Any Way You Want It

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Any Way You Want It Page 2

by Maureen Smith


  After a long, supercharged moment, Zandra averted her gaze and gruffly commanded, “I’m serious, Remy. Put me down this instant.”

  His dark eyes glinted with mischief. “If you insist.”

  And without further ado, he tossed her unceremoniously into the water.

  * * *

  Remy Brand had a secret.

  Not the kind of secret he’d been sworn to keep in his former life—secrets involving classified intelligence and covert operations in dark, treacherous jungles. Secrets that were matters of national security.

  No, this secret was far more personal.

  Far more dangerous.

  Because while the revelation of this secret might not get him hauled before a military tribunal or put him at the mercy of a ruthless dictator, it could definitely cause some serious damage if it were revealed too soon.

  Damage to his longtime friendship with Zandra.

  Damage to his ego.

  Damage to his heart.

  So what was the deep, dark secret he’d been guarding with his life for the past two years?

  He was in love with Zandra.

  Madly, deeply, hopelessly in love with the woman.

  And it was killing him. Killing him.

  It was crazy.

  He’d survived the most brutal training to gain passage into the elite brotherhood of Navy SEALs. He’d engaged in the most dangerous combat missions in the most dangerous places in the world. He’d experienced the exhilaration and horror of taking lives.

  He’d seen the bowels of hell and lived to have nightmares about it.

  But nothing—absolutely nothing—could have prepared him for the sweet agony of losing his heart to a woman.

  As he watched, Zandra surfaced from the cold water gasping and sputtering indignantly. “I can’t believe you just did that!”

  Remy laughed. “You told me to put you down.”

  “You know damn well what I meant,” she shrieked, swiping water from her eyes so she could glare at him. “I swear, Remy, you drive me crazy sometimes!”

  I know the feeling, he thought, his mouth running dry at the sight of her nipples outlined sharply against the wet fabric of her cover-up. When she arched her neck back to smooth water from her black hair, blood rushed straight to his groin and made his dick throb.

  “I don’t know why you have such a hard time accepting no for an answer,” she ranted. “It’s so damn annoying.”

  Remy grinned unabashedly. “I got you in the water—mission accomplished.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Whatever.”

  As she spun away and began wading toward the shore, Remy reached out and caught her around the waist.

  “Hey!” she protested as he playfully dragged her backward. Squirming out of his grasp, she turned and shoved ineffectually at his chest with both hands. “Will you stop trying to manhandle me!”

  Remy smiled. God, she’s beautiful when she’s all riled up. Hell, she’s beautiful, period.

  And that was an understatement. Zandra Kennedy—with her sultry dark eyes, high cheekbones, erotically plump lips and luscious body—was a walking wet dream. With a seductive sway of her hips or the flash of a sexy smile, she could have any man she wanted.

  Remy was determined to prove he was the only one she’d ever need.

  “Do you know what this reminds me of?” he asked her.

  Zandra just crossed her arms and glowered at him, drops of water clinging to her long lashes like diamonds scattered over black velvet.

  “It reminds me of the first summer we went to Lake Carroll,” he said quietly. “Do you remember?”

  He watched as her expression softened. “Of course I remember,” she murmured. “You taught me how to swim during that trip.”

  Remy smiled reminiscently. “You were so scared to get in the water.”

  “And you weren’t very sympathetic,” she reminded him. “You called me names and taunted me mercilessly.”

  Remy chuckled. “It was reverse psychology. I knew if I made you mad enough, you’d want to prove me wrong by showing that you could learn how to swim.”

  “And you were right,” Zandra grudgingly conceded.

  “What?” Remy exclaimed, cupping a hand to his ear with an expression of exaggerated shock. “Did I just hear you say that I was right about something?”

  She laughed. “Yeah, and that was over twenty years ago!”

  Remy guffawed. “Are you suggesting that was the last time I was right about something?”

  Her eyes glimmered. “I’m not suggesting it. I’m stating it as fact.”

  Without realizing it, they had drifted closer together, nudged by the gentle waves lapping at their bodies.

  Beads of water shimmered on Zandra’s skin, and her hair lay in thick, silken strands upon her shoulders. Unable to resist, Remy reached out and twined a wet lock around his finger, watching as Zandra’s lips parted on a soft intake of breath.

  As desire coiled in his groin, he murmured, “I’m pretty sure I’ve been right about other things over the years.”

  She bit her lush lower lip, making it glisten. “I don’t think so.”

  “No?” Remy stared at her mouth, wanting to kiss her so badly he shook with it. “What about the time I told you to dump that accountant because he seemed shady as hell? Did he, or did he not, get busted for tax evasion and money laundering four months later?”

  Zandra heaved a breath. “Fine. You were right that time. But only because you ran a background check on him without my knowledge or consent,” she added, uncrossing her arms to jab a finger into his chest. “And I’m still convinced you were the one who reported him to the feds.”

  Remy chuckled. “I’ll never tell,” he drawled, his gaze dipping to her voluptuous breasts. Her nipples were still hard, thrusting brazenly against the thin cover-up. It was all he could do not to lower his head and suck one into his mouth like a ripe cherry.

  Seeing the naked hunger in his eyes, Zandra shivered, goose bumps rising on her skin. Her nipples tightened even more.

  Licking his lips, Remy lifted his gaze slowly to hers.

  They stared at each other, the air between them seething with the kind of raw heat that led to hard, grinding, primal sex.

  Pulse pounding, Remy took a step toward her. “Zandra—”

  Something like panic flared in her eyes before she blurted, “Let’s race.”

  He stopped, brows furrowing. “Race?”

  “Yeah. You know, like we used to when we were kids.” She pointed to a distant white buoy bobbing in the water. “That’ll be our finish line.”

  Remy chuckled softly. “I don’t think racing is a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  Because I don’t want to swim anymore. I want to carry you back to your hotel room, strip you naked, lick every inch of your beautiful body and bury myself deep inside your wet heat until you scream and beg for mercy.

  Aloud he drawled, “As I recall, you used to throw temper tantrums and sulk for hours after I beat you at anything.”

  Zandra sniffed. “That was then. I’m thirty-two years old now. I think I can handle losing a friendly little race—especially to a former SEAL. So are you game or not, sailor?”

  “Sure.” A lazy smile curved Remy’s mouth. “I’ll even give you a head start.”

  “Oh, please. I’m not a helpless little girl. I don’t need any charity from you.”

  Remy eyed her knowingly. “Then why are you— What the hell?” he called as she took off suddenly with a bewitching peal of laughter.

  He grinned as he watched her swim away, her arms and legs gliding through the water with the grace of a mermaid.

  He knew she’d only suggested the race as a diversion tactic. She’d felt the powerful attraction between them and it terrified her. So she’d invented an excuse to flee, just as she’d been doing for the past several months.

  But if Zandra thought she could keep running from him, she underestimated the depth of his feelings for her.r />
  Underestimated his determination to have her.

  Underestimated him, period.

  He patiently waited until she’d put enough distance between them, and then he started after her.

  Ready or not, here I come.

  Chapter Two

  Dinner that evening was held beneath a canopy erected on a private area of the beach. Candles flickered and glowed on the linen-covered table, which was long enough to accommodate the festive gathering of twenty-one. Fragrant platters of grilled fish, lobster, conch, curried chicken and plantain were passed around for sharing as a steel drum band serenaded the diners with calypso music.

  Zandra swayed her shoulders to the melodic island beats as she enjoyed her meal and tried her damnedest to ignore Remy, who sat across the table from her. But no matter how hard she willed herself not to look his way, she found her eyes straying to him, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his presence.

  He looked incredible in a black polo shirt and white linen trousers. She couldn’t help staring at the hard angles of his face, the breadth of his wide shoulders and the strength of his powerfully muscled arms. His potent masculinity was an assault on her senses, leaving her breathless and aching in places she’d nearly forgotten existed.

  Every time she glanced across the table, she found him already watching her, his midnight eyes glittering with a fierce, possessive hunger that made her feel branded. Claimed.

  It should have angered her. She didn’t belong to him, or any other man. But trapped in the smoldering beam of his gaze, with her heart thumping and her womb clenching, she felt no anger. Only lust. The kind of lust that could tempt her into doing something utterly stupid, reckless and dangerous.

  Like having sex with Remy.

  “I need to move that candle out of the way,” murmured an amused voice beside her.

  Snapped out of her trance, Zandra tore her gaze from Remy to stare at his youngest sister, Racquel, who sat to her right. “Hmm? What’d you say, Rocky?” she asked, calling her by the childhood nickname she’d earned for the feisty temper that had frequently gotten her into fights at school.

  “I said,” Racquel repeated, her dark eyes glinting with amusement, “I need to move that candle out of the way before you and my brother start a fire. You think I haven’t noticed the way you two have been staring at each other across the table?”

  Zandra’s face flamed. Reaching for her rum cocktail, she mumbled, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  Racquel laughed. “Yeah, right. And I’m a world-famous supermodel.”

  “You could be.”

  Racquel snorted. An award-winning photographer, the tall, slender, exotic beauty could just as easily have made her living in front of the camera as behind it—a fact acknowledged by everyone but her.

  As Zandra sipped her drink, Racquel eyed her speculatively. “Did something happen between you and Remy this afternoon while the rest of us were gone?”

  Zandra shook her head quickly. “Of course not.”

  It was true. After their race—which she’d lost, of course—she and Remy had spent the next couple hours swimming, splashing and frolicking in the water like they’d done as children. By the time they returned to shore and collapsed upon their lounge chairs, Zandra had been too worn-out to do more than shove her sunglasses onto her face and close her eyes. She’d dozed off, awakening a short time later to find Remy kneeling beside her, gently easing her sandals onto her feet.

  He’d looked up at her, and their eyes met and held for a breathless moment before Zandra glanced away, mumbling something about needing to wash and dry her hair in time for dinner. They’d gathered their things and walked back up to the hotel without speaking. When they reached the door to Zandra’s room, Remy had brushed her cheek lightly with the back of his knuckles and mouthed, See you soon, before sauntering down the hall to his own room.

  Long after they parted ways, the warmth of his touch had lingered on her skin.

  Technically nothing had happened between them. Yet something had definitely changed. Zandra sensed it, like a tremor running beneath the ground before an earthquake erupts.

  It scared her shitless.

  Racquel sighed, the sound breaking into Zandra’s reverie. “Too bad.”

  Zandra glanced at her. “Too bad what?”

  “Too bad nothing went down between you and Remy.” Racquel grinned, snagging the last plantain from Zandra’s plate and forking it into her mouth. “But there’s always tomorrow.”

  Which was the last thing Zandra needed to think about.

  Gulping down more rum, she hazarded another glance at Remy. He was laughing and conversing with his eldest brother, Royce, whose dark good looks, charming personality and healthy bank account made him irresistible to every woman but the one who’d divorced him three years ago.

  When Remy suddenly turned his head and met Zandra’s gaze, a rush of heat flooded her loins.

  As they stared at each other, she realized that the only way she could keep herself out of trouble was to cut her trip a day short and catch the first thing smoking back to Chicago.

  “May I have everybody’s attention?”

  Silence fell over the table as everyone turned to look at Remy’s twin brother, Roderick, who wore a broad smile of satisfaction that matched the one worn by the gorgeous woman seated beside him.

  “Lena and I just wanted to thank all of you for joining us in St. Lucia—”

  “Yeah, it was a real hardship,” a deep voice joked, drawing a round of laughter.

  Roderick chuckled, shaking his head at his younger brother, River. “Wiseass.”

  “Roderick!” chided their big sister, Robyn, clapping both hands over the ears of the pigtailed little girl sitting next to her. “Have you forgotten that there are small children around?”

  “My bad.” Roderick winked at his niece. “Sorry, Mackenzie.”

  She gave him a huge, dimpled grin. “It’s all good, Uncle Rod.”

  Everyone laughed.

  When the humorous moment passed, Roderick continued warmly, “As I was saying, Lena and I are glad all of you could be here this week. At the risk of repeating what was already expressed at our wedding reception, we truly appreciate the love and support all of you have given us over the past four months. From helping with wedding preparations to dispensing marriage advice to knowing when we needed space to be alone together, everyone at this table played an important role in making our special day the most unforgettable day of our lives.”

  Turning to Lena, Roderick picked up her hand and laced their fingers together, gazing at her with such tender adulation that a wave of soft feminine sighs wafted around the table. Zandra was pretty sure she sighed, as well.

  “As you all know,” Roderick continued, “the way Lena and I came together was by no means typical. But then, there’s nothing remotely typical about the way I feel about her. I wanted her from the moment we met, and I have no regrets about going after her and not taking no for an answer. Now that we’re married, I fully intend to spend the rest of my life making sure that she never regrets giving her heart to me.”

  “Oh, baby,” Lena whispered tearfully. “I won’t regret a thing. I love you so much.”

  Roderick gently stroked her face. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

  Beaming with pride and satisfaction, Lena’s grandfather, Cleveland, lifted his glass and called out jubilantly, “Here’s to the bride and groom!”

  A chorus of cheers swept around the table as everyone raised their drinks to toast the newlyweds, who shared a deep, passionate kiss that left the women fanning themselves.

  “That’ll get me some more grandchildren soon,” predicted Roderick’s mother, Bernadette.

  Everyone laughed.

  “Not to be greedy,” added Eleanor Brand, the indomitable family matriarch, “but I’m ready to start planning the next wedding.”

  “Me, too,” Bernadette agreed.

  As several pairs of eyes turned and settle
d—inexplicably—on Remy and Zandra, a slow flush crawled up her neck and spread over her cheeks.

  Grandma Eleanor gave Remy and Zandra an indulgent smile. “Did you two have a good time this afternoon?”

  “Yes, ma’am, we did.” Lips twitching, Remy met Zandra’s gaze. “Didn’t we?”

  She couldn’t help smiling. “Yes. We did.”

  “That’s good,” Grandma Eleanor said approvingly. “I’m so glad you were able to come on this trip, Zandra. I would have been sorely disappointed if you couldn’t make it. You know you’ve always been a cherished member of this family.”

  “I know,” Zandra said with warm sincerity. “And I’m very grateful for that, Grandma Eleanor.”

  The old woman’s dark eyes twinkled. “Well, if you’d really like to show your gratitude—”

  “Oh, my God!” Racquel suddenly exclaimed, pointing toward the sky. “Would you guys just look at that!”

  Everyone turned to watch as the golden glow of the setting sun illuminated the horizon with breathtaking hues of pink, lavender and blue.

  As the others admired the view, Zandra leaned close to Racquel and murmured, “Thanks for the bailout.”

  Racquel chuckled, her eyes glimmering with amusement. “As someone who’s been on the receiving end of Grandma’s uncensored advice more times than I care to recall, I considered it my duty to intervene on your behalf.”

  Zandra grinned. “God bless you.”

  Not everyone was preoccupied with the spectacular sunset.

  As Zandra turned and reached for her drink, she noticed Remy and Roderick looking at each other from opposite ends of the table, silently communicating in their secret twin language.

  As her eyes narrowed suspiciously, the two brothers tipped their glasses to each other and shared the slow, cunning smile of coconspirators.

  After dinner, everyone lingered on the beach to enjoy the live music and the gentle trade winds wafting off the Caribbean Sea.

  Grabbing a cold bottle of Piton beer, Remy walked to a large boulder jutting out of the sand and nimbly climbed to the top. From his elevated perch he could see the entire beach, a glittering oasis rimmed by lush green mountains and cliffs.

 

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