by Debra Fisk
“Thank you.” Luciana took the tote from Courtney. “Am I the last one to arrive?” She glanced at her watch. Noah scanned her schedule, looking for any sign, like an address or directions, that she was meeting someone later.
“Just about,” Courtney said. “We’re waiting on one more, and then you’re all accounted for. The welcome reception for GTG is at six. So you have time to relax or freshen up if you like. I’ll have someone drive you to your villa.”
Noah hung in the background, feigning disinterest and keeping a safe distance but still in earshot. Later on, he would arrange a chance meeting where he’d try to ply Luciana with his charm so they could hopefully get together later for a cup of a detective’s life-force—coffee. He turned and slipped out a side door and checked the time. He had thirty minutes until the GTG reception started. That left him plenty of time to go to his villa, change, and stop off to have a word with Luke. If he hurried, he could get there before everyone arrived.
He jogged along the path that led to the McBain Security office. Knocking on the door but not waiting for a reply, he walked in on Luke with his arms around a beautiful, exotic-looking woman. The two looked surprised but happy, obviously sharing a special moment, something Noah would never again experience.
“Excuse me. Should I come back later?”
Luke smiled and twirled the raven-haired woman around. “Noah Donovan, I’d like you to meet my wife, Arielle.”
She was stunning, with midnight-black hair and eyes and pale, flawless skin. She gave her husband’s arm a gentle squeeze. “Nice to meet you. Call me Ari.”
Noah used his go-to line and a smile. “Ari. Luke, you’re a lucky man.” Luke was lucky, but Noah felt luckier.
*****
Luciana couldn’t believe that fortune favored her for once. She’d scrimped and saved for this trip, and now she was bumped up from a regular room to a gorgeous villa. Even better, she had the entire villa to herself. A nagging feeling of Italian guilt crept slowly into her brain. There was enough room for Marco here. The online rules and the documents she signed via email had stated a long list of no’s, two of which were: NO family members could stay with the contestant, and NO fraternizing with hotel staff. Not that she was interested in meeting a man. The thousands of attempts by her mother to brainwash her into wanting to get married had worked at stripping away her idealism and individuality for a little while.
From the time she was small, Luciana had dreamed big, only to have her mother knock those dreams down. She remembered every hurtful comment and look of disgust her mother had given her. Luciana’s dreams were unacceptable, as far as her mother was concerned, simple as that.
Once, when she was very young, Luciana had walked into the kitchen, where her mother was in her usual position by the stove, stirring something, and she’d turned to her with a smile. “Do you want to help?”
Luciana shook her head no and announced, “When I grow up, I’m going to be an archaeologist. I’ll go to Egypt and discover more pyramids and uncover lost mummies.”
Her mother replied, “By the time you grow up, everything will already be discovered.” Each word had been a cutting blow, but they hadn’t stopped Luciana from dreaming big dreams, only acting upon them.
She wasn’t going to be a slave to the kitchen like her mother and aunt. No, she was going to be different and single. She would rather work sixty hours a week at her job, than be cooking and cleaning at home. It’s why she’d gotten her own apartment and moved out ten years earlier, so she could live alone. When she wasn’t working, she used the time to dream up different ways to achieve the success she wanted, and no one was going to stand in her way.
Smiling with satisfaction, she knew this was her chance for a new beginning. The Golden Ticket Contest would open doors for her future, and Marco’s problems didn’t fit into her business plan. She’d help him to a point, but it would be a cold day in hell before she let him ruin her chances.
Why did she ever agree to meet with him? No one else knew where he was or what was going on. Her mother was sick with worry. Aunt Rosalie and her mother had all of their friends praying the rosary three times day. Luciana had tried to assure her that Marco was fine without letting on that he’d contacted her twice. She didn’t want to get their mother’s hopes up until she knew what Marco had to say about what was going on with him.
She freshened up and changed into a flirty little pale blue sundress with a few sprays of white flowers around the hem and a pair of wedge sandals. She applied some lip gloss, and then, after brushing her long hair, she twisted it into a French knot. In a hurry, she whipped on her sunglasses, grabbed her purse, and left to walk briskly down the stone trail.
The sun’s position hung so low it looked like it was about to fall on top of the resort. The hot rays heated her skin, and she made a mental note to remember sunscreen tomorrow, even though she usually tanned quickly. Slipping her sunglasses on top of her head to take in all of the lush landscaping, she shielded her eyes with her hand while staring at the gorgeous dark blue sky. Distracted by the clear view, she walked right into a wall, except it wasn’t really a wall at all. It was a hard, muscular, six-foot-two, deliciously spice-scented hunk of a hot sexy man.
With her cheek pressed flat against his chest, she froze, unable and unwilling to move. Oh, he did smell so nice. She slowly slid her face up to get a better look at his face. Wow! The face matched his sinewy body. His hair was gorgeous, golden bronze, like a Greek god, and his eyes were dove gray, or maybe they were blue. She didn’t want to stare too deeply or get drool on his shirt, but lingered to allow her heart a few more beats against his chest before she pulled away, sucked in a breath, and blurted out a feeble, “So sorry.” She was mortified that she was crushing on a total stranger, and aware he probably knew it, but damn, he was handsome.
Not sorry in the least, she lingered even longer. Unsteady in her heels, she tipped forward and pressed a little harder against him. He gently gripped her arms to help her back on her feet and smiled. Luciana had just died and gone to heaven. But this couldn’t be heaven if she was having thoughts of sin. Could it? Her eyes scanned his, and she saw the amusement dancing in his. Her gaze dropped to his perfect crisp white shirt. To her horror, she noticed her pink lip gloss had smeared two streaks right across the front of his chest. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. Was her mouth really that big?
*****
Fate thrust Luciana right into Noah’s arms. For once, the universe decided to smile down on him. What were the chances he’d slam right into her? She was so close, and he kind of liked the way she felt against him. A sudden jolt shot through him like the very ground their feet rested on was electrified. She did something to his insides, stirring up emotions he’d thought were dead long ago.
On his way back from his meeting with Luke McBain, Noah was kicking himself for running late when Courtney had spotted him on the way to his villa. He’d had to take the scenic route along the beach to avoid getting hung up with her. He hadn’t wanted anything to interfere with meeting Luciana Talarico.
And now, here she was, pressed up against him in an intimate embrace, and he still didn’t want anything to interfere. To say he was enjoying it was an understatement. She was breathtaking, with a natural beauty and pale gray eyes that looked up from under thick dark lashes, her full, glossy lips just begging to be kissed. It was all he could do to restrain himself from taking a little taste. He wondered if they were soft. Would she respond to his kiss? He released her before he got carried away in this extraordinary bit of serendipity.
“I’m sorry, Miss…?”
“Luciana, but my friends call me Ana. I’m afraid I’ve left lip prints on your chest.” She pointed her index finger at the pink smudge. “I’ll be happy to pay for having your shirt cleaned,” she murmured with a worried smile.
Noah didn’t give a damn about the stained shirt. He was more interested in her. She was different. A real beauty. Not heavily made up like a lot of women—natura
l. Inhaling her scent, he noted a hint of raspberry, and lemon fragrance laced her hair. He wanted to drink it in.
“No need, I’m very resourceful.” He’d use the resort laundry service, and if that didn’t work, he’d get rid of the shirt. “I’m Noah, by the way.”
Her pale eyes narrowed, and she took a step back to study him. “Didn’t I see you in the lobby?” She placed her hands on her hips. “Are you following me?”
Was she serious or joking? “Is there a reason I should be following you?” He wanted to make her squirm. She was unaware he was posing as one of the resort’s security officers. “I don’t even know you”—liar—“but for some reason I feel like I do. But to answer your question, yes. I was in the lobby earlier.” He flashed her a smile. “How do I know you’re not following me?” He took a step forward and leaned close to her face. Sexual tension sizzled through the air. Something about the way she looked at him caused him to burn with desire. “I’ve been told my charm is irresistible,” he teased.
She relaxed her stance. “I bet you have.” She reached into her purse and pulled out a frayed pink leather wallet. “Please allow me to pay for the dry cleaning. It’s the least I can do.” Her eyes pleaded, and he wished they were pleading for a kiss instead.
“I can’t take your money as payment.” He placed his fingers over hers and gently squeezed. Her hand was warm. The contact sent a jolt straight to his groin. He paused, then said, “But I’ll let you repay me with a walk on the beach at sunset.” The words rolled off his tongue so easily. He had to tread carefully. He wasn’t looking for a relationship. He was looking for Marco. But there was something about her that caused him to throw caution to the wind and put his heart at risk. He convinced himself he was safe; it was all part of the plan.
She shook her head and frowned. “I can’t. I’m late for a meeting, and I have no idea how long I’ll be.”
“Then don’t let me keep you. I’m sure I’ll see you around.” Like in ten minutes. “You can owe me. What do you say?”
She laughed. “You’re persistent. I’ll think about it.” She dropped her wallet back into her purse, slung her bag over her shoulder, then tapped her sunglasses down over her eyes. “When and if I see you around again, we’ll talk about it.”
He moved aside and let Luciana pass. As he watched her walk away, he couldn’t help feel a sense of disappointment.
Chapter Three
Ana arrived at the Golden Ticket reception, but before opening the door, she paused to smooth out the dress clinging to her perspiration-covered skin. The steamy Florida evening might be hot, but Noah, or whatever his name was, definitely lit her fire. Golden-brown hair, chiseled features, and a hard muscular body to go with them. A pair of gunmetal eyes that made her weep inside when they rested on her outside her villa, and a smile that could heat her up on the chilliest of winter nights.
Her cheeks burned at the memory of bright lip gloss smeared across his chest, and the whiff of his spicy cologne still hung in her nostrils. He was the first man she’d reacted to since Russ. Grabbing the handle of the door for support, she couldn’t believe it had been two years, but there were moments when the pain was still raw.
Guilt. Why did she feel it? Russ had instigated the argument. Wanting to be free of her for the night, he’d hopped on his motorcycle, gone out with some tramp, and gotten drunk. They’d both ended up twisted in a crumpled pile of metal at the base of a tree.
The gentle clacking of high heels on the stone walkway caused her to jump. Ana turned around. “Hey, wait for me.”
The voice belonged to the blonde from the airport. Great. Bubbling Bikini-in-a-Bag closed in on her. It wasn’t like she hadn’t expected to see her again. Shoes clicked in rapid succession as she approached. “Oh, hey, I saw you at the airport. Remember me? We were in line at Einstein’s bagels together.”
Kind of hard to forget. “Yeah, vaguely. I had a lot on my mind.” Like a brother who’s in some sort of trouble and my product line.
“I’m Melonie, Melonie Sparks.” Free of her formfitting exercise clothes, she glowed like a pink explosion. Perfectly tanned skin, over-whitened teeth, and bright fuchsia lips completed the look of a beach model dressed in a Pepto-Bismol-colored sundress. Melonie’s golden hair hung a few inches above her waist, and she reminded Ana of the Malibu Barbie she had growing up. Her shape matched Barbie’s too.
“Luciana, but I go by Ana.” She noticed Melonie had a gorgeous Chanel purse to match her outfit. “We’re already late, so we better go inside.”
She needed to keep her eye on the prize and stop letting all these things distract her. She was in Barefoot Bay for a reason—the Golden Ticket Contest. That’s what was important, and Melonie, Marco, and even the hot guy would just have to get out of her head. “Come on.”
Once inside, they found a table with their name badges and two packets. The air smelled of roasted pineapple and sizzling meat, a mixture of savory spices with a touch of sweetness. Her stomach squeezed. She hadn’t eaten since the bagel at the airport. Panning the room, she saw that Golden Ticket had spared no expense working their theme into magic. The lush tropical outdoors had been brought inside, with palm trees and floral displays splashed about, while large props from the new Golden Ticket Skincare line were everywhere she looked.
“Wow. Now this is my kind of party.” Melonie took a few steps forward. “I don’t know if I should start with a drink or go straight for the food.” She touched her index finger to her chin, contemplating her decision.
Warm breath gently brushed Ana’s ear and sent chills down her back. “I would start with a drink if I were you,” a smooth, husky voice whispered.
Startled, she jumped. Why was he here? She turned and couldn’t stop the smile that grew when she looked at Noah. So much for her affirmation about keeping her eye on the prize.
“Are you following me?”
He’d changed into a formal suit that fit him so perfectly that it looked as if he’d been sewn inside. Gorgeous fabric—black, with a sheen, and a silk shirt and silk tie. Sheer perfection. The man could dress. He could probably wear a black garbage bag and make it look good, though. Or nothing—that would be even better. Her cheeks flamed at the thought.
He furrowed his brows. “Again with the following.” His steely eyes twinkled with mischief. Every cell in her body stood at attention with his nearness. It didn’t matter why he was there. Her insides were happy he was.
“How else should I take it?” One minute, she was drooling all over is chest, and the next he was at the same private function as she was. How did he crash the reception?
“I have business here of my own.”
“Really?” She arched an eyebrow. “You’re with the contest?” She was skeptical. There had to be more to it. Heads were beginning to turn their way. The women were looking at Noah. Like they had with Russ, women seemed to notice Noah. Both were the type of men women were drawn to. Handsome, broad-chested, strong arms, and they oozed sex appeal without even trying. She could easily fall victim to his charm. Not that she’d allow it, but a little harmless flirtation couldn’t hurt. Could it? It had been so long since Russ. She squelched the thoughts. There wasn’t any room in her life for bad memories.
“Who’s your friend?” He motioned with his head in Melonie’s direction. Ana could tell Noah was sizing up the blonde bombshell wrapped in pink walking toward the bartender.
The room was filled with women, who Ana assumed were the contestants, but there were also a few men. Tropical steel-drum music played in the background and set the mood for a festive evening. The food smelled and looked fabulous. One long table lined with silver trays held everything from olives and cheeses, to toasted coconut shrimp, chicken, and steak dishes.
“Melonie, and we aren’t friends, by the way. We met at the airport. We were on the same flight to Fort Myers from Atlanta.” She tried to change the subject. “I should go introduce myself to the contest staff. I’ll be right back.”
He plac
ed a hand on her arm. “Don’t stay away too long.” He looked deep into her eyes. “Meet me over by the desserts. We can start there and work our way around the room.”
She turned to walk away with a wide grin and called over her shoulder, “Now that’s a plan I can live with.”
Ana made her way over to the Golden Ticket officials, a panel of six men and four women, all of whom were quite charming. As she chatted with each one briefly, she kept an eye on Noah, who had gone to the far corner of the room. With an air of familiarity, he shook hands with a large, solid-looking man. From what she could tell, he must work for the hotel.
Noah looked in her direction and smiled, tipping his head in the direction in the direction of the dessert table. She excused herself and walked over to the far corner of the room where a flowing chocolate fountain called her name. Her attention was broken when her phone buzzed. A message. It had to be Marco trying to reach her. She felt around in the bottom of her bag, pulled out the phone, and glanced at the text on the screen.
Why haven’t you called?
Yikes. She’d forgotten to call her mother. There was nothing worse than a worried Italian mother. They were known to disrupt and nose around an entire situation in the name of concern.
She texted back, Flight delayed. Will call you soon. Love you.
That should buy her a little time. Noah took long strides and reached the table at the same time that she tossed her phone back into her bag and grabbed a small plate from the table. She’d self-medicate with a little carb therapy and then make the call.
She struggled with her family dynamic. Marco could do no wrong, no matter how much trouble he caused. While she worked so hard to gain her parents’ approval, Marco had their approval even when he made the biggest mistakes of his life. Not once did they ever take her side. Yet, the Italian guilt weighed her down. Why else would she be trying to help him when he didn’t care about anyone but himself?
