Tempting Isabel (Paradise South #1) (16 page)

“Isa…he’s fuming. No worries.”

“Fine. Well, I guess I’ll meet you back down here in two hours with the bride.”

She pressed Lucinda’s number on her touch screen as soon as both feet were on the uneven cobblestone drive. And from the corner of her eye she caught Antonio shaking his head at her, probably for her incessant multitasking. She waved and threw him an acknowledging smile while taking renewed care in her footing as she made her way into the hotel—where she’d no doubt find,
had
to find, the best and worst and most tempting thing to happen to Isabel Ruiz.

That thing’s full name—Zachary James.

CHAPTER 20

A
fter Zack checked
out of the Airington and moved himself to the Bay View per his brother’s request, he met Darren and the groomsmen in the sauna at the hotel spa. After a late and crazy night, they all looked wrecked. Happily, hazily done in.

As for Zack, his body was still buzzing from Isabel. But his frenetic high was encased in the
re-enlivened
nothingness he felt in his gut, and he had a pounding headache to go with it. Maybe the guys would be an entertaining distraction for him. After all, he couldn’t stay holed up in his room like he wanted to. Darren wouldn’t have it.

So it seemed that John, Wret, and the others had shown Darren a great time after Zack had split from the group the night before. Darren only remembered a blur of nipples, he said. He thanked Zack and his best friends for the party, and cited that he was ready and looking forward to his
soon-to
-be wife’s nipples, and only her nipples, from that point forward. They all laughed and punched the crap out of him, then whipped each other’s asses with the towels that had been wrapped around their waists.

Such was male bonding in a sauna.

Wret asked if anyone had heard how the girls’ night went, and Darren announced his decision to not think on it.

But Zack knew. “Actually, Amy called me early on in the night, checking up on Darren.”

All the guys began busting on the groom, the whipping sounds of towels resuming, this time in thin air.

“But Amy sounded pretty distraught. It sounds like the maid of honor arranged the bachelorette party at the Rainbow Club… All the
man-on
-man action, and none for her and the girls!”

“You aren’t serious!” Darren shouted. They all broke out laughing, some of them in tears.

“Wait a minute, wait a minute…hold on! What I want to know is, where did Zack slink off to last night?” John presented to the guys.

Once attention turned to Zack, there was no going back.

“I spotted him at the bar hitting on a
jaw-dropping
piece of ass. No, dude, she literally had the most fucking amazing ass I have ever seen. And rack! But it was that round, fuckable ass that really got me sprung! If that was who he left with…oh, Lord!” Wret spewed, then pounded Zack on the back for congrats and good measure.

And Zack’s anger spiked hotter than the sauna, hotter than the goddamn sun.

*

Rage ripped through him.
White-knuckled
, Zack clenched his fists at his waist, doing everything he could to keep the cool,
straight-lined
smile plastered on his face. He locked his jaw.

Say nothing, stay
silent.

He kept absolutely still there on the
wood-slatted
bench, or else, he worried, he’d slam his brother’s college roommate in the face. Just
dead-on
in the nose.

Isabel wasn’t even his—far fucking from it with her having vanished again, goddammit—but that wasn’t the point. Those assholes weren’t even worthy enough to fantasize about her, let alone talk about her.

Zack, just let it
go.

He felt Darren nudge him, but he ignored any contact. He was still not okay.

Darren, apparently knowing his brother was trying to keep his temper, quickly steered the subject in a different direction, giving Zack time to cool down in the stifling heat and heightened testosterone of the small wooden space.

*

Within minutes, Darren had drawn attention away from Zack’s alleged conquest by way of embellishment. His brother spun a story about Zack, some groupies of a visiting celebrity, a
party-turned
-orgy, and a yacht.

And even though, God, those comments about Isabel had choked out his ability to keep control, keep calm, Zack had come back down, even
fake-laughing
along with the guys as if nothing had pissed him off only minutes before. Though he was an expert at keeping his cool in even his most heated business dealings, this had been worlds different, a precedent really. His mother and brother were the only people in his life he’d ever gotten so defensive of. Before Isabel.

But what mattered was that she was no longer a topic, out of all their filthy, undeserving minds, so he just let the tall tales and rumors fly. And after all, only a few weeks ago, grandiose orgies weren’t out of the realm of possibility for the great Zack James, so he wasn’t about to say anything to dispel the guys’ excitement. And hell, no harm in letting his kid brother, who was soon to be hitched, live vicariously through Zack before his big day, even if the new chapter in Zack’s story was far from the spun fantasy the guys had created, as far as the sun is from the Earth. His new chapter with Isabel was actually, magically, solidly, down to Earth. Except for the fact that he didn’t know where on Earth she was again, his life—with her in it—would no doubt be so raw and real, tangible, whole. His heart slammed his chest from the inside.
So
whole.

*

The men were all at the brink of overheating in the sauna, but the common consensus was to stick it out for a few more
death-defying
minutes. The steam had helped lighten Zack’s mood, getting him even further away from his initial fury over the words said about Isabel earlier.

Still amazed and impossibly jealous over Zack’s supposed conquests the night before, the guys were getting more and more daring, really trying to bust his balls.

“This asshole even had one of the strippers last night whining for him, pissed that he wasn’t there! I think her name was Deedee or Diamond?” John said.

“Destiny,” Wret said. “She was so fine! Man,
right-up
-
in-my
-face
fine
, you know? But she wouldn’t compare to a floating gangbang! On a yacht, no less.”

“That’s why he’s Mama’s lucky charm!” Darren added. Zack grimaced and punched his brother in the arm for telling his friends their mother’s nickname for him.

But Zack came back to rile the men up for one more round. “Like luck had anything to do with it! Lady Luck can join the
fuck-fest
too,” he spat. “There’s plenty of me to go around!” He ripped off his towel, displaying all that he had for Miss Fortune, giving the men the cocky arrogance they craved. When he threw his towel onto Darren’s face, the men roared.

The sauna filled to the max with the men’s pumping testosterone, fantastical delusions, and more hot steam.

*

While the guys showered, Darren cornered Zack in the locker room. “What the fuck happened in there earlier? It looked like you wanted to murder John.”

“Dude, nothing,” Zack shot, a
knee-jerk
response. Then seeing the look on his brother’s face while knowing the man had just totally gotten his back, he reset himself. “Just, not now, man.”

“That’s just fine,” Darren said, expertly
guilt-tripping
Zack with just his tone.

“For fuck’s sake…fine. That woman, at the bar…I’m into her. Really into her.”

“Holy hell! Zack James is—”

“Shut the fuck up, dude.”
God, some things never change
—Darren’s volume hiking five decibels from excitement like his kid brother was…a kid again. All the guys turned to look at them, but Darren brushed them off with a nod of his head.

Back to a whisper, “This is a damn…enigma! A miracle! And at my wedding! You’ve got to bring her, dude! I have got to meet this woman!”

“I can’t. She’s MIA.” A cramp tore through Zack’s middle while his heart pounded in his throat.

“So, she’s not into you?” Darren whispered as best he could with even more surprise in his hushed tone.

“I thought she was. Or she is, but I think she’s just…a
commitment-phobe
.”

“Not an actual term, but, dude, that’s perfect. A perfect goddamn match, because so are you!” Darren laughed, then got another pounding in his arm for the comment and for forgetting to whisper.

*

Amy greeted Isabel with an enormous hug, as if they’d known each other forever. And they had been in close contact throughout the yearlong preparation process. It just so happened that Amy Rine was someone she could stand knowing. So many times, that was not the case with Isabel’s brides.

Amy welcomed her into the suite. Isabel pinpointed the maid of honor and the mother of the bride, Annette Rine, hitting the mimosa tray without relent—yeah, she didn’t need introductions to know. And wow, they obviously noticed Isabel, performing—and completing—
top-to
-bottom assessments of her in
mother-daughter
unison. Isabel just smiled, not unused to such looks by any means.

Amy made quick introductions and then, being obviously
out-of
-
her-head
excited to try on her gown, she ran to the back bedroom to do just that. Isabel was left alone with the two women and the room’s pervading
ice-cold
vibe.

It didn’t matter, Isabel knew to expect their iciness. As Raquel had forewarned, they wanted the owner of Golden Rings at their beck and call, but they were getting her instead.

Isabel smiled politely. “How has your stay been so far here at the Bay View? Comfortable, I hope.”

Stephanie rolled her eyes. “Sorry…Jezebel, was it? I understood my sister’s wedding was being arranged by Lucinda Carlyle of Golden Rings Weddings.”

“Isabel.”

“Who is
Isabel
? My name is Stephanie, remember, from a minute ago, and from the stupid questionnaires? Stephanie Rine, the maid of honor, Amy’s sister.”

“
Older
sister and not getting any younger either,” mumbled Annette Rine, obviously buzzed and not ashamed by it. “This may be the only time I get to be mother of the bride,” she stated, certainly directing the comment at Stephanie, whose eye roll Annette seemed glad to ignore. “And so this wedding must be better than perfect. We understood that the woman to make that happen is Lucinda Carlyle.”

“Not to worry, Mrs. Rine—”

“
Ms.
Rine.” Evil glare.

So subconsciously intentional, Isabel held back a smirk. “Ms. Rine, of course. My name, again, is Isabel, and if there’s anything Amy needs, I’m at her absolute disposal. And her wedding will be all she imagined and more. That, I guarantee.”

“
You
guarantee, huh?” Stephanie Rine piped.

And sometimes fate throws a bone, as a thankful knock sounded at the door. Isabel went to answer it. “That was fast! Thank you, Anna,” Isabel said as the young room service attendant rolled in a cart of morning muffins and a replacement tray of mimosas.

The two women paused their pretentious assault on Isabel and attacked the cart instead. Easy as fresh squeezed orange juice and sparkling wine—they wouldn’t be any trouble for her. It also helped that Isabel didn’t give a damn what those two thought of her. She was obliged to the bride and the signer/guarantor of the event contract, which was neither Annette nor Stephanie. Isabel would, of course, be respectful to all the family members and guests, but she’d been
hired
by Amy and her father.

*

Amy came out the next instant in her wedding dress.

Isabel was floored.

Amy glowed.

Isabel swallowed back a sudden knot of emotion. Seeing her brides in their dresses always had an impact on her. Her Sebastian floated into her mind like a dagger to the heart each and every time.

“What a stunning gown on an even more stunning bride,” Isabel said.

“And where is Lucinda Carlyle, anyway?” the mother of the bride mumbled to the mimosa tray, as if reawakened to the here and now, but was completely ignoring the vision that was her youngest daughter. Amy seemed unfazed by her mother’s bypass, it probably happened all the time, Isabel guessed.

Isabel followed Amy’s lead and pretended not to have heard the woman.

“It does fit like a dream, doesn’t it?” Amy said, spinning, enamored by the train of her gown. “All the bridesmaids tried on their dresses yesterday, and they all fit well, except for Preeya, my college roommate. She flies in tomorrow. Oh, and Stephanie hasn’t tried hers on yet,” Amy said, eyeing her sister for an instant, and, receiving a glare in return, she headed to the back room. “I’ll get changed so we can go see the church, Isabel. I cannot wait to see the aisle I’m walking down on Saturday,” she called over her shoulder.

Isabel always took her brides to the church for a preview so they could feel the peace and beauty of it before it was filled with people and before the bride was consumed by nerves. It allowed the bride’s wedding fantasy to come to life even before the big day, and it often abolished the common
wedding-day
jitters altogether, which was Isabel’s plan.

But for Isabel, just stepping into the
iron-domed
sanctuary was always bittersweet. Just like her career choice, the torture of seeing the church where she’d been set to marry her first love sent a surge of agony through her. But it was necessary and cleansing. A tribute. A remembrance. And there was no more beautiful place to be married than at the Church of Our Lady Guadalupe.

In the awkward silence of the suite, she looked down at the floor, then her hands, her wrists, her cuff bracelet. Beyond the forthcoming pain at the church, a new competing torture had been thrust into her life.
Zachary James
. And oh God, did she feel regrettably and wonderfully alive with him. Thinking about Zack, internally debating over him, dreaming of him, hating and
re-hating
him, it made her blood flow hot and thick through her veins. And now she got to dread the inevitable reunion with him, the best man of Amy and Darren’s wedding.

“Isabel…Isabel?”

“Sorry, what was that Amy?”

The bride appeared in an adorable summer dress, heels, and a genuinely sweet smile. “I was just saying that you are taking so much on your shoulders. I just appreciate it so much.”

“Oh, sweetie, that
is
my job, and my pleasure. And, goodness, I was just thinking about the church. You’re going to absolutely love it, Amy. It’s one of my favorite places on Earth, and—”