Lie to Me

Lie to Me

Book four of the Pearl Island series

by Julie Ortolon

Copyright 2014 Julie Ortolon

Cover Photo Copyright 2014 Julie Ortolon

Cover Design Copyright 2014 CreateSpace

All right reserved. No part of this may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental. All rights reserved. No part of this publication can be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, without permission in writing from Julie Ortolon.
 

A Note from the Author

As a native Texan, I had a blast creating Pearl Island, an imaginary island just off the coast of Galveston Island, Texas. From the wonderful emails I receive from many of you, I see the world and characters captured your hearts as well. So I’ve created a website just for fans of this series,
PearlIslandBooks.com
. While there, you can access the
Members Only
area for a peek behind the scenes on my experience writing the series.

I also have a Members Only area on my personal website,
JulieOrtolon.com
, where you can
download FREE bonus chapters
for the first three books in the series. The bonus chapters take place a few years after the original stories and let you see how things turned out for each couple.

To learn more about me, and my other books, visit my website at
JulieOrtolon.com
. Be sure and sign up for
my newsletter
or send me an email at
JulieOrtolon.com/contact
. I love to hear from readers, and always answer personally.

I hope you enjoy your journey to Pearl Island!

Julie Ortolon

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Chapter 1

Destiny was a real bitch, Luc decided as he drove his black vintage Porsche into the oyster-shell parking lot of the Pearl Island Inn. When his grandmother told him years ago that Chloe Davis’s future and his were entwined, he’d thought she meant romantically. He’d naturally scoffed at the idea, even though he’d never doubted her abilities as a fortuneteller in other matters.
 

He should have explained the improbability to her.
 

“Yeah, right,” he muttered to himself, something he’d been doing a little too much during the long drive from New Orleans. Like he would have told his grandmother, who had always thought he was perfect, that he was actually the school dork while Chloe had run with the popular crowd. The idea of “entwining” with Chloe had never done more than fuel some predictable adolescent fantasies.
 

Now, he was about to come face to face with the adult version of the girl he’d had sex with in his head more times than he could count.

“I can’t believe I have to do this,” he groaned, knowing he had to meet with her without allowing any of that to show on his face. Or affect his body.

Good luck with that, dude
. He’d been struggling to scrub the images from his brain throughout the drive. Unfortunately, they kept coming at him in flashes, with vivid detail. Alternating with equally unwelcome memories of what his life had been like before he’d become a successful computer gaming entrepreneur.

He needed to stop thinking about all of it. He’d left the whole social nightmare of school behind more than a decade ago. In its place, he’d built a world where he belonged. No, he more than belonged. He thrived. That’s where he wanted to be right then; back in New Orleans, working on the newest version of Vortal, the alternate universe game that was his life’s work and his greatest escape.
 

Instead, here he was in Galveston, on a mission that would certainly have him entwining with Chloe Davis, not romantically but legally, over custody of the very object that lay at the heart of his grandmother’s prediction and the world he’d created for himself.

Which proved Destiny wasn’t just a bitch; she had a twisted sense of humor.

Finding a parking place, he climbed from the sports car and slammed the door, eager to put the ordeal behind him. Mid-day sun glared into his eyes, but a coastal breeze took the edge off the heat. It would be a perfect spring day if his gut weren’t churning like a storm in the Gulf. Tipping his head back, he took in the granite mansion that now served as a bed and breakfast. The inn’s website certainly hadn’t exaggerated its grandeur. The place looked like something straight out of a gothic novel, complete with a spire-topped turret. Gargoyles snarled down at him from the edges of the multi-pitched roof.

“Gargoyles?” he said, his interest piqued. “Cool.”

Under different circumstances, the whole place would have thrilled him. As the creator of Vortal, what could be more up his alley than stone beasts on a gothic mansion that had once welcomed pirates? Throw in the rumors of ghosts he’d read about, and oh yeah, he’d be all over this. Normally.
 

Lowering his gaze to the windows on the ground floor, he wondered if Chloe was inside. A shaft of dread shot through him, and he realized with disgust that it didn’t just come from facing a woman he’d fantasized about. It came from facing a woman who knew what a dork he’d once been.
 

You aren’t that kid anymore
, he reminded himself. He’d systematically obliterated all external traces of geek.
 

Could this dread be the real reason he’d resisted making this trip? Since that shocking instant when he learned that Chloe, of all the people on the planet, had found his grandmother’s necklace, he’d tried to figure out a way to claim the piece without dealing directly with her.

Unfortunately, the circumstances surrounding her finding the necklace made the case so complicated, he saw no choice. She’d found it lying on the beach, so everyone believed it was a relic from a nineteenth-century shipwreck in the island’s cove, which meant it should belong to the state. However, beaches created a gray area in the law, so a judge had directed the Texas Historical Commission to award Chloe ownership on the condition that she agree to put the valuable necklace on permanent display in a museum.
 

For him to prove the necklace actually belonged to his grandmother meant fighting the state of Texas and the Historical Commission. The lawyer he’d hired insisted Chloe’s cooperation could make the process easier. Which meant talking to her in person.

Resigned, he thrust on a pair of sunglasses, then made sure he’d only half-tucked his polo shirt into his jeans, as depicted in the Style App on his phone. He’d developed the app a few years back to keep up with current trends and auto-order his clothes online. Much to his annoyance, he’d discovered that looking cool meant a guy had to update his wardrobe more often than his operating system.
 

On the up side, he clearly wasn’t the only single guy who needed help figuring out what to buy and how to wear it, since he’d earned a nice chunk of change off the Style App. Satisfied with his clothes, he raked his hands through his blond hair and realized he’d forgotten to have it cut. Again. As in the last six months.
 

“Dang it!” He should have taken care of that before leaving New Orleans.
 

Maybe he needed an app for that, too.

Well, too late to worry about it now, he decided as he looked for the entrance to the house. According to his research Chloe managed the gift shop, so she was probably inside. He spotted a path that led to the cove side of the house and decided that must lead to the main entrance. Originally, visitors to the island would have arrived by ship. Following the path around the turret, he found a few guests sitting in wicker chairs on a large veranda, enjoying a panoramic view of the island’s private cove.
 

Lush green lawn sloped down a long hill to the beach, where seagulls shrieked over the heads of three young boys splashing in the waves. A girl with long blond ringlets helped a dark-haired toddler build a sandcastle. A few yards away from the girls, a lone woman lay on a colorful beach towel with a magazine draped over her face—a woman with a seriously hot body wearing a dark pink bikini, he noted over the top of his shades.
 

“Wow,” he whispered as interest stirred. Then he reminded himself he had more important things to do than admire the view.
 

With a resigned sigh, he turned and placed his foot on the first step to the veranda, but stopped when a sense of awareness rippled down his spine. He hadn’t felt that particular buzz beneath his skin in years, but he recognized it instantly.
Chloe
. How could he have forgotten the way his body reacted when she was near?
 

They’d both attended the same private school, since everyone who lived in the inner city of New Orleans sent their kids to private school unless they absolutely couldn’t afford it. During his last years in the upper grades, he’d fantasized about her so often he’d developed a Pavlovian reaction to seeing her in the hall. Instant, embarrassing erection. After a while, he didn’t even have to see her. He’d get a tickle in the back of his neck and know she was there before he even turned. Feeling that now, he focused his senses, trying to locate the source of the hum. Was it coming from behind him?

He turned back toward the beach. Toward the woman on the towel.

No. That lean, leggy goddess couldn’t possibly be the tomboy he remembered, could it? He’d certainly glimpsed the potential for beauty, and even spent hours sketching the body he imagined he’d find underneath the ball caps and baggy clothes, but this woman surpassed his wildest imaginings. She didn’t have the exaggerated body of the gaming character he’d drawn, but her naturally proportioned curves could fuel a whole new era of fantasies. A man’s fantasies rather than those of an inexperienced boy.

His body tightened at the thought, letting him know there was no way in hell he’d get through talking to her without that hardwired response kicking in. He waited for the dread to wash back over him. Instead, he felt... intrigued. What would Chloe think of him now? After all, his clothes weren’t the only thing that had changed. Hours in the gym to counter all the hours he spent at his computer had transformed his body as well.

How sweet would life be if Chloe saw him now and her eyes sparked with admiration? Even lust? Okay, that was probably stretching things, but to have her look at him and see something other than a nerd? Yeah, that would be sweet. He probably had a one in five thousand, three hundred and fifty-six chance of succeeding without suffering renewed humiliation, but as Blade, his alter ego in the gaming world, would say, “No glory for the gutless.”

Embracing his inner Blade, he struck off down the trail lined in azaleas and crepe myrtle to the cove. When he reached the beach, the two girls looked up from their sandy architectural endeavors.

“Hello,” the older girl said with a bright smile. Thirteen at most, she already had a face destined to break hearts, combined with long, golden curls worthy of an angel.

“We’re building a princess castle,” the dark-haired toddler announced. Her big eyes and sun-kissed cheeks matched the blue and pink polka dots on her swimsuit.
 

“I see that.” He nodded.

“It’s beautemous!” The little cutie flung her arms open wide.

“Absolutely,” he agreed, moving past them toward his goal, the goddess on the beach towel.

She lay on her back, allowing the sun to wash over a wealth of bare skin. While the magazine hid her face, he gave the toned body the admiration it deserved, from the shapely legs to the taut stomach, to breasts the perfect size to fill a man’s hands. The tropical scent of suntan lotion teased his nostrils, making him long to slick her down with a fresh coating.

“Excuse me,” came a lazy female voice from under the magazine, a copy of
Popular Photography
, he noticed with mild interest, “but you’re blocking my sun.”

The adult timbre didn’t match the voice he remembered. This voice belonged to a woman, not a teenaged girl.