[Invitation to Eden 20.0] The Island of Eden (7 page)

The second our hands touch, I feel something sizzle through me—an electric shock that nearly knocks me to the ground. I yank my hand back, the shock reverberating up my arm, and she nearly falls.

“Quite the welcome wagon, you are.” She eyes her own hand suspiciously before wiping it on her wet jeans.

I wonder if she felt something too.

I dismiss the thought almost immediately. I’m still off-kilter from my hopes, my meeting with Tessa Savage earlier. I’m reading into things that aren’t there.

“I’m sure we can find you some dry clothing, then you are gone.” I glower, and she stares at me. I don’t quite know what to do with the fact that here is no fear in those bright blue eyes of hers. “No one is allowed onto this island without an invitation. It’s private property.”

“You don’t really want me to tell people you turned your back on a poor, helpless woman in need of rescuing, do you?” She arches an eyebrow. I suspect she will make good on her word.

“Forgive me for being frank, but you really don’t look like a woman who needs to be rescued.” I don’t care if she tries to tell the Queen of England. I’ll bury it, like I bury everything else.

Didn’t bury everything though, did you? This insolent woman found you.

Miss Noelle Davis puts her hands on her hips, her expression mocking. Damn it, I wish she’d brush the hair away from the upper half of her face. It’s irritating speaking to only half of her face. “I don’t. But no one else knows that.”

Anger starts to churn inside like a storm on the sea. This is
exactly
why I don’t allow anyone that I haven’t thoroughly vetted onto the island—and never, ever reporters. They always look for an angle. An angle that makes a person look like the worst version of himself. They are never about the truth.

If they were, my ex and her lover would’ve been arrested for what they did to me.

No... they would have died.

I’ve had enough with this woman. I’m tired and I want to retreat to my estate and relax. Perhaps spend some time in my personal dungeon, practicing with my whip.

I do the one thing that I know will make her back down—I slowly, purposefully remove my mask and reveal my hideous face.

Her eyes scan my face. I know what she sees—the left cheek is smooth and golden, much the same as it was ten years ago.

The other side? It’s puckered, mottled, shades of red varying from pale pink to crimson. The skin on my forehead has formed ridges and valleys, as if it melted... which it mostly did.

My physical face—the horror of it isn’t all in my head. It’s hideous. I am barely recognizable as a man. So when I reveal it, I expect pretty little Miss Noelle Davis to flinch or step back, expect
something
, but she does nothing but glare back at me.

For some reason, this infuriates me even further. Snarling like the wild animal I often feel I am, I close the last remaining inch between us.

“You will get off my island, or I will have you arrested. You have not been invited. This is private property.”

“I will not be bullied, Mr. Vardalos.” The infuriating woman swipes at the hair in her face and tucks it behind her ear.  “You can’t scare me. I’m not some timid little girl playing a game.”

My ears ring, the sound deafening as her face comes into view. The white sizzle of my fury transforms into a different emotion, one that’s no less intense.

It can’t be.

It’s not possible.

It’s
her
.  This trespassing reporter is the woman from my vision. My knees nearly buckle as I look into her flawless face. Creamy skin, bright blue eyes. Then further down—a full body, clearly outlined since she’s soaking wet and her clothing is glued to her skin. Heavy breasts, full hips. Hips I once dug my fingers into, in a vision that shaped the rest of my life.

“See anything you like?” Her voice is sarcastic, but she doesn’t avert her gaze. It’s... astounding. I am staring down at her, my scars as plain as the nose on my face. She doesn’t look away.

My heart rises with hope before realization hits me, and my spirits crash down to the ground.

The island... this is the island working its magic. I’d put my rather large fortune against it, that my scars have disappeared. Yes, that must be it, because Miranda and Roan aren’t commenting, either.

I see no revulsion in her eyes, so she can’t be seeing me as I actually am. No revulsion, no pity, just defiance.

This little spitfire of a woman is challenging me.

There is little that makes me feel alive like a challenge, something so often lacking in my life on the island. I accept.

“You don’t like games, Ms. Davis?” I can feel my spine straightening, feel the role of Master coming to rest on my shoulders like a cloak.

“Not really.” I see her swallow. She is not as indifferent to me as I first thought—I am getting to her. In what way, I’m not sure yet... but I know she can’t see my scars.

“We’ll see.” I turn to Miranda and Roan. They aren’t reacting to my appearance in any way at all, so I think that likely they are seeing me with my hood still on, as well.

Out of all the miracles that the magic of the island has performed, it’s not so much of a thing. Still, I wish...

It doesn’t matter what I wish.

“Miranda, Roan. Escort Ms. Davis to Dani. Dani will take her to my estate.” Dani is the island’s tour guide. She knows the general area of the manor hidden by the island’s magic, but only Joely has ever been inside. I haven’t seen Joely yet today though, so it’s likely she’s off island.

Miranda’s eyes widen. “Not the castle, sir?”

I walk over to her and lean into her ear. “I want the woman close to me, so I can keep an eye on her.”

“Very well, Sir.” Miranda nods, but she’s still eyeing the woman with suspicion. I wouldn’t tolerate this if Ms. Davis was an invited guest, however, the fact that she forced herself onto Eden—dream woman or not—makes me find my employee’s protectiveness rather entertaining.

Miranda silently jerks her head for the woman to follow, and Roan joins his woman. Noelle licks her lips, as though she’s nervous, then nods to the couple. “Good.”

“I hope you are ready for a story, Ms. Davis.” I’m unnerved by the way she stares so openly at me, as though she’s...

Well, as though she sees something she likes. I’m sure it’s because she thinks I have a story for her, still it’s something I’m no longer accustomed to.

“I’m always ready.” One pale eyebrow arches, and her nerves appear to fade in the face of mischievousness.

Kitten. She reminds me of a kitten. One that I very much want to make purr.

I can feel my cock start to harden in my pants at the thought of all the ways I could do just that run through my mind. Silently, I pick up my shoes, and walk away, emotions high, lust out of control.

I can sense her watching me as I trek up the stone stairs and turn a corner. As soon as I know I am out of sight, I stop and lean up against the jutting rock face.

Closing my eyes, I curse the island.

“
This
is who you send me?” I slam my hand back against the stone. My knuckle slices open, blood welling between the parted skin. I don’t care. “My dream woman is a reporter who wants to ruin me?”

The ground beneath me vibrates in response. I growl, and it shakes enough to knock me against the stone.

Yes, I’m talking to the island. And yes, it’s talking back. Over the years, we’ve become entwined to the point that I’m no longer sure I could survive if I moved away. And right now, Eden is giving me a clear message. Yes, this is the woman. And yes, it knows what it’s doing.

I’m crushed that I so misread the vision that I had a decade ago. It’s just not possible that this woman is... who I wanted her to be. I’m attracted to her, of course. Only a blind man wouldn’t be. But beyond that...

A reporter. While clearly the island thinks she’s here to teach me something about myself, she’s not the woman for me.

I like my women soft, pliable.
Submissive
. Easy to leave when the time is done.

It’s not my most noble trait, but the dominance I command when I’m fucking a willing woman? It’s my way of taking back control. I have to do it.

A hardheaded, pushy,
nosy
reporter who
won’t
be controlled? No. Just no. I shake my head. Unbelievable. Some nosy woman whose business is to dig into mine. What am I supposed to keep her occupied with until I can get her off the island, or until the island finishes its game?

For the first time in memory, I’m at a loss. But I am nothing if not good at keeping my secrets. This relaxes me a bit, and, rolling my shoulders, I slip on my shoes.

“Good luck to you, Ms. Davis. But I am Master here.”

I step back onto the path and walk, sloshing in my shoes with each step, back to the castle to finish my rounds for the day.  I refuse to be distracted by this woman who has washed up on my shore, nor by the crushing disappointment that comes with the knowledge that she is not who I expected or wanted her to be.

I have my island. My sanctuary. And it looks like that will have to be enough.

NOELLE

T
his island is
unreal.

Right now I’m standing just below a stone manor perched on a cliff with a breathtaking view of a genuine, ancient Irish castle. Like... from Europe. But on a tropical island. The wild contrast delights me.

I follow my guide into... wow. There’s not much that takes me by surprise in life, but this... holy shit.

My parents are wealthy, and I grew up in a mansion. But compared to the luxury of just this greenhouse, which seems to be constructed of nothing but glass and is full of lush blooms?

Next to it, the mansion of my childhood could have come straight from Ikea. I’m... awed. Something I never, ever am.

Dani, however... Dani is a going to be a tough nut to crack. At first glance, she’s casual, easy going. Very girl next door, if you ignore the shadows in her eyes.

But I’ve been with her for half an hour now, and I’m quite certain that she never smiles. Like, ever. I’m not sure she’s capable of it.

Or else she really, really doesn’t like me. I suppose that’s a possibility. I like the other option better.

Still, as I follow her around, I do my best to engage her in conversation. I’m puzzled that I’m striking out, to be honest. The real me? I’m as abrasive as they come. But when I want something? I can be whoever I need to be.

“How long have you been working here?” Peeling my wet jacket over my head, I aim for casual. Something that won’t have this overprotective girl from knifing me in my sleep.

“Nope.” She looks away, and I get it. She, and probably all of the other employees, are fiercely protective of their employer. That, or she has the hots for him, which I wouldn’t be able to blame her for.

In pictures, the man was hot.

In person?

Daaaamn.

“Do you like it?” I peer out one of the greenhouse windows.

Finally a smile—a sarcastic one. “Obviously.”

I’ll take your sarcasm, be-yotch
. Take it and up it. “What do you like about it?”

Dani shoots me a look that says
really
? before silently gesturing to the ocean view out the window. I hadn’t expected to be impressed yet again, because I’ve been to every tropical locale that there is, but... wow.

It’s stunning. Stunning enough that my way with words has flown the coop. And I like how it smells. Of sea and sand and sun.

Though I suppose that could just be me, drenched as I still am with what feels like half of the ocean.

I still can’t believe I survived. I thought for sure I was a goner when that last tsunami-sized wave came for me. I’d been foolish letting go like that. In retrospect, it was terrifying. Despite me making it in one virtually unscathed piece, I shouldn’t have. It was a miracle. Not that I believe in that stuff.

“What’s Mr. Vardalos like to work for?” I’m more than curious about the man who runs this place.

Dani narrows her eyes. “He’s a beast. A tyrant. Worst human alive. In fact, you should probably run while you can.”

“A-ha-ha.” Despite my usual alligator thick skin, though, I’m a little bit stung by her insistent and obvious dislike of me.

Not so much because I care what she thinks of me. More because... for reasons I don’t quite understand, I’m jealous of the fact that she—that all of the employees here—know him in a way that I likely never will.

And that’s stupid. Not only should I not be calling him
Master
in my head, because that’s ridiculous, but I have absolutely no reason to be jealous. No matter how tight of an ass he has.

Dani leads me outside again. She stops on the fifth stone stair leading up a cliff. There’s a little stone gazebo area with a bench. “Wait here. Do
not
move. Do not touch things that do not belong to you. Understand?”

“Is everyone who works here as sweet as you?” I bat my eyelashes at her. She regards me stonily before turning and going back down the stairs, probably back to the castle. Or maybe to soak her head. I don’t really care.

I remain standing just long enough to satisfy myself that I’ve flaunted her order, then sit on the bench, even though I am restless enough to keep pacing around. I don’t want him to find me agitated—I want him to think that I am one cool customer.  That he hasn’t gotten under my skin.

That I don’t find him strangely alluring.

I cross then uncross my legs. I lean back, then come forward and settle my elbows on my knees. Except I don’t like how that makes my belly bulge just a bit too much. Damn cool ranch Doritos.

So I sit up straight, and force my shoulders back. Yes. This makes my boobs look perkier than they are. I run a hand through my hair, forgetting that it is still a wet tangled mess.

“Oh for fuck’s sake.” Growling to myself, I slump back, giving up. It doesn’t matter what I look like. The man had me brought here so that he could keep an eye on me while he waits for me to be escorted off the island. There’s nothing between us, not that I want there to be. Not really.