SEDUCTION AT THE STARGRASS

by Charlee James

They sat on the couch together, and Mila turned on the movie. “This is my favorite, but don’t tell anyone. It’s not exactly cool to watch kid’s movies in the second grade.”

  “I never get sick of my childhood favorites.” The sun had vanished behind the horizon, and the room was dim.

  “I knew I liked you,” Mila whispered.

  Gemma smiled into the dark, something in her heart expanding with the simple words. Acceptance. Her whole life she’d fought to earn her place within the ranks of her family, and in one day, Mila had accepted her instantly. Then Mila’s hair pressed into her skin as the girl rested her head on her arm. Not just acceptance, but trust. Her chest swelled, and a knot lodged against the back of her throat. This child’s trust humbled her and made her want things that weren’t meant for her—at least she never entertained the thought of having a real family. Perhaps she’d always felt unworthy of love after vying for it for so long. Or maybe it was fear of being a parent like her own—more obsessed with money than family.

  Within moments, Mila’s breathing deepened, and Gemma maneuvered slightly to reach the remote. She lowered the volume and tugged the velour throw blanket over Mila. Zale might have wound his way into her heart quickly, but Mila had instantly carved out a place there. Gemma bit her bottom lip and smoothed her hand over the little girl’s hair. What would it be like to be a mother? For the first time, she was asking herself questions aside from those centered on career. What kind of life did she really want, and was she brave enough to reach out and grab it?

  Chapter 13

  Zale tapped his fingers impatiently against the cool elevator wall as it ascended to the top of the hotel. He’d been gone too long dealing with one problem after another. Shelly Ainsworth had somehow slipped out of his grasp and decked Cressida Brigham, breaking her nose and leaving Zale no other option than to call the police. While Shelly got her silver bracelets and was loaded into the back of a cruiser, the men lost their composure and had to be detained. The walls of the Stargrass had never witnessed so much drama.

  He kneaded the tension at the back of his neck. He’d left Gemma too long, taking advantage of her offer to babysit. He just hoped she wasn’t regretting her decision. Mila might convince Gemma to turn their kitchen into an ice cream parlor and eat a gallon of sugar before bedtime. His daughter's love of sweets knew no bounds. The elevator chimed as it came to a stop, and Zale stepped out as the steel doors spread open.

  He didn’t want to risk waking Gemma or Mila, so he gingerly unlocked the apartment. He opened the front door, poised to call out to them, but the room was dark and he saw two figures slumped on the couch. Zale flipped on the light over the range stove, which gave off just enough glow to see his Mila cuddled up to Gemma while Toy Story credits rolled over the television screen. For a few moments, he just drank in the image of them, so cozy and content, and struggled to breathe with the ferocious lump forming in his throat.

  Zale padded softly across the apartment, afraid to disturb the sweet scene in front of him.

  He moved in front of the couch, enjoying the peace it delivered to his soul. He shouldn’t indulge in the warmth that seeped through his chest, but they made such a picture he couldn’t help himself. On a long sigh, Zale lifted Mila in his arms and walked down the hall to her room. He stopped short at the entrance. It looked as if Hurricane Esmerelda had swept through early, leaving a mess of dolls and clothes in her wake. He smiled and kissed the top of Mila’s head. They’d enjoyed themselves, and at the end of the day that was what mattered. The fun and freedom of childhood was gone so quickly. He tucked Mila under the covers, smoothed her hair away from her face, and flipped off the lights before returning to the living room.

  Gemma was awake, sitting upright on the couch. His heart thudded against his rib cage as she arched her back and stretched with her arms above her head. The outline of her full, round breasts strained beneath her blouse and made him think of her body pressed against his.

  “I didn’t mean to drift off. I’m sorry.” She brushed her fingers through her dark hair and it fell in glossy folds against her cheek.

  “Don’t apologize. You did me a favor by watching Mila. I didn’t think I’d be tied up so long.” He was all too aware of his pulse thrumming

  “It wasn’t a hardship.” She smiled, the apples of her cheeks rosy and glowing. “She made me feel like a carefree girl again. We had an awful lot of fun with her dolls.”

  “I saw.” He grinned and held his hands out to her. They were so warm and soft against his. “Is it too late for coffee?” he asked.

  Gemma shook her head. “It’s never too late for coffee.” He nodded and walked to the kitchen to flip on the espresso machine.

  Gemma sat at one of the bar stools and propped her chin against her hands, watching him intently. “That was a tough one. Are you okay?”

  He leaned his hip against the adjacent counter, and let his shoulders relax. “Yes, but I feel for the kids in that situation. I never knew my father, but I imagine it would be difficult to have parents separate,” he said in an octave lower. Thank goodness the children hadn’t seen the other woman being led away. Espresso hissed into the cup below, sending the rich, slightly bitter scent into the air.

  Gemma grimaced. “With Esmerelda bearing down, it might not be front page news.”

  “That’s a nice way to look at the storm.” A smile tugged at one corner of his lip. Even though he was emotionally drained from the day, this beautiful woman could lift his spirits.

  “You mentioned your father before. What happened?” She angled her head so her hair skimmed her right shoulder, leaving the elegant curve of her neck exposed.

  “He left us.” Zale set a steaming mug in front of Gemma before fixing his own cup. “I was only a baby at the time, and my mother took it as a sign to follow her dreams to America. She’s incredible. A mother, a father, a friend.” He took a sip of the espresso and almost sighed as the hot drink slid down his throat, sore from barking out commands. What did it mean that they were both single parents? Zale had long wondered if there was something about the two of them that was difficult to live with, or if they just both chose the wrong people to love.

  “She has grit.” Gemma smiled down into her cup. “There’s nothing better than a success story.”

  Zale came to sit beside her, and she swiveled the chair to face him. The tops of their knees met and the space between them hummed with electricity.

  “It’s a shame you’ve had such little time to enjoy the island.” He leaned in and grasped her hand. When she was near, he itched to touch her, even if it was just a brush of hands. “I had a friend move my boat inland, but after the storm, I’ll sail it back to the marina. I know we said once we left Bermuda our time together would be over, but through outside circumstances, here we are. If you’re still here, I’d love if you’d join me. See some of the sights before you depart.” He tried to read her expression, but the room was still dim. Finally, she cleared her throat to speak.

  “I’d like that.” Her response was merely a whisper, but when she squeezed his hand, his doubts vanished. “But I think now I should get back to my room before it gets too late.”

  Zale nodded, placed their empty mugs on the counter, and stood with her. “Hold my hand so you don’t trip.”

  “Why not turn on the lights?” She slid off the chair, landing directly in front of him.

  “Because I want to kiss you, Gemma. Can I kiss you?” He found her mouth parted and ready, and he wound his arms around her waist. Gemma skimmed her hands up his chest and stole the breath from his lungs. How could such a simple touch make him throb with desire? He gripped her hips to drag her close. She sucked in a breath when the result of his attraction pressed against her. Gemma broke the kiss long enough to lick the lobe of his ear, and he muffled a groan against her hair. They couldn’t do this, not with his daughter sleeping down the hall. That was the whole point of their trip to Bermuda. He hadn’t meant for the kiss to heat so quickly, but with her, it
seemed beyond his control. Maybe both of their control.

  Zale released a long breath and pulled her snug against his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head. It was good to be close, even if the ache for her had grown unbearable. “I’m going to stop, before it gets too painful to let you leave. Now that you’ll be at the resort for a few more days, we’ll need to be discreet.”

  “That’s a shame.” Her hot breath against his neck sent a new wave of need careening to his core. “But I understand your position. Living onsite doesn’t give you much privacy.” She stepped back and every cell in his body screamed in protest. Zale walked her to the door, paused to kiss her cheek, and watched her board the elevator.

  “Sleep well,” he said as the steel doors closed. He certainly wouldn’t, not with her taste still lingering on his lips.

  *

  Zale opened the French doors that led to the balcony and was met with a mighty burst of wind. Squalls blew over the harbor, leaving choppy waves in their wake. He gripped the slippery rails and sucked in a breath, lining his lungs with the scents of the storm: damp earth, salt water, and an undertone of something slightly untamed. Electricity snapped in the open air as a jagged streak of lightning speared across the sky. He'd barely slept, not after Gemma had kissed him with everything she had.

  They’d explored their physical relationship with the safety net of time holding their feelings at bay. The sun-soaked afternoon and the sultry night they’d shared had frayed the lattice, leaving them vulnerable to sensations neither of them were ready for. What happened now that the clock reset, giving them at least a few more days in each other’s presence? Ocean spray rode along the whipping wind, blasting him in the face. Maybe it was nature's wake-up call to pull his head out of the clouds.

  “Daddy, get inside. The storm might blow you away.” Mila was standing behind him with both hands on her hips.

  “It would take a much bigger gust of wind, I think.” He smiled, refusing to let his problems interfere with her world, and walked back inside, closing the door with a thump behind him.

  “I can’t believe school’s really canceled. Bayview never, ever closes.” She shuffled her unicorn slipper-clad feet across the kitchen floor and hopped up on a stool at the counter.

  “Well, if you're disappointed, I can email Ms. McNulty. Maybe she’d give you some assignments to complete here.” Zale opened the pantry to get out a skillet and some instant pancake mix and nearly laughed when Mila let out an outraged gasp.

  “You wouldn’t. Besides, someone has to keep Ya-ya company, and maybe we can meet up with Gemma. Did I tell you about the funny accent she was giving all my dolls? It was hi-larious.”

  Only a thousand times. He put a pat of butter in the skillet, added water to the mix, and shook it up. When Gemma returned to Manhattan, Mila was going to be hurt. "I can't imagine that Bernadette, the proper lady that she is, enjoyed that."

  “Oh, but she did. And I made an important decision,” Mila said in that diplomatic way that told him she’d really thought this out.

  “Oh?” He flipped the golden-brown pancake and looked at Mila over his shoulder while the other side sizzled.

  “Yup. The new doll Ya-ya’s teaching me how to make? I’m giving it to Gemma as a gift, so she can come over and play with me more.” Mila watched him over her glass of orange juice.

  Zale was momentarily tongue-tied, but he managed to plate two pancakes and bring them to the island.

  “Order up,” he yelled and made Mila giggle. “You know, paidi mou, Gemma’s only here for a short visit. She has a job and a home of her own in Manhattan. It doesn’t mean she didn’t have fun spending time with you.”

  Mila busied herself cutting off a big square from one of the pancakes, then looked up at him thoughtfully. "I'd still like to give it to her, so she can think of us." She grabbed the bottle of syrup and drowned her breakfast. Outside the wind whistled, pressing against the outer walls of the Stargrass. His mother would be here any moment to stay with Mila while he checked on the hotel and the staff. He'd just finished picking up the kitchen from breakfast when the doorbell rang.

  “I’ll get it,” Mila sprinted across the room, flung the door open and screamed, “Ya-ya!” His mother carried her craft box and sewing equipment. Their projects should keep Mila entertained for the better part of the day, and safe inside while the storm raged. Zale took the items his mother held and put them down on the dining room table, while Mila sprinted off to get Bernadette.

  “It was so nice to meet Gemma the other night,” his mother said, and kissed him on the cheek. “It would be wonderful to see you dating again.”

  He looked past her and out the window as his chest hitched. The harbor was churning, and the sky was gray and dark. “She’s only visiting.” Saying the words out loud hurt, but that was ridiculous, wasn’t it?

  “Why don’t you ask her to extend her stay, see if there’s the possibility of more?” She squeezed his shoulder, and he looked back at her to find eyes lined with worry.

  “I have a business to run, and she has a whole career and empire to tend to in New York. And after Margaret, I don’t want to go down that road ever again.”

  Mila bounced back in the room with her dolls, saving him from the impending lecture he was about to receive. The one where she told him to open his heart or he'd never find true love. Was there still such a thing? A rumble of thunder rolled outside.

  “I’ve left flashlights and candles in the kitchen, just in case the generator doesn’t kick on right away. Be safe, and call if you need anything at all.” He bent down and kissed the top of Mila’s head. Her hair carried the familiar scent of her cotton candy shampoo. She was his to protect. How could he let someone in that could shatter her heart?

  After checking in with his department managers, and examining the breakfast spread for the first responders, he found himself heading toward Gemma's suite. He couldn't stay away if shackles were holding him back. He rapped his knuckles against the door, the sound of soft steps padding across the floor sounding instantly. He held his breath in anticipation of seeing her. Gemma opened the door, and his stomach was suddenly weightless. How did she do this to him? Merely looking at her made him feel euphoric. He moistened his lips and stepped closer. She was so fresh and pretty with no makeup, hair slightly mussed and piled on top of her head, and bare feet.

  “This is becoming a trend.” She motioned her hand down the length of her terrycloth wrapped body.

  “You do seem to be in various stages of undress when I visit.” He grinned. “I can’t say I mind, even though it would be wildly inappropriate to say so.”

  “Breaking one of your rules again?” She turned to walk back into the guest room, leaving the door wide open for him to follow. She paused and cast look over her shoulder, and the air evaporated from his lungs.

  “You do have that effect.” He erased the distance between them in a few strides, looped an arm around her waist, and kissed the back of her neck. He buried his face against her hair and took a deep breath, savoring her scent. She turned in his arms, so they were facing each other, and he had to fight to keep his eyes off the plunging neckline of the robe. On anyone else, it would be perfectly decent, but on her, the belt cinched at the waist reminded him that with one sharp tug the terrycloth would give way to bare flesh. “I wanted to talk to you.” The reason why escaped him at the moment, but they did have a lot to discuss. “About plans for today,” he added when she said nothing.

  “Zale.” She held a finger to his lips and pushed up against his body, only to slide down it again. He groaned, and the fabric of his trousers tightened painfully. “Let’s play a game,” Gemma tugged the lobe of his ear with her teeth, and a wave of tingles rushed down his back. The heat that smoldered at his core when she was near pulsed to life.

  “And what would that be?” His voice was an unrecognizable tangle of grit and need. Zale gripped her hips and pulled her flush against him, and her eyes popped open wide, his attraction unmis
takable.

  “The quiet game.” She covered his lips and slid her hands under his shirt to play across his toned muscles. He drew in a breath, nearly shaking with anticipation. “I tossed and turned all night thinking of you.”

  An impatient growl ripped through his throat, and in one fluid motion lifted her up and crossed the room to the bed. They could talk later.

  Zale sank into the plush mattress, still clinging to her. There were dozens of things on his agenda, especially as the tropical storm thrashed against the hotel’s exterior, but the need to claim her again was so tremendous he could do nothing else. She was sprawled out at his side, all creamy skin contrasted by dark hair and rosy lips. Taking his eyes off her would be impossible. He leaned over her, laying a path of kisses winding down her neck. Her body trembled against when his mouth trailed over the top of her shoulder. His fingers found the hastily tied fabric that belted together her bathrobe. Zale tugged it gently, and her sharp inhale made his stomach clench as he slowly parted the soft cloth. Could she hear his heart pounding out of his chest? Her gaze intensified and those rich eyes darkened until they were nearly black.

  “Kósmimá mou,” he said on a whoosh of breath. “You’re a rare beauty.”

  The color of her cheeks deepened as a delicate blush painted her skin.

  He reached out to touch the silky skin beneath the parted robe, paused. “May I?” Even though they’d already made love, he needed to ask, wanted her to be sure, because now they were choosing to come together with no restrictions or rules to protect them.

  She nodded, but her muscles tensed slightly. The sensation of her skin underneath his hands, up against his body gave him a sense of rapture he’d never experienced.

  “Breathe, love,” he said, and ran his hand down her stomach, then back up to her breasts. She sighed and arched up to meet his touch. The vibration in his back pocket barely registered until it was followed by a ring. Zale cursed under his breath. Would they ever have an uninterrupted moment at the Stargrass?