Excited, Jade closed her laptop and put on makeup. She dressed up, pulling on a pink-laced sheath dress and high-heel shoes.
She’d meet him for dinner and let him know she wasn’t a bipolar romance author—that he meant more to her than just as a research partner—that she wanted him to come back to her—always.
Jade marched to the concierge desk and found Georges. “Did Aiden check in with you and tell you where he went?”
Georges directed her to a local watering hole, a seedy bar on the outskirts of town. “You sure you want to go there? Why don’t we call him and ask him to come back? The restaurant next door is having a barbecue party you can crash.”
“Please call me a cab,” Jade said. “I want to surprise him.”
“Good timing,” Georges said, taking a small bag out of a drawer. “The jewelry store delivered the dog tag you got for Aiden. Might I inquire if your romance is headed for something more permanent?”
Jade opened the box and checked the engraving. “I’ll let you know, but I’m hopeful. We do seem to be the Perfect Match.”
****
Aiden nursed his scotch and tried to pin his eyes on Keith Kirkland’s bestseller. But the words glazed, and he found himself rereading the same paragraphs several times.
True, the book was full of detail—explanations of guns, bullets, ammunition and the types of conditions each weapon excelled in. The plot moved fast, and every bit of intrigue, whether encrypted messages, poisoned directives, or illegally obtained dossiers were utilized to misdirect the reader and add tension.
However, the people on the page were generic. There was the hero, a hard-drinking, boisterous ex-CIA man—pretty stereotypical. The ingenue, a large breasted blonde on the run from bad guys was saved by the hero and bedded by him all in a single chapter.
Where was the emotion and the feeling?
Aiden turned the page, and the hero was already putting on his tie, on his way to a secret meeting with the underworld.
He hadn’t even lasted a minute.
Aiden huffed and downed the rest of his drink, emboldened by the burn going down his throat. He should go back to the villa and apologize to Jade for dissing her favorite thriller author, Josh Ridley. Obviously, the guy’s characterization was richer, and layering a love interest made the story deeper and more meaningful. Sort of like how he was planning on having his nun fall in love with the murderer.
“Hey, is that my book you’re reading?” A hearty male voice sounded from his side.
Aiden looked up into the smiling face of his hero, Keith Kirkland.
“Just got it today,” Aiden said, sticking out his hand to shake. “Aiden Lin.”
“Keith Kirkland in the flesh,” Keith said, shaking firmly. “How’d you like it so far?”
“You’ve got all the details right. The hostage rescue, the helo, all of the codes.”
“I do extensive research,” Keith said. “Glad it’s paying off. Are you here for my book signing? It’s tomorrow at Little Jim’s Casino.”
“I’ll be there. Buy you a drink?”
“Sure. You look like a military man.” Keith pulled up a barstool.
“Navy SEAL, looking at deploying to the Korean peninsula. I’m also a writer.”
“You don’t say.” Keith signaled the bartender to pour him a drink. “Have you signed up for one of my courses?”
“Haven’t had the time, but I’ve been developing a story idea—a high concept thriller with an unlikely pair of protagonists.”
“I’d like to hear more about it.”
“It’s a little unorthodox, but a nun has to depend on an escaped convict—a man wanted for murder, to help her stay alive long enough to foil a plot on the President’s life.”
“I love it,” Keith said. “How much of it have you written up?”
“I’ve only been working on it the last few days,” Aiden said. “But I do have an outline.”
“Would you like me to critique it for you? Shore up your story structure? Make sure your plot makes sense?”
“You would do that for me?” Aiden knocked back his drink.
“Always glad to help new writers,” Keith said. “Where are you staying?”
“The Secret Heart Villa,” Aiden said.
“You’re not on your honeymoon, are you?” Keith glanced at Aiden’s ring finger. “I wouldn’t want to interrupt anything.”
“I’m drinking alone. Does it look like I’m on my honeymoon?” Aiden tried to be flippant, even though his heart felt as heavy as a lead balloon.
Keith didn’t answer. His eyes focused on something over Aiden’s shoulder, and his mouth opened in an expression of delight, as if he were meeting his fiancée or wife at the bar.
Aiden turned and his heart took flight. Jade approached him, carrying a bouquet of purple and white orchids. Her dress was delicate and feminine—pink-laced flowers over a silky sheath, and she was staring at him as if he were her entire world.
“Jade.” Aiden opened his arms, and she stepped toward him.
He prepared to hold her close, to kiss all her worries away, and to never let her go. He’d been a stupid ass to go out alone after a silly argument about which thriller author was better.
His smile faded when Jade stopped short. Her opened and color flushed her cheeks.
“What are you—” She didn’t finish, because she was swept into the arms of Keith Kirkland.
“Jade,” the famous author said. “You’re looking exquisite, and I’ve missed you so much.”
Aiden felt the gut punch all the way to his spine, and he wasn’t sure if he should hit the rewind button or get out of Dodge.
No one dissed Aiden Lin. Ever.
Anger steamed from his nostrils as he whirled around and swaggered out of the bar as if he didn’t have a care in the world.
It wasn’t that Jade didn’t want romance.
Oh no.
She didn’t want it with him, because she’d been waiting for her hero, Keith Kirkland, to sweep her off her feet.
No wonder she knew so much about the spy thriller genre—so much more than a mere romance author normally would.
Chapter Fifteen
“I’m sorry, but I have to go home,” Aiden told Georges. “I’ll pay Mr. Yates back for the unused portion of the vacation, but I must leave right away.”
“Miss Jade went out to The Blind Buccaneer to meet you. Did she find you?” The concierge blinked, his eyes big behind his oversized glasses.
“I saw her,” Aiden said, “and I want to be gone before she returns.”
“Aren’t we being a little hasty?” Georges asked. He took off his glasses and rubbed them with a corner of his shirttail. “I thought you two were getting along swimmingly. The young lady seemed quite taken with you.”
“It was all an act. A mistake. I’m sorry,” Aiden said. “Call a cab to take me to the airport.”
“Very well.” Georges picked up the telephone receiver. “I think you’re making a big mistake—unless you’re playing hard to get.”
“I’m a Navy SEAL. I don’t play games.” Aiden went back to the suite and yanked his duffel bag from the walk-in closet.
Aiden collected his notebook and picked up the index cards he’d sketched out his story on. Jade’s dresses and jeans were scattered over the floor of the closet, and he had to pick through them to make sure he didn’t leave anything behind.
He couldn’t help inhaling her sweet perfume and the scent of coconut oil combined with the tropical fragrance of her vegan shampoos.
Carefully, he folded up her jeans and hung up her dresses. Touching the cloth that had been draped over her silky skin both turned him on and filled him with a deep sadness.
A man like him, wedded to war, should never fall in love and tie up a woman’s heart—especially one so vibrant and imaginative, one which soared to great heights.
Romance was essentially optimistic with a guaranteed happy ending. His life? Not so much.
Swallowing
hard, he kissed the sundress Jade had worn their first night out and hung it up in the closet.
Taking a swift look around, his eye caught on a paperback halfway under the cot.
Aiden shook his head at how messy Jade was. She was a rich girl and used to having a maid pick up after her.
He bent down and spied three Josh Ridley paperbacks. He didn’t want to admit it to her, but he’d pretty much made a career out of ripping up Josh Ridley online in his writing groups and critique sites.
These three were brand new, and he hadn’t had a chance to dissect their exaggerated writing and tear-jerking melodrama with the obligatory romantic subplot. Maybe there was something he could learn from them, since they were climbing in sales rank and doing better than Josh’s earlier works.
He flipped the first book open, and his eyes widened.
Jade had written over the title page of Josh Ridley’s Face of Death.
“I beheld your face, as the face of love,” said Death. “You mocked me.” J.
The next book, Shadow of Death, had this inscription: “You can run,” said Death. “But I will overshadow you with love.” J.
Aiden shouldn’t snoop, but his fingers bent back the cover on the third book, Heart of Death.
“Walk with me,” said Death. “And our hearts shall live forever.” J.
Were these messages for Keith Kirkland? What would be the point of writing them inside a book by another author?
Aiden couldn’t make any sense of it. Would Keith appreciate these gifts or feel insulted that she liked another author better? Or maybe she was mocking Josh Ridley and it was some private joke between the two of them.
It made sense now. The rules of Perfect Match gave the person with the invitation, in this case Jade, the choice of tropical island.
Keith was a well-known author, and all of his followers knew he’d be on Ile d’Amour to kick off his new series and audition cowriters.
Jade had to be angling for the spot, hence all of her studying about the thriller genre. Being seen with him, a Navy SEAL, would give her military creds, especially with all the lingo she’d learned from him.
The cab driver knocked on the door.
Aiden scooped up the three Josh Ridley paperbacks and shoved them into his duffel. His conscience nagged him, and he knew it was wrong, that he was being silly and jealous, but he wanted those love notes, even if they weren’t addressed to him.
“Coming,” Aiden said to the driver. He zipped up his bag and grabbed his passport, then opened the door.
Jade stood alone with her hand raised in a knocking position.
“I forgot my key,” she said, shrugging with a sheepish smile.
Aiden wiped his hand over his brow and glanced down the hallway. “Where’s Keith Kirkland? Why didn’t you tell me you had a thing going on with him?”
Jade opened her mouth and then shut it. Her gaze landed on Aiden’s duffel bag and the passport in his hand. “Where are you going?”
“Airport. I’m leaving you alone with your idol or is he your lover, too? You know, pitch your thriller idea and be his next cowriter or more.”
“Was that what you were doing? Throwing your ideas at him hoping he’d pick you?”
“At least I wasn’t throwing myself at him.” Aiden’s pulse throbbed through his temple.
“Why, you creep! I knew it.” She stomped her dainty little feet and threw her hands over her head. “I am so stupid. So stupid. Of course, we don’t know each other. Of course, this situation they put us in together is highly unfair to both of us. Of course, we were faking it, and I stupidly thought, no, forget it. I knew it all along.”
“Knew what?” Aiden’s stomach thumped to the floor with the dull thud at the thought she’d been faking everything.
“That romance is dead. There is no romance.” Jade tore the flower from her hair and smashed the orchid bouquet she had brought to the bar. “Leave, Aiden. Go back to your wars and your killing and rescuing.”
“Wait, I can’t leave you like this.” He dropped his duffel bag and grabbed her arm. “This wasn’t how I thought it would end.”
“Let go of me.” She twisted her wrist. “Does it matter how it ends? The fact is, it was always going to end. There’s no getting away from it.”
Aiden swallowed as she removed the Caribbean blue opal necklace from her neck and handed it to him.
“No, keep it. To remember me by,” he said, aware how lame he sounded.
She made a fist, refusing to take it. “Why? This entire experience was a publicity stunt for a dating website. We were strangers, and we’re still strangers. Let’s just leave as acquaintances, okay? And not make more of this than we have to.”
Aiden knew better than to argue with a determined woman. He placed the necklace on the entry table and picked up his duffel bag.
“Goodbye, Miss Reed.” He saluted her. “Enjoy the rest of your stay. Best of luck with your writing.”
“You, too, Aiden.” She shut the door.
Chapter Sixteen
“You really ought to stop dating writers,” Dani said as she set a shot glass on the bar counter for Jade. “What exactly happened out there?”
Jade was back in San Francisco, sitting at her favorite dive bar with her bestie. The clientele was mostly older firefighters and policemen who protected the young ladies from any slick-talking predators, so Jade felt safe knocking back a few shots while commiserating with her friend.
“He walked out, and I had to spend the rest of the time pretending to be friends with Keith.”
“Why?” Dani’s jaw dropped clear to the countertop. “Don’t you hate him?”
“I do, but my publicist thinks it’s a good angle. Two writers find themselves marooned by their dates on a tropical island.”
“Wait, Keith was ditched by a date?”
Jade knocked back another vodka shot and puckered her lips. “Who knows? That was the story our publicists concocted.”
“Do they know you two used to be engaged?”
“Nope. We’ve kept that part to ourselves. Neither of us were published at the time.”
“Right.” Dani played with her cell phone and brought up pictures Keith posted on his social media. “Looks like he still has a thing for you. Too bad he’s a hack and a thief.”
“I’m sure he’s going to steal Aiden’s story.” Jade felt a wave of despair press down over her shoulders. “He was at the bar pitching his story to Keith when I walked in.”
“You should warn Aiden and give him another chance,” Dani continued. “Oh, look at the pictures Perfect Match posted. You two looked so cute.”
Her bestie shoved her phone in front of her face, and Jade averted her gaze. She couldn’t stand to be reminded of how happy she was or look at the silly grin she wore on her hopeless face.
How could she, of all people, have let down her guard? She, who knew only too well how to fake a romance, had ended up trapped like a panicked butterfly in a tarantula’s sticky web.
Dani was right about one thing. Aiden didn’t deserve to be cheated. But how the heck could she do anything about it? She didn’t even have the notebooks that she and Aiden used to sketch out the story.
“I gotta go.” Jade polished off her last shot, feeling tipsy and wobbly. “I have a deadline.”
“You haven’t heard from Aiden at all?” Dani asked. She pointed at the pale blue opal pendant hanging around Jade’s neck. “Beautiful necklace. Bet it brings back memories.”
“Of sand and water in my throat, salt in my eyes, and sunburn,” Jade said bitterly while her imaginative mind conjured up images of Aiden holding her in his arms and kissing every scratch and bruise she’d received from that hostile island.
“Guess he’s not thinking about you, is he?” Dani also had a bad habit of provoking her. “Got off scot-free with a Caribbean vacation. Nothing gained and nothing lost.”
“He took the Josh Ridley books.” The words slurred from Jade’s lips.
“Are you
trying to convert him to a fan?”
Jade moaned and shook her head. “For a brief fifteen or twenty minutes, I experienced temporary insanity. I walked on clouds. My head was light and fluffy. Everything seemed possible.”
“You’re such a drama queen.” Dani rolled her eyes.
“Wait.” Jade fumbled with her phone. “I have to write this down.”
Dani grabbed it. “Stop writing it down and tell me how you felt.”
“It was like Romance with a capital ‘R,’ dressed in a bright-red flowing caftan, with her hair wrapped in a towel and a chocolate cherry in her mouth, opened her big, warm, pillow-like arms and welcomed me into the Sisterhood with a capital ‘S.’”
“Uh, that’s not exactly the image I had in mind,” Dani quipped. “What’s so great about the Romance Sisterhood?”
“Of women who’ve been truly touched, who’ve imbibed love stories, inhaled the drama and the angst, soaring to great heights of passion and hope, only to be dragged underwater over the sharp reefs of despair. Oh, to be Romeo and Juliet, Elizabeth Bennett and Darcy, Peeta and Katniss, Mac and Jericho Z. Barrons.”
“You’re losing me, Jade.” Dani tapped her shoulder. “Are you saying you fell in love with Aiden?”
Tears washed down Jade’s face, as the scent of frangipani and coconut oil teased her along with faint trails of Aiden’s sporty cologne.
****
Aiden carried Josh Ridley’s Death Trilogy everywhere he went. He read while on the airplane going home, then re-read again on the transport plane to his next tour. He pulled out the books while wolfing down his meals and peeked at the words scribbled across the title pages in the few minutes before sleep overtook him every night.
And then he wrote, in his notebook, recording his voice on his phone, and posting chapters to the critique website he belonged to whenever he had a few minutes at the comm tent.
Season every paragraph with emotion, Jade had told him.
Don’t be afraid to go over the top. Emotion is the gasoline that sets feelings on fire.
Emotion is the reason your characters do the things they do.
Jade (Perfect Match Book 4) Page 8