Private Paradise

by Jami Alden

  Carla's brain whirled as she processed what he was saying. She felt like the world was careening off its axis, the hard truths she'd accepted a long time ago upending all around her.

  His eyes met hers, hard, resigned. “I don't know if it was your intention to get me back for hurting you. My guess is no, since you don't think I really care about you anyway. But be happy knowing you got your revenge.”

  He turned away and started to empty another desk drawer. Carla's tongue finally unstuck from the roof of her mouth. “How?” she asked again. “How am I supposed to believe that you would show up here and all of a sudden you're in love with me after only a week?” She didn't believe it was true, yet she couldn't keep the hope from surging in her, straining against the tight rein she kept on it.

  Sam turned to her again, and this time there was no anger, no disgust on his face. Instead he looked rueful and a little sad. “You don't get it. It's not all of the sudden. It's been all along. I fell in love with you that summer. And when I saw you here, that first day, I realized I still am.”

  Her heartbeat echoed in her head. God, she wanted to believe him. “If you really loved me, how could you treat me like that?”

  Shame darkened his features. “Because I was a an immature coward, afraid my father was right. That if you ditched your scholarship for me, pretty soon you'd realize I was a loser who was going nowhere, and totally unworthy of a girl like you. I couldn't face that, so I made sure I pushed you away before you could leave me.”

  “Your father said that to you?”

  His mouth pulled into a humorless smile. “Every chance he got.”

  Suddenly the years between them disappeared, and she remembered that day his father came to visit, how everything had changed after that. Remembered too, Sam's comments about being stupid or never amounting to anything. All along she'd dismissed them, thinking someone as hot, charming and so obviously confident couldn't truly believe that about himself.

  Was it just a front? Used to cover up the scars left by a father who told him over and over how worthless and unlovable he was?

  Her already battered heart ached for the vulnerable boy he'd been. But as hurt as that boy had been, that hadn't given him the right to pass the trauma onto her.

  As though reading her mind, Sam said, “I'm not trying to make excuses for myself. I know what I said was unforgivable. And I know it was stupid of me to think now that I've done something with my life I could show up here and get a do-over, get you to fall in love with me again.”

  “That's really why you came? For a do-over?”

  He gave her a rueful smile. “Not exactly. When Chris first told me about your situation, I thought I could do you a favor, make up a little bit for the way I treated you.” His smile faded. “Then I got my first look at you in over ten years and I felt like I'd been punched in the gut.” His eyes turned molten, and she felt her skin flush with an answering heat. “I realized in that moment I'd never stopped loving you. That I'd never wanted anything more than I wanted to be with you.”

  Carla took a step closer even as her brain frantically analyzed the situation, trying to figure out his angle. It wasn't more sex―he'd already landed her in bed without stories of heartbreak and wanting second chances.

  It wasn't the job―he was clearly ready to resign.

  The only other possibility was that this was all part of a plot to pull her back into his web, make her fall in love with him all over again, all the while planning to crush her again. Which would make Sam unbelievably cruel, even diabolical.

  Everything inside her rebelled against that idea. Yes, Sam had hurt her, but she could easily imagine pushing someone away to avoid getting hurt and causing collateral damage in the process.

  Hadn't she done the same, she realized in a burst of enlightenment, when she'd laughed at Sam when he told her he loved her? Dismissed his words as meaningless because she was afraid to believe, to open herself up to hurt.

  She felt a pinch of shame, along with a dawning realization that there was only possibility left.

  Sam was telling the truth.

  Even acknowledging possibility of it made her legs go noodly underneath her. Sam caught her before he could fall, and Carla grabbed his thick upper arms to steady herself. When he would have released her she clung to him, her eyes locked on his face as every word, every smile, every touch he'd given her in the last week replayed like a highlight reel in her mind.

  Every moment making her feel more alive than she had in years.

  She looked into blue eyes gone dark with desire and regret.

  And finally, with her defenses breached, something she hadn't allowed herself to see, even though she realized now it had been there all along. Love.

  Her throat caught on a swift intake of air. “Oh my God. You do love me.”

  His full lips pulled into a smile, making his eyes crinkle at the corners in the way that never failed to make her stomach do a backflip. His big hands came up to cradle her face. “You're just realizing it now?” His mouth came over hers, his tongue parted her lips in a kiss so tender she thought she was going to melt into a puddle on the floor.

  He lifted his head, gave her gentle peck on each cheek. “I do love you, Carla DeLuca. It's always been you.” He kissed her again. “Question is, do you love me back?

  She swallowed hard, her eyes stinging with tears, overwhelmed as the emotions she'd been working so hard to hold back burst free, rushing through her like an unstoppable force

  ###

  Sam held his breath, suspended in agony as he waited for her reply. Told himself that even if the answer was no, it would be okay because at least he'd gotten her to see the truth. About him, about the past, about everything.

  Sure he'd spend the rest of his life with a hole in his chest big enough to drive a truck through, but at least he'd have the consolation of knowing the love of his life didn't think he was a lying sack of shit.

  “I--” the words caught and she looked up at him with dark, stricken eyes. Sam's stomach fell to his feet and he braced himself for the killing blow. This was worse, he realized in a flash, than when she'd laughed. Then she'd been rejecting the man she thought he was.

  Now, she was about to reject the man he really was. The one who'd picked himself up, dusted himself off, and made something of himself and had hoped that would impress her enough to give him a second chance.

  God damn it, he might not be selfish, scared, and immature any more, but he sure as shit was still stupid, at least when it came to Carla DeLuca.

  He felt a suspicious burn in his eyes and he stepped back, wanting nothing more than to get away from her before he broke down and really humiliated himself.

  “I do,” she breathed.

  His heart froze in his chest, then started to beat, fast and heavy. “What?”

  “I do love you. As scary as it is to admit that out loud, I love you, Sam.” Her voice was high pitched and breathy from that fear. “I don't think I ever stopped.” His heart broke at her beautiful, tear-streaked face, her fear of getting hurt still easy to see, even through the unmistakable love in her eyes.

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her, tasting her tears. “I fucked up, big time,” he murmured against her lips. “But don't let the stupid kid that I was ruin what we can have. Don't be scared of me, don't be scared of us.”

  He kissed her again, groaning as she parted her lips for his tongue. He tasted her sigh as the last of her resistance disappeared. “I love you,” he whispered again, his blood heating at the feel of her curves pressed up against him.

  Their slow, loving kisses quickly grew heated, and soon Sam had one hand up Carla's shirt while the other fumbled with the button on her shorts. Even after their crazy night together, he felt an almost desperate need to be inside her, to lay his claim once and for all.

  “Wait,” Carla said, grabbing his hand before he could tug the zipper down. “We're in the office, anyone could come by.”

  Sam let out a tortured
groan but knew she was right. It was one thing to have their relationship out in the open, another for the boss to be caught having sex on a desk in the middle of the day. No way would Carla risk her professional reputation like that.

  Sam stepped away and resigned himself to enduring an epic case of blue balls until they could slip away to her villa

  To his shock, Carla didn't try to put herself back together. Instead, she crossed to the office door and locked it. Then she kicked off her shoes, walked over to the windows and pulled down the blinds.

  She turned to him, a smile teasing her lips and a wicked glint in her eye. She whipped her shirt over her head, and Sam's mouth watered the sight of her big, soft tits straining at the cups of her bra, her flat, toned belly that practically begged him to run his tongue down it.

  “Now, where were we?” she asked.

  “About to have a nooner in my office?” Sam grinned as he pulled his own shirt over his head.

  Within seconds the rest of their clothes were gone, and the small room filled with the sounds of sucking kisses and fast, panting breath. Sam lifted Carla to the desk, groaning as she wrapped her legs around him, letting him feel how wet and ready she was against his stomach.

  Later he would go slow, tease her, and kiss every secret spot until she was begging for him to come inside her. Now all traces of playfulness disappeared as he felt an almost desperate need to take her, stake his claim on her body and soul in the most primal way possible.

  He entered her without hesitation, his groan mingling with hers as her tight, slick pussy stretched to accommodate him. He set a hard, driving rhythm that quickly had her moaning and squirming against him.

  “Sam,” she cried his name as her fingers dug into his shoulder. “You feel so good, so good, so―”

  The last was lost as she broke apart in his arms, milking him hard as she came around his cock.

  “I love you,” she cried as the last shudders rippled through her.

  Pleasure roared through him, so intense it shook him to his core. And something else. Pure, unadulterated joy, at the knowledge that she was his. That he was finally getting his second chance.

  He held himself deep inside her, his whole body shaking as he shot hot jets of come deep inside her. “Oh God, I love you too, so God damn much.”

  He gathered her limp form and staggered to a chair in the corner where he cradled her in his lap until they could both breathe again.

  The rattling of the doorknob followed by a sharp knock on the door jolted them from their reverie. “Sam, you in there?” Sam recognized Chris's voice on the other side of the door.

  Carla scrambled off his lap and dove for the pile of clothes on the other side of the desk.

  “We need to go over a few details before I head back to Coral Cay.”

  “Just a sec,” Sam called. He and Carla snickered like naughty children as they bumbled into their clothes.

  Carla smoothed her hair one last time and nodded for him to open the door. Chris's dark brows knit in confusion, but after a split second his frown morphed into a knowing smile. “Carla, I can't believe after all the crap you gave me and Julie for knocking one out in the office...”

  Sam couldn't stifle his own grin as Carla's already flushed cheeks went beet red. “I wasn't, we weren't―”

  “Right.” He pushed past them to open the window shades. “The razor burn on your neck aside, Sam's shirt is inside out.”

  Sam felt his own face heat when he looked down and saw Chris was right.

  “Let me guess,” Chris said, one eyebrow cocked at Sam, “you won't be leaving after all.”

  “Nope.” Sam's grin stretched wider and he slid his arm around Carla's waist and pulled her to his side. “She's not getting rid of me that easily.”

  “I hope your intentions toward my cousin are honorable,” Chris said with mock gravity.

  “Shut up,” Carla said, exasperated.

  Chris and Carla might be making light of it, but to Sam this was no joke. “If it's up to me I'll marry her as soon as we can get a license and a minister.”

  He felt Carla stiffen next to him and looked down into her shocked face. “Really?” Her eyes were full of hope, but he could tell she couldn't quite believe he was for real.

  He smiled and brought his hand up to cup her cheek and kissed her softly on the lips. “Really.”

  Chris cleared his throat uncomfortably. “Right. Well. Whenever you decide, I know Julie will go nuts planning it.”

  “Thanks,” Carla said, her smiling eyes never leaving Sam's.

  “So I'll leave you to...whatever.”

  Sam was too busy kissing his fiancée to hear Chris close the door behind him.

  About the Author:

  Jami Alden lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her socially well adjusted alpha male husband, two sons, and a German Shepherd who patiently listens to dialogue and helps her work out plot points. Find out more about Jami and her books:

  http://www.jamialden.com

  http://www.facebook.com/JamiAldenBooks

  http://www.twitter.com/jamialden

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13