by Zuri Day
Sam almost laughed out loud. “I’ll have the Cajun chicken salad, please. And a glass of cabernet.”
Both of them watched the attendant walk away.
Sam nodded in her direction. “Looks like you have an admirer.”
“She’s just doing her job.”
“Seriously, Nick, you can’t be that naive. Your modesty, though, is appreciated.”
He took a sip of water. “Tell me about your family. Do you have siblings?”
“A brother from my mom’s first marriage. He’s seven years older than me, a techie who lives in Seattle. My dad lives in LA.”
“Is that where you grew up?”
“Born and raised.”
“And your mom?”
Sam quieted, swallowed past the sudden lump in her throat. “She passed away right before I moved to Africa. Breast cancer.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Thank you. I miss her every day.”
“How is it that you were at the costume party?”
Sam knew exactly which party he was talking about, the one where they slept together and her life was forever changed.
“Danni moved here years ago, a professional dancer with stars in her eyes. Got hired for a few shows. Then she met Scott, got married and started a family. Her mom, my aunt, was my mom’s sister. They were very close, always together, which led to Danni and I being more like sisters than cousins.”
“What did she think about your quick wedding?”
Back to that again? Sam wondered why Nick was so fixated on a marriage that was over. She chose to answer rather than ask the question; figured the more open she was about that part of her life the less he’d feel the need to pry further.
“She’s always wanted what was best for me. Since I was happy, she was happy.”
“And now that you’re divorced?”
Sam tried not to let her chagrin show but she had tired of this line of questioning. “Again, she supports whatever is best for me, and is happy I’m back stateside.”
“Please forgive my insensitivity for asking. I imagine that ending a marriage is never easy, no matter the reason, and that talking about it could be painful.”
“You’re right. It’s not easy. But in the end, it was for the best. Enough about me. Let’s talk about your love life.”
“I already told you. The only love affair I’m having right now is with the CANN Isles project.”
“If that’s your story you can stick to it. But an architect’s art renderings can’t keep you warm at night.”
“Ha! True that. I go out here and there but mostly I’ve been too busy to date.”
Sam found that hard to believe but didn’t push. The conversation wound its way back to business and the cluster of island homes in New York, the first that Sam would be stamping with her designs. Were circumstances different she’d definitely date Nick. Smart and confident with a wicked sense of humor, he wasn’t hard to like. That he was easy on the eyes didn’t hurt, either. Being far and away the best lover she’d ever experienced would be the cherry on top of the sundae. If things were different. But they weren’t. Sam needed to keep that in mind and stay focused on doing her job.
The flight attendant returned. The flirting continued. Sam put on a brave smile and hid the anguish in her heart. The best thing that could happen was for Nick to fall madly in love, thereby erasing any perceived chance of a future between them. She, Trey and Nick would not ride off into the sunset as one big happy family. Whatever feelings that were trying to resurface were best quashed before having a chance to blossom.
No doubt someone as good-looking as Nick had scores of women, one in every town. Except for the time-sensitive project and the secret she kept, Sam wouldn’t have minded being one of them.
Six
Clients staying at a CANN Isles property were ferried from a port or marina in each city to the island by private yachts either purchased or leased by the company. Less than an hour after arriving in New York City, Nick and Sam had been driven by limo to the marina in Brooklyn where the boat was docked and waiting.
“Impressive,” Sam said, as the two settled at the end of circular seating that could double as a sunbathing pad on the right type of day. “CANN International most definitely does everything first class.”
“Nothing you’re not used to, right? The life of a princess had to have been at least this upscale. Given Nigeria is Africa’s richest nation, even more so, I’d imagine.”
“It was very opulent living,” Sam admitted, looking out over the water.
She offered nothing more, but Nick pressed the issue. The more he interacted with Sam, the more he realized how little he knew about her. Being hesitant about getting into her personal life was understandable, but Nick was determined to get past the superficial or work conversations they had mostly had to this point.
He sat against the couch, stretched his arms across its back. “I’ve been to several countries in Africa, but never Nigeria. We hear so many stories. How was it living there?”
“Not like most residents, I’d suppose. Most of my life happened on the grounds of the palace, which were massive. Almost everything one could imagine for living was on the premises—pools, tennis courts, parks and spas. If something wasn’t readily available, it was obtained by the staff. If it was something that I or other household members needed to personally approve, wardrobe, furniture, stuff like that, it was either handled online or personally brought in.”
“That sounds super restrictive. Was it because of security concerns?”
Sam didn’t answer immediately. Nick wondered if he’d overstepped.
“My ex-husband’s family were very protective of not only family members but also their brand.” Again, she paused, as if choosing her words carefully. “They went to great lengths to protect their privacy. However, I don’t believe their actions or attention to safety went beyond that of other royals. As I said, their land holdings are massive, about an hour from Lagos, a sprawling complex that’s completely secure. Life was somewhat scripted but not as rigid as it sounds.”
“You loved a good party back in the day. I know you were a married woman with a child but there were no fun times on the beach or wild nights at the club?”
Sam sighed, frowned slightly. “The homes of the wealthy are gated playgrounds. There wasn’t really a need to go other places.”
Nick quickly and keenly felt her mental retreat. He changed course. “Did you visit other countries?”
“Several.”
“Do you have a favorite?”
“Each had its own beauty. I could live on the island of Madagascar.”
“Madagascar’s a sweet spot for sure. What about Maasai Mara?”
Sam shook her head. “Never heard of it. What’s there?”
“Lions, cheetahs, zebras.”
“A safari?”
“The best country to go on one, or so we were told. I have to admit they were right, based on the experience I had.”
“What about the country where the CANN hotel is built?”
“Djibouti? Beautiful.”
“How’d your brother find it?”
“You know what? Good question. You need to ask him the next time we meet.”
Both slipped into silence as the boat skimmed the dark blue waters, taking them farther from the city into the deep part of the sea. Sam excused herself to call Danni and check in on Trey. Nick used the time to call the office, read his emails and return a call to his mom. Thirty minutes later, he stood and stretched as land came into view.
He walked over, opened the cabin door and yelled below. “Sam!”
“Yes?”
“We’re here.”
“Okay. Coming right up.”
The boat docked. Within minutes, Nick and Sam were in an ATV, their luggage behind them, tra
veling over the bumpy terrain at a high rate of speed.
“Slow down!” Sam yelled.
Nick laughed. “Hang on. I’ve got this!”
As the vehicle rounded a curve and the house came into view, Sam’s jaw dropped. An architectural masterpiece of glass-fiber-reinforced concrete, gleaming steel and paneless windows was far and away the most beautiful home she’d ever seen.
“This place is amazing.” She spoke in a hushed, awe-inspired tone, just barely above a whisper.
“That’s exactly the type of reaction we want from our guests.”
Adam leaped out of the ATV, then went on the other side to let Sam out. A house employee appeared as if by magic to handle their luggage and fulfill any requests from the boss.
“The inside isn’t as finished as the outside,” Nick warned. “But don’t let that scare you as it did the designer before you.”
“Thanks for the warning,” Sam replied, her heartbeat slightly quickening as they walked through an atrium filled with lush tropical plants, angel statues and an impressive waterfall. “For the inside to come anywhere close to this home’s exterior is a very tall order.”
Adam reached the door, then stepped back for Sam to enter. “I believe in you.”
Sam stopped just inside the door. “Oh. My. Goodness.” She turned to Nick. “When you said the interiors needed designing, I didn’t think that meant from the studs up.”
“This is one of the least finished models. Others aren’t quite this bad.”
“This job is way bigger than I imagined. Large crews will be needed if there’s any hope of finishing these homes in eight to twelve weeks. Have workers been lined up and contracted?”
Nick shook his head.
“No carpenters, painters, installers, nothing?”
“Again, some of the other homes are a bit further along than this but basically, many of the jobs are from the ground up.”
Nick watched as Sam reached into her tote, pulled out a tablet and began jotting down notes as she walked room to room.
“I’d be lying to not admit that this feels overwhelming. Where was my luggage taken? It contains some of what I’ll need to get this ball rolling. I need to get started right away.”
Nick made quick work of finishing the tour, ending on the third floor of the massive mix of contemporary and bungalow styles.
“Here are the two remaining master suites,” Nick pointed out, having shown her five in all. I had the maids prepare these two for our stay.”
“You’re staying?”
Nick worked to hide a smile. That Sam seemed concerned about the close proximity of their bedrooms pleased him more than he could let on. “Don’t sound so alarmed. It’s just for the night. I have an appointment in New York tomorrow morning.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I’ve got work to catch up on while you do your thing, but what say we take a break around seven for dinner tonight?”
“Thanks, but that’s not really necessary. I’d rather grab something quick and continue working.”
“No problem. A panel similar to the one I showed you just beyond the foyer is also in your room and can be used to summon the chef or any of the other employees to help you. If there is anything at all that you need done, don’t hesitate to ask.”
“Okay, thanks, Nick. I’ll see you later.”
Nick retired to his room but with Sam consuming his thoughts, there was no work getting done. After basically doodling and checking social media accounts for over an hour, he donned a pair of swim trunks to douse his heated bod in the Atlantic’s cold waves. Knowing Sam was down the hall would make it a challenge, but he purposely wore himself out swimming in hopes of a good night’s sleep. Back at the house, he took a hot shower. Noah called just as he finished drying off. Having passed Sam downstairs hard at work on her tablet, he strode naked from his suite to the hall linen closet, looking for a particular robe he was told had been placed there, a simple terry number to replace the heavier one left in the room.
“Are you flying up or no?” he asked his twin, entering the walk-in hall closet and bypassing several robe choices before finding the one he preferred and slinging it over his shoulder. “Cool. Then let’s meet at the restaurant in the office tower lobby and go over the plans before sitting down with their group.”
Nick stepped out of the closet just as Sam rounded the corner.
“Oh!” she yelped, her eyes appearing to take him in like a tall glass of water in an arid desert before remembering to be professional.
“Sorry.” Nick kept his eyes squarely focused on Sam as he casually slipped on the robe. “Your room is on the other side.”
Sam said nothing, just wheeled around and headed in the opposite direction.
“Call you back, twin.” Nick hurriedly ended the call. “Sam!”
The only response he heard was the sound of her door closing, and the lock being firmly latched behind her.
Seven
Shit! Sam reached her room, closed the door and repeated the expletive. About a dozen times. Why hadn’t she paid more attention to her surroundings before leaving the room? She’d commented on the matching masters and what a good selling point that would be for potential renters. Why hadn’t she focused on where she was going? And why the hello fantasy island did he have to be naked when she entered? At the thought, his image sprang into her mind. Hot. Hard. The appendage that had brought her both instant and lasting pleasure still amazingly impressive, even in its languid state. Only now did Sam think about how long it had been since she’d had sex. Too long to be on an island alone with a gorgeous man. Shit!
Sam jumped as her phone pinged. She picked it up. Nick.
Sorry that happened. U ok?
In her mind, sarcastic responses stumbled over each other. But her response was short and sweet.
I’m ok. J.
Liar. What happened wasn’t okay at all. So much so that a short time later she sent Nick a second text feigning exhaustion and asked if they could meet first thing the next day. Cross-country trips and changing time zones could be tiresome, but fighting the attraction to Nick is what zapped Sam’s energy. After making contact with a few of her old suppliers and surfing CANN International’s website to study hotel room pics, she took a shower and slid between designer Egyptian cotton sheets. The material felt soft and seductive against her skin. The memory-foam mattress caressed her body. The pillows smelled faintly of lavender, a scent known to relax the body and quiet the mind. The combination worked wonders. Soon, Sam was fast asleep.
It seemed only moments later when the door to her room opened. Sam looked up. Nick, once again in all of his practically naked glory. He seemed ethereal, almost otherworldly, his partially clad body backlit by subdued hallway lighting. His steps were slow, measured, as he boldly approached her. He reached the foot of her bed and silently waited for an invitation to join her. Sam sat up, letting the sheet fall to reveal her bareness. Her exposed nipples pebbled quickly. Goose bumps broke out all over her ebony skin, and not just from the cool breeze through the open balcony doors. He shook the robe he wore from his shoulders, let it puddle at his feet, then crawled onto the bed like a panther, stalking its prey.
He stared deep into her eyes. Not a word had been spoken.
Sam watched as though mesmerized as Nick pulled down the sheet and exposed every inch of her body. He took a finger and slid it lazily from the heel of her foot to the insides of her thighs, flicking it along the folds of her paradise before branding her with his touch on the way back down, then sexily licking his finger. Without warning, he bent over and sucked a toe in his mouth. So delicious was his touch, so amazing, so forceful, that Sam almost had an orgasm right there!
But she didn’t.
Instead, she lay back against the fluffy pillows, writhing as Nick’s tongue bath continued over her ankles and shin. He kissed a sensit
ive spot behind her knee before trailing kisses up the insides of her thighs, gently parting her legs wider until she was fully exposed. Only seconds passed before she felt his lips touch her nether ones, before his tongue swiped the dew from between her folds, until he feasted on her feminine flower. Sam felt short of breath and tried to get away lest she die from pleasure. But Nick wasn’t having it. He held her firmly by her thighs—licking, sucking, biting, kissing—until an orgasm that began at the core of her being burst forth on the waves of a scream that reverberated around the room. She lay back spent, finished.
Nick was just getting started.
He positioned himself just beyond her shoulders, his thick, stiff manhood dangling precariously close to her face. Obviously, he figured that turnabout was fair play. Who was Sam to argue? She wrapped her hands around his massive sex weapon, kissed the tip and then sucked him into her mouth. His gasp of breath let her know that she was onto something. She continued the assault, breathing him in, pulling him out, setting up a rhythm to match the pace of his hips as she ran a hand over his hard cheeks and outlined his mushroom tip with her tongue. One last thrust to her face and apparently Nick couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled her up, turned her over and in one long, glorious plunge, entered her from behind.
Ah!
Sam relaxed to take in all of him before rocking back and forth in their dance of love. She moaned when he massaged her breasts and twiddled her nipples, never missing a beat as he drove himself deeper and deeper inside her, until he touched the very core. She came once, twice, but still Nick wasn’t finished. He climbed off the bed, took her into his arms and walked through the open balcony doors. There, under the light of a full springtime moon, he sat on one of the lounge chairs that dotted the large balcony and directed her to sit on his still-engorged shaft. She felt like a sex goddess, watching his eyes flutter closed, feeling the wind on her sensitive buds, throwing back her hair and enjoying the ride. She rose up until only his tip was inside her, then slid down his pole like a trained firewoman. Back and forth. In and out. They made love for minutes. Or was it for hours? Or days? Finally, she felt Nick’s pace quicken, heard him mumble unintelligibly until he, too, let himself go and went over the edge. The orgasm was so climactic it made her ears buzz. The sound began as if in the distance, then got louder and louder until...
