I can return your things. And we’re having Tessa charged and sent away.” He shook Eric’s hand and stepped back into his office, closing the door firmly behind him. We heard Tessa begin to wail inside.
“Samantha…I…” Eric was looking at me, his face fallen and full of regret.
I didn’t bother to say anything. I stood up, turned around, and walked down the hallway.
“Samantha…wait…” I heard him call to me.
I turned into the lobby and headed toward the desk.
“What can I help you with?” the smiling concierge asked.
“I need to leave, as quickly as possible,” I said, “There’s been…a mistake.”
CHAPTER 10
ERIC
“ Are we finished here yet?”
I was twitching and anxious. I didn’t care about my watches or cufflinks anymore. I just wanted to get to Samantha. I had to try and salvage whatever it was we had together.
Jacob pushed another paper across the desk at me. “Last one, Lord Godfrey.”
I dashed my signature across the bottom and took the small paper evidence bag Jacob handed me. It was small and light. I was amazed that something so inconsequential had damaged the one real thing I’d ever had in my life.
I shoved the packet into my inner jacket pocket and hurried out of Jacob’s office before sprinting across the lobby and bypassing the elevator for the stairs. When I burst out of the stairwell door, I bee lined for Samantha’s suite. I was surprised to find it standing wide open. I stuck my head into the room.
“Hello? Samantha?” I called.
A maid stepped out of the bedroom, a bundle of towels in her arms.
“Can I help you, sir?”
“Where is Miss Tate,” I demanded.
The maid shrugged, “She checked out.” She turned back to the bedroom.
“What do you mean she checked out?” I shoved past the maid into the bedroom and flung open the closet door. Her single bag was gone. “Where did she go?”
“I don’t know, mister. I’m just trying to work here. I was supposed to get off work an hour ago. But you people are always changing your minds about checking in and out. At least this lady left me a tip.” The maid gave me an exasperated look that said she’d had enough of putting up with the wealthy people who stayed at the resort.
“I’m sorry,” I said to her, “but it’s important I find Miss Tate.”
She sighed, “I don’t know, I was just sent to clean up after an early check-out, you’ll have to ask the desk.”
“Thank you…” I paused and looked at her.
“Julia,” she supplied.
“Thank you, Julia.” I pulled out my wallet and peeled a couple of bills from the money clip inside. I handed them to her. “Here, for your trouble.”
“Thanks,” I heard her call as I jogged back down the corridor.
I sprinted back down the stairs and across the tiled lobby to the reception desk at the front. An older couple stood in front me, talking with the desk clerk. I looked around to see if I could find someone else to help me. It appeared the lady behind the desk was the only person on duty. I tapped my foot impatiently. The older woman flipped through a brochure, “Now, does the spa use only all-natural oils in their massage? I can only use naturally sourced oils, nothing with a petroleum base. You don’t know? Can you be a doll and call up and ask them? I’ll wait.”
I couldn’t stand it anymore.
“Sorry, excuse me,” I put on my poshest voice and pushed past the couple, ignoring the woman’s exclamation of outrage. I read the clerk’s nametag, “Mia, I’m desperate for your help.” I gave her my dazzler smile. “I need to locate Miss Tate, room 310? It’s an emergency and most imperative that I contact her.”
“Oh, Lord Godfrey, certainly sir, give me a moment.” She smiled apologetically at the older couple and tapped at her computer.
“Seems Miss Tate made a request to check out early, which she just did. She’s on her way to the ferry as we speak, the Jeep left for the dock five minutes ago. I’m sorry, sir.”
“Thanks, Mia.” I dashed toward the large lobby doors and skidded to a halt under the portico. A concerned looking porter rushed over.
“Can I help with something, sir?”
“No. Wait, yes. I need to get to the dock, now.” I was panting.
“I’m sorry, sir the Jeep’s already left.”
“Can you radio for them to come back?” I gestured to the portable radio on the porter’s stand behind him.
“I’m afraid not sir, the driver doesn’t have a radio with him.”
I made a groan of frustration and pulled at my hair. “I need to get to the ferry!”
A loud humming noise caught my attention, and I glanced behind me to see one of the grounds staff pulling onto the far side of the portico in a golf cart. He jumped down and walked into the lobby, leaving the cart at the curb. Without a second thought, I ran across the road, jumped into the golf cart and threw it into drive. Then I was zipping down the road, shells crunching under the tires as I urged the golf cart to go faster. I pressed the pedal the floor and prayed the ferry was late coming in from Bridgetown.
I pushed the cart as fast as it would go, rakes and shovels clattering loudly in the bins behind the driver seat. I followed the trail through the jungle and finally spotted the cove as I came over a rise. The ferry, long and sleek, was moored at the end of the dock. I could see deckhands loading the last of the luggage from the dock and pulling loose the lines anchoring the boat to the dock.
By the time I reached the end of the pier, the ferry was starting to back away. I jumped out of the golf cart and barreled down the dock, the wooden planks clattering under my feet.
“Samantha, Samantha!” I screamed, only to have my voice drowned out by the loud baritone blast of the ship’s horn.
The bow of the ship had just glided past the edge of the dock when I skidded to a halt at the end. Then I saw Samantha’s wavy hair appear over the edge of the rail. I saw my name form on her lips and watched as her hand brushed at the corner of her eye.
I dove into the water.
I didn’t have any thought except to reach Samantha as the green-blue waters closed over my head. I sputtered to the surface and saw the ship pulling even further away. A small group of people had gathered at the ra
il, pointing and shouting at me. Samantha stood with her hands wrapped tightly around the rail, watching.
I took off my shoes, not caring that a thousand dollars of custom made leather was sinking to the bottom of the Caribbean. Then I started swimming towards the ship.
My arms sliced through the water and I kept my gaze on the ferry. Light chops of water from the boat’s wake smacked at me, but I powered through them, Samantha my destination.
The people at the rail were cheering me on, urging me to swim faster. Finally, my fingers touched the sleek fiberglass hull.
A life preserver was dropped over the side and I wound my hands through the rope as it was hauled up. Hands grasped at me and pulled me over the railing, where I doubled over and dragged long, cleansing breaths into my lungs. And then I stood up.
Samantha was watching me.
I took a step towards her. She cocked her head to the side, her eyes wary.
“Samantha…” I could hear the pleading fear in my voice. I was afraid to lose her. “Please…”
“Are you insane, Eric?” Her eyes were wide and her voice disbelieving.
“Only for you.”
Our small audience aww’ed.
Her lip twitched. “That’s so corny.”
“I don’t care. It’s true.”
“Eric,” she sighed, “I…like you. God, more than I want to admit, actually. But we’re not right for each other. As evidenced by the fact that you keep accusing me of stealing from you.”
I thought the small crowd hissed at me.
I took another step toward her and held my hands out, palms up. “I’m an utter moron. I don’t know how to reiterate that enough. You’re the…the…most amazing person I’ve met, ever, anywhere, in my entire life. And I’ve been around the world. You blow the other seven billion some odd people out of the water.”
“Eric…” my name trailed off her lips, sad and disappointed. I was afraid I was losing her.
I stepped forward again and reached out, catching the tips of her fingers. I tugged at them, and she moved forward. When I slipped my arms around her shoulders, she let me.
I nuzzled into her wind-scented hair. “Just listen. I’m sorry. I’d rip out my heart and give it to you if I could. Since I can’t, I’ll give you anything else you want. Cars? A house? Done. Money? It’s yours. Trips, jewels, clothes, anything. Just, please, please, for the sake of all that’s holy, please forgive me, Samantha. Please, give me another chance. One that I promise I won’t waste. Please?” My voice broke and my throat tightened around the last word.
“You can’t buy me, Eric,” she said quietly.
I pulled back and stared down into her liquid amber eyes. “I’m not trying to. Money is all I have to give.”
“I don’t want your money.”
My heart broke then, a billion sharp, shattering pieces shooting through my chest. The pain ripped through my body and dug deep into my soul. She didn’t want me.
“I just want you, Eric. Just you. None of the Lord stuff, none of the money, none of the bullshit.”
“Do you mean that?”
“I do. You’re so much more than your money.” Her voice was warmer than the ocean breeze and sweeter than the scent of island flowers.
“Samantha, I love you.” I breathed and pressed my lips to hers. Her mouth yielded beneath mine, opening to let me ease my tongue over hers, to taste her deep and slow. I threaded my fingers through the waves of her hair and pulled her into me.
She broke our kiss and pulled back. “You’re soaking wet.”
“I know,” I murmured, moving over her lips again.
“Now so am I.”
I glanced down at her. Her white sundress was molded across her, plastered by the ocean water from my suit. Her gorgeous nipples pressed against the now sheer material in peachy peaks. I fought against the urge to nip at them with my teeth.
“I can’t believe you jumped off the dock. You really are insane,” she said wonderingly.
“You make me that way. I couldn’t let you go without trying.”
“How are we going to make this work?”
“Looks like I’ll be searching for a flat in Chicago. Unless you’d like to study in the UK. I’m an Oxford alum. The entire family is, actually.”
“Wait, wait,” she pushed away from me, “I don’t want you to get me into university or buy me a house or anything like that.”
“Samantha, please let me help you. I have so much. I’m not trying to buy your affection or place you under any obligations towards me. I just want to make your life easier. It’s the least I can do for the way I’ve treated you. Here.” I pulled the packet from Jacob out of my sodden jacket pocket and emptied the watches and cufflinks onto my hand. I held them out to Samantha. “You can have these.”
“I don’t want them. Sell them and give the money towards feeding foster children.”
“You are remarkable. Can I at least help with your tuition? I can do that much, can’t I? Will that help?”
She chewed on her lip and I saw her considering my offer. “Okay,” she finally said, “but just with my tuition. If that’s covered I can manage my rent on my own.”
“Consider it done,” I grinned at her, happy to be able to help her and knowing I’d help her even more as time went by.
We moved to the rail and I put my arms around and pulled her close, resting my chin on the top of her head as she snuggled into my chest.
The waves churned around the back of the boat, lacy foam and cerulean waters. Diamond Cove moved further and further away from us, its sparkling white sand beaches and jungle tip ridges receding as the ferry carried us away to our future. Together.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Roxy Sinclaire writes steamy, suspenseful romantic stories as the main genre, and this includes a variety of different topics. Some of these include dark romances, action packed romances, mafia romances, and many more. She currently works in customer relations in New York City, but is trying to fulfill her passion in writing and eventually have her dream job become a reality.
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Zara Zenia is the pen name of Roxy Sinclaire, and writes mainly science fiction romance!
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Sign up for Roxy’s mailing list and find out about her latest releases, giveaways, and more. Plus, get a FREE book! Click here!
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Twitter: http://twitter.com/roxysinclaire
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RoxySinclaireAuthor/
Website: http://roxysinclaire.com/
Email: [email protected]
ALSO BY ROXY SINCLAIRE
Pass To Win Series:
Touchdown: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 1)
Line of Scrimmage: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Book 2)
Between The Tackles: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 3)
Fourth and Goal: A Bad Boy Sports Romance (Book 4)
Game Winning Catch: A Secret Baby Sports Romance (Book 5)
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Omerta Series:
Dirty Indiscretions: A Dark Mafia Romance (Book 1)
Her Protection: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Book 2)
Deadly Ink: A Dark Mafia Romance (Book 3)
His Revenge: A Mafia Revenge Romance (Book 4)
His Betrayal: A Bad Boy Mafia Romance (Book 5)
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Secret Agent Romance Series:
Lethal Seduction: A CIA Romantic Suspense (Book 1)
Deadly Seduction: A Secret Agent Romance (Book 2)
Toxic Seduction (Book 3)
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Standalone Novels:
Dirty Money: A Dark Mafia Romance
Object Me: A Bad Boy Lawyer Romance
Dirty Fighter: A Bad Boy MMA Romance
Fast and Loaded: A Bad Boy Sports Romance
Tempting Me: A Bad Boy Romance
The Devil’s Dream: A Dark Romance
Trapped In His World: A Dark Romance
Deceived By The Hitman: A Bad Boy Hitman Romance
WORTH THE RISK
A SOLACE OF SECRETS NOVELLA
EMKAY CONNOR
Falling in love could jeopardize her sanity, her sanctuary and her secrets.
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Dara Lockwood doesn’t do commitment. She used to be the queen of commitment, but that was before she was implicated in a sex scandal involving her fiancé, an ambitious senator with presidential aspirations. After losing any chance of tenure and a faculty position at one of Washington DC’s most prestigious universities, and exhausted by the constant glare of the media spotlight, Dara traded notoriety for anonymity.
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Five years living on a tiny Caribbean island managing the Soggy Dollar tiki bar has dulled Dara’s anger but not her distrust of men. The occasional one night stand—“first names only”— with a tourist just passing through is working just fine until the arrival of Jack Wyatt.
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Tall, dark and seriously sexy, the man is a lethal combination of raw masculinity and shadowy vulnerability. When one night of explosive passion turns into one week, Dara is tempted to reveal all. Something about Jack makes her want to trust him, not only with the truth, but with her heart. Will it be worth the risk when Dara discovers she isn’t the only one with secrets?
CHAPTER 1
“ Good morning, Cedella.”
Dara Lockwood greeted a wizened woman who was shaking out handfuls of feed to a dozen or so chickens clustered around her ankles. Their feathers shone glossy—ebony and scarlet. Something about a Caribbean sunrise made colors richer and more vibrant than anything she’d ever seen back in Virginia. Even the faded pastels of the old woman’s home glowed rose-pink and banana-yellow against the vivid green wall of foliage a few yards beyond the bare yard.
Tropical Tryst: 25 All New and Exclusive Sexy Reads Page 119