Seduction in the Sun: Adult Romance Box Set (9 Sizzling Tales with BBW, Billionaires, Bad Boys, and Alpha Males)

by Hawkeye, Lauren

  “I’m taking a huge chance with you, Dana. This wedding is my biggest event in years and it’s not going to be an easy one. I need help and I don’t have the time to interview countless wedding planners. You’re it. I really have no other choice.”

  I remembered the way she had bit down on her bottom lip as if to prevent herself from further insulting me, but I knew exactly what she was feeling. She was desperate to get herself out of the corner she had put herself in. Originally, she had wanted to handle the affair entirely on her own. Her workaholic nature, her absolute obsessive controlling “do it all” personality was battling the fact that she simply couldn’t do it on her own. She wouldn’t have hired me otherwise. She knew it, and I knew it.

  I’d had a series of low paying jobs since college, waitressing the most recent, stringing them together to make ends meet. A hospitality degree from community college didn’t get me very far in this economy, but it was apparently enough to get me the job with Vienna. I’d had those post-college dreams of starting my own quaint bed and breakfast upstate, but they were fading fast. I love the industry, the whole idea of helping people enjoy their holidays, but I was never quite in the right place at the right time when it came to landing a job. Until now.

  “We have only three days before the wedding. So, here’s the plan when we land.” Vienna dragged me back again to the here-and-now, her ever-present leather-bound notebook open on her lap, reading glasses perched on the end of her perfect nose.

  “We land in about an hour. You’ll have time to freshen up in your room and then I’ll need you to be ready to work. Here.” She handed me a printed map, a bewildering array of shapes, squares and octagons, all neatly labeled with numbers. And then she dropped a wireless microphone on top of the map.

  “Wear this, at all times.” She turned her head and I saw a matching microphone attached to her diamond earring-clad ear. I nodded, fumbling with mine, moving it into place and feeling for the on-off button.

  “This is quite the place.” I studied the map, trying to familiarize myself among the pastel-colored shapes. “Who did you say owns the island, again?”

  It was Vienna’s turn to sigh. “Nigel Branford. You have heard of him, haven’t you? He’s only the wealthiest British entrepreneur in the world. He owns this island and several others. A bit eccentric, but aren’t they all? This...” she stabbed at the map with an immaculately manicured fingernail “...is Breaker Island. Here, it’s all written down.” Another paper fluttered onto my lap.

  “Ah, okay, got it.” Or I hoped I did. I found my room and the main villa on the map, tracing a line between the two. It was a very long line. I swallowed another sigh. Best guess was at least a twenty-minute walk from point A to point B.

  Sometimes Vienna’s great at reading minds. “There will be a golf cart for you to use, so you’re not late or disheveled from walking.” She eyed me over the top of her glasses, one eyebrow raised. It was my turn to read her mind.

  One of the first things she’d gone over, after I was hired, was my wardrobe. Nothing I owned seemed appropriate in her eyes. Granted, most of it involved waitress uniforms and faded old jeans, but I did own a couple of dresses and skirts. But she’d been crystal clear – she wanted a more professional look for me. So I found my curvy frame being stuffed into an ill-fitting blazer, paired with one of my black skirts and a simple white blouse, already uncomfortable in the air-conditioned plane. Blazers were not exactly figure flattering over my curves and I dreaded the thought of wearing this polyester straightjacket in the heat and dreadful humidity on the island.

  Lord have mercy.

  “I’m going to need you to be feet on the ground, or, in this case, wheels on the ground. You’ll find a golf cart at your room.”

  “Yeah, okay. Sure.” I have yet to own my own car, so the golf cart would be my first set of wheels. I tried to remember what I’d learned in driver’s education, but Vienna was already forging ahead.

  “Here’s the information on the families. We’ve gone over this, but it pays to be prepared. You can read through this on the rest of the flight. You’ll be responsible for greeting some of the guests and taking them to their villas, so you might want to pay special attention to this list. Not the bride or groom. I’ll be handling them personally.”

  The guest list in my hand ran three pages long. And that was, as far as I could tell, just the immediate family.

  My family is small and our whole extended family barely fills the first few rows of any church. This had my mind reeling.

  “I’ll expect you to be familiar with the family names, from the attached descriptions and pictures. Study it all. Obviously there’s the bride and groom, her immediate side only has her mother...which is a rather sad story. But the groom has both parents attending, and one set of grandparents coming along as well. Pay special attention to the names of the men...”

  I had flipped open the folder with the pictures and Vienna’s voice completely disappeared. There was a photo of the bride and groom - their engagement photo, by the looks of it.

  The bride, Claire Latham, rested her head on the groom’s broad shoulder. She was tall, almost taller than he was in the photo, willowy and blonde, her smile just a touch less dazzling than the diamond engagement ring she was trying very hard to showcase. Her left hand rested stiffly on her groom’s chest, the ring tilted toward the camera.

  I drew in a sharp breath, eyes drawn to the groom. Nathanial Benjamin Carter. The third. Oh, he went by Ben according to the notes. Better, definitely not quite so stodgy sounding. The name certainly didn’t suit the face that I was looking at, but Ben did.

  He was incredibly good looking, his smile a bit more reserved than hers, his arm around the bride’s shoulder. He matched Claire in the good looks department, his short sandy hair a few shades darker than her sun-bleached waves. They made a good-looking couple in a very...very upper class, tennis-whites-on-weekend in the country club kind of way. I imagined there was a riding stable and beautiful horses around on those weekends as well, at a country house that was further away from New York City than I’d ever been in my entire life.

  He was looking directly at the camera, with a strong, steady gaze. But there was a different look about him – a look of mystery mixed with strength that only comes from quiet confidence. Something beyond just sparkling baby blues and a handsome face. He has the kind of eyes that looked at you and then into you. Your soul instantly captured. The kind of look that, against your better judgment, would take your breath away, leaving you fantasizing about all of the heroes you used to read about in the countless romance stories of your teenage years, reminiscing about your first kiss and wondering what it would have been like it if were with someone that looked like him. Are you kidding, Dana? I thought to myself. All from a photograph?

  I ran my finger slowly over his image, finally letting out all those sighs I’d been holding in. He was a prince, with his princess, looking forward to a fairytale wedding.

  But if that was the case, why didn’t the smile on his face reach all the way to those impossibly blue eyes?

  * * *

  The plane touched down, bouncing lightly on the runway, rolling to a smooth stop in front of a small glass-fronted building that appeared to serve as a terminal. The door sprang open and we were instantly greeted by an older man, short and stocky, wearing what appeared to be a safari outfit, complete with pith helmet. I blinked in the bright sunlight as I descended the stairs from the plane, not quite sure of what I was seeing. He hurried toward us and Vienna stepped forward ahead of me, wearing her professional business smile.

  “Miss Saunders, I presume. So good to finally meet you in person.” He shook Vienna’s hand before turning to me.

  “And...oh, I’m sorry, dear. I don’t know your name.” The English accent was cheerful and it made me smile. I accepted his outstretched hand.

  “Dana...Dana Marshall.”

  “Dana, lovely name, dear.” He gave my hand a hearty shake and then stepped
back, rubbing his hands together, his face wreathed in a huge smile. I liked him immediately. His unassuming and rather quirky nature was engaging. I’d been a bit intimidated by the thought of meeting a billionaire and one who owned his own island, but so far, so good.

  “I’m Nigel Branford. Welcome to Breaker Island. I like to greet all my guests personally, if I can. And I’m so excited that you’re here to help with the planning of this extraordinary wedding for our lovely couple. I’ve known Ben ever since he was just a wee lad. They haven’t arrived yet, due later today. Come with me, I have all the information you’ll need.”

  I knew Vienna had all the arrival information, down to the last second. It was outlined in scrupulous detail in the folders we both carried, but she deferred to Mr. Branford, something I’d rarely seen her do with anyone. I followed behind them as we walked across the tarmac.

  He led us through the glass doors into the building. Our pilot was busy chatting with a pretty young woman sitting at a desk, a few people walked about, but otherwise it was unexpectedly calm.

  “Here it is.” He shuffled papers on a desk and finally produced a printed sheet, which he promptly handed to Vienna. She scanned the page, frowned and then turned to face him.

  “Thank you. Unless you have further need of us, we’ll get settled and get to work. I know Dana has a great deal on her plate today. She’ll be handling the transport of guests to their villas, getting them settled, and so forth. After you greet them, of course.”

  “Brilliant.” Branford turned to me, practically beaming. “Then I shall be seeing a great deal of you today, my dear.” He motioned to someone behind us.

  “James will take you to your respective rooms and help get you settled. Dana, I’ll see you back here shortly.”

  And with that, James, a tall silent man dressed in impeccable white linen, promptly whisked us out the door, our bags easily tucked under his arms.

  The sun was hot as we stepped out of the small building, but the view took my breath away and I forgot how uncomfortable my jacket had become. From the air, the island was nothing more than a dot of green with an edge of golden sand beach. But here, up close, it really was a paradise.

  Deeply shaded paths headed off in several directions and I was relieved to see discrete signs pointing the way to different villas and buildings. James quickly loaded our luggage and we climbed into what had to be the largest golf cart I’d ever seen. Painted a deep green with Breaker Island in restrained lettering on the side, it resembled a mini Hummer, complete with the wide chrome grill and shiny rims.

  If I had my trepidations about driving a golf cart to begin with, they certainly doubled now. This thing was a behemoth compared to the little carts I’d seen bumping along at the public golf courses. This cart could easily hold six people, plus luggage. And forge a river if necessary.

  I tried to lean forward and watch what James was doing with the controls, but I’d been relegated to the back seat and couldn’t really see much of what was going on up front. So I settled back, and tried to focus on enjoying the view, hoping that I’d be able to figure it all out later on. I was a quick study, but as usual I was stressing.

  Incredibly beautiful flowers of all colors bordered the paths leading between villa, a riot of blooms, all against the green of palms and other tropical trees. Birds flitted through the lower branches of the trees, making all kinds of exotic noises.

  We wound our way down a narrow path and James pulled up and expertly parked in front of a small building. The sign on the door announced it was the Palm Villa. I wondered if this was Vienna’s or mine. My trusty map was safely tucked away at the moment, but the answer was soon made clear as Vienna climbed out of the cart and James dutifully retrieved her luggage from the back.

  “There’s been a change of plans.” Vienna held out the sheet Nigel had given her as James climbed the wide steps to the villa. “Apparently the bride and groom...Claire and Ben...are arriving on separate flights, instead of together. But they’re not arriving at the same time. Not sure what happened or why someone didn’t call me. But this means I’ll have to take Claire to her villa and you’ll take Ben to his.”

  There was just a hint of panic in Vienna’s voice. I nodded. “That’s fine. Not a problem at all.” But the crease of Vienna’s forehead, and the squint of her eyes told me she thought otherwise.

  She peered at me over the top of her reading glasses. “The plan was that I was going to take both of them to their villas at the same time, but I can’t leave one at the terminal waiting for me.”

  “I understand Vienna. Really, I’m fine taking the groom to his villa.” I would be fine, once I figured out how to work the golf cart. Maybe I could get a quick lesson from James on the way to my villa.

  “I’m not exactly sure you understand, Dana. I’m the wedding planner. They know me and expect to see my face when they step off the plane. Not yours. You’re the nameless assistant, like the caterer, the florist, like...” She waved her hand over her shoulder at the villa as James disappeared through the door.

  “James?”

  “Who?” She looked up at me, startled.

  “James. The man who drove us here, his name is James.” I hopped down from the backseat, moving into the front seat of the cart.

  She frowned at me again. “My point is, they don’t know you, don’t have any rapport with you. Claire, especially, is very high-strung. I don’t want her upset in any way. And Ben, well, he’s easy going, but you need to be unobtrusive, fade into the background. Don’t be a needless distraction...to anyone.”

  I smiled at her. “Then you take Claire and keep her calm and I’ll take the groom. And I’ll try not to distract him.” I was probably the one who didn’t need any distractions, I thought, as I slid into the front seat of the cart, eyeing the control panel of the machine. James emerged from the villa, stopping in front of Vienna.

  “You’re all set, ma’am. There’s a guest phone if you need anything, just dial zero for the staff office. Someone will be by in half an hour, as you requested, to take you to the main villa.”

  She glanced at him, her frown deepening. “I’ll be going to the terminal, not the villa.” He nodded, sliding into the driver’s seat beside me. “Just a moment, please.” She turned her attention back to me.

  “My point is still this: you need to be unobtrusive. Remember that. I expect you at the terminal in thirty minutes. And make sure your microphone is turned on.” She turned her back to me and walked toward the villa and that discussion was closed. My hand flew to my ear and I clicked the small button, instantly filling my head with a burst of static.

  James watched her retreating back for a moment, his face impassive before turning to me.

  “Are you ready for your driving lesson?” His face broke into a wide grin.

  “How did you know?” I smiled up at him.

  He nodded toward the villa. “I heard your boss say you were going to be transporting guests and well, when you saw this thing, I saw the excitement in your eyes.” He chuckled, the corners of his lips and eyes etched with the signs of years of good humor.

  “I guess my face gives away all of my thoughts. I’ve been told I should never play poker.” I relaxed against my seat. “So what’s the trick to handling one of these?”

  “The only thing you really need to remember is to plug it in at night. It’s electric. If you don’t do that, you’re in for a lot of walking.”

  “Got it. Plug it in every night. What else?” I leaned forward, watching intently.

  “Key to start.” He pointed to a small key stuck in the dash, turned it, and the motor purred to life. “Simple. You’ve driven a car?”

  I nodded.

  “Gas on the right, brake is the big pedal on the left. And...” He pointed to his feet. I looked down and laughed. The pedal on the right was emblazed with big letters...GO. The brake, STOP.

  “Wonderful. I think I can manage that. It kind of looks like fun.”

  “You want to drive?�
��

  My mouth dropped. “Really? Yeah...I’d love that.”

  We exchanged seats and James showed me how to adjust the seat so I had at least a fighting chance to reach the pedals. The gears were in the dash by my left hand and he guided me into shifting it into drive. After a jerky start, I made a wide turn in the clearing of the villa and headed off at barely more than walking speed down the narrow path.

  “It’s easier when you get to the wider paths. These paths up to the villas are way too small. Here, turn right.”

  I did as I was told, carefully turning where James pointed and the path widened.

  “Give it some gas. Top speed is just under twenty miles an hour, but you’ll have no reason to go that fast. At a safe speed, braking distance is about ten feet or so. Test it out, see what it’s like.”

  I tapped the brake and the cart responded immediately. “This is much easier than I thought.” We headed down the path, James directing me, and before too long I felt more confident in my driving.

  We finally pulled up in front of my villa. James slid out of the cart, grabbing my bags from the back. He’d parked next to my shiny golf cart.

  “You’re further from the action than I thought you’d be, but maybe it’s because there are so many guests for the wedding. It’s larger than most, that’s for sure...maybe all of the villas are taken up with family and the bridal party. But there are bigger staff quarters available.” I didn’t miss the tone in his voice or the way his brows drew together.

  “But I’m working, so how much time am I really going to be spending here?” I followed him up the wide stairs, noticing there was no sign that indicated the name of my pied-a-terre.

  James set my bags down inside the door, and I peered around him. The room was actually quite nice, although small, mostly dominated by a huge bed with a gauzy white canopy and curtains. I was right on the beach, the windows along the back giving out on a gorgeous view of crystal blue waters.

  “Oh, look. I’m almost sleeping on the beach.” I threw open the French doors, the curtains fluttering in the warm breeze. I closed my eyes, drawing a deep breath. It smelled divine, like salt and sand and rich flower perfume. I heard James behind me, laughing softly.