by Oliver, Tess
Taylor stepped out of the back room. “There’s an email from Boone.”
“Great,” Nick said. He hurried to the back and Pierre followed.
While the men were in one of their backroom meetings, I decided to write an email of my own. Letting my mom know that I was working for Cindy Hampton’s son would make her day. Of course, all of her days were glorious, what with expensive spa visits and limitless shopping at exclusive boutiques, but still, my new tidbit of information would definitely add to her delight. I might even get top billing over my sister’s third wedding for this.
I was plunking away on my keyboard when the front door opened abruptly. A tall, model-thin girl with puffy lips, big boobs, and ridiculously perfect legs walked in. “Where’s Nick?” Even though I’d only heard it once, there was no mistaking the voice. The infamous Frankie was looking down at me as if I was an odd little bug sitting on the office chair. “Are you Jaylene?”
“Nope,” I said. “I’m not Jaylene.” I decided not to waste my time correcting her since I was fairly certain she’d gotten my name wrong on purpose.
Nick’s door flew open. “What the hell are you doing here, Francesca?”
“Happy to see you too, Nick.” She sashayed past my desk but made sure to sneer down at me first.
Taylor and Pierre scurried out of Nick’s office like frightened mice that had just seen the farmer’s wife with a carving knife.
Taylor shuddered visibly. “I truly hate that woman. Now Nick’s going to be in a shitty mood again, and we’ll probably have to put her up at the house.”
“Make her get a hotel,” Pierre said. He placed his knuckles on my desk and grinned down at me. “This is a perfect opportunity. While the mistress of Hades is here, let’s go to lunch, J.J.. You look like you need a break from that chair, and I know a place with the world’s best shrimp.”
“Can we walk?” I asked. “I definitely need to move.”
“I’d love a walk.”
“But who will watch the front office?” I looked at Taylor pleadingly.
He waved me away. “Go, go. I’ll watch the office.” He tilted his head toward Nick’s door. “Anyhow, someone has to make sure those two don’t kill each other.”
While walking through the center of the city, I forgot momentarily that I was on an island paradise. The sidewalks were crowded and the shops buzzed with activity, but it was a very unique place. We walked through a vast, open-aired market where the tables were stacked with everything from straw purses to papayas. The smell of the fruit made my mouth water.
“I just realized I’m starved,” I said.
Pierre put out his arm for me to take. “Well then, this way, my lovely lunch mate. I know a short cut.”
A breeze had carried in a sprinkling of rain, but the sun was still shining and the air was warm enough to evaporate the drops as soon as they touched my skin. The traffic and crowds were not hurried like in Los Angeles. Every face we passed wore an easy going smile.
“Tell me, Pierre, how long was Nick seeing Francesca?” I’d tried to ignore her sudden appearance but realized that was not going to be easy.
Pierre shook his head. “Too long, that’s all I can say. They were quite the couple at first. I mean, the two of them were stunning together. When they walked into a party or a restaurant, every head turned. And he was crazy about her . . . for awhile. Blinded by beauty, I think. But with a woman like Francesca, it doesn’t take long to see that there is a lot of ugly beneath the gorgeous exterior. Nick figured it out eventually and broke it off. But as you see, she is not willing to let him go.” He laughed. “I knew right from the start that she was not for him. Nick has a lot of layers. Francesca does not. She only cares about Francesca. It just took a bit of time for the brilliance to fade and allow Nick to see through to the flawed stone beneath.”
I squeezed his arm. “Poetically put, Sir.”
“Thank you.” He stopped and motioned me into a small restaurant where colorful paper streamers hung from the ceiling. “And now prepare yourself for a feast.”
“This was a great idea,” I said as the waitress lowered an aromatic plate down in front of me. The shrimp had a vanilla and coconut flavoring that was truly out of this world, and I sucked it down as if it might swim from my plate. “You weren’t kidding about the shrimp being delicious. How long have you been living here in Tahiti?”
Pierre wiped his fingers on his napkin and sat back with a sigh. “I’ve only been here six months.”
“Only six months. Living in paradise for months— must be tough.” I decided not to pursue the question of what he’d been doing here for six months.
“No complaints. Although I confess, I do miss New York on occasion. The island moves pretty slowly and you are rather limited. Even the beach can get dull after awhile.”
“I love the beach. As a teenager, my girlfriends and I used to drive down to Santa Monica and stretch out in the sun for hours. I figure I’ll start to prune by the time I’m thirty. But I’ve never tired of the beach.”
“Yes, but you weren’t surrounded by it twenty-four hours a day.”
“True. I was always glad to get home and get the sand out of my hair. So if you’re tired of the island, will you be leaving it soon?”
He hesitated and took a sip of wine as if he needed a moment to come up with an answer. Then he lowered the glass to the table and smiled up at me. “I’m here for as long as Nick needs me to be here.”
“Oh,” I said. “But Nick is only staying for a month.”
“He didn’t apply for his work visa on time so one month is all he can stay for now. He needs to get the office up and running by then. Once it is running smoothly, he’ll have some local realtors run the place.”
Now the delicious shrimp sat heavily in my stomach. Nick had not mentioned that this job was only one month long. I assumed I would be continuing with Regent Realty back in Los Angeles. It was entirely possible he planned to send me back after a month and that would be the end of it. Now I was really regretting not asking more questions before taking the position.
By the time we’d returned from our delicious lunch, the unexpected visitor had gone, and as Taylor had predicted, Nick’s mood had soured. He stayed in his office the rest of the afternoon, and Pierre offered to drive me home so I could get ready.
I sat next to Pierre in the front seat. “Mr. Jacobson is sending a car around to pick me up at the house.” I looked back at Taylor to see if he was properly impressed. He was.
“That is fancy fucking schmancy,” Taylor said. “I wonder if it will be one of those stretch limos.”
“How come this guy doesn’t come to pick you up on his own? I would like to have met him first,” Pierre said.
“Yes, Father.” I shot Taylor a wink.
“Well, what do we know about him?” Pierre continued.
“You sound just like Nick.”
This statement seemed to surprise both of them. “Nick was worried about the date?” Taylor asked.
“Yeah, he sounded exactly like my other father, Pierre, here.”
Pierre glanced up into the rearview mirror and looked at Taylor in the back seat. “Told you so.”
“Yeah, yeah. You called it, old man,” Taylor said.
“What the heck are you two blathering on about?” I asked.
“Nothing,” they answered simultaneously.
Chapter 10
It was a good forty-five minutes into my dinner slash business date, and I hadn’t seen my date yet. An extremely attentive driver named Max, a broadly built man with a heavy accent, picked me up, and an extremely attentive waiter named John, a short, thin middle-aged man with a ramrod straight posture, made sure that my glass was filled with expensive French wine. I’d also emptied the bread basket completely on my own. My rational was that the bread woul
d soak up the wine and I’d still be sober enough to talk business with the man if he ever arrived.
I glanced around for John, figuring one more basket of bread wouldn’t hurt, when I saw Robert walking toward the table. “I’m sorry I’m late.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, and it dawned on me that I didn’t care for the smell of his cologne. The second he sat, his fingers were snapping in the air and John hurried over.
“Bring us two of your smoked salmon and shrimp salads and two red pepper scallops.”
I loathed a man who ordered for me at a restaurant. My face must have shown my annoyance.
“You’ll love the dishes I ordered,” he said dismissively.
“It’s just that I had shrimp for lunch. But that’s fine.” Truthfully I was so filled up on bread and wine that I really didn’t have much appetite.
He took a deep breath as if he’d been hurrying around all day and had finally taken a second to relax. His eyes gleamed in the candlelight. “You look gorgeous, Jayden.”
“Thank you, so do you.”
He smiled.
“Well, you know what I mean.” I took another sip of wine.
“Do you like the wine I picked?” he asked. “It’s one of their best.”
“Yes, it’s delicious.” I hated to tell him that since I knew very little about wine I would have been just as impressed with a box wine from the liquor store. Although, I had to admit that this particular wine provided a nice little buzz. “So have you given any thought to the house we looked at?”
He shook his head and waved down John again. “Why is there no bread on this table?” Poor, flustered John rushed off to get more another basket.
“It’s my fault there’s no bread on the table,” I said feeling guilty that John just took the blame for my piggishness. “I was hungry and the bread was so good.”
His eyes widened. “That’s a lot of bread for one, small girl.”
Now I was embarrassed. “Yes, I’m not proud of it. I’m just confessing so that you know it wasn’t John’s fault.” John returned immediately with a basket of steaming bread that I decided not to touch for fear that I might be scolded. “So have you given any thought to the house?” I decided to cut right to it because now I wanted this evening to end.
“We’ll talk about that later.” He buttered himself a piece of bread. “Tell me about yourself, Jayden. How long have you been in real estate?”
First question I had not prepared for. “Uh, not long. I was in advertising and marketing before I joined Regent Realty.”
“I see. Why did you leave advertising?” As I opened my mouth to answer, his attention was diverted when John made the mistake of walking past with another table’s food. Robert snapped his fingers again. The tray of food on John’s arm had to weigh more than the man himself, but he stopped at our table.
“There are water spots on my glass, John. Bring me another.” Then he looked back at me, and fortunately, he’d forgotten the question he’d asked me before his arrogant snap of the fingers.
“So are you seeing someone here on the island?” he asked.
I was now missing his previous line of questioning.
“I’ve only just arrived in Tahiti,” I said.
John brought a new wine glass and our salads. I liked shrimp but I definitely didn’t love it enough to eat it twice in one day. And my appetite was completely gone.
Robert picked up his fork but then scowled down at his salad. “This won’t do,” he said. I’d never felt so much pity for a waiter in all my life. John rushed over. “There is not enough shrimp in this salad. Please return it to the chef.” Robert glanced at my plate.
“Mine has more than enough, John, thank you.”
It was as if an entirely different man showed up for dinner than the man I’d shown the house to. He was contemptible and I couldn’t wait for the night to end, but I wasn’t willing to completely give up on the commission yet. I stirred my salad around with my fork, like a kid trying to avoid eating broccoli, hoping that if played with it long enough it would disappear.
“You have beautiful breasts,” Robert said suddenly.
I blinked up at him, but I really had no response. Nick had been right all along about this date, and I’d been naïve enough to think that he was interested in the damn house. Back home, a date like this would have sent me rushing into the ladies’ room to call Rita. Ten minutes later, she’d be interrupting the disastrous dinner with an urgent phone call so I could have an excuse to leave. But I had no cell phone, and no Rita, and I was stuck with the jerk.
An hour later, after watching the creep run John ragged, complain about everything from the temperature of the food to the amount of candlelight, and stare openly at my boobs, I wanted to chew off my own head.
I’d suffered enough that I decided I owed it to myself to bring up the house one more time.
“I’ve had my assistant do some price comparisons,” he said finally, “and the asking price is too high. They’ll need to come down half a million before I’ll consider it.”
So he was a cheap, rich bastard on top of everything else.
“I’ll call the listing agent and find out how firm the price is.” I could not keep the profound disappointment out of my voice. “I’m sorry but all that wine seems to have given me a headache,” I said. “I hope you don’t mind if we cut this evening short.”
He scowled at me. “Not at all. In fact, I’ll page Max to come pick you up. He can drive you home from here. I have another engagement.”
I wondered if he had some other unsuspecting female lined up at another restaurant filling herself on bread and wine. I didn’t give a crap at this point. I just wanted away from the jerk.
I could not have been more relieved to get home. It was barely eleven o’clock, but the house was dark. Taylor and Nick seemed to be asleep. None of us had adjusted completely to the time change yet.
My head felt heavy on my shoulders as I changed into my oversized sleeping t-shirt. That’s when I realized that after an evening of swirling expensive French cuisine around my plate, I was hungry. I tiptoed back out to the fridge for some yoghurt, and as I brushed past the arm of the couch a foot grazed my thigh. I startled and so did the person sleeping on the couch. Nick squinted into the dark room. A white sheet was draped loosely over his hips. “Flash, is that you?”
“Yep. Sorry to wake you but I was hungry.”
“Didn’t you just come from your dinner date?”
“Please do not remind me of the evening. What a lecherous pig.”
He sat up abruptly and the couch creaked beneath his weight. “Did that sonavabitch—”
“Nothing happened. Including any real estate deal.” Nick had warned me not to get my hopes up, but I’d ignored him. I really was disappointed.
“Sorry about that, Jayden.” It would have been a perfect opportunity for him to say I told you so but he didn’t, and he sounded truly sympathetic to boot.
“I’ll handle that client from now on.” He lay back down.
My eyes had adjusted to the darkness. My gaze drifted over his smooth muscular chest and followed the line of dark hair that trailed over his taut abdomen, disappearing beneath the sheet. In my entire life, I’d never seen anything as sensual as Nick Regent lying naked on the couch beneath a thin sheet. It took me a moment to find my tongue. “Why are you on the couch?” I asked.
“Francesca is in my bed.” He turned on his side and attempted to fit his extremely long body on the short couch.
“I see.” That was an interesting development. I walked to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and fished out a blueberry yoghurt. I slid open the drawer with the spoons just as a large arm slid around my waist.
Nick held me against his hard chest, and he pressed his erection against my bottom. The heat of his naked b
ody penetrated my t-shirt, warming my skin. His free hand reached up and brushed the hair from my face, and his mouth caressed my ear and neck. The yoghurt dropped to the floor and splattered.
“God, Jayden,” he said between breaths, “I want every inch of you.” His hand slid from my waist up to my breast and through the thin cotton fabric his finger traced a circle around my erect nipple. He spun me around to face him. Gazing at me from beneath heavy lids, he dragged his thumb across my bottom lip before lifting my chin. His hungry mouth came down over mine, and instantly his tongue ran along the inside of my lips. I opened my lips wider and his tongue probed deeper. I moaned softly into his mouth, feeling completely frail and vulnerable in his thick arms.
“Tell me to stop, Jayden,” he breathed the words against my lips. “It will kill me, but tell me to stop if you don’t—”
My hands reached into his long, dark hair, and I pulled his face closer to mine. His kisses were punishing, and I could not get enough of his mouth. My head felt so light, I barely noticed as he lifted me into his arms. My foot pushed open the door to my bedroom. He kicked shut the door and lowered my feet to the ground. My fingers grasped at his arm for fear that I might sink into a weak-kneed puddle.
I gasped as his fingers grabbed the fabric of my shirt. He lifted it over my head and dropped it on the floor. I stood in front of his hungry gaze wearing only a flimsy pair of thong underwear. A warm, salty breeze wafted through the open window, tickling my naked skin pushing my already erect nipples tighter still.
The insatiable look in his pale green eyes sent a shiver through me. Then he reached for my hands. He faced me towards the wall of my room and lifted my hands above my head. He held my wrists as my palms pressed against the cool plaster of the wall.
His chest pressed against my bare back as his mouth lowered to my ear. “Spread your legs.” His knee pressed between my thighs, coaxing my legs apart. “Don’t move.” He released his hold on me and immediately my hands dropped, but he raised them up above my head again and pressed them against the wall. His mouth and tongue started a long, tantalizing journey over my shoulders down my back to my ass. Slowly his tongue and mouth caressed every inch of my bottom as his fingers slid my panties to the floor. Instinctively I pushed against his probing tongue.
