The Bad Boys of Eden (136 page)

I feel a lurch and tug as the pontoons touch water and the plane slows. I figure it is safe to open my eyes.

A dock juts out from the island. The boards are laid in a zigzag pattern, making a line of hexagons that ends in a large u-shaped docking area. The pattern created against the pure blue water is fascinating and complex.

Then I see a rock sticking up above the water. A bronze plaque is fixed to it, and it reflects the setting sun, making the letters on it glow. It reads:

Welcome to Eden, where reality is whatever you wish it to be…

Joely guides the small plane expertly to the dock. From my window, I see her get out and throw ropes. Two young men, dressed in white uniforms, tie off the sea plane. One unloads my luggage from the plane; the other opens the door and helps me out.

I step onto the wood dock and it dips and sways slightly. Water laps at the sides. The dying sun leaves a ribbon of turquoise in the sky at the horizon. Higher, the sky is navy and deep purple. Torches burn at the edges of the dock to illuminate it. Twinkling gold lights climb toward the sky. Those same lights are glowing on the castle—a black shape of tall towers and crenellations.

At the end of the dock, I climb aboard an open cart and am driven up a winding trail, beneath palm fronds and past exotic gardens. In the distance, I hear a soft roar.

“The waterfall,” my driver explains. “There is a grotto for swimming at its base.”

I peer at the castle as we grow closer. Lights sparkle around it and it pierces the now dark, velvety sky. There are so many stars. Even in small Westingham, there is too much light to see the trillions of stars in the sky. But here, they are laid out like a dazzling blanket.

We pass the castle. My driver tells me, “Ma’am, you are staying in one of the exclusive private buildings.”

The track leads us into jungle foliage, where it’s really dark. The lights of the vehicle strike palm trees, dense vines, and thick fronds. We emerge from the jungle in front of a stone building that looks like an English manor house. An immaculate lawn surrounds it, along with beautiful landscaping: sculpted hedges, and roses, now furled up in the dark. It looks like something out of
Pride and Prejudice
, one of my favorite books, placed in the middle of a colorful, untamed jungle. Beyond it, I hear the crashing surf.

The doorman grasps the metal ring that serves as the door handle. It gives a soft creak. The door itself opens soundlessly.

I walk inside into a hallway, lit only by candles. I look around for a reception desk. There are some old fashioned settees, paintings of landscapes, many candles.

There’s a poster in a metal stand. It’s a picture of two muscular men with fists raised—a poster for a prize fight. A fight for charity. The date blazoned on the poster is for this Saturday. Must be a special event on the island—

Oh. My God. One of the men is Ryder. The other is Xavier.

* * *

Both the men in my life are coming
here
.

Stunned, I hear a thud and realize I dropped my carryon bag. Xavier had to know Ryder would be here when he invited me. They’re in a fight together.

So why bring me here now? What does he want?

“Ms. King?”

“It’s Tate,” I say automatically. Then I look up into the handsome face of a young man in a grey suit with a name tag on his lapel. His name is Rodney and he has a bright smile.

“Good evening, Ms. Tate,” he says. “May I check you in?”

He must think I’m crazy, staring at a poster and dropping my luggage. But he waves his hand and suddenly another employee comes forward, picks up both my carryon and my suitcase.

This building has its own front desk, charmingly worked into a Regency-style parlor. But I keep staring at the poster. Rodney has to tell me my room number three times before it sinks in.

The porter takes me up to my room via an ornate elevator. My room is at the end of the hall and I know it’s going to overlook the ocean.

He opens the door with an old-fashioned key. My key is a futuristic patch that I can stick anywhere on my body and that automatically opens my door. The geek in me—the one turned on by rocks and geology—is highly impressed.

“Your room, Ms. Tate. We hope it is satisfactory. If I can do anything to improve your stay at Eden, do not hesitate to call.”

I am about to tell the porter I am delighted—the bedroom looks like one Lizzie Bennett would have—when I sense movement in the corner of my eye. Someone is stepping forward, someone tall and masculine who moves like a graceful panther. I spin around—

It’s not Xavier.

It’s
Ryder
.

Ryder slips a folded bill into the hand of my porter, who bows and withdraws. I’m standing in the center of my charming room, my jaw almost on the floor. “What are you doing here?”

“I invited you here, Tessa.”

Then it all makes sense. “My mother knew.” Of course, she had to. “But she didn’t tell me. I thought Xavier did this and she let me go right on thinking that.”

“I asked her to keep it secret. Your mom was willing to help me because she wants us to reconcile.”

“Yeah, but I’m her
daughter
.” I realize he means Mom wants us to get back together so much, she’s willing to lie to me. She never understood why I said we couldn’t make up. She would get so frustrated.
Keeping secrets from you isn’t such a big deal,
she would say
. He’s never hit you or Jakey. He’s never done a thing to hurt either of you. Ryder is a good husband.

“You did all this. The plane tickets. The gift certificate. Arranging for staff to help Mom while I’m away.” That’s obvious, but my brain seems to be working slowly. “Why all the secrecy, Ryder?”

“I never dreamed you’d figure it was anyone but me who sent the invitation.” He pouts and looks so sexy it makes me physically ache.

I frown, trying not to be affected by how gorgeous he is. “Why didn’t you just put your name on the invitation?”

“I wanted it to be an adventure.”

Since I had such a crush on him I used to watch him every chance I could get. Sometimes, as a fourteen-year-old, I’d spy on him when he was in his backyard. Honestly, I feel embarrassed by the memory, but with all those hours I spent drooling over his expressions, I know them well. So I know when he’s hiding something. He’s doing that right now. “No, that’s not the reason.” Then I get it. “You didn’t think I’d come if I knew the truth.”

He shakes his head. “I thought you would know it was me, Tessa. But your first guess was Malone.”

“I’m dating Xavier now.” I cross my arms over my chest. “Ryder, I can’t stay.”

“I can’t believe my best friend tried to steal you.”

“It’s not stealing when we’re separated,” I point out.

He sits on the edge of the bed—it’s a feminine bed, and the ruffles and bed columns contrast with Ryder’s hard body and intense masculinity. His strength and power always seem to be sizzling inside him. Even when he sleeps, he never looks totally relaxed.

Sitting on my bed, he looks even sexier than usual. His T-shirt reveals his strong biceps and big shoulders and his jeans cling to his muscular legs.

“Why did you bring me here?”

“For a vacation.” He grins. “That’s not entirely true. I brought you to Eden to give you pure sexual pleasure. Your every fantasy fulfilled. All you have to do is say yes.”

His husky voice makes me shiver. And get hot. “You’re trying to bribe me into staying.”

He gives a sheepish grin. “Fuck, yes.”

Around Jakey, Ryder is careful with his language. He usually is around me. Sometimes, when he knew it would arouse me—the bad boy thing—he would slip back into the gritty way of talking he had when I first met him. When he acted like a tough kid.

“I’m going to fight for you,” he says.

“It’s not a matter of fighting for me,” I say. “I loved you. Completely. I still do—that’s what is making my life so damn hard, Ryder. But we can’t be together.”

“At least have dinner with me tonight.”

“I can’t stay, Ryder.”

“Tessa, angel, you can’t leave the island tonight.” His turquoise eyes hold mine. Filled with hope. “Have dinner with me and then decide tomorrow if you want to go home.”

“I can’t, Ryder. Having dinner with you would be a bad idea.”

* * *

I watch Ryder walk down the hallway. Then I shut my door and flopped on the bed.

Here am I in paradise. If I wanted, I could go out on the balcony off my room and look at the moonlit ocean.

Instead, I’m lying on the bed, remembering one of the saddest nights of my life.

Finding Ryder sitting in the corner on the kitchen floor had been the scariest thing in the world. Scary because I realized he was crying when I knew how tough he was. He looked as if he’d lost his grip, as if he was falling apart.

That night changed everything. I knew something haunted him—knew it by the anger that would snap in him. Anger directed at stuff, never at Jakey or I. Once Ryder slammed a hole in one of our walls. Another time he broke a door. He put a hammer through the wall in the garage. He never did it in front of us, but I found the destruction afterward.

After that night in the kitchen, I realized that he wasn’t just angry about something in his past. He was
tormented
by something in his past. Whatever was consuming him, it would destroy him.

To help him, I needed to know what it was. I knew he couldn’t be whole or happy unless he worked through whatever this nightmare was.

I don’t know what I’m going to do. Ryder arranged all this to try to reconcile. But one year ago, I told him point blank what I needed, and we split up because he admitted it was impossible.

There’s nowhere to go from here. I might as well return home.

That’s what I tell myself. That I’m going home because there’s no point in staying, nothing between us can change.

But I want to get home as quickly as possible.

I’m afraid that if I spend even one night on this exotic island with Ryder, I’ll start to weaken. That’s why I refused to have dinner with him.

I go down to the front desk. Rodney is there, looking extremely handsome in his conservative grey suit. I walk up to him and lean on the desk. “Can I get back to Miami tonight? I—I need to get home quickly. A family emergency,” I lie.

Rodney looks concerned. “I am sorry, Ms. Tate. There are no flights until tomorrow, nor are there any boats available.”

Ryder was right about that.

Involuntarily, I shiver. This is the Bermuda Triangle, and I’m trapped in it. I feel a strange sense of apprehension, a prickling on my nape. Maybe it’s just because Ryder tricked me, and I’m angry and hurt that he wasn’t just honest with me.

He was always good to me, sweet and caring. He is the most amazingly attentive lover, not to mention breathtakingly kinky (in a good, fun way). Why couldn’t he just be honest with me?

Can I compromise? Can I just accept Ryder as he is and try to work around it?

But how can I stand aside and watch someone I love go through such pain and not try to help?

“I can arrange an audience with the Master,” Rodney says. “If you need to contact anyone on the mainland, he can arrange it immediately.”

Greek business man Theodosius Vardalos was called the island’s “Master” in the brochure. What is he like? There’s something about Eden—the castle, the beautiful English Manor house I am staying in, the atmosphere of the whole island—that speaks of impeccable taste and immense power.

Phoning home won’t do anything. “No, that’s okay.”

Rodney stares at me, surprised.

Of course I just told him it was an emergency. He must be wondering why I’m not frantically jumping at any chance to deal with my supposed disaster. I decide on honesty. “My ex arranged this week as a surprise. I didn’t know he would be here. I’m not interested in getting back together. I really don’t think I should stay.”

“I will arrange for you to talk to the Master.” Rodney lowers his voice discreetly. “Has your ex been violent in any way? Do you fear for your safety at all?”

“No, no. It isn’t like that.” I feel like I’m digging a bigger hole. And it’s going to be embarrassing when it comes out who my ex is. That he’s one of the featured fighters for Eden’s special charity event.

“It’s just awkward,” I say.

“Why not stay tonight,” Rodney suggests. “You can make plans tomorrow if you wish to return home, Ms. Tate. If you want to avoid this gentleman tonight, that can be arranged.”

“I’ll stay tonight and I don’t think I need to worry about avoiding anyone.” My stomach growls. “Where can I get dinner here?”

“I will escort you to the dining room, Ms. Tate.”

I ask to get changed first and when I come down, Rodney is waiting.

As we reach a set of doors, a young woman with long red hair walks forward. She is wearing a trim, black satin dress that hugs her body. “Ms. Tate? Mr. King has asked if you would have dinner with him tonight. He said it is a special occasion—he said that he intends to apologize to you.” The girl looks breathless. She also lets her gaze slide over me, as if she’s trying to figure out why Ryder King, the famous, gorgeous MMA fighter, would have to apologize to me. Or beg me to join him for dinner.