10
Tack
She avoided me again. After the morning pitches, where I took note of her absence, I went to the beach to snorkel. A dip in the ocean would calm me, or so I thought, until Abby rushed me at the water’s edge. I figured some paparazzi were hiding in the bushes, with her public display of affection. She wanted the cameras to catch us. I, however, did not. While I was convinced Juliet wouldn’t read a society page, a quick search of the internet would provide numerous images of Abby and me. After Juliet’s anger, I sensed she wouldn’t understand the relationship. We were friends. It was the other girls that worried her.
I hadn’t been an angel. My dick had dipped where it shouldn’t have after one too many drinks or a frustrating evening of self-doubt about Juliet’s true feelings. I wasn’t excusing myself, just admitting my weakness. Juliet could add it to my list of guilts. The tension stood sharply between us when I entered her room last night. While I thought she’d forgiven me of my past indiscretion with her, thought she’d understood what happened in our original encounter, the memory had not been forgotten. It didn’t help that I threatened her, and then the Mouse I knew returned.
Her eyes flamed. Her nostrils flared. She yelled at me.
The bite of her tongue only spurred me on. I’d wanted her even more than before, and I wanted to act on it. Almost. But I couldn’t be like that with her. I wanted so much more, and she had me pegged. I wanted her permission.
I sighed in frustration as I prepared for another night of seeing her in a crowded room. Dinner was scheduled this evening in the Spanish restaurant at the resort. Local fare and the daily catch were on the menu. No rice. She’d caught me. Abby’s eyes narrowed at me as well, as I’d lied, said I didn’t know Juliet, and then mentioned the damn rice. Juliet told me about a maggot experience on the island, and how it soured her palate for rice. She seemed startled I’d remember such a small detail, but I remembered everything.
I crossed the relatively empty bar, as it was before the dinner hour. Miller was seated at it, watching some news report, and checking his phone.
“Who are you to her again?” I mockingly demanded as I walked up behind him. I was aware he was her business partner. She said he was her best friend. He’d done an excellent presentation on their financial standings, their future goals and their needs. But I hadn’t been able to ask him what I really wanted to know during the meeting with the other committee members present. I wanted to know if he fucked her. He demanded to share a room with her, but I couldn’t figure out their relationship. I suspected his sexual orientation, but that didn’t mean he didn’t dabble both ways, and I knew Juliet had a pension for curiosity. The conversation about domination and submission was a distant memory.
“Miller James, that’s who,” he smirked, tweaking an eyebrow. Was he trying to be funny?
“What are you to her?” I snarled. He spanked the back of my hand as I fisted his tie.
“Don’t grab the Gucci.”
“You’re gay,” I blurted, direct enough to want confirmation.
“Well, duh,” he replied.
“Does she know?” I idiotically asked.
“Of course,” he snapped, struggling to remove my hand from his tie, but I wasn’t done yet.
“Have you fucked her?”
“I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that,” he snapped, his anger answering my question. He hadn’t.
“Then why you?” It didn’t make sense.
“Because I’m safe.” His eyes roamed downward to my hand near his throat. Instantly, I released him, smoothing down the skewed tie.
“Does she need saving?”
“No,” he scoffed. “She’s the strongest woman I know.”
I sighed in frustration. “Is it men? Are men constantly hitting on her?” Juliet was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. While she looked different last night with a touch of make-up and lighter hair, I knew what she looked like without all the fuss. She was breathtaking.
Miller snorted. “No. She’s too blind to notice her appeal.”
“Blind?”
“She doesn’t see them.” His eyes shifted down to his phone.
“Why not?”
He spun in his seat to fully face me.
“Oh, I don’t know, maybe a broken heart in the past.” One brow tweaked upward again. “She’s good at holding up a shield.”
“She’s broken,” I whispered, my heart clenching with the thought.
“Certainly, you aren’t that blind,” he sarcastically sneered. I glared back at him.
“Brenda, call the front desk. Get Miller James a new room,” I said to the bartender behind the bar.
“What? Why?” he snapped, tiny eyes narrowing on me like he wanted to chew me alive. We stared at one another, an understanding ensuing between us.
“Surely, you aren’t blind, either.”
“If you hurt her again, you’ll feel my wrath,” he threatened, his voice a touch too feminine to take seriously.
“Why do I sense you might like that?” I smiled sheepishly, noting this man was no threat.
“Get over yourself, millionaire.” Miller turned back to his phone.
“I’m not going to harm her. I’d never touch her unless she let me.” He stopped texting, and the hesitation informed me he knew all the details of our past. “It will never happen again,” I added, lowering my voice. Never again, because she was going to let me in. She had to.