She’d lived all of her life beneath the thumb of that kind of man—men. And while her father and brothers loved her, it hadn’t been easy. The experience had taken a toll on all of them, and she had no desire to set herself up for a relationship that would drain her the same way.
Not that Officer Edwards was offering her anything other than a vacation fling. She was jumping way ahead of the situation. But the problem was that she knew herself well enough to recognize the signs. Bad signs.
In a few short days, he’d worked his way under her skin, like a splinter. She didn’t want to, but she cared about him. Bad, bad idea. They were wrong for each other. She was here only for a little while and he distrusted her every move.
Yeah, not a great foundation for anything.
Not that they
had
anything.
Zane’s hands wandered down her body, a welcome distraction from the thoughts racing around her brain. He molded her against him, arching her spine. His mouth found the now-speeding pulse at the curve of her neck and sucked, making it leap higher. Heavy heat pooled in the center of her belly.
And suddenly her concerns didn’t seem so important. Besides, this was a fling. In a few days, she’d be gone—hopefully with her grandmother’s painting—and Zane and his guilt-inducing demons would be left behind on this tropical paradise. Nothing but a pleasant memory....
What harm was there in taking a few more helpings of what she’d already had? The milk had already been spilt, after all. Might as well enjoy the milkshake—with whipped topping and sprinkles—while she had it. She could worry about the consequences later.
Besides, her body responded to him, whether her brain wanted her to or not. She wasn’t about to start something again that neither of them had the supplies to finish, however. The next time they got down and dirty, she wanted the whole damn deal. She wanted to feel him inside her, long, hot and hard. Nothing else would fulfill the need already building within her.
“Oh, no, you don’t.” As difficult as it was, Elle wedge a hand between them and pushed him away. “Unless you know how to fashion a condom out of palm fronds—and if you do, I’m going to kill you for not doing it sooner—we’re going to hit Pause until we get back to the resort.”
His lips frowned at her but his eyes smoldered, heavy with promise and passion.
“I do need to get back,” he grumbled. “I’m cooling off first, though. Wanna join me?”
The corners of his mouth twitched. If she hadn’t been looking at it longingly, she probably would have missed the microscopic tell. And wouldn’t have paired it with the twinkle of mischief that had entered those heavy-lidded eyes.
“No way, mister.” She took two steps away. If she got in that water with him, it would be another hour before they went anywhere.
“Suit yourself.” Not looking back, he waded out into the softly churning water.
Elle watched for several seconds as he skimmed beneath the surface, toward the waterfall. He broke free directly beside it and stepped into the tumbling sheet of water, letting it wash over his body. His eyes were closed, his head thrown back—it was the first time she’d seen him without the usual intensity slightly pinching his face.
He looked relaxed. Blissful.
Without thought, Elle sank onto the sand, reached for her canvas and began painting.
It took her barely any time at all to add Zane to the picture. His features were blurry, making it look as if you were viewing him through the curtain of water. No one would be able to tell that the man in the picture was Zane.
But she’d know.
Looking down at it, tightness began to gather in the center of her chest.
He was what had been missing.
9
ZANE WATCHED ELLE WALK away. The farther she got, the more anxious he felt.
The woman was a ticking time bomb. She was impulsive and reckless. Trouble followed her wherever she went.
But that wasn’t the only reason his skin suddenly seemed too tight for his body.
He was fighting dueling urges—to haul her back to him and to run as fast and hard as he could in the opposite direction.
He didn’t know which one to follow.
Oh, he knew which one was intelligent. Elle Monroe was trouble. He didn’t trust her…unless he could see her, at least. But therein lay the problem. She was like the sun. The closer he got, the stronger the pull of her orbit became.
He didn’t want to get sucked in. Couldn’t afford to get sucked in, to care. But he also couldn’t seem to rid himself of this crazy urge to protect her—from everyone and everything, but mostly from herself.
And sleeping with her hadn’t made it any easier. In fact, it had only made the problem worse. It was like giving a starving man bread and then throwing him back into the desert before he could finish the loaf. He hadn’t realized what he’d been missing until it was dangled in front of his face.
To ask him to turn away from Elle now that he’d had a taste…that was just torture.
If he was smart, he’d avoid her for the rest of her vacation. He wouldn’t compound one mistake with another.
But then, he’d never claimed to be smart. Arousal still buzzed through his system, skimming just beneath the surface. Despite the fact that they’d both climaxed, neither one of them had been fulfilled.
He knew it wasn’t a good idea, but he wanted more. For the first time in a very long time, he realized he was going to step over the line into the gray areas. Before Felicity’s death, those gray areas had been his familiar hunting grounds. He’d been more than willing to bend the rules, manipulate them to get the result he wanted—bad guys off the streets. Her death had changed everything.
But apparently he hadn’t changed enough.
Two days ago, he would have bet his entire salary that Elle Monroe was a thief just waiting for the perfect opportunity to rob them blind.
Part of him didn’t want to believe what his brain was telling him. He’d seen her with his own eyes, breaking and entering. But she hadn’t actually stolen anything. At least, not that night.
He knew for a fact that she was currently in possession of his key card, but so far, she hadn’t gone anywhere with it.
She didn’t have a record. Not one that mattered. Was that because she wasn’t a criminal or because she just hadn’t gotten caught? That, he had a hard time believing… He’d caught her twice and he was rusty as hell.
Something didn’t add up. Whatever was going on, he couldn’t trust her.
But somehow, his dick wasn’t getting the memo.
Zane stepped into the air-conditioned lobby of the main building, sighing in relief from the tropical heat. His forward momentum stopped dead though when his boss’s slow Southern drawl melted across the lobby. “There you are. Everyone’s been looking for you. For hours… Apparently, you were stupid enough to storm into the jungle alone and not answer your cell phone when Marcy called repeatedly.”
Shit. Simon might be lounging against the front desk, his back pressed into the wood and his arms draped over the top, but the relaxed pose was a complete lie. The hard glitter in his eyes showed his true feelings.
“I told Tom where I was going.”
“Yes, but apparently when you didn’t return immediately with the troublemaking redhead in tow, he got concerned that she’d murdered you and was burying the body.”
“Elle is a lot of things, but murderer isn’t one of them.”
Simon’s gold-blond eyebrow arched, “Well, isn’t that an about-face from two days ago, when you thought she could possibly be the devil incarnate.”
Zane scrunched his forehead into a frown. “I don’t think I ever said that.”
“Not in so many words, but the handcuffs said it for you.”
Zane kept his mouth shut. There was nothing he could say. At least, nothing that might help. Simon might appear to be a lazy playboy, but behind that easygoing facade was a brain that worked at lightning speed.
“Why don’t we go upstairs and talk?”
That was the last thing Zane wanted right now. “I need to relieve Tom. Besides, I’d hate to interrupt your work.”
“Oh, don’t worry, you’ve already done that. And Tom is fine. Don’t think I don’t know he owes you for that little fling of his a couple of weeks ago.”
Damn, the man was observant. Simon noticed everything. Even Zane often forgot just how deep those skills went.
“Fine. Lead the way.”
The men traveled through the resort, to the back elevators. Simon’s quarters could be reached only through the private employee sections. In fact, the main elevators didn’t even have a button for the fifth floor. Most of the guests didn’t realize it existed.
They rode up in a charged silence. Whatever their “meeting” was about, Zane knew he wasn’t going to like it.
As they entered into his private domain, Simon didn’t even stop at the living area out front. It was usually where Simon held his conversations with employees. Despite the fact that they were friends, Zane had seen the back rooms only a handful of times. Simon just preferred to keep them off-limits. Which was how Zane knew he’d really stepped in it this time. Simon strode straight on through to the office at the back. And closed the door behind them.
The view out the windows was amazing. Bright blue sky stretching into clear turquoise water. Golden sand, lush green trees. He could just glimpse the pool complex, but the angle of the windows and the landscaping blocked most of the activity. From Simon’s office, he could almost believe the island was deserted except for the two of them.
He was certain it was one reason Simon spent so much time up here. Well, that and he was busy.
Simon plopped into a huge black executive chair. The mechanism squeaked gently as he leaned back into the worn leather.
There wasn’t another chair opposite the desk as most executives had. Again, Zane knew this was no oversight but a deliberate attempt to convince whomever did manage to get inside the sanctuary to keep their visit as short and painless as possible. He guessed it was most often Marcy. And he had no doubt she ignored Simon’s blatant rudeness.
Zane also chose to ignore Simon’s psychological warfare and plopped down onto the corner of an overstuffed sofa that sat along the far wall.
Almost before Zane’s butt had connected with the cushions, Simon waded straight in. “I’m worried about you.”
Zane took a moment to settle his body, using the delay to gather his thoughts. “Why?”
“Don’t play innocent with me. I’ve known you for too long. Tom told me about your little episodes with the redhead. And then you disappear into the jungle with her for hours at a time.”
“That’s a complete misrepresentation of what happened.”
Simon waved away Zane’s protest. “Semantics. We both know nothing innocent happened in that jungle. First, you were gone too long. Second, your clothes are all rumpled and slightly damp.”
“It’s hot out there, man.”
Simon leveled a laser stare at him, daring him to continue pushing the story they both knew was a lie.
This was where working for your friend got a little screwy. Up to this point, he and Simon hadn’t had a problem at all. Sometimes, it didn’t pay for your employer to know you too well.
“Look, since when do you have a problem with guest fraternization?”
“Since I’m worried it might interfere with your ability to do your job.”
Now, that pissed him off. Never mind that he was just lecturing himself about the same issue. It was one thing for Zane to remind himself of his priorities. It was entirely another for Simon to question them.
“Fuck you. I’ve busted my ass for you over the past eighteen months. I’ve given you no reason to question my ability and commitment.”
“I don’t question your ability. Or commitment. I question whether you can evaluate this woman objectively anymore. I know you. And I know what happens on my island. You haven’t slept with a woman since you got here and I’m guessing since Felicity died. If you didn’t screw the redhead in the jungle, you’ll probably do it the next time you see her.”
Zane opened his mouth to protest, but closed it again because he couldn’t.
“I’ve seen the tapes, Zane. You practically devoured each other in the middle of the ballroom.”