After leaving the lavatory separately they’d spent the remaining two hours of the flight sitting in their assigned seats. He’d been situated across the aisle and one seat up from her so she’d had an excellent view of his hostile profile the entire trip. She kept glancing at him, hoping for some small sign that he was no longer angry with her but his animosity hung between them like a dark and stormy cloud. When the plane had finally landed he’d silently handed down her suitcase like a polite stranger and then strode away without another backward glance in her direction. It was clear that he had dismissed their time together as meaningless, just as she’d wanted. At the time. Now she was having some serious second thoughts about her decision to continue on with her fantasy.
She had spent those same two long hours trying to decide if rejecting him was the smartest or the dumbest thing she’d ever done. As her disappointment and embarrassment had faded she realized that dumb didn’t even begin to describe her behaviour. There really hadn’t been a good reason not to see him again. But there were about a gazillion excellent reasons to spend the trip in bed with him. So why had she denied them both the pleasure of a truly decadent weekend in paradise together? The answer was simple: she had rejected him to avoid the possibility of being rejected first. Despite the fact that this strategy had successfully ensured that she never experienced anything romantically worthwhile ever in her whole misguided life she had done what was familiar to her. It would seem that a small but powerful part of her was determined to remain a spineless virgin with yet another regret to add to her long list.
Maybe that`s all she was: a self-sabotaging coward. When it really counted her instinct was to run from anything that might threaten her boring existence. She had very nearly done so again when their plane had landed in Maui. It had taken every shred of determination in her not to turn around and book another flight back home where it was safe and easy. But somehow she had forced herself to get in the limousine and carry on with her plan.
Now here she was, seriously contemplating running again. She had her key card in her hand and all she had to do was turn the doorknob to fulfill her fantasy, but she couldn’t do it. She wasn’t ready to take that risk yet. No matter how much she wanted to put her fears and insecurities behind her, they just kept cropping up and making it impossible to change her pattern of behaviour. She wished she could avoid having to deal with any of it and just flee back to her comfort zone.
She had no idea what to expect when she walked through that blue door, so she found herself edging back from it, tucking the key card back in her purse, and loitering around outside, pretending to admire the ocean view and the remarkably lush-looking vegetation that seemed to be growing before her eyes. She was shamelessly stalling but couldn’t seem to help herself. Her fake bridegroom was inside, waiting for her. To take her innocence. To fulfill her fantasy. To make up for decades of loneliness and insecurity by pretending to desire her? Honestly, had she expected paying for sex to make her feel better about herself? Apparently so. She’d been so deluded. But now she felt obligated to follow through. If only to break her cowardly pattern of behaviour. She had to stop allowing fear to rule her.
It seemed like a shame that this situation was exactly what she’d planned and yet trepidation was the only emotion she seemed to feel about what was about to happen. Shouldn’t she be even a little bit excited? If the man inside was even half as attractive as Sam then she should be thrilled to be here. But instead she kept wondering if there was some way to get out of this gracefully with her self-confidence intact.
Part of the problem was that she had no idea what to expect. Was he waiting for her in the bed? Would he be naked and expect her to join him there? Or would they sit around chatting about the remarkable weather before moving onto the main, cherry-popping event?
Miss Bright had taken care of every detail of her trip so far, including organizing the limousine ride from the airport, transporting her luggage, and arranging for a breath-taking tour of the gorgeous resort from the jolly manager, but she hadn’t explained what would happen once Mona stepped into her fantasy. Now Mona wished she’d asked for more details. Miss Bright’s cryptic remarks about, “following his lead” and “not overthinking” hadn’t prepared her for the actual nerve-wracking experience of approaching a stranger for sex.
Mr. Kekona, the resort manager, had offered to show her around the bungalow as well but she had declined. Meeting her fake bridegroom privately promised to be awkward. She couldn’t imagine doing so with an audience.
So instead of escorting her to her room, he’d described her accommodations with pride shining in his dark eyes. He’d informed her that she and her new husband would be staying in the honeymoon cottage, so completely separate from the other bungalows. It featured “a California-King bed big enough to hold an entire luau if necessary, including the roasted pig.” There was a glassed-in steam shower with several massaging showerheads and even the honeymoon cottage cliché - oversized Jacuzzi tub overlooking the ocean. But the feature Mr. Kekona had been most excited to tell her about was the small private pool behind the bungalow.
From the outside, the setting of her fantasy was everything Mona had imagined. The blue-green ocean pounded against the beach just a short walk from where she stood. A few metres of pristine white sand was all that separated her from the shore.
The bungalow itself was actually a small cottage with a wide, wraparound deck. The building was painted a cheerful turquoise and had white wicker furniture arranged invitingly all around the deck. A comfy-looking hammock was even tucked off to one side for privacy.
Technically, the bungalow was right on the beach but it was situated in the midst of a small forest of palm and fruit trees which provided shade and yet more privacy. Red and pink flowers grew in wild abundance everywhere and their exotic scent combined with the ocean breeze was intoxicating. She had truly found paradise. If only she wasn’t sharing it with a stranger.
Standing outside the bungalow, Mona took the cowardly route for the second time that day and decided to check out the pool instead of walking through that door. A few more minutes to gather her courage couldn’t hurt at this point, could it?
The quaint cobblestone path meandered around the cottage to what looked like a lush garden. When she reached the back of the house she found that Mr. Kekona had been right to be proud of the pool. It was incredible. Obviously inspired by a natural grotto, the pool itself was lagoon shaped and surrounded by large rocks and greenery. One end was completely shaded by palm trees while the other sparkled in the bright sunlight. There was an actual waterfall bubbling from a rocky ledge into the shady end and more flowers floated on the surface of the water.
The most impressive sight, however, was not the turquoise seahorse painted on the bottom of the pool or the lush vegetation. It was the man in the pool. He was swimming laps with powerful strokes that seemed to effortlessly propel him from one end to the other. His muscular arms sliced through the water with an athletic ease that Mona, a non-swimmer, couldn’t help but admire, but it was his face that held her transfixed. It was simply beautiful. Every single time his head turned in her direction so he could take a breath she felt like she must be mistaken. No man could be this stunning.
Feeling like a voyeur but enjoying the view too much to care, she purposely stepped behind one of the palms and watched him. It should have been boring and repetitive, observing him glide smoothly through the water, but instead she felt herself waiting for him to reveal some kind of flaw. Maybe spaghetti legs or a chicken neck, but each feature he revealed was more perfect than the last.
When he finally stopped and stood up in the shallow, sunny end of the pool she actually gaped.
Water sluiced town his long form in streams. Droplets glistened in the bright sunlight, emphasizing the angular splendor of his ridiculously sculpted body. It was difficult to gauge his height exactly but he was tall, probably over six feet by a few inches at least. Many tall men seem awkward and gangly but his ph
ysique was lean perfection. His mostly hairless skin was deeply tanned and contrasted beautifully with the turquoise water surrounding him.
Mona watched in awe as he lifted one impressive arm to skim his dark hair back from his forehead, uncovering more of that incredible face. Muscles and tendons flexed and bunched throughout his torso and back as he waded towards the edge of the pool.
Where the hell had Miss Bright found this guy? He was like Superman crossed with an Italian model, with a little Prince Charming thrown in for good measure.
When he effortlessly lifted himself out of the pool, she got a gander at the rest of him. She wasn’t disappointed. His swim trunks weren’t board shorts or a banana-hammock but somewhere in-between. They were navy blue and came down his thighs a few inches. They would probably have covered him decently when dry but right then they were soaking wet and as a result left very little to the imagination. The merman in her pool was clearly packing some serious junk.
He inadvertently gave Mona a good look at his rear view when he bent down to pick up a towel from one of the poolside lounges. His broad shoulders tapered down to a tight waist and an even tighter behind. Mona thought briefly about pulling out her iPhone and taking a picture of that high, round butt. It deserved its own Facebook page at the very least. But she restrained herself. She was a forty-year old woman, not a teenager sneaking pictures of her latest crush. She needed to handle this with dignity. And that meant stepping out from behind this tree and meeting her fake husband.
Taking a deep breath, she tried to remember all the things Nora, her therapist, had made her do to overcome her shyness. One of those exercises had been starting a conversation with a series of complete strangers. She had forced herself to spend an entire afternoon on the patio of a local coffee shop, approaching people like a friendly stray dog. It had been awful at first, but by the end of the day she had started to realize that she didn’t have anything to fear from anyone. The worst they could do was ignore her or maybe give her a strange look. No one was going to call her names or torture her just because she asked how their day was going. Her fear was ridiculous and illogical. That day she had learned that acting confident was almost the same as actually being confident.
So, she would use the same approach here. If the worst case scenario happened and it became obvious that he wasn’t attracted to her, she would call off the fantasy. As simple as that. Miss Bright could keep the ten thousand dollars. It was a small price to pay to avoid yet another regret. There was no way she was going through with this unless this man sincerely wanted her. Now that she’d had a taste of being genuinely desired she wouldn’t settle for anything less, even if the alternative was dying a bitter old virgin spinster hag with twenty cats and a porcelain doll collection from the Home Shopping Network.
Pushing away from the palm tree she’d been hiding behind, Mona pasted a big smile on her face and dropped her shoes on the deck. They clattered on the stones and the sound was loud enough to draw the attention of the man beside the pool. He turned towards her and Mona was momentarily dumb-struck by the sheer beauty of his genuine smile as he caught sight of her. Leaning down, he scooped up a pair of dark-rimmed glasses and put them on to get a better look at her. If possible, he was even more adorable with the glasses. They gave him a slightly geeky look that she found infinitely appealing, especially when paired with the jaw-dropping body.
“Darling, you’re here. Finally.” With a whoop of undisguised joy, he strode across the deck until he was standing directly in front of her. Without a single awkward hesitation he picked her up easily and held her tight against his wet chest as if they’d greeted each other this way a million times.
“Hi Clark,” she said breathlessly, using the name Miss Bright had supplied. Mona’s purse dropped to the pool-deck as she wrapped her arms around his neck to avoid having them trapped between them. She hung onto his strong shoulders, quite surprised at how comfortable it felt to be hugging this divine creature. He felt like any other man, despite his god-like appearance.
“I’ve missed you. Being here alone on our honeymoon, even for an hour, was torture.” He tightened his grip on her and lifted her another few inches until her legs were dangling more than a foot off the ground. “Say you’ll never let work get in the way again, now that we’re married. Alright?”
Mona thought about pointing out the fact that he’d actually appeared to be enjoying his solo swim, but just nodded instead. His body was pressed against her from chest to mid-thigh and it was difficult to concentrate with the scent of all that fresh clean masculine flesh clouding her mind.
He gently lowered her back to her feet and brushed her curling hair out of her eyes. “Did you go inside? Did you see everything?”
Mona glanced down at his body. She did see just about everything, including the outline of his equipment through his shorts, but that probably wasn’t what he meant. She forced herself to look up into his whiskey-coloured eyes which had the longest lashes she’d ever seen on a man. “I haven’t been inside yet. I heard you back here and couldn’t wait to see you.” Apparently her new bold persona was a complete liar. She’d actually been avoiding him like chlamydia.
He leaned down and kissed her cheek. “I’m glad you did. But c’mon. I want you to see what I was doing to keep busy while I waited for you.” He grabbed her hand and tugged her towards the back of the cottage which appeared to be made entirely out of glass.
He pushed on one of the panes and it slid open revealing a large, high-ceilinged bedroom with a bed the size of a bouncy castle sitting against the far wall.
Stepping into the room, Mona covered her mouth with one hand and stared around her in amazement. The room was the embodiment of every single romantic element she could have imagined. Pink and red rose petals were scattered all around the light bamboo floors. Some petals had even arranged into a thick, red heart on the bed. Beside it was a silver champagne bucket with a large bottle of very expensive bubbly nestled inside. Crystal glasses, a box of Godiva chocolates and yet more flowers in a huge vase rested on the bedside table. Their scent was heady, almost cloying, as she took in a deep breath, trying to recover from the shock of being the recipient of so much thoughtfulness from a complete stranger. She hadn’t expected this at all. Had never specified what she wanted the room to look like or even suggested that she wanted something special and yet she was standing in the middle of a room that looked like about a million Valentine’s cards had exploded all over it. This was the epitome of every classic romantic fantasy known to womankind. Looking around she couldn’t help but wonder, was this Miss Bright’s doing? Or had this gorgeous man gone to all this trouble on his own?
Clark stepped behind her and placed his palms on her shoulders. “Do you like it?” He asked softly, his tone sounding surprisingly unsure of himself.
Mona nodded as tears sprung to her eyes. “It’s beautiful. I can’t believe you did all this.” She waved her arm at the room and shook her head in wonder.
He turned her towards him and scrunched down slightly so he could look into her eyes. “I wanted this to be special for you. Everything you could possibly want. So tell me. Did I miss anything? Should I have arranged for singers to serenade us from outside our windows?”
She giggled. “God. No. How awkward would that be?”
He smiled that blinding smile and leaned down to press a kiss against the corner of her mouth. “Fair enough. How about something to eat? I gave the chef here a list of all your favourites. I can place an order and it should be here within the hour. I wasn’t sure if you’d be hungry or not, so I waited. Should I have arranged for a special meal to be waiting for you?”
She hadn’t eaten a thing all day and yet the thought of food made her stomach churn. Her hunger pains had ceased completely. She was still too nervous to think about food. She wanted her stupid virginity gone as soon as possible. Maybe when that was taken care of she could relax and enjoy herself for a change. She was, after all, in paradise with the perfect man. He se
emed genuinely sweet and eager to please. How could she not want to be with him?
“I’m really not hungry but thank you so much for doing all this.” Something white on the bed caught her eye and she walked over to examine it. It was a short, silk negligee. She held it up by one thin strap. “What’s this? I’m pretty sure I didn’t pack this.” She teased.
He gave her a sheepish grin. “No. That came from one of the shops in the lobby. I saw it and couldn’t help imagining you in it. You don’t mind, do you?” He took it from her hand and held it out in front of her. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want, but I would love to see if the reality matches what’s been going on in my head. It’s all I’ve been thinking of, seeing you in nothing but this.” His gaze behind the glasses wandered down her body and she sincerely hoped it wasn’t obvious that she was missing her underwear.
Her eyes widened as she took in the naked desire on his face. He wasn’t looking at her like she was a job. He was staring at her like he couldn’t wait to get her out of her clothes and into that scrap of silk. How extraordinary. He was either the world’s greatest actor or he genuinely wanted her. She desperately wanted to believe it was the latter.
“It’s lovely. I hope I can live up to your expectations,” she said, pressing the decadent garment to her body, enjoying the way it seemed to cling to her curves. Glancing at the label she could see it was exactly her size. How had he managed that? Lucky guess or Miss Bright again?
He used one finger to angle her chin up so he could capture her gaze again. “Darling, you know you could be wearing a sumo wrestler costume and I’d still find you incredibly sexy, so don’t give a second thought to my expectations. You surpass them every single moment we’re together.” He stared deeply into her eyes as he said this and there wasn’t a hint of insincerity in his expression. He meant every word.
Mona's Honeymoon Fantasy (Delta of Venus Inc.) Page 8
