by Ali Parker
As if the ocean knew I was on a timeline, it shrugged beneath my board, gently rocking me up and then down as it crested and rolled out toward the shore.
I grinned. “I think we’re getting our ride, boys.”
My friends straightened up, and for a few silent minutes, the four of us gazed out at our stretch of ocean; our paradise that ran off toward the skyline for miles and miles in front of my beachfront mansion. This was our private surfing area, and I’d had the house specifically built here so I could come out to this shore whenever I damn well pleased and catch waves.
A ripple in the surface about a quarter mile out caught my eye, and I started turning my board back toward the shore. The others followed suit, and we watched over our shoulders as it crept closer, picking up speed and height as it came until it fully formed behind us.
We paddled like mad and fanned out. The wave was close to breaking.
It caught up to us, and at the last possible moment, I popped up, planted my feet, kept my knees bent, and dipped the board down and to the right. I caught the wave as it white capped and broke, forming a two-foot tall tunnel behind me as I rode the front.
The others didn’t make it as far as I did. They never did.
The wave swallowed them as I rode her wide and into shore, stepping off my board as the rush of water foamed in the shallows. It washed over my head, and I stayed under, ears humming with the rush of water and the grainy whisper of the sand dancing across the ocean floor beneath me.
When I broke the surface, I hoisted myself up onto my stomach on my board and paddled to the shore. Once it was shallow enough, I walked the rest of the way. The ocean continued to tug and pull around my legs as if beckoning me to return to it.
And did I ever want to.
But there was always tomorrow.
Mitch, Davis, and Luke were still out on their boards. I threw a hand in the air to wave, and they hollered “good luck” to me as they paddled back out to our sitting point.
The sand underfoot was hot as I made my way up the beach, but it was a heat I’d grown used to after living there for the last four years. My house loomed up above, set back from the beach by only fifty feet and built up high on a miniature mountain of rocky foundation to spare it from any potential flooding. It stood there like a modern castle, all glass and white-concrete frame, proudly planted on the most expensive slice of land in Nassau.
And she was all mine.
I was halfway up the beach when a tight body in a neon-yellow bikini caught my eye. She was spectacular. And she caught my eye as she approached and offered me a coy little smile that pressed dimples into her tanned cheeks.
“Why hello there,” I purred.
She stopped walking. Sand speckled her ankles, which were both wrapped in glittering silver chains, and her toes were painted a bright shade of pink that matched the color on her fingertips. A silver belly chain hung around her hips and connected to a sparkly piece of jewelry in her navel that matched the pieces on her ankle.
She was a summer goddess, sun kissed, with golden hair and eyes the color of the ocean at night.
She bit her bottom lip and batted her lashes bashfully at me. “Hi.”
A shy little minx. One of my favorites in bed. Soft spoken and meek in public, but wild and greedy in the bedroom.
If Piper wasn’t coming to my place this month, I’d have already slapped some pickup lines on this hottie and invited her up to my place. And judging by the way she was looking at me, it would have been an easy yes.
“Do you come here often?” I asked, already thinking down the road. If I couldn’t have her in July, maybe I could have her in August. She’d be even more bronze by then.
Delicious.
There were several reasons I’d moved to the Bahamas four years ago, but fit, tanned women in bikinis that covered barely anything was definitely reason numero uno.
“I’m here for another week,” she said with a sweet smile. Her dimples were maddening.
“Damn,” I breathed. “Can’t swing it, sweetheart.”
She was missing out.
She frowned as if taken aback by my confidence. “Swing it?”
“On any other day, you and I might have been able to have some fun together. You know. Some drinks. Maybe a bit of dancing. A walk on the beach that ends with both of us naked in the water at midnight. That sort of thing.”
She ran a finger along her collarbone and then down to the fabric of her bikini. “Oh?”
I chuckled deeply. I’d called it. She was a minx. A freak in the bedroom for sure. I could tell by the hooded look in her deep eyes. “Oh yes.”
Her cheeks turned bright pink.
I brushed past her, my shoulder gently grazing hers, and I heard her feet shift the sand underfoot as she turned to watch me leave. Having a woman look longingly after me would never get old.
As I made my way back to my house, I considered how unlucky I was. The blonde girl on the beach was a solid nine and a half. Near perfect. And I was flushing my shot with her down the drain because of the Casanova Club.
I should have left well enough alone when Jackson Lee first reached out to me to invite me to the club for interviews. It would have been better to keep going with my life the way it was.
But even a playboy billionaire got bored. And sometimes, you had to throw a wild card into the mix.
Of course, I was hoping for something a little wilder than Piper James.
Sure, she’d showed up in leather pants and killer red lipstick, but I could see right through her.
She was the girl next door, nothing more. And this bachelor didn’t go for girls like that.
CHAPTER 3
PIPER
I could see why the word “billionaire” was used as an adjective to describe Cooper Diaz, the richest man in Nassau.
His house was not a house at all, but rather a generous, sprawling, obnoxious testament to his bank account.
I stared up at it through the back window of the luxury town car that had picked me up from the airport. My breath fogged up the glass as my driver, a woman in a pinstripe business suit with short, slicked-back blonde hair named Talia, twisted around in her seat to look expectantly at me.
She was severe looking and intimidating, and she’d told me on the drive over that we would probably see more of each other over the course of the month. I assumed she meant because she’d be driving me all over the island.
“We’re here,” Talia said flatly.
I interpreted her words to mean, get out of the car so I can leave.
I licked my lips. “Um. Can you point me in the right direction of the front door?”
Talia didn’t laugh. She didn’t strike me as a woman who laughed much, really. But her mouth quirked, and I sensed a little softness from her, which I appreciated.
I was super intimidated.
Talia pointed between the two front seats toward the house and tipped her chin. “You see there, between the baby palms?”
“Baby palms?” I followed the line she made with her index finger until my gaze settled on two short palm trees with wide trunks. “Yes.”
“Go between those. Follow the path down a set of stairs. Follow the bend. The front door is right around the corner on the side of the house. Mr. Diaz appreciates his privacy.”
“Privacy?” I almost scoffed. How could such an eyesore of a house ever be considered private? It didn’t matter how high a fence was built around it. There would be prying eyes.
I opened the back door of the car anyway and paused to lean in. “Thank you. I’ll see you around.”
“Don’t forget your bags in the back.”
Right. My bags. My bags which I would apparently be solely responsible for moving into the house. Three massive suitcases’ worth.
“Thank you,” I said again, for no apparent reason. There wasn’t much to be thankful for. Talia had been reserved and quiet for the duration of the drive, only speaking when spoken to, and I was left to spend the half hou
r from the airport to Cooper’s agonizing over what the month was going to be like.
And so far, it was shaping up to be just as disappointing as I’d anticipated.
My sandals slapped on the hot asphalt as I moved around to the back of the car to the popped open trunk, and lugged my three massive bags out of it to line them up on the path in front of Cooper’s house. As soon as the latch on the trunk closed, Talia’s brake lights went out, and she pulled away, leaving me in the scorching heat with my three heavy bags and an even heavier heart.
“Where’s a gentleman when you need one?” I pouted to myself, staring down at my row of bags.
Talia had said something about stairs, too. It looked like I was going to be bringing the bags down one at a time.
I started with the heaviest and tried not to think about how horrified the other men I’d spent time with so far this year would be to learn I had half pulled, half carried my own suitcases to the front door of Cooper’s mansion.
It wasn’t a short little walk either.
His front door was fairly far down the side of the house and through a winding garden of tropical plants of various colors and shapes and sizes, and by the time I had all my bags set up at the front door, I was dripping with perspiration and feeling anything but cute.
Regardless, I was there, and I wasn’t going to bother trying to fix myself up for Cooper’s benefit.
I rang the doorbell and waited.
And waited.
And waited.
I planted my hands on my hips as a gentle breeze picked up and caught the hem of my dress. “Are you fucking serious?” I mumbled, peering back and forth down the path through the gardens.
The jackass wasn’t even home?
I could hear Joshua musing over how unsurprising this was.
And Aaron teasing how at least his entrance wasn’t this bad.
Jeremiah would have just been furious that I was made to wait.
Miles would have been offended, too. “Quietly irked” were the words that came to mind.
And Easton?
Well, he probably would have seen this coming and given me the heads-up in advance.
Wyatt would have silently stewed, jaw set in an angry line, and he likely would have waited here on the spot until Cooper showed up so he could give him a piece of his mind. Or his fist.
Seeing as how none of my gentlemen were here to fight for me, I decided to take action and set off down the path around to the back of the house. My temper was as hot as the weather as my sandals slapped obnoxiously over the paving stones laid in the grass. I emerged from the shadow cast by the monstrosity of a house in an immaculate backyard. Everything was green and lush, and beyond and below was a pristine white sand beach.
And the ocean. A beautiful turquoise ocean. It reminded me of my time in Rarotonga with Miles. Good Lord, how I wished he was the one here with me instead of Cooper fucking Diaz.
I stopped to admire the yard. There was an in-ground infinity pool and a staircase to the right that led down to the beach. A cabana to the right hosted a bar that I imagined was used for bumping parties in the evenings. Lawn chairs with plush cushions littered the garden and patio around the pool, and in one of the lawn chairs was a man.
Cooper himself. And damn him for how good he looked in that chair.
The chair was on the lowest setting, so he was almost lying completely flat on his back. His hands were clasped behind his head, showing off arms that rippled with muscle and were heavily inked in swirling black tattoos. He was shirtless, and I was suddenly very parched as I traced every ab with my eyes.
Whoa.
Cooper was the kind of sexy you only saw in the movies. And not all the movies. Only the select few. Like your sexual awakening movies.
Every girl had that moment where a leading man came on screen and, suddenly, she feels very different. And she can’t stop thinking about him for ages. Weeks. Months. Years. He would be this all-consuming entity to her—and yes, cartoons counted too—and she would create this idea of who he was as a person in real life. He was dreamy. And charismatic. And wise. And romantic. Obviously.
My sexual awakening?
Easy. Jeff Goldblum from the first Jurassic Park in his black leather pants, sprawled out on a metal table while his injured leg was tended to. Oh, and did I mention his shirt was mostly undone?
Yeah, well…
Cooper was making me feel like that with his chiseled, tanned body. He was powerful but not in a scary way. His muscles were purposeful and well earned. And the tattoos? Well, the tattoos were just icing on the cake.
I made my way across the pool patio to go stand close to his chair and see if he was awake.
He didn’t stir. He stayed exactly where he was, his eyes hidden from me by black Ray Bans, his chest rising and falling with slow, controlled breaths. I swallowed and wet my lips.
Was I supposed to wake him up? And if I let him sleep, how long should I stand around waiting for him before I finally threw in the towel and asked him to let me in his damn house?
I could always just find one of my bathing suits and take a dip in the glorious pool. It was probably the nicest pool I’d ever seen. The view was pretty good too.
Of the ocean. Not the hot guy sleeping on the lounge chair. Although it wasn’t that big of a con.
I let out a long sigh and hung my head back. I was about to turn and walk away when Cooper himself let out a sigh to match mine. “Like what you see, Princess?”
Oh God. He was one of those guys.
I blinked at him and shielded my eyes from the sun. “Um. It’s a very expensive view. I could get used to it.” I intentionally referred to the ocean, rather than him.
Cooper chuckled and propped himself up on his elbows. I did my very best not to look down at his abs as he peered up at me over the top of his sunglasses. “You and I both know that’s not what I was talking about.”
I didn’t say anything.
Cooper swung his legs over the side of his chair and stood. He was impressively tall—taller than I remembered. He probably came in at around six-foot-three, possibly six-foot-four, and when he wasn’t lying down, it seemed like there was a hell of a lot more mass to him. His shoulders were broad, his waist narrow, and his forearms? Drool worthy.
I had never wished a man was ugly so much in my entire life as I stared up at his cocky smile.
“Welcome to the best stop on your twelve-month adventure.” Cooper grinned. He threw his arms out wide as if to encompass his property, his house, and the beach. “Bet you haven’t seen anything like this yet, huh, Princess?”
Great. Modesty and pet names within the first five minutes.
Things were off to a great start.
CHAPTER 4
COOPER
All right, I had to give credit where credit was due.
Piper was hot.
But it was more of a “girl next door” sort of way than anything else, and that didn’t get me all hot and bothered under the collar. But her little summer dress was doing her a lot of favors. It showed off her slim waist and curvy shape, and I’d be a liar if I didn’t note that she had the most gorgeous set of legs I’d ever seen.
And that was saying something. Because I’ve seen a hell of a lot of legs in my day.
Her dress was the palest shade of blue, with tiny little yellow flowers on it. It was sweet, and innocent, and pure. Just like her.
Or that was what she wanted me to think.
Either way, I didn’t give a damn because second to surfing, one of my all-time favorite hobbies was corrupting good girls like Piper James and showing them what it was like to walk on the wild side.
The Diaz side.
“Did you bring a suit with you?” I asked, wondering where the hell her luggage was.
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“My bags are at your front door. I didn’t want to lug them around with me while I came looking for you.”
Was she giving me attitude?
The shortness of her tone suggested she wasn’t happy that she’d had to look for me. And I liked a girl with a bit of sass in her bones.
“The front door was unlocked,” I said.
Piper blinked dubiously at me. How adorable. Then she straightened up and shook her head. “I wouldn’t just walk into your place.”
“My place is your place for the month. Make yourself at home.”
She narrowed her big brown eyes at me. I had half a mind to tell her how cute she was when she was upset, but I’d used that line on girls before, and it never ended well for me.
Well, that wasn’t true. Sometimes, it did. Other times, it just meant I had to work a little harder to make them forget about the snide comments and remember how hot and rich I was.
I gave her my best smile. “Why don’t you run and grab your suit, change, and come back out here and join me? We could go for a dip before the sun goes down.”
Piper peered over my shoulder at the ocean, and I saw the way her eyes lit up.
So, she was a water girl. That was good news, at least.
“Where can I change?” she asked.
“Through the front door. Washroom is down the hall on your right. Help yourself to anything inside.”
She gnawed at the inside of her cheek as her eyes flicked from me to the expanse of azure waters over my shoulder. What girl in her right mind would say no to that?
Finally, she gave me a curt little nod, turned, and headed back around the side of the house to fetch her things. I could have gone with her. And maybe that was why she’d hesitated. She was waiting for me to pick up my feet and help her bring her bags in.
I wasn’t that guy.
Every other guy she’d been with so far had surely treated her like she was a queen. They’d probably kissed the ground she walked on.
That wasn’t my style. Never had been. And not because I was too good to do so, but because there was nothing more unattractive to me than a woman who expected me to do everything for her.
