No Strings Attached (3 page)

One woman caught his eye. A flash of red swimsuit, long brown hair, and just something
about her—

He straightened, leaned forward, then stood and walked to the railing of the deck
to get a better look. She was lying on the chaise, one knee bent, sunglasses on and
a hat shielding the upper part of her face from the sun, so he couldn’t really tell.

And damn, he’d never seen Ella…uncovered, but this woman’s body was a knockout. A
light sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, looking as though drops of gold had been
sprinkled all over her.

She stood, and Clay sucked in a breath. Her breasts were full, but not overly large.
Just perfect for her frame. Her hips flared out below her small waist, her belly was
flat and she had beautiful, shapely legs. Toned arms, rockin’ shoulders…This woman
either worked out like a demon, or worked for a living.

She pulled off the hat and dragged her fingers through her hair, pulled off her sunglasses,
then headed to the pool and dove in. She swam a few laps, then came up the stairs,
water sluicing off her body.

Clay finally exhaled. It was Ella. Holy shit. She sure looked a lot different in a
bikini than she did in boots, jeans and a work shirt. He almost felt guilty over the
tightening of his cock.

Almost.

She smiled when the waitress brought her a fresh drink. He loved her smile. She didn’t
do it often enough.

Clay took his seat again, peering at her through the slats on the deck. No one approached
or sat next to her. She seemed to be alone, at least here at the pool.

But was she meeting someone?

He still had no idea what he was doing here. He had yet to book the deep-sea fishing
excursion he’d used as an excuse for coming to Hawaii. It sure as hell wasn’t entirely
for Ella. Just partly. He felt responsible for her.

So he wanted to make sure Ella was okay.

Then he’d go fishing.

Or so he kept telling himself as he spent the better part of the afternoon ogling
Ella while she sunbathed and took a few dips in the pool. He felt like a stalker.
Or a private investigator. Only no one had hired him to watch her. That one he’d decided
on his own.

She finally left the pool about five, and he did the same, feeling ridiculous for
spying on her. What was he going to do if she met a man? Lurk behind the nearest tree
and watch them? And then what? Get a telephoto lens so he could see in her room and
watch them get it on? Which would be physically impossible since she was on the tenth
floor.

Hell. He didn’t know what he was doing here, other than acting like a dumbass.

He took a shower, made a few calls, then worked on his laptop for a couple hours.
Sitting in his room made him stir-crazy and he was getting hungry. He got dressed
and decided to see what was going on downstairs.

If he was smart, he’d just call Ella’s room and let her know he was here.

But he wanted to lie low, at least for a bit, to see what she was up to. If she was,
in fact, meeting up with some guy, he’d be embarrassed as hell. This way, he could
sneak a peek at her, make sure she was okay, then go fishing.

He had a bite to eat at the restaurant—no sign of Ella in there. After, he followed
the sounds of loud music to the club across the walkway from the condo. Neon lights
and blaring bass signaled he’d reached the hot spot.

The club was packed when he shoved through the front door. Definitely no kids here.
All adults, some couples, a few singles, a lot of them crowded together on a giant
dance floor swirling with colored lights overhead. Clay made a beeline for the bar
and grabbed a beer, then leaned against the padded leather edge and surveyed the crowd.

How the hell was he going to tell if Ella was even in here? There had to be more than
a hundred people in the place, all packed together like sardines. He supposed he’d
have to just make the rounds.

He pushed off the bar and strolled around the tables. It was so damn dark in there
he couldn’t see a foot in front of him. He guessed the club considered this trendy
or even romantic, but he found it damned irritating, mainly because he couldn’t make
out any faces until he was inches away. How was he supposed to find Ella—if she was
even in here? And keeping the fact he was here a secret was going to be impossible
if he had to get in everyone’s face.

He finally gave up after about ten minutes and moved back to the bar, ordered another
beer and stayed there. But then a miracle occurred. The band took a break, the lights
came up and he could actually freakin’ see. The sardines from the dance floor took
their places at tables or at least disbanded enough that he could take quick glances
at who was in the club.

That was when he saw a brunette wearing a white dress flash by not more than ten feet
in front of him. He skirted his gaze in that direction. It was Ella, wearing some
skintight dress that looked as if it had been painted on her. She had her hair down,
loose waves curling over her shoulders. She wore red shoes—high heels—and matching
red lipstick. Not that he was noticing every fucking thing she had on or anything.

Goddamn, she looked sexy as hell. And she made his dick hard.

And worse than that, she wasn’t alone.

Shit.

Her first night, and Ella had already scored a major hot guy. Single, in Waikiki on
business, Shawn was from Los Angeles and came to the island four times a year as a
tech for his software company.

He was talkative, tall, well built and easy to look at with curly, sandy brown hair
and green eyes. He liked to surf and promised to teach her tomorrow.

After she’d left the pool this afternoon, she’d taken a nap, then showered and come
downstairs to the restaurant for dinner. That was where she’d run into Shawn, who’d
been seated next to her table. He saw her dining alone and came over, cocktail in
hand, asking if he could join her.

She couldn’t have planned it better than if she’d—well, if she’d planned it herself.
They’d had dinner together and hit it off right away. He kept the conversation going
since he seemed to like to talk about himself and his career—and okay, maybe he liked
to talk about those two topics an awful lot, but it was better than awkward silences.
And she didn’t mind listening. It gave her time to look at him, and he was nice to
look at. Plus, it gave her an opportunity to ponder all the what-ifs for tonight,
the possibilities of what might happen between them.

She could definitely have sex with Shawn. He was nice-looking, clean, professional,
had introduced her to a couple of his business associates who’d passed by their table,
which meant he was on the up-and-up about being here on business and really wasn’t
a lone serial killer. And he’d paid for dinner and invited her to the club across
from the condo. There, he’d bought her a few drinks. He even danced well.

So far, he’d passed the test. She was enjoying the club, having a great time getting
out on the dance floor. For the love of God, she was with a man for the first time
since…

James.

No. She wasn’t going to think about James tonight, wasn’t going to think about the
last time they’d gone out, the last time they’d had a moment together, the last time
he’d held her, kissed her, touched her—

Tonight was all about new beginnings.

“You went quiet on me, Ella.”

Shawn slid his fingers under her chin and focused her attention back on him.

“Oh. Sorry. Was just catching my breath. You do like to dance.”

The cocktail waitress brought them fresh drinks. “Okay, then. Quench your thirst so
you’re ready to go when the band starts up again.”

She took a couple deep swallows from the wine the waitress had placed in front of
her, then exhaled. The dress she’d bought was sinful—it was white and it hugged her
curves in all the right places. And the red stiletto heels were just the perfect added
touch.

“You are so beautiful.”

She smiled at Shawn. He’d said that about ten times in the past
hour. “Thanks. Again. You don’t have to keep saying it.” She stopped just short of
telling him that she was pretty much a sure thing and he could stop trying so hard.
Then again, what would she know? Maybe this was dating and how men acted. It wasn’t
as though she had a ton of experience. She’d had James, who’d fumbled around with
half-assed compliments when they were younger and she’d fallen madly in love with
him. There’d been no looking back after that.

And no one else since.

So maybe Shawn’s slick presentation was the norm. He was clearly the expert here and
she was the novice.

She finished her glass of wine just as the houselights went off.

“You ready to hit the dance floor again?”

She took a glance at the dance floor and palmed her stomach. Between the tight corset
and the three glasses of wine, not to mention the packed-in dance floor, she shook
her head. “Too crowded. I need some air.”

Shawn nodded and stood. “How about a walk outside to clear your head?”

“Perfect.” With great relief she took his hand and he led her down the stairs and
onto the outside deck. The night was warm, but there was a breeze, and she could breathe
infinitely better out here.

He walked her to a corner area out of sight from the doorway. Low-hanging palm trees
waved in the breeze. It was dark, private, very romantic.

He led her to the railing, where the sounds of the ocean crashed against the shore.
They were alone. Maybe she didn’t have butterflies fluttering in her stomach, but
she’d get there…eventually.

She leaned against the rail and turned to him. “This is nice.”

He moved in, slid his arm around her waist. “You are so beautiful.”

Okay, that line was starting to get old.

“Thanks. You look nice, too.”

“I want to kiss you.”

Then do it. Don’t tell me about it.

His face was inches from hers. He stared at her…and kept staring at her. Ella noticed
his eyes were a little glassy. They’d been at the club for a few hours now. How much
had Shawn had to drink? She’d had three glasses of wine, but she’d danced off the
effects and hadn’t paid much attention at all to the shots he’d been slamming. He’d
seemed okay. Plus, he was really tall. And she was used to hanging out with men who
could drink her under the table and still be stone-cold sober at the end of the night.
Surely he was okay.

“Can I kiss you?”

Oh, for God’s sake.
“Sure.”

After his tentative request, she expected light, an easy brush of his lips across
hers. He shocked the hell out of her by jerking her into his arms and jamming his
lips on hers. His tongue thrust inside, jabbing in and out, in and out. He tasted
like whiskey, and his hands roamed down her back to grab her ass. He drew her against
his cock, which was already hard.

She was
not
turned on. This was not pleasant. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t sexy. She palmed
his chest and pushed away, resisting the urge to wipe her lips with the back of her
hand. “Whoa, tiger. That was a little sudden.”

He looked perplexed. “You said yes.”

She blew out a breath. “Yes, I did, didn’t I.” She started to explain, but he grabbed
her again, kissed her, turned her around so her back was against the railing. He held
tight to her while he plundered her mouth. This time, when she tried to push him away,
he didn’t stop.

He didn’t stop.

She didn’t like this. She tried to wrench her mouth away but he lifted one hand to
the back of her head and held her there, made moaning noises and ground his cock against
her hip.

She felt sick, violated, wanted out of this. She wasn’t ready—not for this.

Couldn’t he tell she wanted to stop? She finally wedged her arm from his tight hold
and scratched his neck. He jerked back.

“Ow. What the hell was that for?”

“I was trying to get you to stop. Are you oblivious?”

“You wanted this. You want this.”

She shook her head, wrapped her arms around herself. “No. I don’t want this. I don’t
want you. You need to go.” How could this night have turned so bad?

“You started it. You agreed. You said yes.”

Oh, no. She might be inexperienced, but she wasn’t stupid. This guy was history. She
narrowed her gaze. “And then I said stop. I said no. What part of me desperately trying
to push you away did you not understand?”

“And when a lady says no, she means it, asshole.”

Ella’s gaze whipped to the sound of a very familiar male voice behind Shawn.

Clay?

Clay was here? What the hell was he doing here?

And he was pissed. His brows were knit in a furious frown as he advanced on Shawn
and fisted his hand into Shawn’s Hawaiian shirt.

“You look like a smart guy. Smart enough to read a woman’s signals. When she says
no, when her body language says no, you’d better be smart enough to start listening.”

Shawn was no short, lightweight guy, but he was dwarfed by Clay. He cast a decidedly
uncomfortable look up at Clay and nodded. “Yeah. I got it.”

Clay pushed him aside. “Take a hike.”

Shawn stumbled over himself in his eagerness to get the hell out of there.

Ella slid onto the nearest bench, stupefied.

Clay came over and squatted down in front of her. “You okay?”

She nodded. “I’m fine.”

He drew her hands in between his. “Your hands are shaking.”

“He scared the shit out of me.”

“He was a dick. Want me to go kick his ass?”

She laughed. Clay would do that, too. “No. I think you got your message across. He
probably peed himself.”

Clay’s lips lifted. “Good. He deserved it.”

“Clay, what are you doing here?”

“Fishing.”

She arched a brow. “Fishing?”

“Deep sea. There are a couple great excursions this time of year. And you know it’s
a good time of year in our business to take a few days off.”

She nodded. “True. I can’t believe we’re at the same place.” But then it hit her.
Of course. Clay had gifted the condo to Tish and her husband. “You mentioned at the
meeting the other day that you have a condo at the same place as Tish.”