CHAPTER TEN
One sleeping pill, two and a half glasses of wine, and three meals later and we finally land in Costa Rica.
Once we were safely on our way in the air, I quickly realized the only way to get through the flight would be if I were mercifully passed out. So I proceeded to make sure that happened as quickly as possible. If Michael noticed, he didn’t let on. He had eventually quit the sexual teases, pulled his laptop back out and began to immerse himself in work. He did generously ask if I wanted to sleep in the bedroom and though part of me didn’t want to leave his side, I knew keeping a safe distance from him would be the only way to survive the flight. So after a few hours, when I could barely keep my eyes open, I left him and went to rest in the bedroom.
I’m dead asleep when the flight attendant knocks on the door and notifies me that we’ll be landing within the hour. It takes me a moment to get my bearings, and then I look out the window of the plane and remember where I am.
And whom I’m traveling with.
Right. Talk about a reality check.
Fighting off the fogginess from the sleeping pill is a hard battle, but I slowly manage to put myself together, immensely grateful for the privacy of the room. When I finally make my way out to the main cabin, Michael looks fresh and perfect, somehow completely unaffected by the long travel time.
Another reason to be annoyed by him.
I, on the other hand, feel like hell and after staring at myself in the bathroom mirror, am pretty sure I look like it too. I should never have taken the sleeping pill since I’m pretty sure it’s half the reason I feel so out of sorts. I can’t wait to get to Michael’s home so I can shower and freshen up.
“Did you sleep well?” Michael politely asks when I take my seat beside him.
His laptop is open and it looks like he’s been working. It’s exactly the way I left him when I went to go sleep.
“I did, thank you,” I reply, fastening my seat belt.
“Would you like an espresso?”
“That would be perfect.”
Michael flags down the flight attendant and asks her to bring me an espresso and fresh fruit.
“Did you manage to sleep at all?” I ask him as I nod toward his laptop.
“Just a few hours,” Michael admits with a small smile. “I found it hard to fall asleep.”
“The time difference?” I commiserate.
“No,” Michael shakes his head. “My mind was just too preoccupied.”
Don’t ask, Abby.
Don’t ask.
“With?”
“The beautiful woman sleeping on my plane,” he says softly, seductively. “In my bed. Alone.”
I die. Just a little.
He watches me for a moment, observing my reaction.
“Now be a good girl and fasten your seat belt for me.” Michael’s voice is husky as he turns toward my body and proceeds to reach around my waist to grab hold of the seat belt.
His hands skim across my body, igniting a fire inside with every light touch.
“I can do it. ” I try to take the buckle out his hand and end the assault to my senses, but he pushes my hands aside.
“Allow me.”
He snaps the buckle in place, and I’m spared from further torture when he turns his attention to the scenery that is visible from the window. I watch as a look of happiness sweeps over his face.
“God, I love it here.” His voice sounds wistful.
I follow his gaze and look out the window and stare at the lush tropical foliage that’s visible as our plane descends. An excited buzz sweeps over me at the thought of seeing this country for the first time.
The plane lands a few minutes later, and before I know it, we’re rushed through customs then ushered into a waiting SUV.
The humidity hits me hard and I peel off my light cotton sweater and stare in awe at the wild and untouched landscape of Costa Rica. Exotic foliage lines the streets as we pass through rural towns. Stray dogs run alongside the roads and locals have small make-shift businesses set up to sell trinkets to tourists.
“My home isn’t far from here,” Michael explains as I take in my surroundings.
I glance down at my phone and take in the time difference. It’s five o’clock back in London, which means it’s morning here in Costa Rica.
“This is the local town, Puerto Viejo. There are some really amazing restaurants that you have to try while you’re here. I’ll have to bring you down a few nights for the local cuisine and nightlife.”
“Only if it’s not too much trouble.”
And just how is eating local cuisine and experiencing the nightlife considered a business trip?
I keep my gaze glued safely out the window and try to focus on the new sights. But now that I’m thinking about the entire trip ahead, I’m not really seeing anything.
“I insist.” Michael’s voice is husky and filled with promise.
I take in a deep breath and close my eyes, trying with all my power to fight this insatiable attraction I have for him.
Torture.
Here it is.
Again.
The car takes a sudden turn up a small dirt road, jolting me out of my reflection. The terrain becomes rough as we make our way into the jungle, passing white cows grazing the lands. It’s the complete opposite of the busy streets of London, and I’m enthralled by everything I see.
The rest of the ride is pretty rough, but it doesn’t take too long. When we reach a gate guarded by two security officers, the driver rolls down the window and exchanges a few words with the men.
One of the guards, a pleasant looking man who looks to be in his twenties, leans into the window and gives a welcoming wave to Michael.
“Hola, Mr. Sinclair,” he says with a smile. “It’s nice to have you home.”
“Joseph, it feels incredible to be back,” Michael greets him warmly. “How are you?”
“Good as can be,” Joseph replies. “Caught some killer waves this morning. You came in at the perfect time.”
I watch how Michael’s eyes light up in pleasure.
“I’m itching to get out there,” he admits with longing.
Michael surfs. I never knew.
“And how’s school?” Michael continues.
“It’s rough,” Joseph says with a sheepish shrug. “But that’s how it goes.”
I sit quietly and watch the two speak.
“And Carla?” Michael asks.
“Driving me crazy,” Joseph says, rolling his eyes. “She’s nagging me to get serious, and I can’t take it anymore. You know how women are, Boss.”
I try to cover my amusement, but I fail. Joseph’s eyes flash in surprise when he sees me.
“Apologies, ma’am.” He sounds mortified.
“None needed,” I tell him with a laugh. “I get it.”
Joseph gives me a sheepish smile.
“Joseph, this is Abby.” Michael introduces us with a smile. “Abby, Joseph is my head of security and surfing partner.”
I wait for him to let Joseph know I’m his PA but it doesn’t come.
“Nice to meet you, Abby,” Joseph says. “Is this your first time in Costa Rica?”
“It is.”
“Welcome to our country.” Joseph gives me a broad smile. “I hope you’ll enjoy your stay.”
“I’m sure I will,” I reply kindly.
Joseph seems extremely likable and from the brief encounter, I can see why Michael spends time with him when he’s in town. His demeanor is so carefree. He’s the polar opposite of the guys I went to school with and from the people I know are in Michael’s social circle at home.
“Excuse me for one minute,” Michael says to me with an apologetic grin before switching dialects and speaking to Joseph in fluent Spanish.
Another ability I never knew he had until now. And Lord is it sexy. I watch them speak for another minute longer before he glances over at me.
“I’m going to take Abby to the house and get her settled in,” Michael switches back to English. “I’ll catch up with you later.”
Joseph taps the exterior of the car before stepping away from the vehicle. We drive down a long pebbled road before pulling up to a giant contemporary hacienda overlooking the Caribbean. The house sits a ways back from the ocean, but you can easily walk there in no time at all.
“Welcome to my home.” Michael’s excitement is contagious, and I suddenly get a second wind and can’t wait to explore the property.
“It’s gorgeous,” I tell him in awe as I take it all in. “Truly.”
Michael grins in pleasure as the car comes to a stop in front of the giant entryway of his house.
“It’s my favorite place on earth,” he admits with boyish enthusiasm.
I’m touched he brought me here.
To his favorite place.
“I can see why.”
“Wait until I show you the rest.” He opens the door and hops out of the car, holding out his hand for me.
My heart skips a beat.
Something has definitely shifted between us, and I can only wait and see what’s in store for me. After everything he’s put me through in the past few weeks, I know I should reject his touch but I can’t because no matter how right or wrong it is, I’m craving any kernel of affection he’ll give me. I take his hand and it engulfs mine.
And it feels like the most natural thing in the world.
Once I’m out of the car, I expect him to let go, but he doesn’t. I pretend like holding hands with him is normal even though my body is humming with electricity.
His tall frame towers over mine when I look up at him.
He looks so impossibly handsome.
Why is he still holding my hand?
“Ready?” he asks.
“Yes,” I whisper breathlessly as he slowly lifts my hand and brushes his lips across my knuckles. My skin tingles at the soft touch. His hot gaze traps mine for a second before tugging me along, leading me through the arched open entryway into his home.
An enormous round water fountain flows in the center of the hacienda-style courtyard. Two Buddha statues, which look to be over seven feet tall, flank the wooden doors that lead into his home. A woman, who I gather is a member of his staff, is waiting to greet us. She has dark black hair and tanned skin and looks to be in her fifties. Like Joseph, she has the same relaxed look on her face.
And just like Joseph, she seems genuinely happy to see Michael.
Michael is definitely loved by his employees.
“Welcome home, Mr. Sinclair,” she says with a smile.
“Giselle,” Michael returns, “It’s good to be back.”
He turns toward me to introduce us.
“This is Abby.”
Again, I wait for him to say that I’m his PA and we’re here to work but like before, it doesn’t come. Giselle gives me a friendly smile.
“So nice to meet you, Abby,” Giselle says. “If you need anything during your stay here please don’t hesitate to ask. I live in the guest house on the property so I can be here at any time.”
“Thank you,” I reply gratefully.
“I hope you and your family are doing well?” Michael asks Giselle as he takes a step closer to me, allowing his body to brush up against mine.
I feel myself involuntarily lean into his touch, hungry for any piece of him I can get. Again, I know I shouldn’t allow him the freedom to touch me when I don’t even know what’s going on between us but I can’t seem to stop him.
I don’t want to.
Instead, I crave him, greedy for any affection I can get—just like an addict. His fingers rub my hand softly as he and Giselle speak. I wonder if he even realizes he’s doing it.
My stomach clenches in response.
“We are good, Mr. Sinclair,” she says. “We are all good. And I must thank you again for taking care of Eli’s hospital expenses for us.”
Michael lifts his hand up, shaking his head.
“Please. Don’t even mention it. Eli is a member of the family. How is he recovering?”
“He’s doing so much better, like nothing was ever wrong,” Giselle says with a laugh. “Here he comes!”
We turn at that moment and a giant dog rushes toward Michael and me at full speed ahead. Michael lets go of my hand and laughs in joy, crouching down to greet the mutt as it hurls itself into his arms.
I laugh in pleasure as the dog throws slobbering kisses all over his face. Michael doesn’t seem to mind.
I crouch down as well and pat Eli who turns his full attention to me, smothering me with affection.
“He’s such a lover.” Giselle laughs as she watches Eli with me.
I hug the dog back as Michael watches us intently.
“What was wrong with him?” I ask out loud.
“He caught a virus,” Michael tells me. “It was touch and go there for a while.”
“Well thank God you’re okay now, Eli.” My voice is tender as I rub his body and place kisses on his head. “I’m so happy to meet you. You’re such a good boy! Yes, you are. You’re just a lover.”
Michael stands abruptly, his mood shifting.
“Let’s get you settled in your room.” His voice sounds gruff.
I give Eli another soft kiss then reluctantly get up.
“He’s the best,” I tell Michael as I give Eli another big smile.
“Will you be having dinner at home this evening?” Giselle asks.
“We’ll stay in tonight and have an early dinner on the veranda,” Michael informs her. “With the time difference, it might be too much for Abby the first night she’s here.”
“I’m all right with whatever you want,” I try to argue.
“Trust me,” Michael smiles knowingly. “You will hit a wall around three or four o’clock. It’s the witching hour for jet lag. It’s always inevitable the first few days.”
“I guess you know better than me.”
“Trust me,” he says.
“Well, that settles it then,” Giselle says, clasping her hands together. She looks over at me. “Do you have any food allergies, Abby?”
“None,” I shake my head.
“Perfect.”
Giselle motions toward the house.
“As you requested, I’ve prepared the two master suites upstairs for you,” she tells Michael.
“Thank you, Giselle. We’ll be all right on our own now. I’m just going to show Abby around.”
To my surprise, Michael grabs hold of my hand again and takes me into his home.
The front doors open up to an enormous space with floor-to-ceiling windows that look out onto the ocean. I can see a huge infinity pool surrounded by lounge chairs and tables, set up in a way to appreciate the captivating view.
The hallways are decorated with teak wood and natural stone. We step into the family room that has a modern white wraparound couch with dark blue accents. The couch is set in front of a limestone wall that has a giant flat screen television. The furniture is modern but extremely inviting.
“This is the main family room, but there are other lounge areas around the house,” Michael tells me as we walk through the home.
The dining room is next to the family room and is also set up for a large number of people—the home was definitely built for entertaining friends.
“It’s incredible,” I tell him as I look around at the oasis he’s created.
He leads me into the kitchen.
It’s state of the art and quite impressive with its white limestone countertops and two central islands. The kitchen leads out onto an open-air ocean-view terrace with an intimate dining table set up against a sleek outdoor fireplace.
“There are five bedrooms downstairs,” Michael explains. “As well as an office and small theater room.”
“I can see why you love it here,” I tell him, staring out on the view. I can’t seem to look away from it. “I’d never be able to leave this place.”
“It is hard,” Michael agrees with a smile. “But then it can be lonely here by yourself.”
“I can’t imagine you haven’t come here with family and friends or…” I try to keep my voice light. “Or even a girlfriend.”
Michael pins me with his gaze.
“I’ve never brought a woman here before.”
Pleasure.
His words cause a rush of pleasure to sweep through my body, making me feel almost high with joy.
I’m the first woman he’s brought here?
Don’t read into anything, Abby. Georgie’s words echo in my head.
Don’t. Do. It.
But it’s so hard!
“Shall I show you the bedrooms?” Michael asks after an awkward silence.
“Yes, please,” I tell him.
We walk upstairs and the wide hallway leads to the two different sections of the house. The house is designed to take full advantage of the gorgeous ocean views. Michael makes a left turn and we walk down a ways before he leads me through two double doors.
“The home has two identical master suites,” he explains. “This will be yours. I’m in the other.”
The room is impressive. The king-size bed faces the sliding glass doors that look out toward the ocean. I’ll be able to open them when I sleep at night and listen to the soothing sound of the ocean. The room has a private sitting area done in the same color schemes as the rest of the house with a couch and two lounge chairs. I even have my own flat screen TV that pops up out of a consul in front of my bed. The master bath is done in white marble and has a huge shower that has an electronic panel to start up one of the five showerheads that fall like rain from above.
“How do you like it?” Michael asks after we walk through the whole room.
I find myself standing by the windows just soaking in the incredible tropical views. This will never get old, I think to myself.
“How do you think I like it?” I jokingly ask him. “Your place is absolutely gorgeous!”
His eyes darken as he watches me intently. I can feel my body react.
There’s a knock at the door and we both turn to see the driver bringing in my luggage. He places it in the walk-in closet and quietly leaves us.
Michael turns to me.
“I’ll let you freshen up,” he says. “I was going to change into my swim trunks and go for a swim if you’re up for it.”
My mouth goes dry.
“What about work?” I ask him the obvious question. Every activity he’s suggested so far sounds more like a romantic holiday than a business trip.
“Work can wait.” Michael laughs. “Besides, I’m your boss, and I vote that we have some fun first.”
“But that’s not why we’re here,” I remind him.
“No,” he agrees with a mischievous grin. “But you’ve never been to Costa Rica before. I wouldn’t be a good host if I didn’t show you the country.”
He makes it sound so easy.
So innocent. The man is relentless.
Michael takes a step toward me and my heart slams against my chest.
“What do you say?”
Go with the flow… I hear Georgie’s words echo in my head.
“Since you’re not giving me much choice, then I reluctantly agree.” I know my voice sounds nervous but I can’t help it.
“Reluctantly agree?”
I meet his gaze with a challenge.
“Is that a problem?” I eye him cautiously.
“Not at all,” he says. “As long as you agree, I’ll take it.”
I lift my eyes to meet his. I wonder what he’s thinking. If he’s as confused as I am. I doubt that to be the case, given how in control Michael always seems.
“I’ll meet you out by the pool once I’ve cleaned up,” I tell him softly.
With my promise to join him, Michael leaves me to get ready for the day.
When he’s gone, I send two quick texts to Georgie and Danielle letting them know I arrived and am safe. Both of them respond separately with excited texts back and I respond with a nervous faced emoji.
Next, I unpack my bags and get organized—a quirk I have whenever I travel. Everything has to be put away in its proper place. I’m not one of those people that can keep their things in their suitcase. I’m grateful for the ritual because it helps calm the nerves Michael’s successfully wound up so tightly.
After I’m done with that, I shower and immediately feel infinitely better.
I slip into my black bikini, the one Georgie says makes me look sexy, and put on blush and lip gloss to give my pale complexion some color. I don’t overdo it because I don’t want Michael to think I’m trying too hard. I’m already nervous enough as it is about being half naked around him, I can’t do anything that might add to my stress. I stand in front of the full-length mirror and stare at my body for a good long minute, looking for any flaws that Michael might notice.
Surprisingly, it’s not so bad.
My waist is thankfully narrow even with all of my recent binge eating, my hips full, my legs are thin and shapely. And I have always been proud of the way my breasts fill out a bikini top. No complaints there. I look good, I think to myself. I throw a black gauzy cover-up on, grab my sunglasses and a bottle of water I found on my nightstand, and head out to the pool.
I’m the first to arrive.
It looks like Giselle was told we’d spend the day outside because a few umbrellas have been opened up and towels have been placed on the lounge chairs. There’s also a full platter of fruit and cheese on one of the four-top tables covered by shade. And Bob Marley’s sexy voice rings through the speakers. He’s one of my all-time favorites.
It’s a scene set up for romance and fun.
I grab a handful of grapes off the platter and pop some in my mouth before making my way to one of the chairs.
As I’m taking my bikini cover-up off, Giselle comes out to greet me.
“Hola, Abby,” she says with a friendly smile.
“Hola,” I reply.
“What can I get you to drink? We have many fresh juices and all sorts of tropical drinks. And Mr. Sinclair tells me I make a very good spicy margarita.”
The occasion definitely calls for alcohol.
“Your margarita sounds amazing,” I say as my eyes light up.
“I will make you one now,” she says with a laugh. “Can I get you anything to eat as well?”
“No, that’s all right. I’m not really hungry. The fruit and cheese are plenty. Thank you, Giselle.”
Giselle nods politely before leaving to get my drink.
I settle into my chair and sigh in pleasure as the rays of the sun hit my skin. It feels like heaven. I let my mind wander, and because I can’t help myself, I start obsessing about all of the mixed messages Michael has thrown my way. I recall all of our moments together. The passion we’ve shared. The things he’s said.
Up until the other night, he’s been back and forth—like he was fighting his attraction for me. But now, something has changed.
He’s holding my hand.
He’s openly flirting.
His every action is telling me he’s interested. Isn’t he? I can’t be reading into any of this?
But then, there’s the other part of me. The part that has to guard my heart against further torment. The part that’s afraid to believe that something’s different because he’s been known to change his mind in the course of a night. It’s just so confusing. I don’t know how to behave anymore. If I’m supposed to just allow all the intimacies or am I supposed to reject them because he hasn’t told me he’s ready to give us a try?
Is he? Is that what this trip is about?
I’m not naïve enough to believe he’s brought me here to Costa Rica to work. Not after everything that’s happened between us.
And honestly, now that I’m here with him, I’m even more in turmoil than ever. A part of me is nervous. A part scared. A part hopeful that this could finally be it for us. All of these feelings just percolating inside my heart as I wonder which emotion is the safest bet.
“Here you are,” Giselle says as she walks over to me and hands me an enormous drink. “Let me know if it’s not strong enough.”
“This looks delicious,” I tell her with a grateful smile as I take a sip of the spicy drink.
It’s really strong.
“It’s just perfect.”
“I’m headed out to do some grocery shopping for dinner, but if you need anything, please help yourself in the kitchen.”
“I will,” I promise her. “And thank you for everything, Giselle. Please don’t worry about me.”
She leaves, and I take another sip of the drink before putting it down. I need to pace myself considering the alcohol/sun combination will definitely not help with the jet lag.
I slip on my sunglasses, close my eyes, and take in the sun. The rays work like magic and I’m relaxed in no time.
“If you’re not careful, you’ll burn,” I hear Michael say as he comes up to cast a shadow over my half-naked body.
I open my eyes and stare up at him.
He’s wearing black swim trunks and a white T-shirt.
I watch as his eyes glaze in desire as they sweep over my body, lingering on my stomach, breasts, and lips before settling on my face.
My body hums with longing.
“I put on sunscreen.”
“The sun is killer here,” he murmurs. “It catches you before you know it.”
“I think I’ll be fine for a little while longer and then I promise I’ll move in the shade,” I reassure him.
His eyes flicker over the drink sitting on the small table by my lounge chair.
“Giselle make you a spicy margarita?” he asks with a knowing smile. “It’s her specialty.”
“Yes, I know,” I say. “She told me.”
Michael reaches back over his shoulders and pulls his shirt right over his head.
He tosses it on the chair next to me and I’m left staring at the body I’ve obsessed about since puberty.
My mouth goes dry.
He’s perfect.
Really.
From his slim hips, to narrow waist, and hard-as-nails six pack that is literally drool worthy—he’s pretty damn unreal. His legs are powerful, his thigh muscles thick and cut as sharply as the rest of him. His arms are long, sinewy, rippling with every movement like he was sculpted by a master.
So bloody unfair.
I’m staring. Like the kind that is so obvious, there’s no way I can deny what I’m doing. I might even be drooling now.
I’d like to blame the improper behavior on my jet lag, but unfortunately, that is just not the case. When I’m finally able to look him in the eyes again, I have New Year’s Eve style fireworks going off in my body.
From the look on his face, I think he knows.
“Hungry?” he asks enigmatically.
A loaded question.
“I’m fine,” I say with a shaky breath. “Giselle already offered to make me something.”
“Let me know if you change your mind.” His voice sounds husky, filled with sexual innuendo. “I’m going to cool down and do some laps.”
I watch as he does a perfect dive into the pool and begins to methodically do laps across the length. Since I’ve clearly given up on trying to act uninterested, I lean up in the chair and stare at him as he swims back and forth. The muscles in his arms ripple as he expertly moves through the water. He has beautiful form. Just like an Olympic athlete.
I lose count of how many laps he’s done before he stops and leans down in the water until it covers his shoulders.
“You should come in,” he calls out to me as he slices water over his head. “The water feels great.”
The water does look beyond inviting—especially with Michael swimming around in the pool.
I surprise myself when I get out of the chair.
“I think I will,” I tell him as I boldly walk over to the edge of the pool.
I can feel his gaze move over my body as I dip a toe in.
“It’s heavenly.” My smile freezes on my face when I glance over at Michael.
Heat.
Holy. Lord.
The way he’s looking at me. Like I’m the sexiest thing he’s ever seen in his life. Like he wants to devour every inch of me. I shouldn’t need to see his naked desire. I shouldn’t crave it.
But I do.
Every part of my body is exposed to him, my bikini leaving little to the imagination. And for whatever reason, I don’t mind. In fact, standing before him like this makes me feel powerful. Like I hold the keys to something he wants and that I alone can give.
And he’s right about one thing.
The water does feel incredible against my skin. The temperature is perfect.
I slowly take a step in and sink into the pool, fully aware that Michael’s watching my every move. I walk into the water until I’m waist deep. Michael treads water a few feet away from me.
I take a deep breath and dunk my whole body underwater. When I come up for air Michael’s moved closer, now only arm’s length distance from me.
“You remind me of a mermaid,” he says, his eyes appreciatively moving over my face.
“Then you should be scared,” I tease. “Mermaids are known to lure young men to their untimely deaths.”
Michael’s eyes light up.
“There might be something poetic about dying in the arms of such beauty.” A grin tugs at the corner of his mouth.
“You’re still dying,” I say with a laugh and try to brush off his compliment even though my body is humming with joy.
“But what if it’s not a real death?” Michael’s voice sounds husky.
“What other kind of death is there?”
“La petite mort.”
My heart slams against my chest.
The little death.
Or as non-French speaking people know it—an orgasm.
I suck in my breath as the fire behind his words hits me hard.
“Well that would definitely be a much more desirable outcome,” I respond as calmly as I can.
Michael throws his head back and roars with laughter.
“I would think so,” he finally says.
I offer him a shy smile before I lean down in the water and let it slice over my shoulders. I try not stare at his broad chest or the delicious way the sun hits his skin, casting a golden light.
Michael watches me silently, like he’s sizing me up.
“Would you like to play a game?” Michael asks after a moment.
“Depends,” I say with a shrug.
“On?”
“What you have in mind.”
Michael gives me a wolfish grin.
“Something safe,” he tells me. “For now.”