EIGHT

Sadie hoped it didn’t look like she’d run away. Which, of course, is exactly what she’d done. But she hoped that from a distance, it looked like she had just moved – very quickly – away from the pool. And not dashed straight right back to her room.

Sliding her patio door shut and flipping the lock into place, Sadie leaned against the glass and willed her heartbeat to return to its normal pace. Or at least something in the vicinity.

Water, let’s start with water. She’d been out of her room almost all day but knew that the staff had been in and restocked her wet bar. Sadie downed half of a bottle of water in the first gulp, ignoring the cold trickle that ran off her chin onto her chest.

She’d known he had arrived. Of course. She could recite the arrival days and times of all twenty guests on her list. Jack Avery had arrived with Mark Donovan on the corporate jet at 5:23 PM and checked into the hotel at 5:50 PM. Give or take a few minutes. They’d had a dinner reservation at The Grill at 7:30 PM, allowing them enough time to finish the conference call that Janine had arranged for them to take from Mr. Donovan’s villa at 6:15 PM. Oh, she’d known he was there. And not just in the mental ticker that kept running tabs on what was happening with her event at any given time. No, her whole body had been aware of his presence on the island. Her skin hypersensitive, her posture tense, as if holding her body in constant preparation to duck behind a palm tree or escape in the nearest golf cart if he suddenly appeared.

But that response wasn’t instinctual. It was conditioned. Since reading his letter that morning, Sadie had maintained a constant diatribe in her head. An emergency action message stuck on repeat, telling herself to run away from him, not to him. To be cautious of him, not crave him. To keep as much distance between them as the resort would allow. And to definitely not imagine what his long, muscular body would look like stretched across the luxurious bed she knew filled the master room of his villa.

“New rule, Sadie,” she said to herself. “No mixing drinks and Jack Avery. Bad, bad, bad combination.” It was a rule that she wished she could apply retroactively, because as soon as her mind jumped to the vision of his tan skin against the white linens of his bed, it stumbled to a halt. And it gave no signs of starting back up again.

Trying to regain some semblance of control, Sadie pattered across her room, reiterating her to-do list for the following day while getting ready for bed. She’d managed to change into her light nightshirt without incident. And pull the drapes closed without wondering if Jack was still standing lookout on the terrace. She’d washed her face, brushed her teeth, and tied up her hair all without wondering what it would feel like to have Jack touch her cheek, her lips, the nape of her neck.

But once she slipped between the cool sheets of her bed, Sadie found her ability – and her will – to ignore Jack vanishing. That fissure that had formed while she’d been mesmerized by the view from the Seven Winds Villa had deepened at the sight of Jack. All of the words from his letter kept pouring out, battering themselves against the willpower that Sadie had spent months fortifying, insinuating themselves between the careful arguments she’d built about why she had to stay away.

It’s just the rum, Sadie thought, as a wave of heat fanned out along her torso. It had been a warm day, she’d spent almost all of it on her feet, and had topped it off with Jasper’s two generous servings of rum. That’s why you are so hot, she argued silently. Not because of Jack.

Sadie wrestled her legs from the tangle she’d made of her sheets, fanning them out once free, rubbing her soles against the crisp smoothness in the hopes it would ease some of her tension. “To feel the heat of your skin inches from mine….” Jack’s words echoed in her brain, the strong lines and loops of his handwriting imprinting themselves on her closed eyelids.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” Sadie shook her head, trying to push the longing away. But with every twist of her body the friction along her skin became worse, her craving only intensifying. She flexed her fingers against the sheets, desperate for some sense of relief. But her traitorous memory replaced the cool cotton beneath her hands with the supple softness of his cashmere sweater in Colorado. It was the briefest trick, a mental slight of hand, but instead of the bed, Sadie felt the hard wood of Jack’s hotel door pressed against her back. And the heat of his body running the length of her.

And Sadie couldn’t fight it anymore. Her breathing was shallow, her lips parted as she tried to fill her lungs. Her chest felt swollen, heavy against the softness of her shirt, her back arching of its own volition, pushing her nipples into the fabric, seeking to ease the tension. Sadie felt the desire that had gathered in her core spread, to her breasts that longed to be touched, to her lips that longed to be kissed, to the apex of her thighs that longed to be licked.

Sadie raised one hand, finding a peaked nipple beneath the fabric, circling, rubbing, pinching as the pulsing in her body increased. Sliding beneath the hem of her shirt, Sadie ran her other hand between her legs, her heartbeat kicking up. Even from the outside of her panties she could feel how much she wanted Jack. How much she wanted him to be the one touching, tracing, pressing into her. The pressure through the thin cotton wasn’t anywhere close to enough. Sadie slipped her hand past the elastic band, skimming across her tiny, dark curls before sinking into her own heat. Her body bowed at her own touch, a small gasp escaping her lips.

Again, again, Sadie dipped her fingers deep into her velvety slickness, delighting in the friction. She didn’t want a long tease. Sadie wanted to break apart, to shatter under the memory of Jack’s touch, to revel in the longing he’d captured in his words.

But most of all, she wanted it to be him. With her. Touching her. Squeezing her breast with his hands, laving her nipples with his tongue. And sinking his strong fingers into her folds, so he could feel just how much she desired him, craved him, before consuming her himself.

Sadie could feel the sparks of heat coalescing in her abdomen, the tension collecting in her thighs as she pressed them further apart, making more space for her fingers to play.

Catching her breath on a moan, Sadie arched her hips into her hand, her fingers dancing forcefully against her clit, a practiced choreography she knew would bring release. Her own squeezed tight, Sadie could see Jack’s eyes just as they’d been before their kiss in Colorado. The lust in them, the pure, unvarnished want he felt for her. And with her lips silently curving around his name, Sadie came, a wave of glorious pleasure bursting from beneath her fingers and blanketing her sated body.

***

Jack stayed on the terrace long after Sadie vanished down the path. He could hear Dan – drunk, pain in the ass Dan – arguing with Phillip in the bar, some of their staccato shouts audible over the sound of the sea.

“God damn it, Dan,” Jack muttered under his breath. He’d had the perfect view of Sadie as she’d made her way across the patio below. She’d been in motion, true to form. But instead of the purposeful steps that he’d come to associate with her, she’d been relaxed, almost swaying as she’d walked barefoot around the pool. Jack had felt the thrum of his blood spike when he’d caught his first glimpse of her. It was always there, had been for ages, the steady hum that Jack felt course through his body every time he thought of her. But to see her again after so many months, his entire body had tightened in acute and deliciously painful anticipation. And he’d let himself stare, unabashed, unseen, as she’d progressed beneath him. Until, of course, Dan had lumbered out, all brash and bothered, giving Jack away.

Picking up his rocks glass from where it was balanced on the railing, Jack swallowed the final drops of his whiskey and abandoned his perch.

“Would you like a ride to your villa, Mr. Avery?” One of the porters intercepted him as he stepped onto the front drive and gestured to a waiting golf cart.

“Thanks, but I’ll walk.” Jack gave the young man a brief wave before heading up the path to the Sunset Villa. Mark had already hidden himself away for the night, brushing off Jack’s invite to join him for a postprandial drink. Jack knew Mark was distracted, their afternoon call with the Board of Directors still weighing on him. Jack didn’t mind his friend ending their dinner early, and he shared Mark’s inclination to enjoy some solitude while on the island. He too would have skipped the bar – skipped the crowd and the noise and the boastful conversations – if he hadn’t known that she was there. Somewhere. He’d been certain that Sadie was nearby, which was the only reason he’d even suggested to Mark that they linger. In spite of Dan’s persistent presence.

Jack’s guess had turned to certainty when one of the bartenders had pushed open a door hidden in the wall, revealing a sliver of the room beyond, Sadie seated at a table next to a woman Jack had seen earlier at hotel registration. She’d been laughing at something her companion had said. And Jack had felt the now-familiar urge to be the one making her laugh.

If Colorado was any indication, Jack figured Sadie would keep herself apart from the group as much as possible while on the island. And she would do anything to avoid going into the crowded cocktail lounge. So he’d taken a chance and approached the bar and the blond-haired man who’d passed through that door. Jack was trying to assemble the right words, put them in the right order so that the bartender wouldn’t call hotel security when asked about the dark-haired woman in the room hidden behind him, but it turned out that subpar subterfuge wasn’t necessary.

Just as Jack reached his destination the guest in front of him grabbed the shoulder of his companion and tried to force a heavy rocks glass between his lips. The other man, wholeheartedly disinterested in whatever drink the other guy was trying to pour down his throat, pushed the first one back. The shove was poorly executed and caused the instigator to drop the glass, liquid and shards flying up to cover them both. The bartender was between them almost immediately, but he could only manage one of them while trying to contain the mess spreading across the bar.

Jack wrapped one hand around the other guy’s shoulder, both steadying and forcing him to keep his distance from his erstwhile attacker. There hadn’t been much of a struggle; both men were far more concerned about their clothes and the glass than the disagreement that had caused it. But the bartender, Jasper, according to his name badge, thrust out his hand to Jack as soon as the two inebriates retreated to their rooms.

“Thanks for stepping in.”

“No problem,” Jack replied, “though you didn’t need the help. Conflict de-escalation – is that a standard part of your employee training? Or is life at the Seven Winds, contrary to appearances, nothing but one big bar brawl?”

Jasper bit back a laugh. “You’d be surprised at how close it comes to the second one. But I picked up all of my tricks before landing here.”

“Misspent youth?”

“If by that you mean wrangling calves from over-protective mama heifers, then, yeah, misspent youth.”

“Definitely sounds like,” Jack said with an easy grin.

“Since I’m guessing you didn’t come to the bar just to break up fights, I’m betting you’d like a drink right about now. What can I get you?”

“Macallan 18, neat. Please.” Jasper placed a generous pour in front of Jack and he took a sip before dropping the question. “You wouldn’t happen to know my colleague Sadie Carter would you? I believe she arrived yesterday but I haven’t seen her yet. Was just wondering if you know if she’s here already.”

“Sadie Carter?” Jasper’s eyes narrowed as he looked more closely at Jack. “You work with her?”

“Yes. I’m here for a meeting. She’s here for the same one.” Jack didn’t like the assessing gaze Jasper gave him, but he also didn’t think the bartender needed to know exactly how – or how well – they knew each other.

Jack saw a whisper of recognition pass over Jasper’s face before the bartender responded. “Mr. Jack Avery, is it? Here with D&A International. With us in the Sunset Villa, for the next seven nights.” Jasper rattled off the details of Jack’s presence on the island as casually as he would have his own height, weight and eye color.

“Yes.” Jack swirled the whisky in his glass. The grins they had both worn a moment earlier were gone and Jack thought he saw a hint of possessiveness in Jasper’s expression. And that prodded to life something deep and surprisingly dark inside of him. A hot burst of jealousy. “Are you that knowledgeable about every guest staying here?”

“You’d be surprised.” Jasper held Jack’s eyes for another moment before dropping them to the glass he was polishing. “But, in this case, Sadie, Ms. Carter has kept us well informed about all of her high-profile guests. You included.”

Jack ignored the pleasure that bloomed in his gut at the idea of Sadie thinking about him, preparing for him, and focused on Jasper’s confession. “So you do know her.”

Jasper didn’t even pause with his polishing. “Yes.”

“And you’ve seen her. Since she’s arrived.”

“Yes.”

“Any chance you know where she is at the moment?”

“Not a clue, sorry.” This time Jack knew he wasn’t imagining it. Jasper’s eyes were hard. He was not going to help Jack. Not tonight. Most likely never.

Jack looked over his shoulder to where the bar’s doors were open to the terrace, deciding it was time to get some fresh air. “Understood. Thanks. I’ll just find her tomorrow.” Jack lifted his glass. “Should I sign for this?”

Jasper shook his head. “Not tonight, Mr. Avery. This one is on the house. For earlier.”

“Thanks, Jasper. Appreciate it.”

“Have a good evening, Mr. Avery.”

Jack had raised his glass again in parting before moving to stand out in the moonlight. He’d braced himself against the railing, his eyes trained on the ground below, watchful. And by the time Sadie had strolled past him, her sandals in hand, arms gently swinging, Jack was using all of the self-restraint he possessed to keep from calling out to her. From rushing down to talk to her, touch her. And by the time she’d disappeared back into the night, Jack was certain of two things: that he would not leave the island before he got Sadie Carter into his bed; and, that once there, one night together would never be enough.