Authors: April Angel,Milly Taiden
Chapter Three
Jessie glanced around her childhood friend’s new beach house. Kayla arranged for her to be picked up at the new helipad on the other side of the island. With the hectic schedule Kayla kept, she really needed it. She was scared Kayla had gone ahead and gotten a slew of single friends to hook her up with, even after she’d specifically asked her not to. Not that that had ever done any good with Kayla. Jessie’d been working alongside her for years and knew very well that her friend was a very hardheaded woman. Not to mention, Kayla was on a major happiness high and wanted everyone to be on that level with her.
Jessie sighed. She rolled her luggage to the same room she’d used the last time she’d visited, when she and Kayla had helped decorate the place. This wasn’t her first visit to the beach house, so she was familiar with the layout.
Bright sunlight streamed through the open windows. Sea air drifted into the house, calming her jumbled nerves. Boy did she need this getaway. Her very long divorce battle, which had been dragging for two years, was finally over. Her ex-husband had tried to take her to the cleaners. She pursed her lips as she reached her room and rolled the navy luggage to the bed.
“Asshole.”
Some men really were jerks. Big ones. He’d fought to keep the money her parents had worked hard to leave for her. A one-year marriage filled with lies, cheating, and deception had turned into a nightmare divorce that lasted twice as long as the marriage had. If someone would have told her she’d feel this drained after getting that leech out of her life, she wouldn’t have believed them. She curled her fingers into fists. Then she took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Relaxed. There had been too much craziness going on in her life. She was finally free.
She strolled around the bed to her room’s balcony. The view was captivating. Palm trees lined the beach area. White sand and clear blue water waited just some yards away. That’s what she needed.
A nice walk on the beach. To feel the sun on her face. The warm water on her feet. Hell. She needed to remember how to relax. It’d been too long since the last time. But now that she was free of Dan and his thieving ways, she could concentrate on having a life again.
Birds chirped outside. Their sounds beckoned her to the outdoors. She glanced down at her
tank top and shorts. Changing was probably a good idea. A soft breeze rustled the trees and brought in more of the salty sea air. The scent of the ocean was too powerful to ignore. She headed back out the door.
Yellow flowers, in multiple shades surrounded the island. It was why they called it Isla
Dorada, or Golden Island. Her mind wandered to the sound of the waves crashing. Sand started to gather in her sandals. She stopped by a palm tree to slip them off. When she glanced up, she stood rooted to the spot.
A man was by the beach. Though she knew Ryan and Kayla had other friends they’d invited constantly, she was under the impression she was the only one
there this time.
She couldn’t see his face. His back was to her where he sat on the sand. After a moment he stood. He tugged off his white T-shirt. She gasped. He was scarred.
So many scars. Her nails dug into the palm tree. She wanted to reach out and offer some comfort. It wasn’t that she hadn’t seen that many before. It was that she was caught off guard. Then she remembered the first rule of her job. No pity.
He turned sideways to glance up the beach. She caught his profile. Whoa. Forget the scars. The guy was hot. Her gaze did a swift sweep down his body. He had brown, short, spiky hair. Clearly he was one of Ryan’s friends. Jessie knew all of Kayla’s friends, and she would not have forgotten
him
. He had a body toned with muscles. He was pale though. Probably didn’t get out into the sun often. The front side of his body was scarred too. That didn’t take away from how good he looked overall. Besides, she had scars too. Only hers were internal.
He had flat, washboard abs. And—oh, dear God—muscular legs and arms. Her throat went dry. She wanted to run her fingers down his abs. Her brain short-circuited thinking of what it would feel like to have his stomach muscles tightening under her palm. Oh lord. This was one of Ryan’s friends, not some guy looking to get felt on by a woman who had been too stressed to have sex in so many months she couldn’t remember. Her toy drawer hadn’t been used in so long she was afraid the vibrators wouldn’t work anymore. That was the reason she’d brought some with her.
To try to
really
relax.
The sexy man ran for the water. He did a single dive. Perfect. So he was also a swimmer.
Carajo!
She watched the water for long seconds. Panic started to build inside. Where was he? What if—? He surfaced further out in the ocean. She bit her lip, looking at the clear blue water with concern. If something happened, she wouldn’t be able help him. She couldn’t swim. Kayla and Rissa had taken her to classes, but she was just too afraid. There was too much damn water surrounding her. The waves overwhelmed her and freaked her out.
He continued swimming, and the fear inside slowly dissipated. She took a glance up at the beach. Even if she was tempted, she wasn’t going to stand there and watch the guy do laps. That was stupid.
And very stalker-ish. The leather straps from her sandals bit into her palms, deciding for her. She made her way through the trees, up the beach.
* * *
The sun had started to set when she reached the house. Martha, Kayla and Ryan’s housekeeper, stood at the entrance waiting for her.
“Hi, Martha. I didn’t see you when I first got here.” She embraced the elderly woman in a hug. She’d always been nice to her.
“I was at the other house getting some things for dinner.”
She raised her brows. “Oh? Is dinner something special tonight?”
“But of course,
niña
.” Martha patted Jessie’s cheek. She loved calling Jessie and Rissa children. Not that she referred to Kayla any different. “Dinner is very special tonight. Ryan and Kayla have asked for you to please join them at the patio at six.”
Shit. She glanced down at her watch. Time had slipped past her. She’d been out for so long. Now she only had a half hour to shower and dress.
“Okay.” She rushed past Martha. “I’ll be there.”
She dashed to her room. It was fine. Really. She worked well under a deadline. Usually she had more than thirty minutes, but she’d make it happen. Her gaze darted around the room until it landed on the suitcase. Two seconds later, the navy suitcase lay in the middle of the king-size bed. She rummaged through, trying to decide what to wear. A sparkly, purple strapless dress caught her attention. How had that gotten in there? She could swear she’d left it behind. The more she stared at it, the more she wanted to wear it. The soft cotton material would be perfect for the hot weather. And the style was flattering for her curvy body.
Not normally a fan of dresses, because they tended to make her look bigger than she already was, she stayed away from them. The purple dress had been an impulse buy when Rissa had talked her into going shopping. After a bunch of disappointments with clothes that were supposed to be her size but for some reason she couldn’t fit into them, she’d found that dress. The fit had been so flattering. For once she didn’t feel like a cow.
Once she’d taken the world’s fastest shower, she shimmied into the dress and slipped her feet into some sandals. She’d just reached the door before she ran back and grabbed her perfume off her dresser and sprayed it a few times on her wrists and neck. Now she could go.
Lanterns surrounded the gazebo in the patio where dinner was being served. Wow. Martha had gone all out. A soft gold tablecloth covered the table with a large pitcher filled with multicolored flowers in the center. The setting caught her attention. She frowned. It was set for two.
Nervous energy prickled over her skin. Please no. Don’t let Kayla have done it to her.
Steps sounded behind her. She turned. Oh good lord.
“Sorry I’m late…” He trailed off once he got a good look at her face.
She gulped. “Hi.”
Holy hotness on a stick.
If he’d looked good before, then he was sinful now. He wore black slacks with a button down white
Guayabera
type short-sleeve shirt. She did a double-take to his face. He’d looked so pale before, but apparently his time in the water had given him some instant color. His face was golden. So were his arms.
“Hello.”
His gaze slid down her body in a slow caress. Then he met her gaze. The spark of interest in his eyes turned her from tongue-tied to dry-mouthed.
“I-
I’m Jessie. I mean,” She cleared her throat, “I’m Jessica Tavarez.” She cleared her throat. What she really wanted to do was fan her face.
“Hi Jessie, I’m Matt. Short for Matthew Payne.” He offered a hand.
She stared at his hand for a long moment before realizing he was trying to be polite and shake hers.
Dios mio
. If she stayed out there any longer, he’d think she was socially inept. Their fingers touched. Hot sparks shot up her hand and through her body.
“It’s nice to meet you, Matthew.”
“Normally I wouldn’t say this, but I don’t think I’m so angry with Kayla’s matchmaking right now.”
Neither was she. “She set us up, huh?”
He grinned. Her world tilted. That smile turned his rugged features into wet-dream gorgeous. Maybe she should go. A guy that good looking had to have a ton of women throwing themselves at him. The last thing she wanted was to turn into some guy’s notch on the bedpost.
“She did. I had a feeling she’d given in too easily.”
“Yeah, me too.” She chuckled nervously. Taking a step toward the table, she stopped, turned back to him, and spoke, “Please don’t feel you need to stay here with me. I’m sure you weren’t looking forward to being forced to eat with some person you don’t know.”
Matt’s stomach clenched. The voluptuous beauty was giving him a way out. He didn’t have to sit there and have an awkward dinner with her because Kayla had a one-track mind. There was no need to go through all the bullshit talk his dates had been filled with in the past. He could go. But his feet stayed rooted to the stone steps. And as if they had a mind of their own, they moved him toward the table.
“No sense in wasting perfectly good food.” He heard himself say.
Her eyes widened. A sexy come-hither smile spread over her full lips. “I think you’re right. We might as well eat.”
Thank God for food. Martha chose that moment to show up followed by a man he’d never seen in his days on the island.
“This is Carlos. He’s going to be serving you dinner.” She elbowed the young man in the side. Carlos rushed to place a
bread basket in the center of the table.
He glanced at Jessie. She cleared her throat, still smiling. He covered his chuckle with a cough.
“You two eat. Enjoy. I know what my little Kayla is trying to do. I’m not saying she is right, but it’s not my food’s fault. No reason to starve yourselves.” She winked. “Have fun.”
Chapter Four
He watched Martha leave then turned to Jessie. Her hands were curled into fists. She was obviously nervous. Instinct drove him to move. Light from the candles caught on her dark curls making each of her strands shimmer. He stopped himself from digging his fingers into her hair, to feel how soft it was, to see her moan as he caressed her scalp. Shit. He really needed to cut that out. Stopping beside her, he pulled the chair out for her to sit. Sparkly white teeth made an appearance with her wide smile. Her brown eyes reminded him of the smoothest milk chocolate.
“Thank you,” she said in a soft whisper. Her voice slipped down his cock in a light caress.
He took his seat across from her. Wow. She was so beautiful. Those pouty, shimmery lips and that thick, dark hair combined with her wide, brown eyes and he was hard as a rock. Then he remembered. The scars. He wouldn’t take her up to his room and slide the clingy dress off her body as he kissed his way down. He wasn’t ready to see the pity in her beautiful eyes. And if he couldn’t have her tonight, he needed a drink.
“Champagne?” Carlos returned with an open bottle at that moment.
“Yes, please.”
Once both glassed had been filled, Matt smiled at Jessie’s attempt to look everywhere but at him. A second later she gave up. Their gazes met. Carlos left them alone again. The leaves on the nearby palm trees rustled against the wind. He smiled. She licked her lips and once again his thoughts dropped down to the gutter.
“Let’s toast.” He lifted his flute up toward her.
“Sounds like a good idea.” She followed suit with her own.
“What would you like to drink to?” He asked, hoping to learn something about her.
“How about to fresh beginnings?”
“Perfect.” It was as if she’d read his mind. They clinked glasses and he sipped on the fuzzy liquor while he watched her.
He needed a fresh start with a woman that might not see him like a broken piece of furniture. Yes, he had scars, scars he wasn’t going to get rid of to make someone else happy. Those scars were part of him. Of the experience he’d lived during a very ugly war. He hadn’t fully adjusted
to them, but whatever woman he ended up with would need to understand that he and the scars were one.
“So what do you do?” He asked, interested to hear more words come out of those sinful lips.
He bit back a groan when her tongue made an appearance, all pink and wet, sliding over her bottom lip. Arousal sparkled in her brown eyes. The way she licked her lip and glanced at his mouth brought vivid images of some of the things he’d have her do with that tongue. And those images would be used later for some self-pleasure.
“I work with Kayla. I’m her office manager. I also volunteer at the hospital where she treats children. What do you do?”
That was the problem about asking about someone, they ended up asking you things too.
“Ryan and I were in the same unit. Some of us returned together, after a bomb attack.”
Why did he say that? Was he intentionally trying to push her away, to shock her with his life?
She leaned forward. Both hands dropped to her lap. “That’s terrible. What types of injuries did you suffer?”
Her low fuck-me voice played havoc with his mind. Multiple visuals of her begging him to do her racked his brain. He gulped down the champagne and was given a reprieve from answering when Carlos returned with their salad.
A gust of wind played with her curls, bouncing them over her shoulders. Her eyes lifted from her food to pin him with a sensual stare. “Tell me.”
His breath caught in his chest. “I suffered burns on my torso.”
She nodded, but said nothing. Then, much to his amazement, she stabbed her salad with her fork and started to eat. It wasn’t what he’d been expecting. Where was the pity?
The sad eyes and trembling lip? Or the let me see questions? Followed by the “oh God, that looks awful” remarks.
“The burns were bad,” he added.
She glanced to the side where Carlos returned to refill their champagne. “I’m sure they were.”
And back to the food. What the heck? Confusion filled him. So he tried again. “Most people pity me, but I can’t stand that.”
“Pity sucks.” She continued eating. “Do you still work for the same group?”
“No. I was honorably discharged,” he answered, but his real interest lay in why she didn’t ask more about his injuries.
“If you’re no longer in that team, what are you doing now?” She pushed the salad plate away and took a deep breath. Her full breasts pushed up against the neckline of her strapless dress. He swallowed down the groan rushing up his windpipe. Hell, he almost swallowed his damn tongue to keep from drooling at the sight.
“I recently joined my good friend’s security team. Got my first job lined up in New York.” He smiled at the way she caressed the petals of the flowers on the table.
Her head snapped up. “I live in New York.”
Things just got better and better.
“I have to ask. Curiosity is killing me. Why haven’t you asked more questions about my scars?”
She shrugged those gorgeous tanned shoulders. “Any type of scar leave
s a trail of pain behind. We never forget what hurts us. They’re an endless reminder of an experience so significant that they never go away.” She pinned him with her gaze. “Some people wear them on their bodies, while others carry them on the inside, but it doesn’t change the fact that once we get them, they’ll always be a part of us.” After a slow sip of her champagne, she sighed softly. “I only want to know what you want to tell me, Matt.”
Wow. Those words—her words—described his feelings perfectly. It was eerie. Almost like she knew how it felt first hand, which brought up more questions. “What happened to make you feel that way?”
Carlos retrieved the salad plates. Grilled fish, wild rice, and an assortment of vegetables followed.
“This looks fabulous.” She dazzled both men with her smile.
His mind ordered him to find out more about her. All about her. Had she lived through pain like him? Anything was possible. If Jessie related, even if by a small degree, to his pain, he knew she was special. “Do you have scars, Jessie?”
Another of those smoldering looks travelled from her to his side of the table. “Yes. I was married once. It was a short marriage, filled with too many issues.” She laughed a soft but dry sound. “The marriage wasn’t the worst part. The divorce was.”
He blinked at the change in her tone. Sorrow etched all over her features, but then she took a deep breath and it disappeared. The pain tugged at his heart. He knew pain. And she did too.
“Sometimes we learn from our mistakes.”
“Yes. Sometimes we do.”
Carlos returned with dessert. He placed her flan on the table with a flourish.
“Ooooh. I
love
flan!” She licked her lips while staring at the dessert.
“I do too,” he agreed. Another thing they had in common. He bet he’d find more by the end of the night. Maybe, just maybe, he’d give into the temptation and kiss her.
Those few moments lightened the mood considerably.
“So who did you piss off to get set up?” She winked.
Wait a second. She winked at him. That had to be one of the sexiest winks he’d ever seen.
“Nobody. Kayla’s been in a matchmaking mood ever since she and Ryan got married. It’s like all of a sudden everyone must get married too.” He chuckled, watching her dig her spoon into her dessert.
She visibly winced. “I know what you mean.”
“Aren’t you interested in finding love?” The question popped out of his mouth before he had a chance to stop it. Love? What the fuck was wrong with him? He’d just met a woman who’d been in a bad marriage and he was talking love. Dumbass. Plus what he really wanted was to get her out of that dress. He could think of at least a dozen ways to spend the night with her without showing his own body. It’d take some maneuvering, but he could work it.
With her gaze stuck on his, she sucked on the caramel covered spoon. Wild fire lust spread down to his cock. Need burned in his veins, driving the urge to strip her bare and lick her entire body.
“How about a walk on the beach?” She suggested, not answering his last question.