Sinful Surrender
By
Elisabeth Naughton
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
CHAPTER ONE
He was here.
Grace Ryder’s hands grew sweaty as she slid into the booth in the dimly lit bar at the trendy Vail resort and placed her clutch on the table. Outside, a light snow fell, but inside, the room was warm and bustling, filled with couples and singles and some techno beat Grace couldn’t decipher filtering from speakers hidden in the ceiling. She wasn’t here for the atmosphere, though. Her stomach tightened as she let her gaze slide over the man sitting on a stool at the end of the short arm of the L-shaped bar. Let her mind wander. Let her blood run hot.
He was the kind of guy her friend Holly would call McDreamy, and every muscle in Grace’s body tightened as she took in the sight of him.
Mr. Hottie’s back was angled her way, his forearms crossed on the bar so she couldn’t make out more than a trim waist, broad shoulders that stretched beneath that black button-down, and sandy-blonde hair she bet was silky soft to the touch, but she knew it was him. She recognized the way he held himself, like he was waiting for something to happen, like he was anticipating someone’s arrival. She’d seen him around the resort when she’d ventured out of her room for a break, and in the restaurant when she’d needed to refuel. And tonight she’d caught him glancing toward the door the second she’d walked in. Caught that flash of deep blue in his eyes and that spark of interest she’d seen earlier that told her he was as aware of her as she was of him.
Normally, she couldn’t stand people watching her. But there was something electric about the way he looked at her. Something possessive. Something dangerous that excited her in a way nothing else had in a very long time.
Someone stepped in her way, blocking her view, and she leaned to her right so she could continue staring. A throat cleared, and then a voice from above asked, “Can I get you something?”
Startled, Grace looked up and realized the waitress was standing in front of her booth, pinning her with a perturbed something other than the stud at the bar look.
Warmth rushed to Grace’s cheeks, and she stiffened. “Um. Yeah.” She grasped the drink menu from the center of the table and quickly scanned it. “Ah, how about a sapphire martini with a twist.”
She was terrible at ordering drinks, didn’t even know what went into a sapphire martini or how one twisted it, but she’d heard an actor order one in a movie once and thought it sounded cool. Sapphire. Like Mr. Hottie’s eyes over there. Like the eyes she wanted to see again.
“Sure thing,” the waitress said, not bothering to write down her order. “Is someone joining you?”
“No. It’s just me.”
The waitress’s gaze slid over Grace’s black dress, then shifted back to her face. “Uh-huh.”
As she turned and headed back toward the bar, Grace ran a nervous hand over her pinned-up hair, wondering if she should have worn it down. The only time she ever got dressed up was for awards events, which she hated going to and never won. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been in a bar. Glancing quickly around the room, she noticed most of the women were decked out in sparkly jeans, stilettos, and cleavage-revealing tops. And they all had gorgeous hair hanging down to the middle of their backs. Not a single one with any kind of stuffy updo.
She looked across the room. Mr. Hottie was watching a basketball game on the TV above the bar. He lifted the pilsner in front of him and took a deep drink of the amber liquid, and she noticed then that his shirtsleeves were rolled up, his forearms tanned and muscular, and his hands—long fingers, wide palms—the kind of hands Grace guessed could make a woman beg.
He set the glass down, then turned and looked her way, and Grace’s heart lurched into her throat. Avoiding eye contact, she reached for her clutch to hide the fact she’d just been freaking staring and fumbled with the snap. The phone inside buzzed, shocking her even more, and she yelped in surprise.
Son of a… She was so out of her element, it wasn’t even funny. Her pulse raced, and perspiration dotted her spine. She grappled with her purse while her cheeks burned, finally found her phone, and stared down at the screen.
Holly. Shit.
She swiped the Answer key and lifted it to her ear. “Do you have X-ray vision or something?”
Holly Morris chuckled on the other end of the line. “Does that mean you’re in the bar?”
“Yes, I’m in the bar, you sadist.” Grace propped her elbow on the table and rubbed her aching forehead. “This was a stupid idea. I should be in my room working, not down here pretending to be something I’m not. I don’t know how I let you talk me into this.”
“You obviously want to be there, because I didn’t have to do all that much arm twisting,” Holly told her. “Is he there?”
Grace’s belly tightened all over again, and, casting a sideways look she hoped he couldn’t see, she glanced toward the bar once more. Mr. Hottie was still there, and, oh yeah, he was looking right at her.
Grace’s face burned. She pressed her hand against her forehead, covering half her vision so she couldn’t see him, and directed her gaze to the shiny wood in front of her. “Yes, he’s still here.”
“So go talk to him.”
Go talk to him. Like it was that easy. Grace was sorry she’d even mentioned him to Holly. She’d only brought him up to her friend during their last phone call because of all the weird stuff happening at home. “He probably thinks I’m some kind of psycho.”
“Why? Because you’re following him around?”
“He was following me,” Grace hissed.
Holly laughed again. “Wow, you are worked up. He must be really hot.”
He was, and Grace felt even more pathetic that a couple of quick glances from a cute guy made her lose all common sense. She exhaled a long breath. “I’m not social material right now. There’s just too much going on. Instead of playing, I need to be working. I’m just going to go back up to my room and write.”
“Gee,” Holly said in a monotone voice, “I can’t wait to hear what kind of stellar music and lyrics you come up with in your sexually frustrated mood.”
Grace blew a curly lock of hair that refused to be tamed away from her face. The waitress set her blue martini on a napkin in front of her, the exact same color as Mr. Hottie’s eyes. Grace swallowed a groan.
Lifting the drink, she took a deep sip, then cringed at the bite of gin. Yuck. She didn’t even like gin. She really needed to learn more about alcohol if she was going to drink it. “Have you heard anything from the police?”
“No,” Holly sighed. “They’ll catch him, Grace. You just need to forget about it for a few days and try to relax.”
Relax, right. Some nutjob who’d seen her on that reality show was hounding her with notes and phone calls and threatening e-mails, and she was just supposed to “relax.”
“I’m a nobody. I didn’t even make it past the third round. And it was two freakin’ years ago. Only I would wind up with a moronic stalker.”
Holly chuckled. “Oh my God. Do you hear yourself? Just the word ‘stalker’ hints at some kind of psychosis. Who knows why these guys fixate on certain people? He probably saw a rerun of the show or heard about your big deal.”
Nerves bunched and rolled in Grace’s belly when she thought of “her big deal,” and she lifted the martini and took another generous sip
. This one wasn’t as bad as the last. “I’m going to fall flat on my face, just watch.”
“No, you’re not,” Holly said in her ear. “I’ve heard your new music. You just need to refine it a little.”
Grace wasn’t so sure, but Holly’s confidence eased some of the pressure growing in the center of her chest, especially since Grace knew Holly had hoped for that big break herself, and Grace was the one who’d gotten it. While Grace didn’t have a bad voice, performing wasn’t her strong suit, and she hated the limelight. Writing was her passion, and this new deal with Royalty Records would put her music in front of mega recording stars. In as short as a year, she could be hearing her music on the radio and Billboard’s Top Forty.
Of course, that was if she ever got around to fulfilling the damn contract. She had two more songs she still had to complete, and part of the reason she’d come to Vail wasn’t just to get away from the craziness at home in Nashville, where she couldn’t focus enough to write even a single note, but to relax, suck in some fresh air, and let the scenery—hopefully—inspire her.
“What would I do without you, Holly?”
“Probably wither away and die.”
Grace smiled.
“Speaking of… I think what you really need is to get laid.”
“God Almighty, Holly.” Grace cringed and reached for her drink again. To her surprise, she found it was already empty. Signaling the waitress, she pointed at her glass, ordering another. The waitress nodded and headed for the bar. “You remember what happened the last time I got involved with someone. And this guy could be my moronic stalker for all I know. A man is the last thing I need right now.”
“You don’t need a man, Grace, just sex. There’s a big difference.” When Grace huffed, Holly added, “Look, no one knows you went up there, so I’m pretty sure McDreamy can’t be your guy. And if you use a fake name, he’ll never be able to find you after. God knows it’s time you did something to take the edge off so you can be creative. That is why you’re there, right?”
“To have sex?”
“No, to be creative, smartass.”
Grace frowned.
“Is McDreamy still in the bar?”
Grace’s nerves kicked up again, and she glanced to her right. “Yeah, he’s still here.”
“Does it look like he’s with anyone?”
Her gaze slid over him once more, and warmth bloomed in her belly again. He reached for a pretzel from a bowl to his right with those deliciously long fingers and popped it in his mouth. His thighs were thick and muscular against the barstool, and she had an insane desire to see his ass filling out those sleek black slacks. When a woman with long blonde hair, big tits, and a tiny waist slid onto the stool next to him, he barely spared her a glance.
Good boy.
“No,” she said, excitement churning in her belly, “I think he’s alone.”
“So go hit that before someone else does.”
The waitress set Grace’s drink on the table and took her empty away. Grace mouthed a thank-you while her stomach flopped around like a fish out of water. “I don’t know.”
“What don’t you know?”
“It’s not me.”
“Grace.” Holly’s voice took on the mother-tone, as Grace liked to call it, and Grace could easily picture her friend standing with her hands on her hips, her red hair a wild tangle around her face, pinning Grace with those hard, brown eyes like she so often did when they argued about music and lyrics and the direction of a song. “I’m not going to let you blow your big shot. You need to write. But you’ve been there three days already and haven’t gotten anything done. The only way you’re going to settle down and get to work is if you release some pent-up energy. So go over there, drag McDreamy back to your room, fuck his brains out, and stop wasting valuable time.”
Leave it to Holly not to sugarcoat the situation. A trait Grace used to appreciate. “I don’t even know what to say to him.”
“Tell him…” Holly considered for a moment. “Tell him he’s got the most beautiful eyes you’re ever seen. That’s not a lie, and guys love flattery. Then just see where it goes from there.”
Grace drew in a deep breath and looked toward the bar again. Mr. Hottie caught her gaze, and their eyes held for just a moment before he looked away once more.
Holly was right. His eyes were the most beautiful blue she’d ever seen. But that wasn’t what ignited a burn deep in Grace’s belly. It was what she’d seen in those eyes when his gaze had held hers. Heat. Curiosity. Interest. The same damn things she’d seen every time he’d looked her way over the past few days.
Before she lost her nerve, Grace pulled the pins from her loose bun and shook out her hair. Dark curls fell around her face, but she didn’t worry about how they looked. She stuffed the pins in her bag, threw back the rest of her drink, and reached for her clutch as she scooted out of the booth. “Okay, I’m going in. If you don’t hear from me in twenty-four hours, call the cops.”
Holly chuckled. “Just don’t burn so hot you set off any fire alarms. And have fun, girlfriend. You’ve earned it.”
* * *
Brian Walker’s phone buzzed just as the Nuggets sank a three-pointer from half court. Tugging the cell out of the pocket of his slacks, he looked down at the screen, then frowned when he saw that the message was from Jake Ryder, his boss at Aegis Security.
RYDER: Did you find her?
Brian lifted the beer, took another long swallow, then typed in his response.
WALKER: Yeah. No sign of trouble. Think you’re imagining things.
RYDER: Not imagining anything. Stick close to her. Cops still haven’t picked the guy up, and she’s too bullheaded to listen to me. Just don’t let her know I sent you. I’ll never hear the end of it.
Brian couldn’t blame the girl for not wanting to listen to her domineering, older brother. Though Aegis Security was the best of the best, Jake Ryder was a hard-ass. The former Navy SEAL ran his security company as tight as any ship, and Brian wasn’t the only operative on the team who was thankful he didn’t have to deal with Ryder’s surly attitude on a daily basis. He didn’t have a clue how Ryder’s assistant—Marley Addison—put up with him day after day after miserably long-ass day.
Not particularly wanting to listen to Ryder himself right now, Brian typed “Okay” into his phone and set it down. He hated the fact he was here right now, but even with his yanked vacation, this gig was a thousand times better than being stationed in Iraq or Afghanistan or some third-world hellhole. The money was also head and shoulders above his former Delta Force pay. And—a small part of him hated to admit—it beat the hell out of spending the next week alone, pondering all the ways he’d fucked up his life.
Reaching for his beer again, he looked up at the basketball game on the screen above the bar and wished like hell he hadn’t had to give up his tickets to tonight’s game. Ryder owed him for that. Owed him for making him haul his ass out to Vail in the snow to play babysitter too.
“You like basketball?” the blonde to his right said. “I do too. In fact, I like all kinds of games that involve…balls.”
Brian glanced over his glass and took in her big hair, heavily made-up face, and overly revealing top. Clearly on the prowl, offering to fuck him blind if he wanted, and twenty-five, tops. Yeah, he just bet she liked balls in all shapes and sizes. Too bad he wasn’t interested. “I’m more of a hockey fan, myself. You know, big stick, coming in the crease and all. That’s really more my thing, if you know what I mean.”
The blonde’s eyes narrowed. “But… You don’t look gay. I didn’t pick up any gay vibe, and I’m usually really good at noticing.”
“Sorry, darlin’.” He shrugged like there was nothing she could do about it.
Scowling, the blonde reached for her fancy drink and frowned. “The good ones are always married or gay.”
Married wasn’t something Brian wanted to think too much about, especially since the blonde reminded him way too much of his ex, Robin
, and not simply because she was young. Forcing it from his mind, he chuckled as she moved down the bar to the next unsuspecting schmuck, then reached for his beer. Someone slid onto the seat at his left, but he didn’t bother to look.
The Blazers snagged the rebound and charged down the court for an easy layup, taking their lead to ten. Brian lifted his beer again and sighed. Maybe he wasn’t that upset he’d given up tonight’s tickets.
“So,” a woman said beside him, “I don’t normally do this, but, um, you have the hottest thighs I’ve ever seen, and I…I just wanted to tell you how gorgeous they are. I’ve sort of been staring at them all night.”
Brian nearly choked on his beer. That was a new one, even for him. He turned his head, then froze.
Ryder’s sister. And his anonymous assignment. Fuck.
He had not seen that one coming. Ryder had told him Grace was a wallflower, and while he’d been surprised to see her in the bar tonight, once he’d caught sight of her all gussied up in that cocktail gown, he’d expected her to be waiting on someone Ryder didn’t know about. Someone who might make this suck-ass assignment just a little more interesting. He definitely hadn’t predicted she’d stalk over here and start hitting on him.
Play it cool.
Slowly, he lowered his glass to the bar, then looked her over from head to toe, like he hadn’t been able to do from a distance. Dark, shoulder-length hair that curled in all different directions, a small nose, high cheekbones, and full lips. She didn’t look a thing like Ryder, not that Brian had expected her to, considering they had different mothers, but he was glad. Her body was slim, her legs long, and even though she was dressed a little fancy for a place like this, she filled out that black dress to perfection. She also smelled like a summer rain, which he definitely liked. But while he couldn’t deny he felt a tinge of arousal taking her all in up close like this, she was still in her early twenties and definitely not someone he was interested in other than as a part of his job.
“Thanks,” he said when his gaze slid back to her eyes. Dark, almost black eyes. Mysterious. Those were definitely like Ryder’s. “Your thighs are nice too.”
Aegis Security 02 - Sinful Surrender Page 1
