She reread the newest one, then typed a reply. Thank you for your messages. Sorry I didn’t answer, but I’m wasn’t sure things between us could be fixed. I’m still not sure, to be honest, but I guess we can talk about it at dinner tonight.
The security line inched forward, and her phone vibrated. It was a text from Tara, sent from Lee’s phone. Lover boy at hotel 10 min ago! He tore outta there when I said you’re at airport. Hotttttt!
Monroe’s mouth went even drier. It was a twenty-minute ride in the shuttle. He wouldn’t get there in time. And really, why did she care? It was just a fling that had gotten cut short.
But she did care. She wanted—needed—to see him once more before she left.
A second X-ray opened. It figured.
The line halved, and she moved forward. Just ten people ahead of her now. She wondered if she should duck out, go to the end of the line. She could spare twenty minutes, even though she knew she’d feel pathetic. What were they possibly going to say to each other? Thanks for the hot sex. Have a nice life.
“Monroe?”
She turned, already recognizing that seductively rumbling voice. “Koenraad,” she said, smiling despite herself. His hair was tousled, and his clothes wrinkled. He was wearing the same clothes as the day before, in fact. But god, he was so sexy that she felt her knees actually tremble. “Your timing is impeccable,” she said weakly.
“No, it isn’t.” He stepped forward, his eyes piercing hers. “You said you’ve got vacation time. Take it. I’ll change your ticket.” He took her hand, and tingles shot through her, making her skin tighten and her breath catch. “Stay.”
She desperately sucked in air, ignoring the people around her who were openly eavesdropping. This felt like the end of a movie, but things like this didn’t happen to her. Men didn’t ask her to stay, and anyway, she couldn’t accept. “I have work tomorrow.”
Koenraad’s face dropped. “Really? You can’t…” He shook his head, then his handsome features hardened into resolve. “It wouldn’t be fair to pressure you if it jeopardizes your career. But… are you sure there’s not a way we can figure something out? I want to spend more time with you. There’s nothing I can say to change your mind?”
Change your mind. Except she knew it didn’t work quite like that. “And then what?”
“We spend time together.” He ran a hand through his blond hair. “There’s a bit of an emergency at work, so I’ll need to spend time on that. What I mean is that you’ll have plenty of space. It doesn’t have to be complicated.”
“I’m thinking about getting back with my boyfriend,” she said dully.
“The one who called you boring?” Koenraad asked, incredulous. His eyebrows gathered together and the corners of his mouth turned down.
She shrugged. “He wasn’t the only one who got personal.”
“Ok.” He dropped her hand and dug into his pocket, pulling out a wallet. He handed her a card. “As soon as you have time, I’m happy to fly you back down, no strings attached.” He stepped in and gently kissed the top of her head. “I think… it could be worth it,” he said carefully. “I know it would, at least from my end. You’re… I’ve never met anyone like you.”
That surprised her more than anything. He was the supernatural, secretive creature. What did she offer in comparison to that?
He brushed a kiss against her cheek. It was chaste, but the heat that surged between them made her head spin. “Take care of yourself,” he said, his deep voice a whisper.
Monroe watched him walk away and felt that her happiness was leaving with him. He turned at the exit, his head cocked, and studied her a long moment, then he was gone.
Her eyes brimmed with tears as she went through security. After collecting her things, she walked directly to the departure gate, ignoring the duty-free shops bursting with bargains. There was an open seat in front of the window. She took it and stared out at the runway.
She sat there feeling conflicted and sick, ignoring the texts that came in—of course texting was working perfectly now—knowing they were from her friends who were surely dying to know what Koenraad had said.
To hide her tears from the growing number of passengers crowding at the gate, she busied herself with digging for her lip balm in the bottom of her tote. The envelope from Dive Happy Caribbean seemed to take up half the bag. It also seemed to be taunting her.
She was out of self-control. She opened it.
Sosie’s camera was spectacular. The blues and whites were so crisp that Monroe could almost feel the cool spray of the water. There were photos of her sitting on the edge of the boat, her legs dangling in the water. Koenraad was in the ocean, a few feet away, looking at her with that devastating smile. Then she was in the water, her eyes closed—surely she hadn’t looked that terrified?—and Koenraad was watching her. There were photos of her snorkeling, Koenraad holding her hand. Lots of shots of psychedelic colored fish, a placid sea turtle. A picture of Koenraad just behind her, looking at her.
He wasn’t leering. Just… watching. Making sure she was safe. That she was happy.
She remembered the expression on his face right before he’d finally walked away. The way he’d studied her.
“He changed my life,” she said softly. He was the opportunity, the change, the magic. If she wanted to be happy, the next move was up to her. “I’m such an idiot.”
The woman sitting next to her leaned away.
Monroe stood, picked up her bags, and headed to the exit. The security people there gave her a funny look, but no one stopped her. As soon as she was out of the airport, she pulled out the card Koenraad had given her and dialed his number.
He answered on the first ring.
“I…” She didn’t quite know what to say.
“Where are you?” he asked.
She chewed on her lower lip. This was completely crazy. “Standing in front of the taxi stand.”
“Don’t move.”
A few minutes later he pulled up in a white convertible Audi with the top down. He jumped out without cutting off the engine and came up to her. She nearly took a step back, suddenly aghast at what she’d done, but he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her close.
He didn’t say anything, just held her a few moments, seeming to sense that she needed physical reassurance more than anything else. In his arms, her breathing slowed, evened out, and then her body went soft.
Only then did he release her, and slowly.
He opened the door for her to get in, and he put her luggage in the trunk.
His hand rested on hers as he drove away from the airport, but he still didn’t say anything, and neither did she. Even though she was nervous and still stunned by the impromptu decision, she also felt strangely comfortable. Like she’d reached the moment when she actually started living her life instead of just observing, waiting for the right moment to jump in.
He stopped the car to let a woman walking several dogs of assorted sizes and breeds meander across the road. Dog walker, Monroe guessed.
That reminded her of her own job. “I guess I’d better contact my boss. If I can get a week off, is that too—”
“Too short?” he said with a dazzling smile. “Yes. But I’ll take what I can get.”
Blushing, she dug her phone out of her bag and called her boss, who was thrilled to give her the extra time off. When she hung up, a new email from Thomas popped up. I look forward to it. Thanks for not giving up on us. You won’t regret it.
Oh. Crap.
In the rush of seeing Koenraad again and trying to decide if she should leave the airport, she had completely forgotten about Thomas. That alone spoke volumes about how she truly felt. She fidgeted, trying to decide what to write. Finally, she started tapping the screen. Thomas, I’ve decided to stay a bit longer on vacation. I shouldn’t have written my last email. It was a mistake. I was right the first time. You and I really aren’t right for each other, and I think you know that, deep down. Please don’t contact me again.
After she sent it, she gripped the phone nervously.
“Everything alright?” Koenraad asked.
She nodded. Fifteen minutes later, Thomas hadn’t replied, and Koenraad was pulling into a gated estate. Tall palm trees swayed overhead, their fronds like exploding fireworks.
“Where are we?” Monroe asked as the gates closed behind them.
“Home.” He cut his gaze to her. “I wasn’t thinking. Maybe you’d prefer a hotel?”
“No.”
“Are you sure? You said your friends are still here. Maybe you’d prefer to be with them?”
She repressed giggles. This was so naughty and irresponsible. So unlike her. “I’m sure,” she said.
“Good. As soon as we get settled, I’ll rebook your ticket.”
“You really don’t need to.”
“I want to. I’m the one who backed out on you last night and this morning. Picking up your ticket is the least I can do. Ok?” He leaned out the window and punched a code into a keypad—a second set of gates?—and the gates slowly opened.
“You can use one of my cars,” Koenraad was saying. “I’ve got a sporty convertible in the garage that I think you’ll love.”
She looked around. She didn’t even see a garage. But then, she couldn’t see the entirety of the mansion, either.
New email from Thomas. You’re upset. Let’s talk about this.
“What’s wrong?” Koenraad asked.
This was embarrassing. The way Koenraad had said, at the airport, “The one who called you boring?” now made her feel like a fool for even considering getting back together with Thomas. It made her seem pathetic. “My ex,” she murmured. “He wants to make amends.”
“What do you want?”
Monroe looked away. “I’m done with him,” she said. “I told him not to contact me again.”
Koenraad held out his hand.
“What?”
“Your phone,” he said with a smile. She handed it over, her heart thumping. He tapped out a message, then handed it back. “Problem solved.”
“What did you…” She looked at her emails. Our incompatibilities aside, I met someone else, and I’m going to explore things with him. Sorry and best wishes.
It was certainly direct.
“He’s going to be pissed,” she said, but she was wondering what “explore things” meant. That sounded like Koenraad was interested in more than sex. Which didn’t surprise her… Why else invite her to his home? But she was shocked that he could be so open about it. It seemed like a good way to end up with a broken heart. Maybe Koenraad had never had his heart broken.
Koenraad shrugged. “Better to tell a man the truth, no matter how unpleasant, and be done with it.” He grabbed her things out of the trunk, and she followed him across the bright white gravel and up six long, flattish steps. He swung the door open. “After you.”
She stepped through the wide doorway. The entrance was… grand. A curving staircase went up to the right, and a crystal chandelier hung overhead. Other than a delicate table with a Ming-type vase on it, the entrance felt empty. No junk mail, no piles of shoes, no spare keys or loose change. “Did you just move in?”
He laughed. “Guess it’s not up to snuff, then. I’ve owned it for a few years but only moved in six months ago.”
“I can see why the parties are such a hit.” When Koenraad frowned, she added, “Sosie mentioned them.”
“Not here… I keep this place private. I’ve needed to be a bit more secretive lately for security reasons.”
Before she could ask why, her phone vibrated with another email from Thomas. You met someone the last ten minutes?
“I’m happy to talk with him,” Koenraad said, his tone a little short.
She quickly shut off the phone, then dropped it into her tote, which Koenraad still held.
“Tour time.” Koenraad put down her bags.
The mansion was large but not obscenely so. Sure, it could have comfortably housed a large family plus their servants, but it wasn’t like he had an indoor tennis court.
Or maybe he hadn’t gotten to that wing yet.
“You need an ‘in case of fire’ map,” she said as they passed the ninth bathroom that looked like it had never been used.
Koenraad swung his gaze toward her, his brows dipping together. “I really only live in the bedroom and kitchen,” he said. “Plus one of the libraries in the back. It’s definitely more house than I need, but it’s secure. Tell you what. I’ll do the abbreviated tour.” He smiled, and Monroe’s thoughts pivoted from shock at how rich he was to heated desire for him, for his hands on her body.
He led her to the back of the house, and Monroe was so stunned that she simply stopped walking.
She hadn’t been aware of where the mansion was in relation to the water. Outside was clear access to beautiful ocean. The beach was empty, and while she couldn’t know if it was spoiled with footprints, the white sand looked pristine, like a travel brochure.
“It’s beautiful,” she said.
“Don’t let the gentle waves fool you. Nothing but rough water underneath,” Koenraad said. “There’s a strong current, so swimming is unadvised. Even for… strong swimmers.”
Monroe assumed “strong swimmers” meant “sharks.” She shivered. “You don’t have to worry about that with me. I don’t plan to ever go in the ocean again.”
“We’ll see about that,” he said, his rich voice sliding over her skin like silk. She remembered floating, his muscular arms around her. Yeah, she’d get back in the water for that. Hell, she’d get into lava.
He showed her the library—large but not huge… that’s what she kept telling herself—and the kitchen, which actually wasn’t enormous. She suspected there was a larger kitchen elsewhere. One with plenty of room for the professional chefs that such a mansion required.
How much was Koenraad worth, she wondered. Millions, obviously. Hundreds of millions… if he had multiple mansions and multiple boats. Billions? She didn’t care about money. Well, she did in that she needed it to survive, but a man’s wealth, or lack of, had never figured into the dating equation for her.
She wondered if his money made Koenraad a target for schemers. Probably. Was that why he’d moved out here? Extra security, he’d said. Security from what? He could turn into a shark. What did he have to be afraid of?
Then they went up a set of back stairs and down a curving hallway. They passed uncountable closed doors, two intersecting hallways, and finally an open bedroom door. Another set of stairs lay just beyond it. “If you go down those steps and walk straight, you’ll be back where we started.”
The bedroom contained an enormous bed, the linens pure white, and sliding doors that were partially open, giving access to a spacious balcony. Sheer white curtains fluttered in the ocean breeze.
The bed was partially made, and Monroe suspected it had been some time since a woman had been invited over. Maybe she was the first. There was something charming about the lack of pretension. As ridiculously huge and expensive as Koenraad’s waterfront mansion was, it didn’t feel like a status symbol.
“Can you swim in that water?” Monroe walked across the bedroom and onto the balcony. It curved over the stone terrace below.
The air was so fresh and warm, and it smelled clean. Suddenly, she didn’t want to go back home, and it wasn’t just because of Koenraad, either.
“It’s not easy,” Koenraad said. “During storms, I come ashore elsewhere, where it’s safer.” He had followed her outside, and when he put his arms around her, she leaned back against his solid body. The beautiful view had little to do with how she felt at the moment, in Koenraad’s arms. She closed her eyes to better savor the moment.
She felt secure with him. Safety wasn’t something she lacked in her daily life. Despite all the stereotypes about New York, she loved the city and felt perfectly comfortable being a single woman and living alone… so long as there weren’t any weddings on the horizon. However, being aro
und Koenraad was something else entirely.
Koenraad made her feel like everything was right in the world.
Calm filled her. Her limbs had never felt so light or her soul so at ease.
“My phone is ringing,” Koenraad said softly, reluctantly. He released her. “I’ll be back in a moment.”
She turned to watch him cross the room with long strides.
Sighing, she moved forward and leaned on the balcony’s railing. To the right, coconut palm trees swayed in the breeze. Small, manicured bushes seemed to grow out of immaculate white stones. A large iguana moved across the path, its body graceful, and she tracked it until it disappeared into the bushes.
The house itself extended to the left, but she couldn’t see the end of it because more trees blocked the view.
She looked up and saw hairy, brown coconuts hanging from the trees. She wondered if they were edible or if this was some kind of decorative species with tasteless fruit. She’d bought a coconut once. The directions had said to bake it, but she’d still had a hard time getting it open even with a hammer and a screwdriver.
“Monroe?”
She jumped, her hand on her chest. Koenraad stood so close that she could smell his warm, masculine scent, and her pulse spiked. He had changed into knee-length board shorts and a white cotton shirt that stretched over his sculpted muscles. She suddenly wished for a downpour of rain to drench him. Or for him to just take off the shirt…
His eyes, serious, bored into hers. “I need to take care of something, should only be gone about two hours. I can drop you off in town, or I can get you car keys now.”
“I don’t mind staying here.”
He frowned, and she couldn’t tell if he disliked the idea or if he thought she was being polite. She finally settled on the latter.
“Really.” She touched his arm. He was rock solid under her fingers. It made her remember being underneath him, in bed, and she dropped her hand. “I didn’t get much sleep last night, and I already spent the morning shopping.”
Touching Paradise Page 11
