by Lan LLP
After we released the fish, Carson asks me if I’m ready to see land again. I happily shake my head, and he gives Henri a hand signal to turn the boat around. Twenty minutes later, Henri docks the boat into its personal spot, drops the anchor and secures the line. I thank him kindly for an awesome adventure with an innocent smile while he offers me a flirtatious one in return. Carson has an exasperated expression on his face as he observes my interaction with Henri. My, oh my, Mr. Bradley has a jealous side, I mentally note. I wonder if this is due to his only child syndrome. Though I’m also an only child, I’m proud to say that I don’t share any of their downfalls. I pay no attention to his silent tantrum as I continue my small talk with Henri. I refuse to condone bad manners.
Carson doesn’t like that I’m ignoring his silent jealous tantrum and decides to correct the situation his way. He confidently steps in between us, shakes Henri’s hand and places his free arm possessively around my waist. His boldness surprises me, not in a good way either. I complete my farewell with Henri while remaining fixed in Carson’s arm, slightly irritated. This is a man who’s not afraid to stake his claim. We’re not even dating yet, and he’s already overprotective. This doesn’t sit well with me, and I’m not afraid to let him know it either.
Chapter 7
Lillian Ly
We’re both famished from our fishing excursion. My stomach is pleading through intermittent growling rumbles. Argh, be quiet! I warn it and attempt to muffle the embarrassing sounds. I think Carson may have overheard my stomach’s appeal for food. He graciously invites me back to his place for an early dinner-late lunch. I’m not sure if it’s wise for me to accept. Everything is moving so quickly, and I haven’t had a second to absorb what’s happening between us. It’s been a whirlwind of a day for my hot and cold emotions. I really don’t have a place for him in my life now or ever. He’ll just be here for a month and then what? Will I be able to cut him out of my life after that? I don’t think I can. I’m already affected by him, and it’s just our first day together. I’m torn as I debate the pros and cons.
“Lillian, will you stay for dinner?” he asks me again in a warm, deep voice.
“Um…sure, but I have to get back to the dorm as soon as we’re done,” I hesitantly accept.
“No problem, I’ll make sure you get home safely. Now let’s talk about food. I haven’t eaten here yet, but there’s a personal chef who can cook just about anything your appetite desires.”
“Carson, I’m not picky at all. I’m as low maintenance as women come. I’ll eat whatever you choose.” He smiles at my frank reply, making his adorable one-sided dimple dig deeper into his cheek. I’m beginning to really love dimples.
“Okay, then I’ll surprise you,” he replies and turns the SUV into a private gated entrance. Carson flashes a red-colored tag to the guards and the metal gates slide open. He drives up to a grand circle driveway and parks in the front, seemingly unaffected by the lavishness of this place. The valet crew courteously takes his key fob and assists me out of the truck. Service here is as impressive as the villa. It’s incredible, just as I predicted. White granite columns line the front entrance while two walls of waterfall command my immediate attention. Both waterfalls drain into a serene pond of rainbow colored Koi fish and light pink lotus flowers.
Carson must be really high up on the corporate ladder for his company to pay for him to stay at a premier resort like this. I guess this is how the wealthy indulges. I shake my head at the surplus and luxury this place offers to their elite guests while people struggle to find their next meal just on the opposite side of the fence. I’ll never fit into this way of living, nor would I ever want to. I turn to grab my books from the backseat before the valet drives Carson’s SUV away. I can’t neglect my studying. “Mr. Bradley, um…Carson, I’m going to study while we wait for dinner, if that’s okay with you.”
He agrees. “Take as long as you need. I also have some work to do.” Lifting the heavy books out of my arms, he leads me down a hallway to his room. The bedroom is expansive, more space than a single person would ever need. A grand executive desk is anchored at the opposite end of the bed. The personal living room is complete with a dark leather sofa, two matching arm chairs and a white marble coffee table. It feels forbidden for me to be in a man’s bedroom. “Where do you typically study at your dorm?” he randomly asks me with my books in one arm.
“I usually park myself on my bed or my sofa,” I answer and wonder why he’d ask me that peculiar question. Taking my hand, he laces his fingers between mine and leads me towards his enormous king size bed, adorned with six decorative pillows.
“Come with me,” he coaxes and then places his right hand at the small of my back. My body stiffens as I panic silently. Now, I’m starting to see the meaning behind his peculiar question about my study habits. My heart hammers rapidly while bees buzz frantically in my stomach. I have no doubt that my flushed expression is giving me away. I’ve never been able to hide my emotions well. This is why I’m a terrible poker player. He must’ve sensed my uneasiness and reassures me, “Don’t worry. It’s not what you think. As much as I’d love to have my way with you, I’ll wait ‘til you deem me your Mr. Happy Ending.” He smiles and my heart races even faster after hearing him confess how much he wants me. My affirmation is the only thing that’s keeping us apart. His integrity is surreal.
Placing my books neatly on the edge of the bed, he slowly guides my body down. His closeness pushes my heart to beat fast again. He lays his firm, muscular body on top of mine with his elbows resting on either side of my head to support him. “Would it be okay for me to kiss you before you begin your studies? I’ve had your lips on my mind all day.” I reach up to his mouth, and he seals his lips over mine, wasting no time and holding nothing back. Our tongues entwine, gliding smoothly like silk. We’re lip-locked without air for what seems like forever. Unwillingly, he pulls himself away to allow me to catch my breath, but I didn’t want it to end. Who cares about breathing when I have his lips over mine? “I better stop while I still can. Because once my will power is gone, I can’t guarantee that I can leave you untouched.” His pupils are dark, and his expression is sinful. I immediately understand his meaning as soon as I feel his constrained erection pressed against my throbbing cleft.
“You should’ve taken me to the sofa instead of the bed,” I innocently place the blame on him.
“Lily, it wouldn’t matter where I put you, I’d still want you just the same.” And with this last confession, he pushes himself hastily away from me, takes in a sharp breath and straightens his lanky body. He walks over to the other side of the room, picks the phone up and makes a call to the butler for our dinner arrangements. I find myself disappointed from our separation. What’s happening to me? I’m a sex-craved, walking, hot mess! Things are moving way too fast, but I don’t seem to care. I want him physically as much as he wants me. Tame it down, hot mess, I warn myself. I sit up and grab my books from the corner.
In the beginning, I can’t seem to comprehend a single thing I read. He’s more distracting than I want to admit. When he assumed I wasn’t paying any attention to him, I’d catch him peeking over his laptop, darting his hypnotic green eyes back and forth from me to his computer. Right now, he’s leaning comfortably back on his leather chair with a pen loosely gripped between his fingers. His thumb is resting at the corner of his mouth while he’s deep in thought, staring into his screen. I inhale a breath and blow it out with, God, he’s so sexy. I want him more than I ever imagined at that moment. I change my positions a few more times, but still couldn’t focus. I finally had to turn myself away from facing him while lying flat on my belly with my legs bent and ankles crossed. As soon as my distraction disappeared, I was able to study for almost an hour.
The phone rings, and the butler is on the other end, notifying Carson that dinner is ready. He wants to know where we would like to eat. Carson tells him that he’ll give him an answer in a few minutes, hangs up and paces over to the bed in a
split second. He leans down and lies on his side next to me while propping his head with his right hand. “Where would you like to eat, Miss Ly? I mean Lily,” he inquires while tenderly stroking the hair in front of my face behind my ears.
“I’ll leave it up to you since you’re familiar with this place,” I insist.
“I guess it’s up to me then,” he replies in a delighted tone. He gets up and gives me a gentle and unexpected spank on my barely, covered, right cheek as he walks away.
“What’s that for?” I ask him as my face reddens instantly.
“That’s for giving me a teasing view of your hot ass for the longest hour of my life and depriving me of touching it,” he smirks and narrows his playful eyes at me. My face turns even redder than a cherry. I’d forgotten that all I’m wearing is a bikini and Isabella’s hand-me-down cover-up. God, I hope he didn’t think that I was purposely taunting him for the last hour because I’m so not the type to play those stupid girlie games.
“I honestly didn’t mean to. I hope you believe me,” I quickly defend my honor. He nods his head with his lips curled up on one side, looking like he’s pretending to believe me. Great, this is—not a good first impression for me. I pull down on my short cover-up, but it really doesn’t do much. There’s no way I’m leaving his room to have dinner in a bikini. “Carson, can we eat in your room instead? All I’m wearing is this.” I point to my top and bottom, giving him a disapproving face.
“Your bathing suit is perfect for where we’re having dinner.” He grins. Can I trust him? I excuse myself to freshen up in his large bathroom. My attempt to contain my unruly waves of thick, silky hair is useless, so I give up and let it lay naturally over my shoulders.
Once again, he takes my hand, interlaces our fingers together and leads me down a steep, stone stairway. He cautiously watches my steps. When we finally reach the bottom, I see a beautiful table dressed with white linen and warm, candle lighting all around. The location is picture perfect, by the seashore and underneath a huge tropical tree with thousands of red-orange colored blossoms. Our dinner music is the calming sound of water, surging back and forth, gliding over sand. A cool breeze dominates the usual hot, humid air, making the atmosphere perfectly balanced. The sun is almost completely set with just an eclipse of bright amber and sanguine hues combined, creating the romantic ambience we need. This is my Hollywood romance movie come to life. So what if it’s cliché of me to admit that? I’ve subconsciously wished for a perfect day like this ever since I was a teenager, but was too disciplined to admit it. I want what every young woman dreams of, a happy ending with Prince Charming.
My chair is courteously pulled out for me and then he helps me settle closer to the table. Reaching above my head, he picks one delicate red-orange blossom and tucks it in my unruly wavy hair. “Lily, it’s impossible for me to take my eyes off of you. You’re mesmerizing.”
I blush immediately. “Thank you. This has been an amazing day. I haven’t allowed myself to breathe or enjoy life until now.” I stare at him with my appreciative, brown eyes feeling so fulfilled.
He leans across the table and gives me a tender kiss on my forehead. “Lily, you have no idea how much you’ve affected mine as well. Can I say we’re a perfect fit then?”
Gosh, there’s that gorgeous smile on his face again. I gasp. “I guess we are,” I willingly agreed with him, trying not to appear too excited.
Dinner is just fabulous. Carson doesn’t omit any big or small details. Our personal chef prepared Italian meals and selected an elite wine of our choice. We’re served grilled white fish over a bed of pasta in a buttery wine sauce with clams and a side of spicy green veggies. The food is delicious, but my anxiety prevents me from eating more than just a few bites. The butler pours Moscato, my preference, into a tall wine glass and pours red wine into Carson’s. My eyes distractedly gaze at the rising bubbles in my glass, knowing I’ll probably end up with a wine coma if I finish it. I graciously take mini sips here and there with small bites of my food, but it hardly seems like I drank from it at all.
He glances at my glass and points out that mine is still full, and his is completely emptied. “Do you not like your wine? Would you like a different selection?” he considerately offers.
“No, everything is wonderful. I’m slowly savoring it,” I assure him and then gulp the entire glass down in seconds. The butler is too darn attentive. He immediately tops it off again as soon as I set my empty glass on the table. I take another bite of my fish and then finished the second glass, too. Carson observes my silly antics with a subtle grin. I’m not sure what I’m trying to prove because this isn’t like me to pretend to be someone I’m not. Once again, the butler comes over to fill my glass. I wisely cut him off after he fills it half way. Since Carson’s eyes are still locked on me, I wait a few minutes before I drink the last of my wine. How stupid was that? About twenty minutes later, my head begins to spin, and I feel warm and flushed. I rest my forehead into my clammy left hand.
Carson immediately comes over to my side. “Lily, are you ok? You’re warm and damp. You had two and a half glasses of wine in probably five minutes on an almost empty stomach.” His tone is full of concern.
“I hardly ever drink alcohol and have a low tolerance for it. I’m part Asian with that awful anti-alcohol enzyme deficiency.” I try my best to lighten my embarrassing situation.
“I gathered that.” He smiles sympathetically and lifts me up from the chair with ease. He wraps me up in his arms and carries me back to his room. I bury my head in his hard chest and listen to the rhythmic throbbing of his heart to deter the annoying spinning in my head, but it’s relentless. It won’t stop. I’m gently placed in the center of the bed before he runs to the bathroom for a cool washcloth and drapes it across my forehead. I rest my warm, clammy hand on top of his.
“I’m sorry I ruined dinner. You didn’t even get to have dessert,” I apologize.
“Please don’t give it another thought. There’ll be plenty more dinners in our future,” he reassures me. “And who’s to say I can’t have my dessert later on this evening?” he teasingly adds, and taps the tip of my nose with his index finger.
My cell phone rings from my backpack. Carson sprints over to grab it and glides his fingertip across the screen to answer it for me. “Where the hell are you? I’ve haven’t seen you all day!” Amelia shouts loudly and irately through the phone.
“Miss McFarland, Lillian is here with me,” he attempts to explain in a calm voice, but she cuts him off and curtly demands to speak to me. He hands me the phone.
“Amelia, I’m here, having dinner with Carson. Everything is fine.” She settles down as soon as she hears my voice. “I’ll be home…”
Cutting me off midway, Carson snatches the phone from me and tells her, “Miss McFarland, I’ll have her back first thing in the morning. Goodnight.” I shake my head disapprovingly as he taps the screen to end the call. My eyes narrow and glare in his direction, but it has no effect on him.
The spinning in my head is like a tornado on a lethal path as I argue with him, “I can’t stay here. You have to take me back. Amelia will make sure I’ll be okay.” I might be nauseous and dizzy, but I still have my wits. I can’t miss any classes tomorrow.
“Lily, I’ll take care of you tonight. End of discussion,” he snips sternly with no weakness in his tone. I defiantly roll out of bed and land completely flat on my ass. This will bruise tomorrow, but I don’t care because I’m so angry with him and myself. He drops to the floor where I’m pathetically stretched out and lifts me back onto the bed. “Why are you being so stubborn? I just want to make sure you’ll be okay,” he huffs.
“You’re not responsible for me!” I snap. “I need a shower, and I have nothing clean to wear,” I mumble under my breath. He lifts me out of bed and carries me to an enormous glass stall. “What are you doing?” I panic.
“You want a shower, here it is. You can wear my clothes for tonight,” he insists with a little bite in his tone and
then sets me down on my feet while supporting me.
“I’ll undress myself, if you don’t mind. I need some privacy, please,” I demand with my arms crossed in front of my chest, being as stubborn as he is. As soon as he releases me, I lose my balance immediately and stumble against the wall. I puff out a loud and frustrating sigh.
“It appears to me that you’ll need my help if you want a shower tonight.” He looks at me less seriously. I think he’s enjoying this all too much, but I can’t pass a hot shower. My body feels filthy from fishing, and I’m hoping the water will improve my dizziness. If it does, I plan to escape tonight whether he likes it or not. No one can keep me against my will.
I agree on two conditions. “First, you have to keep your eyes closed the entire time and second, our backs have to face each other.” He nods his head with a mischievous smirk. I slowly peel my tiny bikini off my body, drop it by my feet, feeling completely insecure and shy. God, I hope he’s not watching me. How’ll I ever compare to all the perfect, beautiful bodies he’s already seen? He begins to unbutton his shirt. “Hold on, what do you think you’re doing?” I quickly stop him.
“I don’t want my clothes to get wet while I help you in the shower,” he replies innocently with his eyes still sealed. I’m sure this is a real concern of his, I think sarcastically. Argh! I give up. I’m tired of arguing with him because it doesn’t seem to get me anywhere. He casually strips down before me as I remind myself not to watch him. Every inch of him is unflawed. His skin, so smooth and unblemished; his muscle tone is healthy, not overly bulky. His ass…Stop your gawking! Let’s make it a quick shower, and don’t touch him or you’re doomed, I warn myself in his sexy presence. I cautiously step into the glass case with his guidance while his eyes are semi-closed which seems asinine to me, but it’s my rule. I immediately release his hand to break off our contact as soon as I’m on my side of the shower. Who am I fooling? It doesn’t matter if we’re not touching; the closeness of our bodies still makes it impossible for me to resist him.
