My Boss’s Secret by Taryn Quinn

Two

I’d never behavedlike this before.

Following a woman I’d noticed in a store. Wandering the island looking for her for the past couple of days. Knowing I was meant to find her.

Meant to know her.

Then I’d seen her at dinner tonight. I’d been on the opposite side of the restaurant, and she hadn’t even looked my way. But that sunshine hair had caught my eye once again.

I’d gotten up half a dozen times, determined to introduce myself. Each time, I immediately sat down, transfixed by her slow sway to the guitar music. And her shy smile when the cook fastened a flower in her hair.

Gone now.

“These aren’t mine.” She was still flushing furiously as she gripped the condoms as if they were tiny latex pods of poison.

I touched her hair again, brushing it back behind the delicate shell of her ear. Her hoops were tiny. Barely visible. “Where’s the plumeria?”

Even as I asked, I glimpsed the bright pink on the floor near the bed. I nudged her back gently. “May I?”

She swallowed visibly and nodded, hiding the condoms behind her back as if she could make them vanish. Her shyness was so damn adorable. And infuriating, because a woman this gorgeous shouldn’t be afraid of anything.

She should be bold. Proud. A fucking peacock in bright red silk.

When she stepped aside, I walked into her modest room and retrieved the flower. I turned back to put it in her hair where she still stood uncertainly in the doorway, her back against the still-open door.

Must not close herself in with the big bad scholarly wolf.

“Wait.”

I waited.

“You saw me two days ago.”

I nodded. I would never forget how her long, fragile fingers had skimmed over every bit of fabric as if she’d never before touched anything so luxurious. The desire to give her the world had seized me by the balls. I didn’t do shit like that. I dated casually when the need arose. But I didn’t make commitments—not anymore. And I rarely went for repeats.

I definitely didn’t fall into big hazel eyes and forget my own freaking name.

“Then what?”

“I waited for you,” I said softly, feeling like the biggest chump who’d ever lived.

“You…waited?”

There, that little catch in her voice. Hesitation. Doubt. Everything I’d seen on her face as she deflected attention in the store. I didn’t think she was even aware of the wall of ice she’d erected around herself.

Not much different than the one you’ve built, huh?

“I knew I’d see you again.” To keep from reaching for her, I tucked my free hand in my pocket. “And tonight at dinner, I did. You never noticed me.”

“How could that be possible?”

I didn’t smile. My overlarge ego didn’t appreciate that she hadn’t, but it only made her more intriguing. It wasn’t often that women overlooked me. That wasn’t conceit, merely fact.

“I noticed you. I almost came up to you more than once, but I’ll be honest.” I ran the tip of my tongue along my lower lip. “I like watching you.”

Her throat moved again and her big eyes flared wider. She was scared, yes, but she was interested. Maybe even curious.

Turned on.

Thank God. Arousal scorched my skin just from seeing her in that snug dress—one I’d chosen specifically for her—with her full breasts trying to escape the thin material.

“Is honesty rare for you?” Her voice was breathy, but I could tell fear wasn’t all that was driving her. She was finding her bearings.

Soon enough, she’d join me in this dance. The one that had started between us before she’d even realized.

“With women I intend to get naked? No.”

Bright flags of color appeared on her cheeks yet again. “You think highly of yourself.”

“Yet you’re the one toting around latex like you’re leading the sexual revolution.”

“That was an accident, dammit. My grandmother bought them for me.”

I laughed. Stopped. Laughed again. “What?”

“Oh, shut up.” In an unexpected fit of temper, she kicked the door closed. “So, now what? Am I supposed to get on all fours?”

Okay, I had not expected that. Or that her grandmother was her protection pusher.

With every passing minute, I liked this woman more. That was dangerous—for me, not her. And for the first time since I’d seen her, I wanted to run.

“What kind of prick do you think I am?”

“One who acts like it’s hunting season and he’s eyeing an easy lay.” She crossed her arms. “Wrong, buster.”

Buster.I nearly grinned. “Oh, you are far from easy. If I wanted easy, would I be here right now?”

“No, you’d probably be downstairs buying bikinis and Bahama Mamas for any beautiful woman who looked your way.”

“So, you’re acknowledging you’re beautiful.” Smugly, I matched her pose, careful not to crush the plumeria. “Finally.”

“You’re infuriating.”

I stepped forward. “Yes. And this flower belongs in your hair.”

Half expecting her to deck me—and half hard from almost wanting her to—I lifted my hand to slip the flower into her hair. But it was too wild and wouldn’t stay.

How ironic.

I cheated and took off my sunglasses to put on her head then tucked the flower behind the earpiece. Except they were too big and fell off along with the flower.

“Now what, wise guy?”

Her impudence was doing the same thing to my dick as her temptation to do me harm. Masochistic? Perhaps.

“Do you have a hairpin?”

“Don’t need one. It’s all about technique.” She plucked the flower from my fingers and did not tuck it in her hair. Oh, no, she tucked it into mine.

With a grin wide enough to make me laugh again like a besotted fool.

“Pink is your color.” Her tone was admirably serious.

“With your fair skin, I’m sure it’s yours too. All over.” I trailed my fingertips down the inside of her arm, waiting for her to blush for me.

She didn’t disappoint.

“Pity you’ll never know.”

“Would you prefer if I pretended I simply wanted to walk by the water with you? Is that the kind of game playing you like?”

“No. I don’t like games. And I can take in the water just fine from my balcony.”

I wasn’t sure that was true. This didn’t seem to be an oceanfront room. What would she think of my place right on the water?

I had to find out.

My gaze diverted to the brochure on the nightstand. It was open to a page featuring photos of oiled, firm bodies under the capable hands of a masseuse.

I could work with that.

“Besides, there are ways we can get to know each other physically other than sex.”

She frowned, her lush lips tugging down so severely, it was nearly comical. I wanted to kiss the shallow indent in her chin.

Yeah, you’re doing really well at this whole ‘keep it about naked times’ thing, dude.

“Why would I want to get to know you physically or any other way?”

She was direct. I liked that about her. Meant fewer chances she’d throw me a curve ball when I wasn’t looking.

“Curiosity?” I rubbed at the frown lines between her brows.

I couldn’t stop touching her and that didn’t have a thing to do with sex. Or it wasn’t only about that. I just liked having my hands on her. I definitely enjoyed her smart mouth.

I hadn’t anticipated she’d be sharp-tongued. But of course she had to be, so that I’d be so impossibly fascinated, there was no way in hell I’d be able to walk away.

And not even due to the current situation in my boxers, although that was a valid consideration.

She folded her arms across her impressive chest and didn’t respond. I tried not to look, but her body was as arresting as her face. So many long lines offset with irresistible curves. She was shorter than me, but not by much. Though her features were delicate, she didn’t seem insubstantial. Unless I was mistaken, this was a woman who wouldn’t break if things got a little interesting.

Once she got past the miles-deep wariness in her eyes, at least.

“You like massages?” I inclined my chin toward the brochure. “Have you considered getting one here?”

“I’ve never had one.”

“No way.”

Her chin lifted. “I don’t like strangers touching me.”

“I know a woman if that would make it easier.”

She snorted. “I just bet you do.”

“A masseuse,” I continued evenly. “She does both regular massages and couples’ massages. Not that I’ve ever had one of those, but I’ve seen the treatment rooms and know their protocol. They’re extremely private, and they go as in-depth as you prefer.”

Whatever level of depth I’d intimated, the depth she went to was a whole other level. “Are you serious? Now you want to pay someone to have sex with me while you watch? You are one kinky bastard.”

I stuck my tongue firmly into my cheek. “So, you’re saying you’d be into that?”

“Oh my God. Why am I even talking to you?” She flopped on the side of the bed and kicked off her sandals, revealing blue toenails covered with sand.

For Pete’s sake, even her feet were sexy. And I did not have a foot fetish. Far from it.

If I made it off this island with my dick still intact, I was going to have sex with as many women as I could to get this fire she’d started inside me out of my blood.

“Intrigued?”

She stayed silent.

“Trying to guess if you’re going to become infamous because you opened your door to a man who assured you he wasn’t dangerous? By the way, according to Asher Wainwright’s True Crime and other Macabre Tales, you should never—”

“You listen to Asher?”

“I do.” I chanced sitting beside her on the bed. “You do too?”

I hadn’t realized Asher’s podcast had such far-reaching listenership, but his show was definitely was growing in popularity in this true crime-obsessed climate.

She nodded. “My besties and I have wine night and listen. We’re a few weeks behind.”

“Wine and gruesome murder sounds…delightful.”

“You are entirely too sarcastic.”

“And you are entirely too on to me.” I traced a pattern on the back of the hand she’d rested on the bed between us. “I followed you back here that first day, after I saw you browsing. I know I shouldn’t have. But I wanted some way to find you again.” I swallowed hard and told the whole truth. “I was behind you when you went up to the desk and told them your room number and that you needed extra towels. So, that’s how I knew where to send the dress.”

When her mouth dropped open, I held up a hand. “I know it sounds awful. I wasn’t stalking you. Not exactly. This is my resort too. Well, I’m at the other end, so I didn’t have to come to the main building but—”

Her pale brows knitted together. “Other end?”

“Yes, I have one of the beachfront bures.”

Her expression didn’t clear. “What is that?”

“They’re basically small isolated houses. From a distance, they kind of look like huts, but they have amazing amenities. The resort only has a half dozen of them and they offer the utmost privacy. I’m in the last one and my neighbors are all couples.”

“Why is that?”

“They’re mere feet from the water with plunge pools and outdoor showers and anytime access to private masseuses. The hot tub on the private deck is a perfect spot to watch the sunset with someone special.” I shrugged. “People want romance.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re a tough nut. I like that about you.” The pattern I was drawing on her skin extended to her wrist. A delicate bracelet bisected by tiny shells rested there. Slipping my finger beneath it seemed intimate somehow, but she didn’t pull back. “We could try a massage in my bure. I checked out the on-site facilities before I scheduled my own session, but we don’t have to use the treatment rooms here.”

“You must think I’m really stressed.”

“Well, you do seem a little tense, but I don’t blame you. We’re strangers. You don’t understand why I’d buy you a dress and follow you and generally act…weird.”

“So, you’re acknowledging this is odd behavior.” That didn’t stop her from turning over her hand and tentatively threading her fingers through mine.

Just the friction of our skin was electric. My head snapped up, our gazes locked, and I knew, just knew, she felt it too. My pulse kicked into overdrive and her breathing sped up enough for her glossy lips to part.

It took all my will not to lean forward and bite that pouty pink flesh.

“I understand what I’ve done would raise questions,” I responded when I could finally speak.

“Just questions, hmm? Not for me to run away screaming?”

“I’d love to make you scream for an entirely different reason.” I squeezed her fingers lightly. “Just give me a chance.”

As the silence grew between us, I stared into her thickly-lashed hazel eyes. I’d beg her to run away with me in another minute.

To right where we were, so we never had to go back.

She smiled, so quickly I was sure I’d imagined it. “You do wonders for my ego. A man like you could have anyone.”

“The only one I want is you. I have from the first.”

She looked down at our joined hands. Her pale flesh against my much more golden skin somehow looked erotic. “I want to go dancing first.”

“Anywhere. There’s a club just—”

“You mentioned you have a deck. Is there room to dance there?”

“Yes.” A slab of granite had wedged itself in my throat, and no matter how much I swallowed, nothing dislodged it. “And we would have the beach too.”

“Okay. I need to text my grandmother where I’ll be.”

“Of course. I’m in 1401. You’re close with her?” I coughed into my hand. “You must be if she buys your condoms.”

“Smart ass.” She shrugged. “I just ran out.”

Don’t be jealous of the nameless, faceless men she’s having so much sex with. Even if you haven’t seen her with anyone here. And no man shares this suite with her.

At least, there was nothing visible that seemed male. Regardless, I couldn’t take the chance.

“Are you single?” It physically pained me, but I detangled our fingers while I waited for her answer. A shark chomping off my foot probably wouldn’t have hurt much more.

Fine, at least a toe.

No need to be dramatic, even if I was practically ready to promise lifelong fealty to this woman. And I pledged to no one.

Not anymore.

Obviously, my dry spell had done more harm than I’d realized. It was past time to end it.

“What? Yes. Yes, of course. I haven’t—I don’t—” She took a deep breath that smoothed out the sudden jaggedness inside me. “I’m not that kind of person.”

“Good. Me either.”

“So, you’re single too?”

“I am.”

“Since last night?” Her lame attempt at a joke didn’t make me smile.

“Since, oh, three years, eight months, and sixteen days ago. Give or take some hours and considering the time difference.”

She tried to keep the shock off her face but failed miserably. “You can’t have been alone that long.”

“Yes, I can.” My smile was a quick twist of my lips without the slightest bit of warmth. “I’ve had sex since then. Quite a lot of it, actually.”

Her nose wrinkled. “Lovely.”

I had to chuckle. “But not recently. It’s been over a year since I’ve touched a woman. Equally as long since I’ve wanted to.” I rubbed my thumb over her palm and watched her pupils flare from awareness. “And I’ve never wanted to touch anyone as much as I want to touch you.”

“You’re a charmer,” she said after a moment, her voice nearly as raw as my own.

I laughed again. “Actually, those who know me in my real life would say I’m anything but. I’m a shark. A lion. An apex predator who eats the young of my prey for a bedtime snack.”

“Sharp detour from charm into potential criminal past.”

My laughter softened. She didn’t seem afraid anymore, thankfully. “You’re safe with me.” I let my gaze roam slowly over her face. So many nuances lived inside her expression. I was as eager to peel back her layers as I was to have her naked and at my mercy. “As safe as you want to be.”

“I don’t.”

It was my turn to be silent.

“I’m tired of being safe. My life is made up of routines and schedules and careful plans. No deviation, no rocking the boat. Right now, my grandmother is probably swinging from the chandelier with some young buck named Pedro Pablo and having the time of her life.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

She pushed the fingers of her free hand though her long sunny waves. “She told me to get laid. Do you know how mortifying that is?” She pressed her face into her hand, her shoulders shaking.

Fuck me, was she weeping?

I did not deal well with crying women. Normally when I encountered them, I put them in the capable care of my assistant and told her to offer them fresh pastries.

Vienna wasn’t here right now, and there wasn’t a croissant in sight.

Then my mystery woman lifted her head and grinned. “You’re off to a great start with the dress fit for Cinderella, but I want to have a hell of a story to tell—”

“No. Oh, no. Stop right there.” I held up my free hand. “If you intend to tell your grandmother what we do in bed, I’m going to reconsider this whole arrangement.”

She leaned toward me until our noses were a hairsbreadth apart. I could practically taste the fruity drink she’d had at dinner from the wisp of her breath on my lips. “Is that what we have? An arrangement?”

“Depends on what you want.”

“No strings. Nothing to tie us down or hold us back for as long as we’re here.” The indent in her chin was going to kill me as that shy smile lifted her lips again. “And you’re hereby instructed to give me an amazing story to tell my best friends.”

“Best friends are far more doable than grandmothers.”

“Especially mine. Both are hot as hell.”

“Hotter than you?” If I moved a fraction closer, our lips would be pressed together. “Not possible.”

She bit her lower lip, her white teeth piercing that full flesh. “It’s time to dance, island stranger.”

Before I could process it, she released my hand and moved away from the bed to grab her bag and head for the door.

I groaned and fell backward on the mattress.

“Coming?” she called sunnily, laughter rich in her tone.

I forced myself to my elbows just to take in the picture of her with her hand on her hip, flashing me a bewitching grin. Already she seemed so much more confident than she had just a few moments ago. If that was at all due to me, I was grateful.

Who knew it would feel so good to make someone happy rather than to delight in their misery? And God, wasn’t I a pitiful sod if that was a revelation.

“You lead and I’ll follow, Cinderella.”

Her expression flickered and then we both glanced down at her bare feet. She’d forgotten to put her sandals back on.

When she bent to retrieve them, I rose and snagged her wrist. Her pulse beat strong and true against my thumb, racing just like my own.

If I could do only one thing for the rest of my life, touching her would be enough.

“Hello, I need my shoes.”

“I have a better idea.” I sidestepped her without releasing her wrist and picked up the bedside phone to call the concierge. The entire time, my gaze stayed riveted on hers.

When someone answered, I smiled. “Yes, I’m calling for 1401. I need a pair of high heels perfect for Cinderella delivered to me.” When she tried to jerk away, I tightened my grip and twisted my head to see the tag on the footbed of her sandals. “Size ten.”

Ten?I mouthed, cocking a brow.

She dropped the shoes and gave me the middle finger, making me grin. But she didn’t try to yank away.

My mysterious stranger enjoyed being restrained. Duly noted.

“As you wish, sir.”

The movie reference from the man on the phone made me smile. Too many hours babysitting Michaela back in the day had given me a broad education on the wild world of chick flicks. “Thank you.”

As soon as I hung up, my Cinderella started to speak.

I laid a finger against her lips, silencing her. “Even apex predators appreciate heels on a stunning woman. Indulge me.”

“Just as long as you remember to indulge me,” she muttered.

“Oh, Cinderella, I’ve thought of nothing else all night.”