Tate rolls his eyes. ‘It’s what you pay me for.’
‘And I also pay you when I want you to look away,’ I remind him, arching my eyebrows pointedly.
‘So youdowant to “spend some time with him”,’ he mimics my air quote with his big thick fingers as his lip slants upwards. ‘I better organise a background check in case that—’ he rolls his eyes ‘“—Big dick energy” beckons you to his bedroom.’
I laugh. ‘Don’t even think about it. It was a harmlessflirtation.’ Albeit, one that has been playing through my head on repeat all afternoon.
Those ice blue eyes, blonde tousled hair and plump parted lips certainly made an impression. And it wasn’t just Big Dick Energy he radiated. It was his quiet confidence that suggested he’d know exactly how to use that big dick in a way that could be devastating.
‘I’m not going to his bedroom.’ Am I trying to convince Tate, or myself?
Because that precise prospect has tormented my neglected lady parts ever since my bodyguard pulled me out of the pool.
‘Sure?’ He crosses the room to lean against the door frame, folding his burly arms over his chest. ‘Because he was looking at you like he was planning on eating you.’
A hot bolt of lust spears my core as a vivid image of California’s mouth between my thighs hijacks my head. I stalk further into the suite, tossing my sunglasses onto the large glass table in the white wood panelled hallway. ‘I’ve been surrounded by men like him my entire life. That man out there is all about the chase. He’s a wolf dressed in sheep’s clothing. His stunning smile did nothing to conceal the sharpness of his teeth.’
I bet he fucks like a wild animal.
He’d use me and discard me.
Which I’m not entirely averse to, though I prefer to be the one doing the discarding. Which is why if I do happen to run into California again, I can’t rule out “spending some time with him”, but not until he’s worked for it. My brothers taught me well.
‘But we both know who the real wolf is.’ Tate stares at me with a deadpan expression. He’s witnessed me in action in both a personal and professional capacity.
‘Moi?’ I point my thumb to my chest, feigning an expressionof shock. ‘The difference is—I don’t chase what I want. I make it come to me.’
‘Don’t I know it.’ He shakes his head and snorts, backing out the door. ‘I’ll be in my suite if you need me; otherwise, I’ll be back to escort you to the restaurant at eight.’
‘Perfect.’ I nod, then watch as he closes the door, leaving me alone. Privacy is a luxury I don’t take for granted.
I head for the minibar, grab a miniature bottle of bubbly and a flute, and carry them out to the hot tub.
I shrug out of the oversized white shirtdress I’d thrown on to explore the resort, letting it pool at my feet, then sink into the warm water. The tension in my shoulders has eased immeasurably since I stepped off the family jet.
No one needs me.
No one’s looking for me.
No meetings.
No calls.
No chaos.
Unless you count the chaos California wreaked in my bikini bottoms.
Who is he, with that charisma and claimed connections?
It’s laughable really.
If he realised whose sister he’s flirting with, he’d choke on his drink.
Better for everyone that he—and every other guest here—never finds out.
I pop the bubbly, take a mouthful, rest my head back against the side of the tub, and tilt my face to the sky. The sun is setting spectacularly on the horizon, staining both the sea and sky in stunning shades of apricot and rose gold. I close my eyes and listen to the hypnotic rhythm of the waves crashing lazily against the shore.
Why don’t I go on vacation more often?
