An Innocent In Paradise

“It’s not what you think.”

“Yeah?” he said. “Because I’m thinking you pretty much made her day. And night, apparently.”

“Yes, well.” She brushed her hair off her forehead, then fiddled with her sunglasses. “I didn’t do anything she couldn’t have… Well, I just…” She glanced up at the sky. “It’s late. I really should get to my spores.”

“Wait.”

She froze and he took immediate advantage, stepping closer, invading her personal space.

“What is it, Logan? Is something wrong?” Her pink tongue slid across her lush lips again and he almost groaned.

“If you lick your lips again,” he warned, “I’m going to haul you over my shoulder and take you to my room.”

She swallowed slowly. “I-I can’t help it. You make me nervous.”

“Do I?”

She glared at him. “You know you do. And I think you do it on purpose.”

“Yeah, maybe I do.” He skimmed his fingers across her shoulder and was gratified when she shivered. “That was a nice thing you did for her.”

She tilted her head, clearly baffled. “You think so?”

“Yeah.” His smile grew. “Do you often go around explaining the G-spot to clueless women?”

“Um, no.” She shook her head slowly. “That was definitely a first.”

He studied her, taking notice of the small scar over her left eyebrow, another smattering of pale freckles on the upper ridges of her cheeks, the perfect cupid’s bow of her upper lip. “What the hell makes you tick, Grace Farrell?”

Puzzled, she said, “I might ask the same of you.”

“Hey, I’m an open book.”

A frown line marred her brow. “Not to me.”

“The thing is,” he said, “I’m usually a pretty easygoing guy. But ever since you showed up, I’ve been feeling a little edgy.”

“That’s not my fault,” she said heatedly, poking her finger at his chest. “And I’m not leaving the island.”

He grabbed her finger to stop the jabs. “It’s not that kind of edgy.” He kept hold of her hand, rubbing his palm against hers, shaping it and molding it to his.

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Awareness had her licking her lips again and a bolt of pure heat lit up his insides.

“What do you want?” she whispered.

“This.” He leaned forward and kissed her, wrapping his hand around her nape to press her closer to him. Her mouth was as sweet as anything he’d ever tasted and he had to fight to keep the contact light. But his control was slipping as the heat of her body invaded his own. Visions of her lush, naked skin danced through his mind and he groaned.

He would’ve stopped, but a delicious sigh escaped her throat and her lips parted for him. He plunged inside her warmth and her tongue met his instantly, eagerly. Logan felt his heartbeat stagger and every muscle in his body hardened with need.

He wanted her, wanted to strip her clothes off and touch her breasts, her thighs, her slick core. He wanted his hands and mouth on every inch of her body. Now.

The images jarred him back to reality and he remembered they were standing outside in view of anyone who walked by. That’s when he pulled back, but not completely. He took his time, kissing the corners of her mouth, her cheeks, the line of her jaw, the silky length of her neck.

“Let’s go to my room,” he murmured against her skin, then took her hand and started walking back to the hotel.

She stopped and pulled her hand away. “I can’t do that. I have to go.”

He turned and looked at her. “No you don’t.”

“I do. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” She paused to catch her breath. “You don’t know me.”

“No,” he said carefully. “But I do know you want me and I want you.”

She looked so serious. “You don’t, really.”

“You’re wrong, Grace,” he said, reaching for her.

She put both hands up to stop him. “If you really knew me, you never would’ve kissed me. You would’ve run for the hills.” She took two steps backward. “I’m saving you the trouble.”

“Nice of you.”

“Oh, you have no idea.” Then she gave a firm nod. “It’s definitely best that we stop right now.”

“Yeah?” He closed the gap between them. “I say we test that theory.” Yanking her close, he covered her mouth with his and kissed her roughly at first. Then he softened his lips against hers and they moved together, deepening the kiss until they were both shaking with need.

When she moaned again, he let her go, then watched her lick her lips and taste him there. The move was innocent and skilled at the same time, and he scowled as an irrational wave of tenderness washed over him.

Finally, she opened her eyes and stared at him in wonder. “Wow.”

“Yeah,” he said gruffly. “That’s what I’m talking about.”

“Well, don’t ever say I didn’t warn you.” Then she turned and jogged away as swiftly as her feet could move in the deep white sand.

He didn’t follow her, just watched as she disappeared through the thick fronds at the far end of the beach.

What the hell was she talking about? He’d never had to work this hard to convince a woman to make love with him. If you really knew me, you never would’ve kissed me. He shook his head at the memory of her words. Oh, he knew her, all right. She was a woman and therefore a master manipulator. She could give lessons, no doubt about it.

That didn’t seem to negate the fact that he was currently sporting a massive hard-on, thanks to her. Now that was something his entire staff would notice if he strolled into the hotel at that moment. So instead, he pulled off his shirt and tossed it on a chaise, then walked straight into the water to cool himself off.

Four

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Logan said to the others participating in yet another conference call. “With the opening of the new Alleria sports center, the island will become a premier destination for world-class sporting events such as tennis, gymnastics and boxing.”

Aidan, sitting in the brothers’ penthouse offices two thousand miles away in New York City, picked up the conversation. “As you’ll note in the prospectus we’ve sent you, the main court will have a tiered seating capacity of five thousand. We’ll have ten deluxe private-viewing suites, a press booth, locker rooms, a four-thousand-square- foot commissary and private dining rooms for players and visiting dignitaries.”

Eleanor, their senior vice president who was working out of the New York office with Aidan, jumped in. “There are six adjacent practice courts, as well. And the main court is easily converted to a boxing ring, gymnastic floor, a concert stage, or whatever is required. This project is shovel-ready, gentlemen. As soon as the contracts are signed, construction can begin.”

“We’ve more than proven the viability of Alleria as a sports destination,” Aidan said. “The Alleria Palms Golf Tournament is now third in worldwide television viewing audience, surpassed only by the Masters and the British Open. Our airport is world-class and we’ve recently expanded the resort by another five hundred rooms.”

Part of the prospectus they’d sent their handpicked investors included a pictorial story of the island itself. It mainly featured their own bayside resort as well as the tiny Victorian port town of Tierra del Alleria. There, attractive shops and eclectic restaurants lined the beach and pier that formed the harbor where multimillion-dollar sailboats docked side by side with the local fishermen who sold their daily catch.

Logan and Aidan had created a ten-year, slow-growth plan to attract small businesses and specialty tourist groups. The sports center would attract the type of high-end traveler who, in theory, would appreciate the eco-