Sinful Suspense Box Set

  “Any chance I can shower first?” I asked. “I feel like I have jet lag residue on my skin.”

  “That works out well,” Pierre said. “I’ve got an errand to run first. Then I’ll be back.”

  One day when I was a teenager and Josh Kincaid had dumped me for Lisa Duncan, my mom tried to console me with a batch of oatmeal cookies and a mother-daughter chat. She’d handed me a napkin to blow my nose, and I peered up at her through bleary eyes and asked her why we needed guys since they served no purpose except to annoy us. She promptly answered that without men there would be a lot of unopened pickle jars sitting in the fridge. We had a good laugh over it, but when I moved into my own place I realized it was true. And I had a three year old jar of spaghetti sauce on my kitchen shelf to prove it. I was definitely having a pickle jar moment but it was my sun block instead. After nearly breaking my teeth out trying to open it, I pulled on my robe and poked my head out of the bedroom. I was hoping to spot Taylor but Nick was walking past.

  He stopped and looked at the bottle in my hand and seemed to instinctually know, through some guy code, that he was required to open it. He reached for it and loosened the cap with no effort.

  I took it from him and removed the cap. Apparently my bottle was still feeling the effects of cabin pressure. A stream of white cream squirted out and I threw my hand up to avoid getting it in my eyes. I stared down at the dollop that had landed on the rug. “I’ll clean that up.” I looked up at him but he was not looking at my face.

  “Nice,” he said with a lazy smile.

  I glanced down and was horrified to find that during the lotion explosion, my boob had sprung free from my loosely tied robe. I pulled the robe tightly around me and shut the door. I’d never had brothers and I’d never lived with a guy so I was going to have to remember the hazards of the loosely tied robe . . . among other things. I should have been mortified but I figured we were even on the awkward moment scale now, his rather dubious kiss versus me flinging my boob at him. In fact, the more I thought about it, he still had the upper edge with that damn kiss.

  Chapter 6

  Pierre had returned just in time. I was actually starting to feel a little shaky from lack of food. I put on sandals to go with my shorts and tank top and wondered briefly if we’d be dressing casually at the office. It seemed appropriate for the location.

  Nick had switched from a white t-shirt to a black one and I was trying to decide which one he looked best in. It was a tossup.

  I was definitely feeling the effects of jet lag as we lingered over lunch. But a soft, fragrant breeze swept up the patio where we sat and helped to keep me awake. I felt like a kid waiting for my parents to finish their morning coffee at the vacation motel so we could hit the beach.

  “So, Nick,” Pierre said, “you haven’t told me how you found this incredibly hot employee for the office.”

  Nick’s dark sunglasses faced Pierre. “She was the only person to call.”

  “Well, that makes me feel special.” I grinned at Pierre. “Aside from being irresistible, I have a degree in marketing and I was the top salesperson at Kingsley Advertising.”

  “Impressive.” Pierre looked at Nick. “Beautiful and smart— the best combination, ay, Nick?”

  Nick finished his beer and leaned back. “Don’t you mean the most lethal combination?”

  Pierre chucked Nick on the shoulder and then looked a bit nervous that he’d done it. “Never known you to shy away from danger,” Pierre said with a wink.

  Nick didn’t reply to his friend’s goading. “Let’s head to the office as soon as we’re done here. I’ve got some calls to make.” His long legs stretched out beneath the table and suddenly I found his calf nestled between my bare calves. The rough denim of his jeans rubbed the side of my leg. His black sunglasses made it impossible to know which direction he was looking. I couldn’t tell if he was intentionally pressing his leg against me or if there just wasn’t enough room for his legs beneath the table.

  “You are a killjoy, Nick. I was hoping we’d get to head to the beach today,” Taylor said.

  “There are things we need to take care of his afternoon,” Nick said tersely.

  “Right.”

  “Are there properties to show today?” I asked.

  All three men looked at me as if I’d asked something odd.

  “Listings to prepare, sellers to sign?” I asked hesitantly.

  Nick sat up and dragged his leg away from mine. “Yep. I’ve got a few people waiting to hear from us, so you can make those calls when we get to the office.”

  “Sounds good,” I said, but my dreamy gaze drifted down to the crystal blue water. Dozens of people were splashing and wading in waves. Taylor was right, Nick was a killjoy. It was real estate after all. What could be so urgent that we had to head to the office right away?

  “Pierre,” Nick said, “you and Taylor take the car over to the office, and I’ll drive Jayden over on the bike. Something tells me if she doesn’t get to stick her toes in the water, she’s going to be daydreaming about the beach for the rest of the afternoon.”

  Taylor slumped back against his chair looking a bit like a pouty kid.

  I felt bad for him. “But Taylor wanted to—”

  “Taylor has stuff to do at the office,” Nick said. He stood and threw some money on the table signaling to everyone that lunch was over. His phone buzzed and he glanced at it but ignored the call. Sunglasses or not, this time I knew he was looking at me. He stared down at me for a moment then stuck out his large hand. “Come on, Flash, let’s walk down to the water.”

  “You’re not going to let me live down the robe incident, are you?” My hand was dwarfed by his.

  “Nope.”

  I was all right with it though because I had my own little piece of arsenal to bring up if necessary.

  “What robe incident?” Taylor asked enthusiastically. “There was a robe incident?”

  “Go get the car, Taylor.” Nick squeezed my hand in his and led me toward the water.

  Keeping up with Nick’s long legs in soft sand was not easy. He nearly dragged me around the maze of towels, chairs, and umbrellas.

  I yanked my hand free, and he stopped to look at me. “At least let me take off my sandals so I can feel the sand through my toes as we race over it.” I braced my hand on his hard arm for balance and took off my shoes. Two steps in, I realized the dark sand was extremely hot. I dropped my sandals, picked up a trot, and raced down to the water for relief. I glanced back. Nick had sat down.

  “Aren’t you coming in?” I called to him.

  He shook his head. “I think watching will be more fun.” The man was a puzzle. One minute he was gruff, almost cruel, and the next he was flirting suggestively. And men think women are changeable.

  The crystal blue water lapped over my bare feet, and I was in heaven. It was warm and effervescent and soothing like the perfect spa bath. The scenery was incredible. I had to remember my camera next time. I’d left my cell phone behind because it had no international plan and would have been worthless in Tahiti, but I planned to send out a lot of emails. I was finally going to have some awe-inspiring pictures to post.

  Gentle water lapped at my knees, and I could still see my toes perfectly in the crystal water. I needed a pedicure. I leaned down to run my hands through the water and a Frisbee landed next to me. I picked it up and looked for the owner.

  A nicely built guy with a blindingly white smile waded toward me.

  “Sorry about that,” he said and took hold of the Frisbee. His smile widened. “I haven’t seen you out on this beach before. Did you just land in Tahiti?”

  I looked pointedly down at my snow white legs. “Gee, what gave it away? But I tan quickly, so I plan to catch up and lose the tourist look soon.” I glanced back toward the sand. Nick was definitely watching
me, sunglasses and all. “I’m here to work for a month.”

  “Cool,” he said. “It’s a nice place to work. I’m a bartender at a restaurant in Papeete. My friend got me the job for the summer.” He was young, early twenties at the most. He stuck out his hand. “I’m Clint.”

  “Like the actor?” I wiped my hand on my shorts and shook his. “I’m Jayden.”

  “Yeah, my mom had a thing for him so she named me Clint. What can I say? We don’t have any choice when it comes to names.”

  “I think it’s a cool name.” As I spoke a shadow loomed over us. Nick had taken off his shoes and waded into the water. He stood over us like a giant Greek statue of Zeus . . . but with sunglasses.

  Clint’s charming smile faded, and he fidgeted with the disc in his hand. I looked at Nick expecting him to speak or introduce himself or something resembling normal human interaction, but he just stood there with his ridiculously wide shoulders.

  “Uh, this is my boss, Nick.”

  Clint’s face unfroze and he forced a smile. It seemed to take all his courage but he stuck out his hand. “Nice to meet you, Nick.”

  Nick reluctantly returned the greeting and took his hand.

  “Maybe I’ll see you around, Jayden,” Clint said hastily and waded back the way he came.

  Nick stood in the water still casting his humongous shadow over me.

  I squinted up at him. “You’d be a lot of fun at a party. I’m done testing the waters. Let’s go to work, Boss.”

  My feet dried as soon as they hit the heated sand, and immediately I moved into the walking on hot coals dance. “Ouch, ouch, ouch.” I tried to make the least amount of contact possible with the ground. When had my sandals moved so far away from the water? Of course the hot sand didn’t seem to bother Nick in the least. I gasped as his arm snaked around my waist and he lifted me off the ground. My feet dangled a foot above the sand as he carried me back to our shoes and then dropped me rather unceremoniously to my feet.

  I sat down to put on my shoes and he followed. “All right, maybe not much fun at a party but remarkably handy on a hot beach,” I said.

  He wasn’t big on showing emotion but I was absolutely certain I’d caught a glimpse of lines around his mouth as if he’d smiled. But then they disappeared.

  We got back to the house. Since we were going to ride on a motorcycle, I decided to switch from sandals to sneakers as if they could somehow keep me safe if we fell. Don’t really know what my reasoning was behind it considering I was wearing shorts and a sleeveless shirt, but I guess I figured even if all my skin was scraped off in a fall at least my feet would be safe. We had no helmets so I swept my hair up into a pony tail. Mom’s angry face kept flashing before my eyes as I brushed my hair. I would not even have to tell her I’d ridden on the back of a bike without a helmet— her mom telepathy would let her know.

  Nick had the bike warmed up by the time I walked back out of the house. The fact that I’d switched to close-toed shoes seemed to amuse him.

  “Hey, at least I’ll be ready if I have to jump off while the bike is still moving,” I said.

  “Hop on, Flash. We need to get going.” I threw my leg over the seat and tucked myself in behind him. He did not leave much room for a regular sized person back there, and I had no choice except to press against him. I placed my hands lightly on his shoulders and he turned his chin toward me. “You’ll need to put your arms around my waist or risk bouncing off when we hit a pothole.”

  His hard stomach muscles rippled beneath my hands as I wrapped my arms around him. I pressed firmly against his solid back, and I was just tired enough to rest my face there too. The ride through the crowded town, where both drivers and pedestrians seemed to make up rules as they went, was a bit like a crazy ride at an amusement park. But aside from several near misses of swinging car doors and a couple of daredevil bicyclists, it was the best damn motorcycle ride of my life. By the time we pulled up in front of the realty office my heart was racing and it had nothing to do with the wild ride through town.

  “Oh, I guess we’re here,” I said airily trying to hide my disappointment in knowing that I would have to let go of him. I peeled my breasts and the rest of my body off of him and released my hold. I swung my leg over the back and stood.

  Nick turned off the bike and pushed his glasses off his face and onto his head. He looked up at me from the bike. His Adam’s Apple moved up and down in his throat as he stared at me.

  “Finally,” Taylor once again broke a rather strange bout of silence. “Thought you guys were going to stay on the beach all day.”

  Nick pulled his gaze away and got off the bike. “Everything go off all right?” he asked.

  “Without a hitch,” Taylor said.

  I had no idea what they were talking about. I hoped that I’d be included in their business conversations soon. “Did we sell something?” I asked.

  They both looked at me again as if I’d asked something untoward. It seemed like a reasonable question. “You know like a house or prime piece of land,” I elaborated but could not understand why I needed to.

  “Oh, that,” Taylor said.

  “That’s what you’re going to get started on right now,” Nick said. “I’ve got several clients waiting to hear from us.”

  “Great, I’m anxious to get started.” I was almost completely recovered from my rather erotic ride to work, and now I was ready to show Regent Realty what I could do.

  The only difference between the Tahiti office and the Los Angeles office was that the new office was in Tahiti and not L.A. Otherwise it looked as if they’d just picked up their tiny chunk of office space, chucked it into the cargo hold of a plane, and had it dropped here in Papeete.

  Pierre walked into the front office with a mesh beach chair and placed it in front of a wobbly desk. With a flourish of his hand, he invited me to sit. The mesh chair was a step up from the metal chair, but it was definitely going to leave an unsightly imprint on the back of my thighs. Office supplies were scarce, but at least they’d given me a computer.

  Nick disappeared into the back room, returned with a large book of multiple listings, and dropped it onto the desk in front of me. The desk creaked as if it had taken its last gasp of breath. “Our listings are marked with paper clips,” he said. He pulled a folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me. “Here are a couple of names and numbers. They are looking for vacation properties.” He pointed to a scribbled name where all I could make out of it was the letter J. “This guy, Jacobson, is a rich guy. Has a two million dollar budget for a property. I haven’t met him. Probably some old fart looking for a place to keep a mistress. Anyhow, you might want to start with him. He’s only here on business for two more weeks.” With that he left the room.

  Taylor and Pierre looked at me with sympathetic grins.

  “Well, I guess that concludes the training portion of the job.” I sighed loudly and scooted the massive listings book closer to me. “I’m going in.” I flipped to the first paperclip and grabbed the lovely notepad that had a picture of a cartoon cat instead of the Regent Realty letter head and started taking down notes about each listing.

  Taylor joined Nick in the back office to do whatever the hell they were doing, and Pierre said his farewells but promised to swing by later with the car.

  After perusing the listings and checking them out on-line, I decided to call the rich old guy’s number and set up a showing. I’d never sold real estate and didn’t know much about it, but I figured I could set up the appointment and let the experts do the rest.

  “Jacobson here,” a voice said on the other end. He sounded hurried and busy like an important guy but he didn’t sound old.

  “Hello, my name is Jayden Clark. I’m with Regent Realty.”

  “Who?”

  “Regent Realty.”

 
“Yes, I’m rather busy at—”

  “I’ve found some fantastic properties that I think you might be interested. Perfect places to kick up your feet and forget about the troubles of your day.” There was a pause on the other end and I thought he might have hung up. “Views that will leave you as breathless as your first kiss.”

  A pause. “What did you say your name was?”

  “Jayden Clark.”

  “Tomorrow at noon. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there.”

  “Terrific,” I said. “You’ll probably be meeting with my Mr. Regent.”

  “I don’t want to meet with Mr. Regent. You can show me the houses. See you then.”

  Nick emerged from the office.

  “I made an appointment to show Mr. Jacobson a house tomorrow at noon,” I said.

  “Great.”

  “He wants me to show it to him.”

  “Even better.”

  “There’s one teensy weensy problem with that plan,” I said.

  “That you don’t know anything about showing houses?”

  My shoulders sank. “All right, so there are two teensy weensy problems. But the problem I was referring to has to do with the fact that I have no idea how to get to any of these properties.”

  “Just get the map on-line.”

  “Those maps confuse me in my own neighborhood. I don’t think they’ll help in Tahiti.”

  “Pierre will drive you,” he said and walked out. I heard his bike fire up and momentarily daydreamed about the ride to the office.

  “Where the heck is he going?” Taylor’s question jolted me from my reverie.

  “He didn’t say.” I went back to my notes. I needed to decide which property to show Jacobson first, and I needed to study its features because apparently I was now a full-fledged realtor.

  Taylor worked on something in the back room— just not completely sure what he was working on. But I had thrown myself into doing this job right. I never liked to do things half-assed, so I spent two hours going through listings, realty sites, desirable locations, and anything else I could Google.