Red Hot Lovers: 18 Contemporary Romance Books of Love, Passion, and Sexy Heroes by Your Favorite Top-Selling Authors

by Milly Taiden

  She brushed her teeth, tamed her mane of blond hair and tied it up in a ponytail, grabbed her purse and paused.

  Being so near-sighted made her insecure. The contacts had helped a lot with her confidence, but after spending years in high school being teased for her large, thick glasses, and after a couple of blunders when she’d been without them — at the pool or when it rained and they got wet — she sometimes felt she was back to square one.

  She took a deep breath, wishing she hadn’t refused her friends’ help. Then again, she couldn’t always rely on them.

  You can do this.

  She glanced at the balcony door, at the bright sunshine outside. The beach was right below. She should be able to see the beach bar from there, but since she was currently blind, it would have to wait until she bought new lenses.

  Lifting her chin, she made her way out, locked the door with the old-fashioned key and went down to the reception. She placed her key on the desk, squinting around. Where was the receptionist? Voices sounded behind her and she glanced over her shoulder. Blurry figures entered through the revolving doors, coming toward her. Others lounged in the small sitting area.

  She tapped her fingers on the desk, her insecurity returning. Maybe she was supposed to simply leave the key and go?

  “Hello, morning.” A man entered through a door, scratching at his chin. “Sorry, I am...” He stopped, snorted. “Well, hello.”

  She still couldn’t see his expression, but she recognized that tone of voice. Flirting. Her cheeks heated as he came closer, leaning over the desk, and she saw him better. Dark shoulder-length hair and hazel eyes, three-day-old stubble darkening his jaw. He looked like the mysterious guy on the beach, only older and bulkier. Maybe all Cretans looked like that.

  An island of hunks.

  “I’m here, I fix something.” He dragged the vowels, his voice musical. “No more milk for breakfast. Customers complain, I need to do something, fast. I call Kai, milk is on the way.”

  Kai. Rhymed with sky.

  “I’m not here to complain about the milk,” she stammered. “I just wanted to leave my key. Or should I take it with me?”

  “No, leave it, leave it.” He smirked. “Safe with me.” He waved at what had to be the new arrivals. “Can I help you?”

  She turned to go and promptly crashed into someone. Her purse fell and she back-pedaled into the desk as the sound of something heavy hitting the floor reverberated through the lobby.

  “Oh fuck,” the blurry figure facing her muttered in a crisp American accent and bent down to pick up whatever it was he’d dropped. Even without lenses she could see how wide his shoulders were and the dark hue of his hair.

  “I’m sorry,” she whispered and dropped to her knees to help him. She picked up a carton and tried to read what it was. Of course she couldn’t. It was all in Greek.

  “And the milk arrive,” the receptionist grated, though there was laughter in his voice.

  So this was Kai that rhymed with sky.

  “Here, give me that,” Kai said, his deep voice familiar.

  Olivia glanced up into dark eyes that held a streak of blue and froze. “You.” The guy she’d met at the beach the previous evening. She tightened her hold on the carton and blurted, “I didn’t recognize you dressed.”

  The receptionist whistled and chuckled.

  Kai stilled. Dark eyes widened, then crinkled at the corners, a side of his mouth lifting. “You must be kidding me...”

  Oh damn, she’d caught the German bug. Her thoughts flowed out of her mouth without any filter. “Um, I didn’t mean it that way... Crap.”

  He grabbed the carton from her hand and stood, instantly going blurry once more. She remained on her knees, caught between deciding on the best way to make her escape and staying until she pieced it all together.

  Kai worked here. Lived here, probably, which would explain his presence at the beach. Did that mean she would be seeing him every day?

  And why did the prospect send a thrill through her?

  “Are you all right?” His low voice brought her out of her brief trance.

  She’d zoned out on the lobby floor. Hopeless. “Fine, I just, um...”

  “Here.” He reached down for her. “Let me help you up.”

  She took his hand, firm and strong, and let him pull her to her feet. “I’m really sorry I bumped into you. I lost my contact lens and I’m kinda blind right now, so... I need to get a taxi into town.” She realized he still held her hand and she looked up to find an odd expression on his face.

  “No need for a taxi. I’m going into town.” He looked down at their interlinked hands and frowned. “I’m going there to pick up some provisions for the hotel. I can drop you off at an optician’s.”

  The receptionist whistled again. Kai turned and gave him the finger — maybe, she couldn’t be sure — then nodded at the exit. “If that’s okay with you.”

  “Sure, yes, thank you,” she said, relieved and curious and wondering about the streak of blue she’d seen in his dark eyes.

  He smiled, a faint pulling of his lips, and it was only when he withdrew his hand she realized she wanted it back.

  ***

  CHAPTER TWO

  By that sin fell the angels.

  Shakespeare

  Their wings were heavy and their heart light.

  Myra Crow

  Kai led the way to the parking lot behind the hotel. A pickup truck sat under a purple bougainvillea in full blossom. The sun already stung her skin and struck reflections off the sea down below.

  Inside the truck it was warm but Kai opened the doors and it cooled down enough for her to climb inside. The cloth covers of the seats were dusty; the dashboard looked grimy, although she didn’t want to press her nose to it to examine it.

  Then Kai slid inside, slamming the car door closed, and his scent hit her. He smelled like the sea, salty and woodsy and fresh with an undertone of musk. She inhaled deeply, hoping he wouldn’t notice. One of the perks of being half-blind, if you could call it a perk, was she had a better feel for the other senses. Sounds, smells, textures became more intense when you had to rely on them to get around, and she wanted to sink in his scent and dream of waves and sparkling fish.

  “Buckle up,” he said, a dark brow arching.

  She realized she’d been leaning toward him and jerked back. Shit. She pulled on the safety belt and nodded. “Aye aye, Captain.”

  He puffed out a breath, and she wasn’t sure if it was annoyance or amusement. She hoped it was the latter. He was being nice and she didn’t want to put him off.

  “So do you know where I can find an optician’s store?” She glanced out the window as he pulled out of the parking lot, seeing streaks of color and indistinct shapes. She turned back toward him. At least she could make out most of his features.

  “Optonet. It’s near the town center.” He switched on the radio. A song blared out — Greek, of course — with lots of percussion and an oriental rhythm. “I’ll drop you off there, then continue to the other side of town to pick up provisions. Need me to give you a lift on my way back?”

  Tempting as it sounded, he’d done a lot already. She gazed at his dark lashes, so long they swept his cheekbones when he blinked. “Nah, I’ll be fine. I’ll grab a taxi back, thank you.”

  “Why are you staring at me?” It came out a bit antsy, as if he’d caught her stalking him or something.

  “Oh. You’re the only thing — well, person — I can actually see right now.” She hoped her cheeks weren’t about to flush again. “I have no idea where we are and can’t see a damn thing outside.” And you’re gorgeous.

  Yeah, better not say that.

  A corner of his mouth twitched up like before. She liked his half-smiles, she decided. “So you’re looking at me because I’m the only thing you can see, huh?”

  She shrugged. “It’s not such a bad view.”

  Damn. She hadn’t been supposed to say that, and she normally didn’t blurt out her th
oughts. She was a quiet person and Kirsten always teased her about it. What was it about this guy that made her spew out such things?

  Then again, maybe it was because he didn’t speak much and she wanted to fill the silence between them.

  Which again begged the question why...

  “We haven’t been introduced properly.” She put out her hand. “I’m Olivia Spencer. You can call me Liv.”

  He caught her hand, his grip strong. Muscles flexed in his tanned arm. “Kai.”

  She smiled. “Nice to meet you, Kai. Are you from around here?” Oh god, there she went again. She needed a silencer for her mouth.

  He started to nod, then shook his head.

  Okay, confusing. Coupled with his comment of being sometimes here and sometimes not... “You don’t have a Greek accent. You grew up in the States, didn’t you?”

  He turned off the radio. “Yeah,” he said. “New Jersey. You?”

  “Vermont. But I’m moving to New York, hopefully. I asked for a transfer to a college there.” She pursed her lips. She wanted to ask him if he studied, if his parents were from Crete, but she already sounded like a police interrogator. Like the Inquisition, rather. Great.

  “Have you picked a major?” he asked and she smiled, relieved he was taking the lead.

  “English literature.”

  His brows drew together, his full lips pressed in a line. Had she said something wrong? “You don’t like literature?”

  “I don’t read.”

  Oh. “At all?” Didn’t even seem possible in her world, but he was worlds away. And why did he seem upset?

  She was slowly realizing she was worlds away from home, too.

  He said nothing as they drove on, old two-storey houses crowding the sides of the streets as they entered the center of Chania town. Honks and shouts filled the awkward silence between them but did nothing to dispel the tension.

  They stopped in front of a line of shops. Kai pulled on the handbrake, not looking at her, his jaw clenched. He nodded at the storefronts. “This is it. Second shop from the left.”

  “Thank you.” She slung her purse over her shoulder, debated saying something more, asking him what had pissed him off. Trying to figure him out. But she shouldn’t bother. She didn’t need this. “See you around.”

  He drove off as soon as her door slammed shut.

  *

  The optician, a nice middle-aged lady with short, iron-grey hair, asked for her vision measurements and puttered through her storeroom, returning triumphant with a box of monthly contact lenses. When Olivia asked to put them on, she was waved into a small bathroom with a dusty mirror. She popped them in, wiped the extra moisture, and she was a seeing person again. Like magic.

  The world was beautiful.

  She bought an extra pair just in case she lost another lens, her lesson learned, then she tucked the box in her purse and set out to visit the old town of Chania. At a stall, she had a kaltsouni, a sweet pastry filled with fresh cheese, sugar and cinnamon, and tried the Greeks’ favorite summer beverage: frappe, which basically meant instant coffee whisked with ice and water. Even with milk and sugar it still tasted bitter and horrible, but everyone around her guzzled the stuff down like water.

  Amazing. It was a wonder their taste buds didn’t fizzle out and die instantly.

  Then again, maybe they did, which explained how these people could keep drinking the vile liquid.

  After discreetly tossing her still full plastic frappe cup into a trash container, she checked her map and strolled down busy Halidon Street with its touristy shops and taverns, and its loud hawkers and hagglers. At the end of the street was a small square with a fountain, and she crossed it to reach the Venetian harbor with its lighthouse, the old ottoman baths, and the restaurants along the sea front.

  The blue of the sea filled her eyes. Darker than the light-filled sky, bluer than turquoise. Azure, perhaps. The color burrowed into her mind, a ripple of calm and wonder, quieting her fears and making her want to smile.

  Choosing a cafe that faced the lighthouse, she ordered an Italian espresso and leaned back to take in the view. The natural bay was surrounded by old ottoman buildings, and behind them, according to her map, were the Venetian walls protecting the town from the mainland. ‘Canea’ had been the town’s name back then, and it had been impregnable for a very long time.

  Like Kai. He was like a fort, the walls high around him, not letting anyone close.

  Okay, where had the thought come from? Olivia snorted softly, sipping her coffee. You barely know him. And she’d only seen him with the sun setting and then while she’d been half-blind. Maybe he was nothing much to look at in broad daylight, with her vision restored.

  She gulped down the rest of her coffee, scalding her throat. Who was she kidding? He was hotter than hot sauce.

  With a sigh, she turned on her mobile phone to text her parents she’d arrived fine to Crete, and found a message from Justin.

  Oh shit. There went her nice, relaxed mood. Her hands began to shake as she turned the phone off. Turned it on again. Stared at his name, still in her list of contacts, complete with his photo blowing her a kiss.

  Double shit.

  She opened the message. ‘I’m sorry, Livvy,’ it read. ‘Call me?’

  Olivia hated it when he called her that. It wasn’t her name. She turned the phone off and shoved it back into her purse. Later. She’d deal with this later. Her fingers flew to her throat, searching for the ring, but found the smooth pebble instead. She clasped it, feeling its coolness, and closed her eyes.

  She’d done the right thing. In this case at least, she was sure she had. Justin would be happier after some time, and so would she.

  As for the other matter... She remembered her libation of beer at the beach and suppressed a sigh. Ridiculous. She’d been so drunk. Life didn’t get fixed through magic and miracles. You had to own up to your mistakes and find the courage to move on.

  If only it were that easy...

  “Would you like something else?” The waiter was short and bald, standing at stiff attention by her table.

  She wanted to sit a while longer, so she asked for a fresh orange juice. She hid a smile at his curt nod and the air of importance he sported.

  He returned shortly with her juice. “Just arrived?” he asked and she found she was getting used to the odd Greek accent. “You will love Chania. Very beautiful.”

  “It’s lovely,” she said truthfully.

  “But this place can be dangerous,” he declared, tucking an arm behind his back like an orator. “The winds are strong, the currents of the sea tricky. Tourists are ignorant and often get hurt. Be careful where you swim.”

  Her smile fell and she watched him go. Pompous ass. She suddenly wished she’d gone hiking with Kirsten and Markus. Or taken the ride back to the hotel with Kai.

  Frowning, she picked up her juice, cradling the cool glass close. No, not Kai. Whatever bothered him was none of her business and wouldn’t help her surface from the mire. She had enough issues of her own.

  Digging out her travel guide, she read through the basics about the town and surroundings. Lots of monasteries and caves and long beaches to visit. Now that she had regained her vision, courtesy of her new contact lenses, she was ready for everything Crete had to throw at her.

  But first of all, she decided, she needed to go shopping.

  *

  Chania was famous for its leather goods, the Shopping Section of her guide said, so she began with that. She needed sandals. And maybe a dress or two. She climbed up the narrow streets of the old town, the Venetian houses with their small windows and leafy yards crowding the pedestrians. No cars were allowed — nor would they fit through. Every little handicraft shop vied for her attention — ceramics, wooden boats and bowls, hand-made jewelry, linen blouses and long skirts. And finally, the leather. Bags of all sizes and colors, hats and purses and shoes.

  She tried on a few pairs of sandals, her mind returning to the way Kai had sti
ffened when she’d mentioned her major, the way he’d asked if she needed him to dive into the waves to get back her ring, if she was okay, if she needed a ride.

  So nice. Cute. Hot. And yet he’d gone cold in an instant and driven away.

  Yeah, well. She might never even see him again... Although he did work at the hotel, didn’t he?

  Distracted, she picked up a pair of green sandals with thin straps and leather butterflies at the back of the ankle. And if she did see him, how should she react?

  Sighing, she paid for the shoes and sauntered through the narrow alleys. If she came across Kai, she’d nod politely and go on her way. No big deal.

  Her mind set, she skipped in and out of tiny shops and ended up buying a light blue dress, a matching crochet vest and a necklace made of tiny red beads. All very nice, and the town was beautiful.

  But not enough to make her forget — the past, or Justin. She needed a project. Since she was little she liked having projects — a goal toward which to strive and give her life meaning. They could be small goals, like researching an era, or a musical instrument, or bigger goals, like becoming friends with an arrogant neighbor.

  Despite her insecurities, she’d been quite good at that — making friends or losing herself in books.

  He would make a good project. Kai, that is. Find out more about him, try to become his friend. It might prove interesting.

  She stopped in her tracks. She was still thinking about him, dammit. The streak of blue in his eyes, his secretive answers, his sudden mood shifts.

  A project.

  Well, why not? She had nothing to lose. She was curious about him, nothing wrong with that, and she could use the treasure hunt as a distraction, let her friends have some time alone.

  Sounded like the perfect plan.

  *

  “Here is your room key,” Panos said. “Everything good?”