[Invitation to Eden 20.0] The Island of Eden (10 page)

“Yup.” Gone is the flirtatiousness. My inner lie detector tells me that Chad is saying what he truly thinks.

I take another sip of my drink. “How so?”

“You know no one pays to come here, right?”

What?

“What do you mean?” I frown over the rim of my glass. “Of course people pay to come here.”

He gestures to all the people in the pool area. “Everyone that’s here has been invited. Invited for a specific reason. And none of them pay a dime.”

I must be giving him a
look
because he leans on the bar toward me.

“You can’t go online or call a travel agent to book a vacation at the Eden resort. This isn’t Sandals, baby.”

“So how do all these people come here?” Okay, this is good. This is confirmation of what I’ve heard.

“By invitation only.” He rolls his eyes like I didn’t hear him say it the first time.

“Who invites them?”

“Who do you think?”

I lean in even closer to him.  “Theo... I mean, Mr. Vardalos?”

Chad rolls his eyes again. If he keeps doing that, he’s going to make his brain explode. “No, girl, the island does. Everyone who comes here, comes for a reason. They need the island.”

Hookay.
Seems that Chad the cute bartender is a little bit crazy. I drain the rest of my drink and slide off the stool. My knees wobble a little—no, no fourth martini for me, no matter how much I can usually hold my booze—but I manage to stand and stare indignantly at Chad.  “You know, I sat here listening to you because you’re all cute and charming, but I really don’t appreciate you blowing smoke up my ass. It’s not funny.”

He holds his hand up in protest. “Hand to God, I have never blown smoke or anything else up any girl’s ass in my life.  I’m just not that kind of guy.”

Grrr.

“You’re an asshole.” I turn to stumble away but he grabs my arm before I can.

“Why are you here, Noelle?”

“To get a story.”

“Why are you really here?”

I sigh. “To piss off my father.”

“And?”

“And...if you’re going to say find love, I’m going to punch you really hard in the virtual vagina.”

“Maybe not love, oh cynical one, but you are here to find something, that’s for sure. Something you haven’t found out there.”

“So what? You’re Oprah of the Island, now? Divine Secrets of the Yaya Eden? Should we hold hands and sing Kumbaya?”

He sighs at my theatrics. I must be nailing them, to make a gay man sigh in exasperation like that. “How did you get onto the island, sweet lips?”

“By boat, Mr. New Age Pants.” I give him a big cheeky grin. Then it fades little by little as I remember that I never even got near the island by boat. I should not have gotten onto the island at all. Technically I should be dead.

Why have I not realized this before?

Oh shit.
I look around and I can feel the blood rushing from my head. “I’m Lost, aren’t I? This is mother fucking Lost isn’t it? Shit. I hate that fucking show.”

Chad comes around the counter and pulls me into his arms.

“No sweetie, you’re not dead.” He pats my back. “You’re okay.”

I’ve obviously had too much to drink, because tears well up in my eyes. The last time I cried was three years ago at my mom’s funeral. Feeling foolish, I angrily wipe at my eyes.

“Oh my God, what’s
wrong
with me?” I sniffle, then hiccup.

“Nothing’s wrong with you, Noelle, you’re just a little tipsy.” He rubs my back and hugs me tighter.  I feel like if these were different circumstances, that Chad and I would become BFFs and he and his husband, Raphael, would invite me over to their sweet bungalow for elegant yet kitschy dinner parties.

In another world, Davis.

He hugs me one more time then pulls back. He gives me one of those sympathy smiles that gay men are so damn good at, then pinches my cheek. “C’mon champ, don’t you have a dinner to get to?”

I startle. “Oh shit, you’re right. What time is it?”

“A quarter to seven.”

“Double shit, I don’t have time to fix my face.”

“You look fine, sweetie. It doesn’t look like you’ve been crying at all.”

I grab a napkin from the bar and dab at my eyes. Thankfully I don’t have any makeup to smear—it all came off when I did a nosedive into the ocean.

I pinch at my cheeks to give them some color, then smooth my hair down.

“How do I look?”

He gives me a once over. “Good.  Ready.”

I frown. “Ready for what?”

“To eat. Duh.” He smiles innocently at me. “What did you think I meant?”

“Right.”  Except I don’t believe him. There is some underlying meaning there. There’s an underlying meaning to
everything
on this bloody island. I just have no time to sit here and suss it out. I have a man to interrogate.

I smooth down my dress and try hard to walk in a straight line back to the lobby, where I find Jenna, who leads me to the west side of the castle. The restaurant is nestled outside in the palms, with torches arranged in a circle to give off light and heat

It’s very... romantic.
Very.

There are very few tables, I count maybe ten, and they are all occupied by intimate couples, except for one. The one the hostess shows me to.

“Would you like a drink while you wait?”

I shake my head. “No, water will be fine for me right now.” I pick up the full water glass and chug half of it down. When she leaves, I finish it off. A server comes by and refills it, and I finish that one off too.

Seven o’clock comes. Then it goes. No sign of Theo.

The server comes by again.  “Would you like something to eat while you wait, Ms. Davis?”

It is now seven fifteen.

I wave him away and drink more water.

He returns at seven thirty with a basket of freshly baked sourdough bread. He sets it down on the table, and then scurries away.  Probably because I give him the death stare as I tear into a piece.

At seven forty-five, I’m done. I stand and toss my napkin onto the empty chair, and I cling to anger to cover my strange dejection.

The server jumps out of my way as I storm past him. The hostess doesn’t even get the chance to stop me before I am through the lobby, out the door and across the island, panting as I run up the stone staircase to the man’s estate.

I reach the front door and key in the code on the keypad.  I’m observant, and I surreptitiously memorized the code earlier when he brought me here. The door automatically opens and I walk in. I don’t know if he’s here. For all I know, he could be stuck in a meeting or he’s fallen off a cliff.

I really don’t have a right to be so angry. Or so upset. The fact remains that I am. My throat is swollen, and I think that I might cry again.

I won’t. I won’t spill a tear over any man. I came here to do a job, and none of the obstacles that he sets in my way are going to keep me from doing it.

I search the house methodically, room by room, and find no trace of the man. Well, good. If he’s not here, then there’s no one to stop me from doing some researching in that shiny computer in his office.

I turn to head back to that room, and as I do something catches my eye.

The door to the room that had been locked earlier, the one that I had joked was his red room of pain?

It’s ajar.

I know I should refrain, but I’m naturally curious, so I push it open. Plus... a man as meticulous as Theo? Knowing I was interested?

Even if this was a subconscious slip on his part, I’m certain that I’m meant to go to. Past the door is a set of stairs going down. Light spills up from below, and I suck in a deep breath.

I can’t back off now; the situation is way too interesting. Who knows what I might learn?

I take in a deep breath and follow the steps downward.

When I reach the bottom I see a long leather sofa sitting in front of what I first think is a big screen TV. On further inspection, I realize it isn’t a TV but a blackened window. I have no idea why anyone would have a window that you can’t see through. There is a control panel next to the window, though, and I press the largest button on it.

First the lights in the room dim, and then they brighten again. I find another dial and slowly turn it. This time the window brightens. It’s no longer black but transparent, a crystal clear pane of glass.

What I see through the window that makes me gasp.

I’ve found Theo.

He’s shirtless. His back is slick with sweat.  He’s wearing the hood. And he’s not alone in this room.

No, he’s there with a petite brunette woman. She’s bent over and strapped to some kind of pummel horse, and she’s naked, and I can see the delicate folds of her sex because her legs are splayed wide. His back is to me, so he doesn’t see me put my hand to my mouth when he lifts his arm and brings it forward, whipping the woman across her ass with a cat o’nine tails.

What?
I did my research.

I hear the slap of the leather on her flesh and I see her flinch at the impact. But I also hear her moan of pleasure.

She is thoroughly enjoying her punishment.

Theo lifts his arm again to administer another punishing blow, but something stays his hand and he turns. Maybe it’s the little sparks that I can feel dancing along my skin, or the long needy moan that I can’t quite contain.

Our gazes meet through the glass. I see the surprise, then the regret in his eyes. And the need.

He opens his mouth as if to speak.

I’m out of there before he can say anything to me. I run up the stairs, flinging the door open, and out of the house as fast as I can go on the rocks. I don’t know where the hell I’m going, but all I know is that I need some air.

Because however shocked I was to see that, I am even more shocked to realize how much I wished it had been me strapped to that horse.

THEO

S
hit, shit, shit.

“Master?”  Lexi’s voice brings me back to the moment.

I turn back toward her, but lower the flogger. Lexi’s head is turned toward me, but her blindfold prevents her from seeing what is going on. Noelle’s appearance has ruined the zone for me... not that I was really in it. Not when it’s a tiny brunette in front of me, when the woman I really want is soft, lush, with long ribbons of golden hair.

“I’m sorry, pet. We’re finished for the night.” I return the cat o’ nine tails back to the rack with my other instruments of pleasure. This is the only time they’ve ever touched human flesh... this room is for my fantasies, and for me to practice.

And for me to use when the woman of my dreams arrived. Except that now she’s here, and it’s this, even more than the scars on my face, that makes her think I’m a monster.

I quickly untie Lexi from the horse. Her body still vibrates with pent up release—I’ve barely kissed her with the flogger, but she’s always gone over so easily. I understand her frustration—I’ve been on the edge all day. But... I just can’t.

It wouldn’t be fair to either woman, to take one while the other is so firmly entrenched in my mind.

Gently, I help her stand, and slide her silk robe onto her body and tie it for her. She silently leans into me and I smooth a hand down her hair.

She’s a lovely woman, but we’re not meant for each other. I should never have brought her to the island.

I lead her out of my dungeon, past the viewing area and back up the stairs. I take her to one of the guest bedrooms, and am not surprised to find it done up for a sensual woman, with red silk sheets and the scent of vanilla.

Taking off her blindfold, I urge her to sit on the bed.

“I will run you a bath.” I have a responsibility to see to some aftercare for her, but my entire being is vibrating with the need to go after Noelle.

“Thank you, Master.” She smiles at me and I feel guilty about caring for her while thinking about Noelle. I want it to be Noelle on this bed; I want her gaze on me as I move into the bathroom to turn on the hot water on the soaker tub.

While the tub fills, I walk around the room and light the candles that have appeared. I fill a glass with red wine from a bottle that’s breathing on a table.

She takes a sip, then looks up at me with a serious expression. “I want you to explain to me what happened. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no of course not.” I stroke a hand over her head. “You are perfect.”

And she is. But that’s not what I want.

I can feel her eyes on me as I check the water, make sure it’s exactly right. Although I want to run out of the house after Noelle, I can’t leave Lexi unattended to. If I did, I wouldn’t be the man that I am. This is part of the ritual. She is my submissive, at least for the night, and she trusts me and I can’t break that trust. I
won’t
break it.

“Your bath is ready.”

She slides off the bed, her brow still furrowed. I owe her an answer, but... well, in truth, I don’t know exactly what to say.

“I’ve added some scented oils. After your bath, climb into bed and sleep. I will have you flown back home in the morning.”

I can see the confusion on her face, and wish I could alleviate it, but I feel so much of my own that I don’t have any answers.

Leaving the room, I close the door, leaning against it for a moment to gather myself. I have to find Noelle and explain this to her before she goes running scared off the island.

Before she steals another damn boat.

I can’t have her thinking the worst of me, especially since she’s a reporter. And the latter pains me. I don’t want to think of her that way.

But I have a responsibility to the employees and guests of this island. The last thing I need in the news is my predilection for dominance and control. I can’t have my alternative tastes taint the importance of Eden, of what we do here. Nor do I care to make my beastly appearance fodder for gossip.

After I change into more suitable attire, and put my balaclava back on, I go down to the main castle, finding Jenna in the lobby. She looks just as flustered as I am.

“Sir,” she says as she comes up to me, “I think we have a problem.”

“What is it?”

“Noelle Davis. I’m told she had maybe a bit too much to drink, then quite possibly went storming up to your house.”