Chapter Eight
Penn
The drive back to Monterey was silent. My father sat in the backseat. Every now and then, a contented smile curved his lips. My stomach knotted every time. There was no denying that my mother had forgiven him, but I still could not even think about it. Still, there had been a strange peace to the entire evening that stayed with us on the winding drive.
Corsica sat next to me. Her long, blonde curls brushed against the leather seats of my car and tickled my arm. I rested it on the center console just for those occasional and accidental caresses. When I caught myself inching my arm closer to her, I shook my head.
Was I losing my mind?
Maybe Corsica was right and my mind was still processing the fact that my mother was gravely ill with breast cancer. There was no other explanation for the magnetic pull I felt towards the secretive and snobby girl next to me. It had nothing to do with the fact that she looked flawless, even after an evening in the woods.
And a roll in the long, summer grass, I thought.
The stab of desire was hot and struck me right down the center. Corsica stirred and shifted in her seat, unconsciously flexing her long, tantalizing legs. At least that reaction I understood. I was more than attracted to Corsica–I desired her. I was thankful for the silence of the car ride just so I could relive our smoking hot kiss again and again.
When I absentmindedly pulled into my own driveway, my father cleared his throat. "I'm checking in at the hotel down on Sea Drive, if you don't mind dropping me off there."
"What? No," Corsica said, sitting up. "You're staying here. It's your house, no matter what Penn says, and there is definitely plenty of room."
Scowling up at the eight-bedroom mansion, I couldn't disagree. "There's a small suite on the end of the east wing that you might like. Still an early riser, I'm assuming," I grumbled.
My father stopped himself from patting my shoulder. "Yes, and thank you. I don't mind the hotel, but I'd love to stay with you."
I shrugged him off and got out of the car. My father was easily forgotten when I opened Corsica's door and her long, luscious legs swung out. I knew the sundress had caused her grief at my mother's encampment, but I appreciated every short inch of it. I held out my hand and couldn't help but tug Corsica close as she stood up.
"Sorry," she whispered. "It seemed rude not to invite him. I'm figuring long-term girlfriends do things like play hostess, right?"
"I wouldn't know," I said, tracing a hand up the tight sweep of her back. "I've never had a long-term girlfriend. You tell me."
Corsica blinked, her petal soft lips parted. "My last relationship was three months. Does that count?"
I shook my head. "Nothing less than a year. I figure we've been dating for at least a year and a half."
She chuckled, her firm breasts against my chest. "How do you figure that?"
"Because that's how much I want you." I tortured us both with a quick brush of a kiss. The heat from her lingered.
Corsica swatted my shoulder with a charming blush on her cheeks. Then, she slipped out of my arms and went up the front steps after my father. I could ignore him, but I couldn't tear my eyes off her. I felt sweat break out on my forehead at the way the sundress swayed and clung.
Corsica was like a fever, and there was only one cure. I had to sleep with her and get her out of my system.
"Goodnight, you two." My father hid his yawn behind a wolfish smile. "Make sure to get some sleep. Big day tomorrow."
I wondered what he meant, but the idea of having Corsica all to myself was frying my brain. "He's right. It's late, and we should head to bed."
She smiled and slipped down the hallway ahead of me. My hopes soared until she zipped into a guest room two doors down from my master suite.
I laid a flat hand on the door before she was able to shut it in my face. "What are you doing?" I asked. "We've been dating for over a year and half, remember?"
"Regardless," Corsica said with a snooty tip of her chin. "I am not in the habit of sleeping with strange men."
"I'll trim my beard," I offered.
She laughed. "Sorry, but I'm off the clock."
I shook my head and let her close the door. "All business with you. That's a bad habit you need to learn to break."
"Goodnight, Penn. Sleep tight," Corsica whispered.
Her breathy words teased me all the way down the hallway. "If I sleep at all," I muttered as I strode into my suite and left the door open. Just in case.
Despite my wild hopes, and even wilder fantasies, I was shocked as hell when Corsica leapt into my bed. At first, I was certain it was a dream. She was in nothing but a pair of pale pink, lacy underwear and a white tank top. Then, I realized soft sunlight was just touching the top of my bedroom windows.
"You weren't kidding; your father is an early riser," she squeaked. "I had to race down here while his back was turned. Good thing he couldn't find a coffee mug."
"What does it matter? You think he's going to check in on us? We're not in high school," I mumbled. Corsica slipped under the covers and inched towards me. I turned on my back and raised a knee to hide the obvious response my body was having.
"The coffee's for you. He made us both a mug," Corsica whispered. She slipped under my arm and pressed her body along my side. "Just pretend like I've been here all night."
"You wouldn't be wearing so many clothes," I said.
Her cheeks warmed with a blush, but she snuggled into the crook of my arm and feigned sleep. I wrapped my arm around her and ached. Corsica's body fit against me perfectly, every inch touching off an electric need for her.
"This was your mother's idea," my father called. He nudged the door open and stood with his eyes closed. "Is it safe to come in?"
"No," I said.
"Penn! Don't be rude," Corsica's voice was muffled as she wriggled closer to me. I didn't know if it was shyness or the spreading heat I felt from her, but I didn't complain.
My father strode in and set down the coffee mugs on my bedside table. Then, he produced an envelope from his pocket and handed it to me. "Like I said, this was your mother's day. All I want to say is happy birthday."
"Thanks," I managed, but Xavier was already heading for the door. He waved a hand over his shoulder.
"Is it really your birthday?" Corsica asked.
"Yes. I'm officially thirty."
She shifted against me, one leg rubbing across my thigh. "Really? I didn't know you were so old."
"Yup," I groaned. "I'm all grown up, and I know exactly what I want for my birthday."
I rolled Corsica onto her back and watched her eyes flash wide as she felt my need for her. Those lips of hers parted in a shocked cry as I leaned down for a kiss. She wriggled against me until she felt the resulting heat between us. I nibbled her delicious lips and prayed this wasn't all a dream.
"Your ride's here," my father called.
"Ride?" I lifted my head and then groaned as Corsica slipped out from under me.
She lifted the curtain and gave a surprised giggle. "Horses! There's a man unloading horses in the driveway."
Corsica bounced back onto the bed and grabbed the envelope my father had left. I took it from her and tore it open roughly. The passion she'd awoken was still throbbing through me, but I knew the moment had passed.
"It's an itinerary," I grumbled. "Horseback ride along the beach. Breakfast at the resort. Spa treatments and then dinner."
"How can you frown at that?" Corsica asked. "It sounds like a wonderful way to spend your birthday."
I groaned and sat up. "Normally, I spend my birthday out in the far canyons with a six-pack of beer."
Though even I had to admit later my mother had chosen well. Corsica was a natural on horseback, and the sight of her long legs in the saddle was a great gift. The morning was mild and sunny, the famous Monterey weather lending the whole morning a sweet warmth.
It wasn't until we sat at a private table on the resort's patio, overlooking Monterey Bay, that something else my mother said came back to me. What if Corsica was just a gold-digger?
Behind her, a tableful of tourists snapped discreet pictures of me. I was, after all, the founder and face of the top outdoor sports equipment company.
GoGreen's combination of sustainability, innovation, and focus on simplicity was a lethal business plan in an overblown industry. It didn't hurt that the outreach programs I headed made great headlines. It also didn't hurt that my company had just been listed as worth over one billion dollars.
How could Corsica not know who I was? I wondered.
Sure, she didn't look like the outdoorsy type. And I knew she had focused entirely on her studies while in college. Still, it seemed strange that she didn't realize I was Penn Templeton. Had she never heard of GoGreen? It was a national chain and still expanding.
The thought stuck with me, and I decided to turn down the spa treatments and see how Corsica reacted.
"It's such a nice day. Who wants to be stuck in a candlelit room?" she asked. "You know, I've never been on 17 Mile Drive. Want to go?"
I nodded to the blank-faced, professional driver my father had hired. He whisked us along the coast highway and into the curves that were dotted with stunning mansions and overlooks. Corsica was pressed to the window, ignoring the crashing sprays of the coastline and drooling over the showplace houses.
"Can you imagine people actually live in those?" Then she laughed out loud. "What am I saying? You live in a place like these, but can you imagine being able to pick one out and just buy it?"
"Is that what you want to be able to do?"
"That would be great," Corsica said.
"So, you're really just interested in the things that money can buy, like houses?"
She brushed her honeyed hair back and turned to look at me. "I grew up in a tiny, one-story box that people told me was a two-bedroom house. My window opened on the garage. The only thing my mother could see from her bed was the clothesline."
There was a flash of pain there that I hadn't expected. "Sorry, I just felt a little used."
"What?" Corsica's horrified shock was real.
I held up both hands to calm her. "I've been pursued before, not for my stunning good looks, but for my connection to Xavier Templeton," I explained.
Corsica relaxed against the leather car seat. "I do like the way he plays the piano," she said.
I laughed, relieved. "Most women see the fact that he is a multi-billionaire and then decide I'm attractive."
Her smile was sympathetic for a brief moment, and then it curled into a grin. "Yeah, I still haven't decided if you're attractive or not. Though, I like the trimmed beard."
I fingered the new, shorter shape of my beard. All I could think about was rubbing it against her bare, pearly skin. "So, it's my beard you're after, not just my connection to the very, very rich?"
Corsica laughed and swatted at my shoulder. "Sorry, but your mother is actually more of a draw."
"After she tortured you around the campfire?"
"It's been a while since I had a mother challenging my every thought. Alice is inspiring."
My heart knocked against my rib cage. "Why don't we stop here and get some fresh air? There's a great hidden beach just down there."
Corsica looked at the steep path as the driver swept into the next pull-out and parked. "Thank God I'm dressed for horseback riding and not brunch," she joked.
Despite her more sensible shoes, Corsica still slipped and shuffled on the rough dirt trail. On the last drop down to the beach, she let out a shriek and stumbled right into my arms. I caught her and wondered if birthday wishes really came true.
"Sorry," she giggled, her breasts pressed to my chest. "I didn't mean to scream and cause a scene."
"What scene? Hidden beaches are good for privacy."
She pushed back my nibbling kisses and pointed. "I think those people might know you," Corsica said.
I groaned and picked her up to swing her around while I swore at the intruders. Then, I realized the group walking down the beach really were people I knew. I lowered Corsica's feet to the ground and swallowed hard.
"Penn! Where did you disappear to? You missed our rock climbing gig," Phillip Tanner was the first to call out. "Are you wearing khakis?"
"We were horseback riding," I mumbled.
Phillip was shorter than me, but a stocky, solid mass of muscle. He knocked me aside and took Corsica's hand. "You got him on a horse? I'm impressed."
"Happy birthday, Penn, darling." As Phillip pulled Corsica aside, Alicia Watford entangled me in a hug.
The rail-thin heiress gave Corsica a flash of dislike and then made a big show of kissing my cheek. I turned from her attention and shook hands with Bill and Tamara. I had grown up with all four of them in San Francisco; the only difference was they still ran in the upper circles of society, while I preferred to hang out on the beach. If Phillip didn't share my passion for outdoor sports, I would never get over his preference for tailored shirts and expensive shoes.
Corsica smiled shyly, and I watched her perspective eyes take in the expensive clothes and jewelry of my friends. I was torn between wanting them to like her as much as I did and wanting to keep up the lie I had told Corsica. It still felt monumentally important that she be attracted and interested in me without knowing anything about my newly made fortunes.
"Sorry, this is Corsica," I stumbled over her last name.
"Corsica Allen. Nice to meet you," she jumped right in.
Alicia swept a critical eye over her. "Tourist?"
"I just finished my bachelor's degree in Santa Cruz," Corsica said. She shifted to stand at her full height, one inch over Alicia.
"Bachelor's degree, huh?" Phillip asked with a twinkle in his eye. "Looks like you might have this bachelor's number, and I hear that's harder than any college course."
"Very funny," I muttered. "What are you four doing wandering around down here?"
"I was scoping out a new descent I thought we might try," Phillip said. "Bill and Tamara were having a picnic, and I think Alicia just came along in the hopes that you'd show up."
"Come join our picnic," Tamara said. She led the way along the beach.
I waved Corsica ahead and grabbed Phillip's thick arm. "She doesn't know," I hissed.
"Doesn't know-"
"Shh! Corsica doesn't know about GoGreen or me," I explained.
Phillip gaped. "How is that possible?"
I filled him in as quickly as I could on my initial plan of using a human shield against my father. My friend could easily see the wisdom in that, seeing as his mother had been campaigning for years to marry him off. I had acted as a distraction for Phillip and entertained his mother on numerous occasions.
Up ahead of us, Corsica made Tamara laugh. Bill turned around and gave me a grinning thumbs up. They liked her. Alicia twisted her diamond earrings and frowned, but everyone else was warming up to Corsica.
"Sorry to hear about your mother, man," Phillip said. "I could have jumped in for you. Your father loves me and my stock portfolio."
"I know, I know. The whole thing's crazy. It's just that Corsica was there, and I didn't want her to leave."
Phillip stopped walking. "Whoa. Say that again please."
I stepped back, grabbed his arm, and hauled him along. "Don't turn into your mother and start seeing little cupid hearts everywhere. It's just, well, look at her."
"Oh, I know, I get it. She is hotter than hot, but she's also exactly the type of girl you swore off. No more perfect girls. Corsica's a total knockout, but I'm much more interested in you right now."
I ignored Phillip's probing stare and strode up to catch Corsica's elbow. "Actually, you'll have to excuse us. We have a dinner date, and there's not much time for us to go and change."
"We have plenty of food," Tamara offered.
"No, thanks. Good to see you all. We'll catch up soon." I tucked Corsica's arm in mine and tugged her down the beach as she waved goodbye.
"Are you sure you didn't want to stay?" Corsica kept up with my long strides. "I wouldn't think your friends would rat you out to your father. Except maybe Alicia. Did you two ever have a thing?"
"Alicia? No. Not at all. She's this big-time heiress, tons of money," I stopped myself from nervous babbling. "I just thought it'd be nice to have a quiet glass of wine and enjoy the view from my, I mean, Xavier's house before we go out to dinner."
"Sure thing, birthday boy," she said with a wink.
I watched Corsica walk up the front steps of my home and knew I did not want to go out to dinner. It was all I could do to tear my gaze away from her long legs as her hips swayed.
"I'm going to go freshen up and change," she said. "It was really fun meeting your friends on that beach, but my hair is a mess. Meet back here in ten?"
I nodded. If any other woman had quoted me ten minutes, I would have laughed, but Corsica's easy beauty made it believable. Despite every strange situation I had thrown her in, she still looked perfect.
Except that few seconds after a kiss. Her eyes were hazy then, like the sky on a hot, humid day. And I loved the look of her tousled hair. I almost called that out but stopped myself just in time.
Did I have no shame? I was acting like a teenage boy around here, and it was ridiculous. Growing up, I had had dozens of women in a wide range of ages throwing themselves at me for just a glimpse of my fortune. Then, I denounced all of that and found women attracted to my “bad boy” image. Now that I had both my image and my own fortune, I figured I should be irresistible.
Instead, Corsica seemed content with our business arrangement. She studied my lifestyle, the one she thought I was appropriating from Xavier, like it was out of a course book. I thought she hoped to reference back to these days as an anecdote to amuse and impress the future guests in her exclusive hotel.
I thought of Corsica in a hotel, stretched over crisp, white sheets, the traffic flow of some foreign city muffling our pleasures even with the windows wide open.
I didn't even glance towards my bedroom. I wasn't changing clothes, and we weren't going anywhere. Instead, I spun on my heel and dug through every decorative cabinet until I found a variety of candles and a book of matches. I just had time to put music on and lean down to light the fire when Corsica bounced back into the living room.
"I'm back to my little black dress, but, then again, I haven't seen you out of those khakis since we got to Monterey," she said.
"I'm fine taking them off if that's what you want." I grinned.
Corsica stopped. "This doesn't look like we're going to dinner."
I shook my head. "Nope. The birthday boy opted for some quiet time at home with his girlfriend."
She glanced over her shoulder. "But we're alone. You can stop pretending."
"Okay, I’ll stop pretending right now," I said. "Corsica, I want you. Ever since you bumped into me on the stairs in that dance club-"
"Oh, no, no, no," Corsica laughed. "You bumped into me, and this is far from our deal, Penn."
"Then, let's toss out the deal. It's over. Can we just have an evening, you and I? That's what I really want for my birthday."
Her eyes flared wide as I approached to take her hand. She resisted but finally joined me in front of the warm fire. The wind had picked up outside, and the waves crashed chilling sprays into the air. The droplets misted over the windows like rain.
"Don't you want to go out for dinner? Your boss was nice enough to make us that reservation," Corsica's eyes darted back and forth. "Or we could go meet up with your friends and celebrate."
I took her other hand. "Is it so hard to believe that all I want is to spend some time alone with you? We haven't had an unbroken minute together almost since I met you."
Corsica bit her lip. "Really? Why?"
I tugged her closer and lowered my lips to hers. "Because of this."
The kiss was electric, and I felt the current of it shake Corsica to the soles of her spindly high heels. The shocking need for her short-circuited my brain and my arms wrapped around her waist. We stumbled, and I turned so that when we tripped towards the couch, I broke her fall.
"You did that on purpose," she said with a smile. "Careful or you'll mess up my hair."
"That's exactly what I intend to do," I murmured and tangled my hands in those soft, honey-colored waves.
This time, Corsica did not resist. She lowered her smile to mine, and I felt the electricity bolt through both of us again.
I wondered if she still thought of me as a “bad boy.” I certainly liked disrupting her good-girl image. With that thought in mind, I slipped one thin strap off her shoulder.
Corsica pushed back again. "Penn," she muttered.
"Can't I have my birthday wish?" I asked, peppering her hesitant mouth with kisses. "I can't get you out of my mind. I need you."
She frowned and pushed up to sitting. Corsica smoothed down her hair, but I caught her hand before she could tug her dress strap back into place.
"We can go in my bedroom if you're worried about someone seeing us here," I said.
Corsica blinked and shook her head. Her frown deepened. "Penn, what is that?"
I twisted to see what she was studying, and my stomach clenched. Behind me on the end table was a framed photograph of me with both of my parents. I was young, maybe fourteen, and without my beard and tattoos; I looked exactly like my father. Xavier stood behind me, one hand on my shoulder, his other arm tight around Alice's waist.
"I can explain," I said, sitting up.
"No," Corsica gave a humorless laugh. "I probably should have seen it earlier, but I was, I don't know, waiting to get to know you better. I really wanted an evening with just you, too."
"Then, let's do that."
She held up both hands. "So, the only reason you don't have any money is because you won't forgive your father?"
I gaped as Corsica stood up. "What?"
She tossed her hair. "It makes sense. I mean, it matches this whole image you've got going. You're the penniless black sheep. You had some big fight with Xavier, and he wants to make amends, but you won't let him."
"It's not so easy to forgive him," I grumbled.
"So what if it's not easy? What if it's the right thing to do?" Corsica put her hands on her hips and then threw them in the air. "Stubborn is not an attractive quality. Happy birthday, Penn. I hope you grow up."
I stood, but I couldn’t stop her. The words couldn't get past the lump in my throat. She finally saw exactly the image I wanted to project, and it left me feeling hollow. What I really wished for was that Corsica could know all of me.