Tempting Isabel (Paradise South #1)

by Rissa Brahm

  “Tea?” Her soft-spoken offer startled him back.

  She’s real…that’s a start.

  “No. No, thank you.”

  He sat down at the patio table across from her, and as he adjusted his chair to see her more fully, a strange chorus of screaming whines floated past his ear from somewhere close by, maybe to the north? Zack searched for the origin from his seat because having been haunted by the mirror that morning, such eerie sounds couldn’t just be shrugged off.

  “Just cats…next door. The place is abandoned now. Actually, the one on the other side of me too. That one’s overrun by sea birds now. When I moved in, the neighbors moved out.”

  He digested what she said and shook his head. She was obviously referring to her “curse.”

  “That’s insane,” he mumbled. Was Vallarta, or the entire country, even, so superstitious? It was such foreign thinking to him. And he thought he knew Vallarta so well. So maybe it’s a deep cultural indoctrination that Isabel had grown up with that made her actually believe she was cursed. Things started to become clear. He remembered the bouncer at the nightclub who wouldn’t let her in. The guy wouldn’t even look her in the face! So crazy. Mind-boggling! No wonder she believed this…curse. It completely surrounded her!

  And the mention of her mother last night…had the woman ended her life because she’d believed her youngest was a walking hex?

  Well, he’d asked for this, wanting to know what she had been hiding, what she was so terrified of.

  But it wouldn’t terrify him. No, nothing could terrify him more than his future without Isabel in it.

  *

  They sat there in silence for some time just watching the tide. Then a sigh escaped her lips, showing him a sense of surrender he hadn’t seen in her before. As if she stoically awaited an oncoming storm and was completely resigned to it.

  He moved an inch closer to her with his chair. “Isabel, I realized something this morning. You care enough about me that you’d choose to deny yourself a chance at happiness with me…just to protect me. Whether I accept your theory, your curse, or not…I’m willing to take the risk. I’ve been told, fairly warned, but I’m choosing to take my chances. They are my chances to take. I just need you, Isabel. Bottom line.”

  “Zack, you need to understand, my decision isn’t all selfless. I can’t handle the loss—another loss. I can’t handle any more guilt! Years of guilt, starting with Sebastian.” She paused and looked away from Zack’s gaze. Sebastian. He’d heard Roberto say the name and deduced from there. Hey, she was at least opening up to him. A good sign, even if by mistake.

  “My heart was yanked from my chest, Zack. From my life. I was left to face the blame, knowing I was the cause of his death and of the others’ deaths.” She held her chest and took in a deep breath. Her eyes closed, letting glistening tears show from behind her long dark lashes.

  God, her pain was raw. And it knifed him.

  Please, Isabel, let me in. To ease the hurt, calm the storm, she just had to surrender.

  *

  “Listen to me, Isabel.” He leaned in to her, so wanting to take her face in his hands. But he knew not to. She had a strong invisible wall up around her that he needed to respect. For now.

  “I’ve been taken by you. Fuck it!—I am indisputably and undeniably in love with you! And I would rather die at the end of a single, glorious, unbelievable Isabel-filled day than to continue living a life of pure nothingness without you.”

  She had no response, not a word. A good sign, no bullshit rebuttal. He couldn’t take anymore of that.

  “I’m sorry for the drama I’ve caused. I’m sorry for threatening your career, for the stress, for putting your needs and goals behind my own. Damn it, just all of it. I’m just learning how to get my own head out of my ass.” A grin, then a straight stern line. “I beg you, take a solid day to think on what I’ve said. Think on us. I will walk out of your life if that’s what you want, even though it would be worse than the most torturous death. But I will do it if you ask me to. But just give it a day?”

  She turned her head from him and stared out over the water. Her rare silence meant to him that she’d agreed to think on it.

  He stood up, having said all that he’d intended. He walked by her to let himself out, only allowing his fingertips to brush over her hand in passing. His heart fell. Would this be the last time he’d ever feel the warmth of her skin?

  CHAPTER 43

  She clutched his wrist before he could take another step, as if she’d been possessed by her alter ego. Then words fell out of her mouth in the form of a question.

  “Do you promise that when I give you an answer…tomorrow, that you will accept whatever my decision is? If it’s no, that we cannot be together, you will agree to let me be and we will never see each other again?” She heard her own words as if a separate voice spoke them.

  What the hell was she considering? What exactly was her plan? She felt the warring elements within her battling to the death.

  “If I have to wander this planet alone, rotting in misery”—he scoffed, but still deadly serious—“yes, Isabel. I will respect your decision.” He’d whispered it while staring at her strong hold on his wrist.

  She didn’t know why, but she needed him so badly, even for one last time, one last injection of his all-loving energy straight into her soul. She had nothing more to lose, and she trusted he would let her go if she told him the following day that was how it had to be. Which of course was the case. That she knew.

  But Isabel Ruiz, whose alter ego was in complete and utter control at that point, pulled down hard on Zack’s arm, taking him to his knees. Both of his arms landed on her thighs to catch himself.

  She sat up and leaned forward. She lifted his chin to hers, and with gazes locked, she slowly touched her lips to his. A delicate last kiss.

  Which she could not bear to end.

  She combed her fingers through his wind-strewn hair, and then devoured his mouth whole, her tongue meshing with his while tightening and clenching between her thighs, trying to control the need for him down deep inside her.

  *

  He yanked her to him, pulling her off the chair onto his hard lap. The light mesh chair tipped forward onto her and he tossed it backward with ease.

  He enveloped her tight in his arms and relished the rise and fall of her breasts against his own anguished chest. The tide below mimicked her heavy breathing and at that moment, he had to be one with her. The satin robe loosely tied at her waist opened with ease, presenting the lack of any barrier for his thick, pulsating entry.

  He kept her on his lap with one arm, and with his other, released himself from his pants, starved to fill her infinite universe. He was hard and ready, dying to dive into the deep pool of warmth and home residing between her forever-sprawling legs.

  But first he lifted them both up to allow his hand access to his rear pocket for his wallet.

  “Condom, inner fold,” he told her as her fingers fumbled and found, tore and rolled it over and down his length.

  He exhaled then brought her back down onto him, gliding her ever-so-smoothly onto his throbbing lust. He raised up and then down with her, echoing the coming waves below.

  Her body tensed, her long canal squeezing his steel within her as if she would never let him go. She moaned, competing with the sound of the sea. He could tell she was ready to release, but he couldn’t bear to have it end yet. He took her soft warm ass in his clutches and lifted her up and off his shimmering erection and devoured her breasts, one then the other. She whimpered. He lined his lips with each nipple, relishing their sharp response.

  She begged him, “Please, Zack. Be back in me. Please…” He loved it. He felt her tortured bliss in the raw quality of her plea.

  He would give her anything, anything at all. He let his grasp slip from her supple bottom, and slowly slid his hands up her sweat-soaked back, while letting his yearning cock plunge back into her tight, silken lotus.

  She let ou
t a loud yell laced with what sounded to him like never-ending sadness.

  He gripped her long salt-crisped hair and pulled back slightly, getting her to a deeper place of pleasure, her body buckling on top of him. She gushed relentlessly while he kissed her face sweetly, tasting her salty tears as she went and went and went.

  He began his deluge again, knowing he could bring her to yet another wave of elation and join her there. Pumping her smoothly and rhythmically with his engorged and insatiable length, he added his finger moistened with the sex juices from her recent spout of release, and delicately circled her clit.

  She moaned longingly while her core constricted his thickness again. Taken off guard, a wave of full sensation drove up his back from his very center. He rolled with her down to the deck planks, vibrating from his pre-ejaculatory orgasm, holding on for dear life to not let it end. He needed to keep her for as long as forever, if only he could.

  His cock engulfed again by her sweet hot serum, she opened her eyes wide and brought her face to his. With her burgeoning lips at his mouth, and with her body under him, full breasts pressed against his chest, her hard nipples angry and sharp, he plunged into her infinite tunnel and exploded like a geyser, infusing every last inch of his hope that this would not be their last time fitting perfectly together as one.

  CHAPTER 44

  Isabel sat there, tired and spent. The scene from minutes before flashed in her mind, him lifting her up with him to her feet, shaky and feeble from him and his torrent. He had steadied her, then stepped back and walked around her as if to mentally record her figure, her birthmark he outlined with his finger, then her arms and her back, then coming back to the front of her, his finger delicately outlining her swollen lips. He’d closed her silk robe over her body, dragging his two thumbs down the lapel of the wrap, down her cleavage, down to her belly. As chills rocketed up her, he’d brought her robe tie around to her front, his fingers dusting her loins which were still reeling. He’d pulled her to him, leaned his face to the side, and pressed his lips to her neck—as if he’d shatter with even one more shared look.

  And then he left her standing there.

  Now her phone’s buzzing brought her back to present. A text message: Lock the front door behind me. She smiled, forced herself up, and went to secure the house. She saw him still in her driveway and texted him back. Thanks, and why are you still here? Stalking won’t help my answer ;-)

  She resumed her position on the back deck, vibrating and thinking and waiting while the bay’s warm morning breeze swept her face. Like a kiss. Was it Zack riding the wind? Because even as he drove away, he felt so close, so near.

  Startling her out of her second round of stillness, her phone went off. She was sure that this time it was her boss. She reached for it with less hesitation than she expected of herself, but still, her breath caught in her chest as she looked at the screen.

  She shook her head, another text from Zack: No stalking, I promise. Her breath released and her lips curled up for an instant.

  And as if on cue, the lone butterfly that had taken its earlier suicide mission out over the bay fluttered back in her direction. It landed on the railing right in front of her and her nearly empty teacup. It slowly opened and closed its wings as if in disbelief that it had finally come to a solid place to rest, and that it was even alive to do so. Or maybe Isabel projected that onto the delicate little thing. Either way, she was glad, relieved. Maybe fate wasn’t as evil, as sadistic, and as merciless as she’d thought. Maybe, amidst torturous flights over vast and dangerous waters, fate decided from time to time to give beautiful and helpless creatures a rail to rest on—just every now and again.

  She picked up her phone, set to text Zack back with her decision.

  CHAPTER 45

  He pulled out of the driveway just after sending her his last text. He was sure they were right together, two lost puzzle pieces that had finally found each other’s perfect fit. He came to a red light and checked his phone eagerly for anything back from her, but nothing yet. He continued down the winding byway toward the hotel. He was exhausted and looked forward to his bed. He would just crash and wait.

  Then a text buzzed in. He glanced at it hopefully, like an excited puppy. But it was from Wret: We’re going marlin fishing. Meet us, 20 min.

  He literally laughed out loud. Zachary James hadn’t been fishing since his father had taken him and Darren last and had boycotted the entire sport after Bennet left. How ridiculous, he mused. Fifteen plus years of avoiding…fishing? Hell, yes I’ll go! He’d go, and in doing so, he would further clinch the newfound apathy he held toward his father and the newfound freedom that came with it. He quickly texted Yes! as he drove, rerouting himself toward the marina.

  He breathed deep, picturing the day on the open water, the speed, the catch. Why the hell had he ever made his missing father so important, such a symbol in his life? Whatever. Now he would embrace the day, and at the same time, distract himself while he waited for Isabel’s answer.

  Another text came in, and thinking it was from Wret, but hoping it was from Isabel, he cruised through a turn into a straightaway, then glanced at his phone: Are you coming fishing with us? Stephanie.

  What the hell? And who the hell gave Stephanie Rine his cell number?

  He tossed his phone, along with his annoyance and disappointment, onto the passenger’s seat in disbelief of the woman’s persistence. And then there was another incoming text…

  Another one from that prejudiced bitch?

  He reached for it but the phone slid to the floor. The tiny sports car made for an easy reach while still keeping half an eye on the road.

  At first glance, it was hard to know what it was that flashed into his partial view while he was still halfway below the dash. Going 60 mph with one hand still on the steering wheel, there was no place to veer. No moment to think.

  As if in slow motion, the horse flew over the hood on impact, rolling up the windshield, crushing the roof. The all-encompassing implosion slammed Zack into the passenger’s side glove compartment.

  The living nightmare began and ended in an instant.

  CHAPTER 46

  Isabel woke up Monday morning, stiff and disoriented. She’d apparently drunk several pints of Mexican tuba wine, because the empty bottle lay on its side at her head. She had a hazy recollection of a number, one hundred and eight? Dolphins? Ah, yes, she’d used dolphin spotting as a distraction during the painful waiting game. Waiting and waiting for any incoming texts, calls, visits—hell, a sky written message would have done her. But nothing. Not from Lucinda, and nothing from Zack.

  God, nothing from Zack.

  She looked at her phone hopefully, maybe something came in while she was passed out. But all she had were a few outgoing calls from the morning before, which she immediately remembered making. Thank God before drowning in coconut wine, she’d gotten a hold of Raquel to handle the Rine/James Sunday brunch, and had spoken to Antonio for the airport runs. She couldn’t bear to show her face at the Bay View, or to see anyone at all for that matter. All she could do after Zack left was wait. And drink.

  And now, with no more wine, she’d have to go back to dolphin counting.

  *

  At dolphin number one hundred and ninety-seven, her phone rang.

  She took a breath, moved the empty wine bottle back from the table’s edge and slowly picked up her cell. Lucinda’s image appeared on the screen.

  And here we go.

  She let it ring just one more time before answering. Then she hit Accept.

  “Isabel.”

  “Good morning, Lucinda.” Decidedly no guilt or apology in her voice, Isabel reminded herself that she couldn’t really know for certain why Lucinda was calling. It could be for a phone number, or an airlift for an elderly guest?

  Sure, Isabel, get optimistic now. More like, delusional.

  So she knew it was the end of her career. And it was the end of her special relationship with Lucinda. But she also knew in her hea
rt that she’d tried in earnest to combat the Zack situation. With all the best intentions. For the company’s reputation, and for her own, she’d implemented pure professionalism.

  And it burned her that she honestly hadn’t known Zack was a wedding guest when they’d met, and met again, and had the most skyrocketing sexual and emotional connection ever. And come to think of it, Lucinda hadn’t known he was the best man either, when the woman left Isabel at the Five Breezes that day, the day she and Zack first met!

  But it didn’t matter. Not a damn. Because Isabel knew what mattered in the end to Lucinda Carlyle.

  “Isabel, can you tell me it isn’t true? What the maid of honor saw?”

  Isabel remained silent. She couldn’t say it wasn’t true. So she wouldn’t say a word.

  “Was it…another assault? Did she misinterpret it all? If so, I’ll prosecute that son of a bitch, Zack James! Saving you one night, then preying on you the next!”

  Oh God…No!

  “No, Lucinda, it was nothing like that!” Isabel did remember Zack coming on hard and strong, but it was from genuine excitement with the wedding coming to an end, a mutual excitement really. And despite her attempt at stopping things, it being the wrong place, wrong time—and the small issue of him leaving Stephanie’s hotel room—all in all, it was just another cosmic fucking joke, a big fat joke on her, yet again!

  But definitely nothing close to an assault!

  “Then what? I was grooming you, Isabel! To take over someday, and someday soon! What possessed you?”

  Should Isabel tell Lucinda that she and Zack had met before the event? He was the guy Lucinda pushed her direction? And that he had fallen for her…and maybe, likely, shit, definitely, she for him. After all of Lucinda’s lectures, Lucinda of all people would be ecstatic, right?