by Jayci Lee
The silence stretched on between them as his gaze bore into hers with an intensity that stole her breath. His cocky grin was nowhere in sight; instead, he looked at her with the thirst of a man lost in the desert. Confusion clouded her brain and she hid her face by digging in her tote for her sunscreen.
“Did you just get here, too?” Natalie asked to break the tension.
“Yes.” Garrett cleared his throat. “Just.”
“We must’ve crossed paths at the villa.”
“Right. I saw your luggage in our room when I arrived.”
Silence settled around them again as Natalie smoothed white lotion down her legs. It smelled like an orange Creamsicle. She succeeded in avoiding Garrett’s eyes for as long as she could.
But she finished all too soon, leaving only her back undone. Would it look odd if I dislocate my shoulder trying to get sunscreen on my back?
“Here.” Garrett pushed himself out of the pool. “Allow me.”
Despite the hot sun, a chill tripped down her spine like tumbling dominoes.
“Th-thank you.”
Natalie handed him the tube as he settled his glorious wet body next to hers. She gasped and hunched forward. She wasn’t sure what startled her more—the coolness of his hands or the electric shock his touch set off.
“Sorry. The water was pretty cold.” He tugged her back toward him. “Now, hold still.”
He started at the curve of her neck then slid his hands down to the top of her shoulders. Cupping one, he circled his other palm down her back. His touch grew hot against her skin, and it was all she could do to keep from leaning back and purring.
“Your skin’s so fair. Almost as transparent as fine china.” His breath warmed the back of her neck. He leaned in closer, putting his lips at her ear. “Would you break if you’re not handled gently?”
“I’m stronger than I look,” she said. And right now, she wanted to test her strength with something hard and fast.
Natalie twisted around to face him, her breathing uneven. He perused her body, an arrogant tilt to his lips, and a flush of arousal spread across her bare skin. He wanted her. That much was certain. Emboldened, she met his gaze and held it before she lowered her eyes to stare appreciatively at his chest, so smooth and strong.
She’d wondered countless times what he would look like under his dress shirts, and her imagination had not done him justice. The dips and grooves of his well-defined abs begged to be touched. He allowed her to study his body, sitting so still that she wondered if he was breathing. Her hand reached out of its own accord and she pulled it back with a sharp gasp.
She was treading a dangerous path and needed to retreat several paces. It could only lead to heartbreak. He’d made it clear their marriage would be short-lived. If Natalie followed her instincts and gave herself to him, she would be the only one to blame for her regrets.
“I’m going in for a swim,” she said, hoping the water was very, very cold because she was burning inside and out.
* * *
He stared at her for a few seconds, letting the electrified air float around them. Her cheeks turned an adorable shade of coral, which told him that she wasn’t immune to the desire raging between them.
For a moment, he thought she was going to touch him. The image of her delicate hands on his naked torso almost made him groan.
“I’ll see you later,” he said, his voice curt. “I need to take care of a couple matters before dinner tonight.”
“Okay, bye.”
She dipped her toes in the pool, testing the water. He needed to get the hell away before she got wet. Garrett hurried toward the pool gate as quickly as he could, which wasn’t very fast because the mindless part of his body refused to stand down. He hoped he was being inconspicuous as he placed his T-shirt in front of his tented board shorts and concentrated on deflating the tent.
Aunt Margo’s sadistic cheek pinches. My old mangy mutt with his perpetual drooling. The food poisoning I had last summer. Just. Don’t. Think. About. Her.
Natalie had cast a dangerous spell over him. He saw nothing else when she was near. Years of hard work, his family’s legacy and the responsibility of ensuring the livelihood of thousands of employees were the foundation on which he’d built his adult life, but he forgot everything. He became a being of want and need. He had no control over it.
He had to devise a hands-off strategy for this weekend. Making certain he hardly spent a moment alone with Natalie had worked so far, but his desire howled in his veins even when they were apart. If I have this much trouble not touching her out in public, how the hell am I going to keep my hands off her tonight? Resisting her allure would be torture—exquisite but agonizing torture. He needed a chastity belt for men.
By the time he reached the hotel lobby, Garrett had himself under control and pulled on his T-shirt. Hansol’s employees crowded the air-conditioned sanctuaries of the indoor bars and restaurants, and their objective was loud and clear—consume vast amounts of alcohol and make public spectacles of themselves.
People were convinced what happened at company retreats didn’t count in real life. For Garrett, who had been in the public eye his entire life, every second counted.
“Mr. Song, sir! Come join us!”
A few of the more inebriated employees tried to wave him over. These were the same employees who practically clicked their heels and scuttled away when he passed them in the office.
Garrett gave a curt nod and walked on, but he envied them with sudden intensity. He longed to forget about family expectations, and honoring your elders over your own desires. He wanted to burn away the scars of his childhood, his cynicism and his self-preservation instinct. He wished he could forget everything and be reckless. Get drunk in public, and make love to his wife...
A humorless laugh escaped from him. He was Garrett Song. Control was everything.
* * *
The moment he stepped into their villa and saw Natalie—lovelier in her shorts and T-shirt than any other woman he’d ever seen—he forgot all about work, plans or legacy.
When he’d run into Natalie at the pool, the walls he’d meticulously constructed to shield his desire collapsed like a fortress made of smoke. His mind had been congested with yearning and hunger, and he couldn’t turn to his work for refuge. Instead, he’d gone to the hotel gym to work out until his muscles screamed and he forgot how much he wanted to take his wife to bed. Unfortunately, his dick didn’t care how tired the rest of his body was. One look at her and it was all too alert and ready for its own brand of workout. There was no denying he wanted her more than his next breath.
“Hi.” She took a few uncertain steps toward him, eyeing him warily. “I was just about to make some tea. Would you like a cup?”
“No, thank you.” He stalked her until she backed into the edge of the sofa.
He let his eyes roam her face, then down her body, soaking in every curve and flare. By the time his gaze returned to her face, all he heard was the thunder of his pounding heart. He raised his hand and smoothed his thumb across her cheek. Her lashes fluttered and her lips parted on an indrawn breath. He froze, his mind and heart battling.
In halting movements, he buried his fingers in her hair and drew her to him. With a shaky exhale, he brushed his lips against hers in a fleeting, reverent touch. He withdrew just enough to meet her eyes and waited. His whole body shook with longing and fear—of what, he didn’t know.
Natalie held his gaze, peering steadily at him before leaning in. She kissed one corner of his mouth, then the other, each fleeting touch sending tremors down his spine. With a whispered sigh, she fully claimed his lips, pressing her body against his. He stood still, his hands hovering near her shoulders—to push her away or to hold on to her, he didn’t know.
When she squirmed against him, demanding a response, Garrett caved with a guttural groan. His mouth sought hers
while his hands skimmed her sides and hips before reaching back to cup her round ass. She mewled in approval as her fingers dug into his back. Natalie caught fire in his arms and he couldn’t get enough. His tongue flicked, teased and plunged into her warmth, desperate to possess her.
Garrett growled, picked her up by the waist and braced her against the wall. He rolled his hips against her until they both moaned. Another minute of this and he was going to lose it in his pants like a goddamn sixteen-year-old. He drew back an inch and cursed under his breath.
Natalie took advantage of the brief pause to step out of his reach. He blinked at the sudden loss of heat and lifted his hands to bring her back to him.
“We shouldn’t have done that,” she said in a husky whisper. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, but her expression was cool and detached. “We’re both sexually frustrated from our forced celibacy, but we can’t lose sight of our agreement.”
She was absolutely right, but it gutted him to hear the words—the same words he repeated to himself whenever she was near. Well, no more.
“I’m beyond frustrated,” he said. And damn the agreement.
Her eyes widened, as if she’d heard the unsaid words. It was time to stop hiding from the inevitable. He was going to make love to his wife tonight, and to hell with the consequences.
Eleven
Natalie couldn’t quite put her finger on it. Garrett wasn’t acting any differently than usual, but she got goose bumps every time he glanced at her. He exuded the air of a panther who was leisurely circling his cornered prey.
She was probably imagining things after the heated episode earlier. The need to touch and be touched had risen like a primal instinct, and her body had screamed to take him inside her. Breaking away from his arms was harder than she could’ve imagined, but she’d been certain he would’ve done the same thing once his cool logic pierced through the fog of lust. She’d withdrawn from his embrace in the nick of time, self-preservation coming to the rescue.
Natalie sat on the couch and tied her shoes with excessive care. She heard Garrett moving behind the closed doors of the bedroom, and willed herself not to imagine him changing. She grabbed the remote and flipped through the channels. Every time she peeked at the clock, it seemed to be standing still, as though its hands were bound by invisible string. It was almost time for their tennis match with the Diazes. She wanted out of the oddly charged villa before she jumped her husband.
“Are you ready?” he asked as he strode into the living room. He wore a black polo shirt and shorts, looking thoroughly fit and masculine.
“Yes.” She bolted to her feet and shot out the door, her heart beating erratically at the sight of him.
The sun was making its leisurely descent and the cool breeze felt lovely on her warm cheeks. They rumbled toward the tennis court in a golf cart, and some of the tension left her shoulders. It had just been a kiss—a long kiss with some heavy petting, but just a kiss nonetheless. She would put it past her. A glance at her husband’s calm, easy expression said he already had.
When they arrived, Garrett tipped the driver while Natalie glanced toward the court. The Diazes were already there, stretching. These people meant business.
“I see them over there,” she said, waving.
They had to be well into their fifties but looked as lithe and athletic as people half their age. They were decked out in matching white outfits as though tennis was their second career. Natalie’s pulse leaped with excitement. Worthy opponents.
Garrett grimaced by her side, not half as excited as she. But she didn’t buy his claims of being rusty at the game. Her husband’s every movement spoke of strength and agility. If he’d forgotten how to swing a racquet, he was going to pick it right back up during the warm-up sets.
“What’s your plan?” His eyes danced with mischief. “Should we throw the game to stoke Sebastian’s ego? That should help me gain his support.”
Natalie gasped. “Don’t even joke about something like that. The only way to seal the partnership is to annihilate them and earn their respect.”
“Annihilate them?” Her husband arched an eyebrow.
She shrugged, fighting a blush. “Or just kick their butts a little.”
“I don’t know how we got talked into this.”
“Here are the newlyweds,” Sebastian said as he and Camilia approached.
“You’ll go easy on us, right?” Garrett smiled and shook his hand.
“Not a chance,” the older man said.
Camilia hugged Natalie, squealing like a young girl. “I’m so glad we could do this.”
“Me, too,” Natalie said. Traci used to tell her she got too competitive sometimes, but it was all good, harmless fun. She just really liked to win, and there was nothing wrong with that. “Should we hit some warm-up balls?”
To her disappointment, Garrett actually was a bit rusty. His serves were poetic, but his backhand needed work. And Camilia and Sebastian were even better than Natalie had assumed.
“Damn it, Garrett.” Natalie tried to keep the impatience out of her voice but he gave the Diazes an easy point. “That was your ball.”
“Sorry, honey.” His lips twitched. “I got distracted. Your skirt is way too short for me to be on my game.”
What has gotten into him?
“Thank you, Natalie,” Sebastian guffawed from across the net.
It was a close second set. Her limbs ached and her lungs burned. They could still win if they took the next set. Garrett hadn’t made any more careless mistakes, but she had a feeling he wasn’t putting in his full effort.
She glanced over her shoulder and saw him spinning his racquet in his hand, looking damn fine in his fitted polo and shorts. The man had seriously muscular thighs and his biceps flexed and bulged with every movement. He caught her checking him out and his face split into a slow, sexy grin.
Everything happened in a split second, but she saw it in slow motion. They were all tired, which was probably why Camilia’s next serve veered to the wrong side and came straight toward Natalie. She just had to lift her racquet and shield herself, but she was too focused on her husband to react in time. The ball caught Natalie squarely on the forehead. She fell onto her bottom and sat dazed with a hand over her injury.
“Natalie.” Garrett was by her side in an instant and peeled her hand off her forehead. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, my goodness.” Camilia had reached her side. “Are you all right, Natalie? I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t worry. It startled me more than anything,” Natalie said, but her voice sounded faint.
Sebastian, who’d disappeared from the court when it happened, now sprinted to them with a bag of ice. “Here you are. Put this on.”
“Thank you, but I’m fine.”
Garrett grabbed the ice and placed it gently on her forehead, ignoring her protests. Natalie got her bearings back in a few minutes. The mild throbbing told her she was going to have some bruising the next day, but she was otherwise perfectly fine.
“That’s all, folks,” she said, waving her hands to dispel their worried expressions. “The show’s over.”
Natalie wanted to get off the cold ground, but before she could stand, Garrett reached under her and lifted her as though she didn’t weigh much more than Sophie. She squeaked but reflexively grabbed onto him.
“Oh, my,” Camilia said, fanning her face. “Maybe I should get hit in the head with a ball so Sebastian would carry me like that.”
“There’s no need for such extremes.” Sebastian reached out to grab her and Camilia slapped his hands away, laughing.
Garrett met Natalie’s eyes with a smile that made her heart vibrate like a windup alarm clock. “Feeling okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. You can put me down.”
He shifted her in his arms but ignored her request. “Okay, you kids. I need to take m
y wife back to our villa.”
“Of course,” Sebastian said, pausing from their horseplay. “Please call us if you need anything. And let’s play a round of golf next week to talk about your proposal in detail.”
“Thank you. That sounds great. I’ll call you Monday,” Garrett said, and turned to leave.
“I’m sorry about knocking you down.” Camilia waved, her smile bright and affectionate. “Good night.”
“Wait.” Natalie remembered something very important. “We didn’t finish the game. We don’t have a winner yet.”
“Why don’t we call it a tie?” Garrett said.
“A tie? But that’s so...not winning.” Natalie deflated in her husband’s arms.
“Well, why don’t we say we won?” Garrett’s warm breath tickled her ear. She sighed and a shiver ran through her, awareness simmering between them. “We won Sebastian’s support.”
“I guess you’re right.” They’d not only secured their business goal, but also gained the Diazes’ friendship. It was a double win.
Garrett looked down at her with a perplexed frown, but his eyes twinkled with humor. “When am I not?”
* * *
When the golf cart stopped in front of their villa, Garrett reached for his wife.
“I’m really okay,” Natalie protested.
He ignored her and carried her through the door. The significance of the act hit him a moment later. How appropriate to carry his bride over the threshold on their long-overdue honeymoon.
Natalie gazed at him with wide, vulnerable eyes. He was hit again with how alluring she was—so innocent yet sensual. In an instant, his blood turned molten with raw desire. Once inside, he lowered her to the floor, letting her body slide slowly down his.
All his reasons for not touching her were still valid, but he couldn’t fight what they had anymore. Their kiss earlier had proven that. Whenever he was near her, she came into sharp focus and everything else ceased to exist. Call it a cruel twist of fate, but their attraction was beyond their control. And they were caught in its vortex again.