Never Say Never (Written in the Stars Book 2)

by Brittany Holland

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “You closed the deal without me.” He slithers his hand across my collarbone. “I was looking forward to making you work for it. I know that’s why they call you the closer. Because when there is a deal to be made, you can’t keep those legs closed.”

  “You’re drunk, Alan. Go to your room and sleep it off before I call your daddy over and tell him what a naughty little shit you’re being,” I threaten, even though I know it’s not the most brilliant idea. I’m shaking with anger, and nearly sick knowing what he said is partly true.

  “Not until you settle up with me.” He steps closer, knocking the sweets from my hand.

  “Get away from me!” I scream, shoving him hard. He falls backwards, landing on the ground with a thud. He lays there moaning, but I don’t stick around to see if he’s okay.

  I rush back to my room, bumping someone with my shoulder on the path, not even bothering to apologize. A chill runs down my spine, but I don’t stop until I’m locked in my suite with the safety latch is firmly in place.

  I lean over, struggling to catch my breath. My heart beat pounds in my chest like a tribal drum. I’ve pushed mean like him away plenty, but I thought I was past all thought. Tears threaten my eyes thinking about how woman have to work ten times harder to get the same respect as men.

  When I’ve calmed down a bit, I walk to the bathroom and strip. I take a hot shower, letting the scalding water attempt to wash away the shame. Shame for the way I used to be, even though tonight I did nothing wrong. When my skin is splotchy and red, the water nearly cool, I dry off and I pull on a nightshirt. Hitting the lights, I fall into bed, letting the darkness consume me.

  I don’t cry; I have no tears left—nothing to weep for myself and the men who want to use my body… I’ve wasted them on the one man who doesn’t want me at all.

  #####

  Cohen

  Hearing her cry out, I set off in a sprint. Just as I see someone ahead of me on the dark path, she brushes by me, and I nearly lose my balance. Instead of chasing after her, I continue down the path to see what has her so shaken.

  My eyes land on that little shit Anderson as he struggles to get his feet with the help if his mates. I slow down and fade back into the shadows.

  “What happened, Alan?” one teases. “Pretty blonde kick your arse, did she?”

  “No! Nothing like that. She was falling all over me. But I was just escorting her to her room for the evening, like any gentleman would have,” he lies through his teeth, and I fight back the urge to knock every perfect tooth out of his overpriced smile.

  “Sure, whatever you say, mate,” the other one says, and they both laugh. “Looks like you’re the only one doing the falling.”

  “Shut up! The both of you. I tripped on this bloody path. I’ve been telling the groundskeeper for years we need more lighting out here. It may be his job on the line if my trousers have so much as a stain. Incompetent fool,” he spits out. Spoiled little wanker may have gotten a stain on his britches, call the fucking coppers and make a report. I chuckle to myself.

  “Who’s there?” he calls out, turning around. Shit.

  “It’s no one, Alan. Come on. You’ve had too many. Let’s get you back to the main house.”

  “I just need to check—” He starts back toward the direction of the guest house. Just try it, pretty boy. Give me a reason. Fury ignites in my blood as I think about him going to her room.

  “There’s plenty of time to chase the blonde tomorrow. Let’s go see who’s left at the party. There was a table full of ladies from Enercorp still here who look like they’re waiting for a gentleman to walk them to their room.” They clap him on the back and thankfully convince him to return with them.

  That was close. I could have stepped in and taught that little shit a lesson. But then she would be stuck here, with him, the rest of the weekend, and I would be escorted from the property. I’ve done my best to stay out of the way. Another insignificant guest, a body in a crowd of business people all vying to be recognized and by the Anderson’s—all but me. I came here to find out about this deal PAN Industries was working on, to keep my ear to the ground on the rumblings of BlackWater…and for her.

  At least this way I can watch her from afar. Like I have been the past couple weeks, and continue blurring the lines between what I need to be doing and what I want to do…to her—with her.

  When I’m sure the path is clear, I walk back toward the guesthouse and my room, which is just down the corridor from hers. Stopping by her door, I place my hand on the heavy wood and listen for sound on the other side, wanting to make sure she’s locked safely away.

  The sound of water running lets me know she must be in the shower. That brings to mind a visual that will haunt my dreams. Her perfect creamy skin, turning pink from the flush of the hot spray as it drips down her perfect, lithe body. Slippery suds, slowly falling over breasts, before continuing to her trim waist and long legs. I inwardly groan, letting my head fall against the door with a thud.

  She is under my skin, but I have to keep my distance. It’s imperative. Thinking about her in ways I shouldn’t is part of the reason I nearly wasn’t here when she needed me tonight. I was off doing my best to work her out of my system, and she was nearly attacked. I wasn’t here to protect her from him. That won’t happen again. I check her door to confirm it’s locked and turn to go take a shower of my own. But who will protect her from me?

  Chapter Eight

  Scarlett

  I wake from a dreamless sleep, grateful my subconscious has decided to give me a break for once. I’ve had enough memories resurface lately to last me a lifetime. After my run in with Alan last night, I plan to stay in my room until the luau dinner tonight. Climbing from the bed, I stretch my tired muscles and walk to the large window overlooking the side gardens. The sun has just risen. I’m never up this early, but then again, I’m not used to sleeping normal hours.

  Staring out the cool glass, I contemplate climbing back into bed for the day. Coffee…I could definitely go for a cup of coffee. I know it makes me infinitely less British, but I tolerate tea, while I love coffee. My stomach growls, and I add pastries to that cup of coffee.

  Movement catches my eye, and a gorgeous specimen of a man comes into view. He’s jogging just below in the garden wearing trainers and joggers slung low on his hips, displaying his perfectly sculpted abs. I wish I liked running, had that outlet.

  I press my face to the glass, and as he gets closer, I can help but notice a dark trail running from his navel down into his joggers that matches a full head of thick ebony hair.

  Holy hell, he’s gorgeous. He’s focused straight ahead, but as if sensing someone watching, he stops and looks upward to the second story where I’m ogling him. Bollocks!

  I jerk back, pulling the linen curtain in front of my face to hide, nearly tumbling back on my arse. So much for going back to bed. Coffee it is.

  I set off in search of caffeine. Deciding there are probably very few guests up, I throw on a long chenille jumper over my sleep shirt and slide my feet into a pair of moccasin sandals. The mornings are still quite chilly this time of year.

  I try to figure out what I should do as I walk to the main house. I can’t very well leave. Anderson wanted to get business out of the way so we could enjoy our weekend.

  But I don’t feel much like celebrating since Piers is across the Atlantic with his “one true love,” and I’m stuck here fighting off tossers like Alan Anderson. He may have been the only one who actually made a pass, but I saw a few of the others looking at me like I was an easy trollop.

  I’m still fuming at how ridiculous it is that a woman has to work twice as hard to be taken serious in this business. My temper flares, and I pick up the pace, not looking where I’m going. I run smack dab into a wall. A hard wall. Sweaty.

  My breath catches as my arms flail out for support. Nothing, they grab empty air and I’m falling. Closing my eyes and bracing for impact, I land with
a thud, and the wall falls with me.

  Something very firm against my hands confirms I’m pinned down. Further exploring and a few groans later, I quickly surmise the wall is a man. A very fit, sweaty, nearly naked man who smells like spice and sweat. The runner!

  Open up earth and swallow me whole!

  I keep my eyes shut as he shifts off me, but doesn’t attempt to move completely. Throwing my arms up over my head, I hide, hoping if I stay like this he’ll go away.

  But he doesn’t. In fact, the cheeky arse chuckles at me as I stay on the ground hoping he will just disappear. I crack open one eye, risking a peek to see he’s still staring at me…well, at my chest. Where my wrap has fallen open and my ample chest is nearly on display, my nipples are saluting the cold morning air like it’s their life’s mission. Bloody hell. He probably thinks it’s because of him.

  “If you wanted a tumble in the grass, all you had to do was ask, love. No need to knock the wind from us both and throw yourself across the lawn at me.” His voice is a perfect tenor, dripping with testosterone.

  “Do you mind, sir!” I sit up, pushing him off, wrapping the soft fabric tightly around myself. He rests back on his feet and watches me, clearly amused. I struggle not to drop my own gaze and get a closer look at just where exactly that trail leads.

  “I don’t know. Do you?” he asks, and I’m reminded I asked him a question.

  “Come again?” I busy myself with picking damp grass off my sleeves.

  “You asked if I minded, and I said I don’t know. But now that I think about it, I most certainly do not mind staring at a body as exquisite as yours.” Now he’s really being cheeky. “But I asked if you did.” He stands, offering me a hand.

  “If I did what?” I accept his gentlemanly gesture, careful to hold my jumper in place.

  “Minded.” He smiles, keeping hold of my hand, and for the first time, I really get a look at his face. It’s gorgeous. Not just handsome, but like a Greek Adonis. Chiseled jaw, covered in dark stubble, a perfect faded trim leading up to a thick, almost wavy black mane. A slightly crooked nose set between eyes as blue as ocean water, but icy. Like the Nordic waters. Blinking, I focus on his question.

  “Minded what?” I smile, clearly missing something, unable to focus while he stares at me like that. Like it’s Sunday brunch and I’m on the menu.

  “Minded staring at my body.” He tries to suppress a laugh. “Earlier.” He nods toward the guest house.

  “I wasn’t—I didn’t.” My pale cheeks flame. There’s no way he could have seen me.

  “Oh, so that wasn’t you then?” He carries on as I move to walk past him, mortified to have been caught. He jogs backwards, keeping pace right in front of me.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I huff out, hoping he doesn’t detect my lie. All this for a cup of coffee.

  “Too bad,” he informs me, stopping to block my path. I look up as he reaches out and pulls at lock of golden hair that has escaped my messy bun, running it between his fingers, tugging gently. “I rather liked it.” He winks as I gently shake my head and pull free.

  Two can play this game, sweetheart. Time to teach this wanker a lesson.

  “Look. It’s obvious you’re gorgeous. I’m not blind.” I step toward him, breathing him in. “Your body is godlike, the sweat dripping off you makes me want to run my tongue from your throat to way past this…” I lick my lips and run my fingertip down the column of his throat, where I feel him swallow, lightly down his bare sternum, before coming to rest at his waistband, and dipping my finger in, snapping the elastic, my eyes never leaving his.

  “When I’m ready for a tumble, you’ll know it. You certainly won’t be cracking cheeky one liners then.” I bring my finger to my lips, licking his sweat off before I press my finger into his rock hard pec and empathizes every single word. “You. Won’t. Be. Able. To. Breathe. Much less talk.”

  Check mate. A quick glance at his joggers lets me know he got the message. He remains speechless. My work here is done.

  “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ve come down for some coffee.” I move to go around him.

  “You said when,” he calls after me, his voice slightly hoarse.

  “What?” I stop walking.

  “You said when. When I’m ready for a tumble. Not if.” He talks to my back, so I can’t see his face or the cocky smile I’m sure he’s wearing. I feel my own cheeks lift in response as I find myself smiling over something simple, silly even, for the first time in a long time.

  “So I did,” I reply, then resume walking, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. I really showed him.

  Chapter Nine

  Cohen

  After fussing with the ridiculous Hawaiian shirt in the mirror, I decide to leave the top couple buttons undone. It hurts my manhood to be seen in such an atrocious print, but after last night, I’m not keeping my distance. I need to look out for her. She’s seen me now either way, and probably expects I’m a fellow guest. If I’m going to attend, I want to at least blend in at this Luau. And wearing my signature grey and black with denim is not an option tonight. Khakis and loafers complete my business casual “weekend party” look.

  I sometimes wonder how I get myself into these situations, then I remember my earlier phone call. The reason for all of this. James. Piers. BlackWater. And now she’s in the middle of it all.

  Regardless of whether I like it, I need her. She has a part to play, and so do I. But I have a feeling this is going to be one of those games no one wins.

  I was so close to following her to her room this morning after feeling her hands pressed against my body. Her palms splayed over my chest dripping in sweat, her laying under me in the grass. Soft. Delicate.

  All it took was a simple phone call and another cold shower to remind me to get my head in the game. So I spent the afternoon doing research on my laptop. Trying to find out everything I can about Piers’ board of directors and any dirty little secrets they may be hiding. I keep forgetting the rules when I’m around her.

  After a couple weeks of watching her, I’ve come to recognize something in her that I see in myself. Loneliness.

  The longer this drags on, the more I know it’s going to be sink or swim. I’m going to have to involve her or walk away. The thought doesn’t sit well with me as I join the party.

  I scan the perimeter of the courtyard and rehearse who I am in case anyone asks. CJ James. Stock and information security specialist for Lu Tech. Which isn’t entirely a lie. Lu Tech is my company, and I specialize in security technology.

  “Aloha.” Two very flirty ladies dressed in grass skirts and coconut shells greet me at the tent’s entrance. They take turns placing strands of flowers around my neck.

  “Aloha.” I step back as one lets her palms drift down my chest in invitation. A thought catches me off guard. The only person’s hands I want on me are that of a pale blonde with legs for days. I’m not sure what to think about this reaction. I love all woman—all shapes, sizes, and colors. But since holding her in my arms, she’s all I can think about it.

  Grabbing a drink, I scan the room and instantly have eyes on her. I’m drawn to her by some unexplainable force, and when we touch, it’s like electricity. As if she can feel it too, she brushes the back of her neck and looks around. At first, I thought it was fear—her fear of being watched and my fear of being caught. Now I’m convinced it’s something more.

  She looks striking in a black halter dress, with her hair swept to one side, adorned with a flower. I see I’m not the only one who’s appreciating the view. Alan Anderson can’t take his eyes off her. I’ve turned up some rather interesting information on him. It’s amazing what breaching a couple firewalls reveals.

  My gaze flicks between the two of them—her making conversation with other guests and him staring at her like a starving man. His visual accosting of her has me on edge. He grabs a vibrant floral lei and begins walking towards her.

  Looking around, I match his pace and increase my
steps, coming to stop in front of her at nearly the same time he does.

  I don’t need to look at his face to know he’s angry. I can feel it seeping from him. Alan doesn’t like being beat, especially at his own game.

  “Scarlett, love. There you are.” I smile genuinely, reaching out for her.

  Scarlett’s eyes drift between the both of us before widening and settling on mine.

  “Aloha,” I whisper, lifting one of the leis from over my head and placing it around her delicate neck. My hands linger on her shoulders briefly, feeling the prickle of goosebumps blossoming across her bare skin.

  “Uh…thanks.” She catches on and returns the smile, gazing up at me. “Aloha yourself.”

  The little weasel clears his throat, reminding us of his presence.

  She awkwardly turns to him, and I let my hands fall. “Alan, good evening,” she says, her chilly tone speaking volumes.

  “Scarlett, you look ravishing, as usual.” His eyes rake over her body, and my hands clench into fists at my sides. “I noticed you hadn’t been laid yet.” She cringes as he lowers the flowers over her head.

  “I was coming over to do the honors myself, to be the first to lei you…at this event, of course.” He winks, and my knuckles turn white as I restrain myself. “But it seems this lucky chap beat me to it. Such is life, right?”

  She remains silent, her body stiffening next to me. He’s pushing her to make a scene—for one of us to. I refuse to give him the satisfaction.

  “We’ll catch up later, Scarlett.” He lifts his hand and runs it down the length of her arm. She holds deadly still, unblinking, in the way you freeze when confronted with a wild, untamed creature. A snake.

  “We look forward to it.” I take her hand in mine and pull her away from him. She falls against my chest, willingly, where I hold her to me.

  “I didn’t catch your name?” he huffs out. “I’m—”