HUNTER (The Caine Brothers Book 1) (6 page)

Two things stopped her; first, her legs were so weak from that flipping amazing orgasm that she didn’t think she could walk across the room, and secondly, the anticipation of owing him heated her all over again.

While he’d showered the first time, she’d moved all their luggage to the closet. Now, she went to find a dry pair of panties.

She changed them and sat on the bed, waiting for Hunter and remembering his fingers on her and in her. The ghost of his touch still lingered on her skin and in the receding pulse of her orgasm.

If that was just a sample of what they’d do to each other, she didn’t need to sleep on it. To hell with caution, she was ready for more.

But apparently he’d decided they’d stick to the agreement.

It didn’t take long for him to finish in the bathroom, and when he left the bathroom this time, he looked like he could barely contain his triumph. Like by making her come like that he’d proven some primal point. Like he’d achieved a coup, vanquished a rival, swept in and made a hostile takeover. He puffed his chest, threw his shoulders back, and pretty much strutted into the room.

“Kinda proud of yourself there, chief?” she asked.

“Maybe a little. Where’s my suitcase?”

She pointed at the closet. He went in and rummaged, coming out with charcoal slacks and a blue shirt. He laid everything out on the bed, then paused.

“There are four restaurants here. Any idea what you’re hungry for?” she asked.

“Seriously, you have to ask?”

She looked at him, saw the unfiltered lust in his eyes, and remembered he still hadn’t been properly taken care of. A little bit of waiting wouldn’t hurt Mr. I-get-everything-I-want-when-I-want-it CEO. Might build some character.

“Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“I don’t like to wait.”

“Waiting makes everything better.”

“Bullshit.”

“You’ll see.”

He rolled his eyes, and she smiled. This weekend could be a lot of fun.

“Are you going to sit there while I dress?” he asked.

“Do you want me to?”

“Yes. But if you do, we won’t be waiting for tomorrow. If I get naked with you now, you’d better be ready to skip dinner and forget about sleep for most of the night.”

“Well, then. I’ll step out and let you dress. Because I’m starving.”

“Coward.”

She slid off the bed, laughing at his fake insult. As she passed him on the way to the door, she grabbed the edge of his towel and yanked it off.

He growled and reached for her, but she squealed and ran for the living room. She flopped onto the couch, giggling like a little girl, but when she looked back to the bedroom Hunter stood in the doorway, naked as the day he was born, the single most glorious man she’d ever had the privilege to witness in the nude.

He’d reached up and hooked his fingers over the top of the door jamb, and lounged there casually displaying himself for her perusal. She had no doubt he meant for her to understand what she was missing. Her skin tingled, and her mouth watered in appreciation. She’d need to change her panties again.

Tall, tan, lean, and hung, Hunter made the perfect argument without even saying a word.

“Wow.” How she managed even one coherent word, she had no idea.

He grinned. “Damn right, wow.”

“Ego much?”

He shrugged and turned back to the bedroom, giving her a great view of his ass.

Waiting for tomorrow would be a serious challenge, but she didn’t like to lose any more than he did, so she’d wait. Until then, she’d have as much fun teasing him as possible.

After Hunter dressed—still looking too damn sexy to be legal—they headed down to the outdoor restaurant. The dining room consisted of a raised floor composed of some kind of dark, warm wood, and a roof made of the same wood in an open crisscross of beams. The maître d’ seated them at one of the tables covered with a crisp, white cloth. A rustic black brushed metal and glass lantern stood in the center of each table, a lit candle inside.

A warm tropical breeze blew in off the ocean, only several yards away. The rhythmic crashing of waves onto the white sandy beach was better than any muted dinner music.

Hunter held her chair for her while she sat, then took his own. Normally, she didn’t appreciate those kind of gentlemanly gestures because they reduced her, as a woman, to someone who couldn’t do for herself. It implied she was fragile, helpless, and needed caring for. But with Hunter, the gesture felt intimate, made her feel feminine but not unequal. She was perfectly capable of holding her own with him, and would just as likely hold the door for him and not think anything of it.

A waiter approached the table and handed them menus. He told them the special, the soup of the day, and asked for their beverage order.

Hunter requested the sommelier, and once they had wine and dinner ordered, they were finally alone. Allison fiddled with her silverware. Now that they were in public, things between them felt awkward. It was easy to tease and play sexy games in private, but while in public they had to behave. That meant normal conversation.

“It’s a beautiful evening.” She cringed. Small talk sucked. “I’ve never been to Costa Rica. I didn’t know what to expect, beyond ‘tropical’.”

“I’ve never been here, either. When I travel it’s usually for business, and I don’t spend a lot of time sightseeing.”

“Technically, this is a business trip, too, but lucky for us it involves sightseeing and recreation and good food.”

“True.”

As if taking his cue from her words, the wine steward reappeared and they went through the process of sniffing and tasting and approving, then waited for him to pour for both of them.

Allison sipped hers, enjoying the crisp dryness of it.

“So, tell me something about yourself that has nothing to do with real estate development, boardrooms, or bank accounts.”

His brows scrunched together as if he had to think hard about his life. To consider if he even had a life outside of those things.

“What do you want to know?”

“Um. How about family?”

He made a grunt that sounded disgusted, but said, “You met my father and most recent stepmother. A couple of my five brothers, too, as I recall.”

“A super tall huge guy and a rangy blond?”

“Yeah. Between all of us there’ve been three mothers. Mine died when I was a kid.”

“Wow. From your gloomy tone, I’m going to guess family’s a touchy subject.”

He wiped his mouth with his napkin, then placed it back in his lap. “Not really. I just don’t usually talk to people about them. My family’s, shall we say, unusual.”

Allison snorted. “Everyone’s family is unusual in some way or another. There’s no such thing as a ‘normal’ family. For instance, my mom and dad divorced when I was ten. Mom worked her ass off at two, sometimes three jobs, to support me and my little brother until she remarried when I was fifteen. My stepdad’s a good guy, but I think Mom settled mostly because she just couldn’t do it alone anymore. We needed a second income and she wanted companionship.”

“There are worse reasons to get married. Are they still together?”

“Actually, yes. I think Mom learned to love him. Now that Jesse and I are out of the house, Mom and Rick get out and do a lot more things together.”

“Jesse’s your brother?”

“Yep. He and his partner live in San Diego, so I don’t see him as often as I want to.”

“Partner?”

“He came out to us when he was twelve. For his own sanity and safety, I sometimes wished he’d waited until he could get away from the south. But he’s a stubborn little shit and insisted on being who he was, everyone else be damned.”

“Sounds like his sister.”

Allison laughed. “Yeah, I guess. I have a pretty strong sense of self. So, five brothers? That’s a lot of testosterone in one house.”

“You have no idea. Everything was a competition. Dad encouraged it.”

“No relaxing pizza and movie nights at your house?”

He barked a laugh. “No.”

The waiter brought their appetizer and two plates. While they helped themselves Allison asked, “What do your brothers do now?”

“You’re going to think the whole pack of them sound pretentious.”

“Oh?”

“I’m the oldest and going down in age we have a biker, a Navy SEAL, a rock star wannabe, an MMA wannabe, and a hermit.”

“You’re right. That’s quite a group. A hermit and a couple wannabes?”

“Bishop’s the hermit. Don’t even ask about him. The rest of us don’t. Jaxon’s got talent, but it’s not easy to break into the music industry. And Colton’s got skills in the cage, if he could get his temper under control. I think you met Xander and Damian at the wedding.”

“They’re the biker and the SEAL?”

“Yeah. And now I’m done talking about my family.”

“Fair enough. Paper scissor rock for the last scallop?”

He cocked his head as if she’d just spoken an alien language. “You mean rock paper scissors?”

She gasped and clutched her chest is mock shock. “You’re one of those people?”

When he realized she was kidding, his face relaxed into a smile. She liked the way it made his face look.

“You know that the proper technical name of the game is rock paper scissors, right?” he asked.

“I do not accept that as fact. You can’t prove it.”

“Is that the lawyer talking?”

She nodded and speared the last scallop. “They taught us that in lawyer school. You have to have evidence or it’s not a fact.”

The waiter brought their dinner, and they spent the next hour eating, talking, laughing, and polishing off the bottle of wine. Allison couldn’t remember the last date she’d enjoyed so thoroughly, even without the pre-dinner orgasm.

By the time they finished dinner, Hunter experienced a condition he was unfamiliar with. He felt warm, sated, relaxed. He didn’t feel the need to check stocks or email or messages. He didn’t need to stretch the tightness from his neck. He didn’t have the urge to tell anyone what to do.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d diagnose himself as happy. Or at the very least content.

Maybe it was the half bottle of wine he’d drunk, or the delicious meal, or the tropical breeze.

But when he looked across the table at Allison, he had to admit she had at least something to do with it.

Her smile lit up her face, and her laugh infected him and before he knew it he was laughing, too.

The waiter brought the check and he grabbed the pen, ready to charge it to their room. As he put pen to paper, Allison cleared her throat.

“What?” he asked.

“Don’t forget to sign it Mr. McDowell.”

She smothered a snicker in her napkin.

“What the hell’s with the name, anyway?”

“I figured since you said you wanted to visit the resort incognito you’d want to use a fake name. I mean, your name’s fairly well known in the real estate business. This way you’re undercover.”

“So you made me Mr. Allison McDowell?”

“Yeah. I thought it was pretty funny.”

“Hilarious.”

He understood her reasoning, but didn’t much like the feeling of giving up his identity to someone else. He wondered how often women felt that way when they married.

He signed his fake name with a flourish, leaving a sizable tip, then stood and offered Allison his hand. She took it and he tucked hers into the crook of his arm.

“How about a walk on the beach?” he asked.

She looked up at him with feigned surprise. “You’re dangerously close to being romantic, right now, Mr. McDowell.

“Blame the wine,” he said, but after looking into her mesmerizing blue eyes he added, “and maybe the company,
Mrs. McDowell.
”

She leaned into him as they took the steps from the dining platform down to the path to the beach, and that warm feeling in his middle migrated to his chest.

What was his problem, anyway? He had a reputation—professional, calculating, cutthroat, just like his father had taught him. He speculated, he bought, he developed, and sold all with his eyes fixed firmly on the bottom line. Sure, he made sure his employees were paid above average wages and he offered better benefits than he had to, but that was all just good for business. Happy employees were good employees. They stayed longer, did a better job, talked up the company, increased profit, and it saved money having to retrain new people for the same jobs over and over. The company still made billions, and so did he.

And it was because he was professional, calculating, and cutthroat.

At least he’d thought so.

The beach ran parallel to the resort grounds. Some of the trees in the gardens were lit by twinkling lights, but a full moon provided most of the illumination for their walk.

“I’m so full,” Allison said. “That was the best meal I’ve had in a long time.”

“Mmm. Me too.”

Allison stopped to take off her shoes and dug her toes into the sand. She made a blissful groan. “You’ve gotta take your shoes off. This sand is warm and soft and amazing.”

He was skeptical, but in the end he did as she asked, mostly because he didn’t want to get his shoes full of sand. She was right, though. When he worked his toes into the sand it felt pretty damn good.

“Am I right?” she asked.