A Choice of Fate

by Jezz de Silva

  He released his death grip on the handrail and set free the smile he’d been hiding for reasons of pure survival. Whenever her delicious mouth hadn’t been twisted into a frown or mumbling obscenities about how she couldn’t afford the private jet, the inflight seven-course degustation dinner, or anything on the twelve-page wine list, it had been devouring everything placed in front of her. Which made maintaining her scowl almost impossible and had the added bonus of making her look even more adorable.

  She slashed her arm over the veranda and across the suite. “The private charter flight was perfect. The canapés were perfect. The lobster was perfect. The burnt-caramel cheesecake was perfect. The hundred-year-old wine and thousand-year-old whiskey were perfect. And this villa’s freaking perfect.”

  She paused her tirade long enough to suck in a ragged breath before advancing and lashing out her other arm over the moonlit ocean lapping the sparkling white sand beneath them. “The island’s perfect. The ocean’s perfect. And even the fucking weather’s perfect.”

  She screeched to a halt in front of him with her barely contained chest heaving beneath the towel. Her clenched fists shook as if she was preparing to knock the shit out of him. “And…and…and you’re perfect.”

  The words poured out of her on a sigh that drained the fight out of her as she hiccupped and collapsed against him. “I can’t afford any of this.”

  The body he clung to flooded his animal brain with hundreds of ideas on how she could repay him. But she’d already given him way more than he could ever hope to repay. Chuckling, he eased his embrace just long enough to brush the hair from her face before capturing her again. They’d wasted enough time, and now that he held her, there was no way he was letting go.

  “We’re on walkabout. The real world doesn’t exist. Money doesn’t exist. Your fancy new job doesn’t exist. And Carter Industries definitely doesn’t exist. It’s just you, me, and the Coral Sea.”

  She groaned and pounded her forehead against his chest. “Ah, for Christ’s sake, why the hell did you have to go and say something sweet like that?”

  This time he didn’t bother reining in his laughter. Capturing her face in his hands, he pressed his lips to hers and silenced her sullen potty mouth. With each strangled moan and thrust of her tongue, she climbed higher up his torso until she ground against his rigid cock and clawed her fingers into his hair. Before he’d even had a chance to properly grope what hid beneath her towel, she shoved out of his embrace and stepped back.

  With an evil grin that almost had him embarrassing himself into his Jockey shorts right there on the damned deck, she yanked off her towel and stood stark naked before him.

  “I think I’ve figured out a way to pay my way and help us forget the real world.”

  With his mouth gaping and his blood-starved brain struggling to take in the miracle posing before him, she leaped off the deck, ran across the beach, and plunged into the ocean. After savoring the dream unfolding before him, he took off after her, only to trip down the stairs and crash head first into the sand with his Jockeys and jeans tangled around his ankles.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Olivia slowed and allowed her feet to sink into the sand as she took in the view. The glowing white sand separating the lush tropical rainforest from the Coral Sea’s turquoise water wasn’t bad. But the sight of her former friend with benefits and current walkabout tour guide striding across the beach in a pair of board shorts was truly something to behold.

  Yesterday she’d been in the middle of the Outback. Today she stood on a private island, complete with its very own coral reef, smack bang in the center of the Great Barrier Reef. The Great freaking Barrier Reef. The only thing these two magical worlds shared was the cloudless sky that seemed to stretch on forever and the man who made her feel like a princess.

  “Move your arse, Doc.”

  Well, maybe not quite a princess, but he made her feel pretty damned good. She glared at the man standing knee-deep in the water. He drove a stupid car, lived in a supervillain lair, worked way too hard, and had way too much money for his own good. No, Jarrah Mereki Harper wasn’t perfect, but he was perfect for her.

  He answered her glare by blowing her a kiss, which had her smiling back like a pathetic groupie. The man was rich enough to charter a private jet and book a private villa on an even more private tropical island with zero notice. Yet he wore a pair of faded board shorts that looked even older than her practical, if a little modest, black one-piece. She tugged at the Lycra and hoped what it left to the imagination drove him as crazy as his castaway shorts drove her. She allowed her gaze to linger on the waistband of said board shorts, which hung low enough to provide a tantalizing glimpse of the trail of fine black hair leading to the remarkable appendage she’d well and truly claimed for herself. Her stomach clenched as the ever-present clock hanging over her head ticked beside her ear.

  A frigid shadow drifted across her cloudless world, and his teasing grin vanished as if he’d been swept up in the same storm. She widened her smile until her cheeks burned and charged across the sand toward him with her snorkel and flippers slapping her thighs. If all she had were forty-eight more hours with him, there was no way she was wasting any of them staring at what lurked on the horizon.

  After a wrestling match in the shallows that involved as much groping as actual grappling, she finally slid her feet into the flippers and pulled on her mask. She’d somehow even kept her swimsuit on and relatively intact, which had seemed an impossibility midway through their bout. His board shorts hadn’t fared so well and looked like they’d survived a shark attack, which hadn’t been far from the truth considering how close she’d come to biting a chunk out of his butt.

  With every lazy kick, the Great Barrier Reef wrapped her up in its warm embrace and insulated her from the constant tick-tock inside her head. The realm she snorkeled through was even more magical than the world she’d left behind. A craggy kaleidoscope of coral extended into the cobalt distance like an ancient city as her eyes darted from one exotic creature to the next. Each new discovery seemed even more spectacular than the last.

  A huge turtle drifted into sight and had her squeeing through her snorkel. Spinning around, she searched for her dive buddy to point out their visitor only to find him watching her like an aquatic bodyguard. She’d grown so used to his presence she wasn’t even surprised. With a graceful kick and pull from his arms, he glided toward her and captured her hand. Together, they floated after the turtle as she lazily went about the business of life until she paddled off the reef’s edge and out into the abyss.

  Olivia’s stomach dropped as she hovered above the coral wall descending almost vertically into the depths as the chilling theme from a certain movie she had no intention of reliving filled the eerie silence. The most she’d had to fear in the warm head-deep water behind her were stone fish, scorpion fish, blue-ringed octopus, sea snakes, cone shells, moray eels, and pissed-off clown fish. Beyond the reef’s protection lay the cold, dark world of giant predators.

  Jarrah squeezed her hand before releasing it and gently kicking out over the precipice she clung to. Slowly turning to face her, he held out his hand and beckoned her forward. The gesture was as gentle as the eyes studying her through his mask. He didn’t push, didn’t demand, he just floated above the depths and held out his hand.

  Beneath him lay an invisible world filled with the stuff of nightmares. He didn’t look down or to the side; he simply held her gaze and asked her to join him in the unknown. The smart thing to do was to wave him away and paddle back into the sun-warmed shallows where she could live out her days in the world she knew. But she’d gone way past smart, and she no longer wanted a life in the shallows if he wasn’t by her side.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Jarrah snapped open his eyelids as his groping fingers found nothing but empty sheets. No soft curves, no taut muscles, no evidence his dream woman ever existed except for her scent lingering on his skin and the ache in his chest that had
only intensified with every day they’d shared.

  The predawn breeze drifted over his naked skin as waves caressed the shore. Instead of calming him, the Great Barrier Reef’s rhythmic heartbeat thundered in his head as it counted off the precious seconds they had left. He held his breath and extended his senses into the night only to be answered by the gentle rustle of the palm fronds brushing the villa’s thatched roof and the Coral Sea’s relentless countdown.

  He sprang out of bed and scanned the beach with his heart thudding against his rib cage and his body coiled so tightly he could barely breathe. What air remained in his lungs gushed out his mouth as his gaze locked on the ghostly figure shimmering beneath the moon’s glow in the high tide’s wash. He was moving before he’d even drawn in breath. He didn’t need oxygen; he needed her.

  She stood naked, facing the horizon as if she was waiting for the inevitable sunrise to signal the end of their walkabout and their return to the real world. The Valkyrie who’d invaded his world had disappeared. In her place stood a translucent angel looking so fragile he feared the ocean lapping around her calves would wash her away as easily as a child’s sandcastle. Wading into the water, he wrapped his arms around her and held her to his chest.

  She stiffened before a sigh gushed out of her and she melted against him. “What kept you?”

  Her voice had his body reacting the same way it always did. Only his racing heart and twitching muscles had way more to do with anxiety than lust. He pecked the top of her head and nuzzled her neck. He wasn’t sure whether the gesture was meant to comfort her or himself. “I was too busy staring at your arse.”

  She chuckled and pinched the arms he’d locked around her before hugging them to her chest.

  His feeble attempt to disguise his nerves hadn’t been a complete lie. Even as he’d half run, half stumbled down the beach and through the wash toward her, his traitorous mind hadn’t failed to appreciate the impact of the moonlight illuminating her body. The spell she’d cast over him had transformed him in a little over four weeks. And judging by the lack of blood reaching his brain and the cock stiffening between her butt cheeks, that wasn’t changing anytime soon.

  “How did you know I’d choose the red M&M?” She delivered the question as if she was strolling in the park beside him instead of grinding her butt into his groin.

  He cupped her breasts and caressed her nipples with his thumbs. “I was half expecting you to eat both before I even opened my mouth.”

  She bit his shoulder before pushing back into his groin and wiggling her hips just enough to have him groaning out a curse. “What would you have done if I’d eaten the blue one?”

  That very same thought had run through his head as he’d surrendered to Charlie’s interrogation and begged her for help with his harebrained plan three days ago. Given the tiny window he’d had to work with, there had only been one answer. He slid his hand down her belly, through the narrow triangle of soft hair leading between her thighs, and pulled up just short of mission control. “Abduct you.”

  She moaned and rubbed her butt up and down his rigid cock in rhythm with the water swirling around their calves. “I thought you’d be sick of me by now.”

  He fought his rabid hunger, but he’d played a game he couldn’t win. And the woman trapped in his arms sure as hell knew that as well. He folded like the infatuated amateur he was before her wandering fingers had even come close to their intended target. Scooping her into his arms, he waded up the beach as her fingers tangled in his hair and her tongue danced with his. Laying her gently on the sand, he pinned her body with his and allowed the Coral Sea to lap at their feet.

  He’d never get sick of her. That single undeniable truth struck him like a kick to the gut. Her compassion, her intelligence, her spirit, the way she set him ablaze with just a touch, and those damned eyes he’d willingly lose himself in for eternity. He inhaled every whispered moan as she spread her thighs and invited him into her body.

  He froze the instant the head of his cock brushed the folds of her sex. “Condom.”

  Partway between a groan and a curse, the word ground between his clenched teeth. He pushed up only to have her arms tighten around him and drag him back down. He’d lost count of the times they’d made love, but he’d always been sheathed when he’d lost himself inside her. She was on the pill, and they’d both had enough experience with the sexy times to know how to protect themselves and their partners. Yet that thin layer of latex had provided a lot more than just physical protection. Without it this crazy adventure was no longer a holiday fling and they were no longer just friends with benefits.

  He stilled and stared into her searching eyes. “You sure?”

  She slid a hand between their bodies while pecking his still lips. “Get in here, cowboy.”

  With one hand locked around his manhood and the other caressing his cheek she raised her hips and engulfed the head of his cock. Despite her reassuring smile, she knew exactly where she was taking them and looked almost as nervous as he felt. Like gravity, she drew him in until there was only her. Surrendering, he eased inside her and joined their bodies.

  She tightened her embrace, locked her legs around his waist, and trapped him in a world he never wanted to escape. Easing his arms free, he captured her face in his hands and stared down at the woman who’d changed everything. She stilled beneath him as she finally saw what he could no longer hide from her or himself.

  Everything suddenly makes sense. Nothing else matters. Because there’s only her.

  Ryder’s words drifted through his head as he gazed at the woman he loved.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Perfect. The word was so cliché, so overused, but as Olivia leaned back into Jarrah’s embrace, it was the only thing she could come up with to describe the last four weeks. The sunrise she’d dreaded sliced through the horizon and crept just that little bit higher with every wave washing onto the beach. The sun’s rays slowly banished the moonlight that’d illuminated the most unforgettable night of her life and warmed the salt and sand encrusted skin the gentle dawn breeze had chilled. Her next sunrise would be seven thousand miles away. And she’d have to endure it without the man who’d changed everything. She drew the thick ocean air into her lungs and forced herself to smile despite the nagging ache in her chest.

  He tightened his embrace and kissed the top of her head as if he’d heard the argument her heart was having with her brain. They hadn’t spoken since he’d answered her teasing question by showing her just how sick and tired he’d gotten of her. Then again, what the hell do you say after something like that? What they’d shared beneath the stars with the ocean lapping around them hadn’t been two friends with benefits sharing a vacation fling. It hadn’t even been two lovers saying good-bye with one final hell of a bang. Everything she’d secretly hoped for and dreaded all at the same time had lurked in his eyes as he’d cradled her face in his hands and undeniably made love to her.

  She’d wanted to scream for joy and slap the shit out of him all at the same time. He was meant to be the practical partner in their contract. He should’ve been the responsible one. The one to keep things from getting out of hand and to ensure no one broke the terms of their agreement. Yet, no matter how hard she tried blaming him for the emotions twisting her inside out, she’d been driving when they’d skidded off the road and crashed into crazy town. Instead of flipping him onto his back and giving him one last fucking that’d ruin him for all other women, she’d wrapped her arms and legs around his body and surrendered to him.

  The selfish part of her wanted to cling to him and ride him all the way back into the desert. But love, true love, the type of love that led to real-world happily ever afters, didn’t happen in four weeks. And it sure as hell couldn’t survive two career-focused workaholics living in opposite hemispheres while they attempted to make the impossible work.

  Olivia stiffened as memories of Abi and Ryder’s fairy-tale love affair joined the chaos in her head. As if taunting her from fiv
e hundred miles away, Abi jabbed a finger at her, shook her head, and called her a chicken-shit little bitch for giving up so easily. Which was freaking easy for her sister to say.

  Unlike Abi and Ryder, Olivia and the man sitting silently behind her and pretending not to read her thoughts had careers and lives waiting for them back in the real world. And neither of them battled a life-threatening disease that could kill them in the blink of an eye. She and Jarrah had the ultimate luxury of time. Time to figure out if what they shared was real. And time to comprehend just what the hell to do about it if it was.

  She could almost hear Jarrah ordering himself to relax as he slowly exhaled and continued caressing circles of fire over her shoulders with his fingertips. Abi once again barged through her thoughts. Only this time her sister simply crossed her arms over her chest and glared at her.

  So she and Jarrah sometimes knew what the other thought. So their eyes locked whenever one of them entered a room. So their hands automatically found each other whenever they were in reach. So she felt his heart beating inside her own chest as they sat naked in the sand watching their last sunrise together. So she’d sensed the tension rippling through his body even before his fingers stilled on her shoulders and his arms tightened around her. So what? Did that mean she had to give up her career and move her life across an ocean on the off chance whatever they felt for each other would survive the real world?

  She didn’t have to search far to find evidence of just how far apart fairy tales and reality were. With every minute shift of her bodyweight, the sand wedged between her butt cheeks worked its way into places Deborah Kerr and Burt Lancaster never had to deal with in From Here to Eternity’s famous make-out scene. Clenching her ass to remind herself of just how gritty and uncomfortable real life was, she slowly turned and froze as the nagging ache in her chest sank its talons into her heart and tore it apart.