Prologue

 

The leathery-skinned guard manning the little white booth behind the elaborate black iron gates looked from me, to my license, and back again with far more scrutiny than I think the situation warranted. His bushy grey and black brows furrowed as he spoke softly into the microphone strapped to the shoulder of his uniform. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but it was in Spanish, and he was kind of creeping me out. Usually, the booths at gated communities were manned by lazy rent-a-cops, but this guy reminded me more of someone you’d see guarding a military base. He was one hundred percent no-bullshit and obviously regarded me as someone unworthy to pass through the flowering desert cactus lined gates.

“I look different with my hair down,” I smiled at the guard holding up my license and comparing it to me, trying to appear harmless.

Ignoring me, he looked down at something inside the booth and spoke into his mic while shooting me a quick glance. I forced what I hoped was a sweet smile, and he grimaced in return. Okay, maybe trying to look sweet when I was inwardly fuming wasn’t the best idea. I’d had a couple hours to stew over the injustice of this situation during the drive from Phoenix to Sedona, and my already hot temper was at a slow boil.

If there was one thing I hated, it was being taken advantage of.

He slid the window between us shut while still holding my license. I was tempted to bang on the glass and yell at him to let me through, but that probably wasn’t the best way to handle this situation. My twenty-year-old silver Honda Civic—one year younger than me—gave a hard rattle and my gaze darted to the dashboard. I wondered, again, if taking a car with over two-hundred thousand miles for a drive through the desert was such a great idea. Without looking away from the guard shack and the guy still examining my ID, I gave the sun-bleached dash a little pat, mentally encouraging my ride to keep on chugging.

Normally I didn’t drive outside the greater Phoenix area, other than to go back home to Tucson, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Finally, the window slid open again. The uniformed guard leaned out, handing me my ID back with an impassive expression. “Thank you for your patience, Ms. Holtz. If you’ll follow the drive up to the main house, Mrs. Roja is expecting you. Just park out front.”

I gave him a toothy smile with no warmth. “Thanks.”

As the mammoth wrought iron gates smoothly slid open, I put my car into gear and eased up the long, winding asphalt drive that led to a massive Mediterranean style home perched on the edge of a big hill, dominating the red stone landscape. The entire property was gorgeous and well maintained, like celebrity homes you’d see on TV.

I knew Jacob’s family had money, but not this kind of money.

Growing up in wealth like this would certainly explain his ‘entitled little shit’ behavior.

The nervous clench of my stomach increased. I was sure that, if I touched my abs, I’d find them rock hard with tension, something they never were. Nope, I was a curvy girl, about thirty pounds over my ‘ideal weight’ as my doctor liked to put it, and soft all over. It wasn’t that I was lazy and sat around eating crap all day. I was pretty active and tried not to pig out too much, but my body held onto those extra thirty pounds like my life depended on it. No amount of dieting seemed to make a difference. Thankfully, most of that weight was distributed between my breasts and ass. But my belly always had a pooch, no matter how many salads I ate, and the last time my thighs didn’t touch when I walked was when I was ten.

The landscaping was beautiful, all done to compliment the desert surrounding the driveway, with big cactuses and flowering succulents brightening the red rock boulders surrounding the house. Overhead, the clear sky burned an impossibly bright blue and I was thankful the weather seemed to be at lease twenty degrees cooler here. Back home in Phoenix, I baked anytime I was outside and longed for the days when I had nothing better to do than hang out in my parent’s backyard and swim in our small, aboveground pool.

What I wouldn’t give for a dip right now—but, no, my moral compass demanded I address injustice immediately. Instead of sleeping in on Saturday morning, like any sane person with my busy schedule would, I decided to get up at the butt crack of dawn and drive my ass north. I had to be crazy if I was willing to sacrifice the one day I had to myself and waste thirty dollars in gas for the trip, all because some punk ass little spoiled rich kid lied to me.

Repeatedly.

To my face.

Mother fucker.

My palms were sweaty as all hell beneath the bright morning sun. I felt completely out of place surrounded by such luxury, but I put some steel into my spine as I parked behind a black Range Rover with sweet matte black rims and tinted windows.

Money, something I desperately needed and this family had in abundance.

Money that they owed me or, more specifically, what that little fucktard Jacob owed me for tutoring services.

Doubt tried to worm its way into my head, telling me that maybe driving up here unannounced wasn’t the best idea, but I was out of options. Jacob had skipped our last three sessions. If he didn’t show up, I only got paid twenty percent of what I would have earned. I knew he was trouble as soon as I was assigned to him—another spoiled pretty boy who didn’t give a damn about academics, because Mommy and Daddy paid for everything. He drove a BMW, wore fancy clothes, and I’m sure his designer sunglasses were worth more than my car, but that didn’t mean he got to blow me off.

Repeatedly.

Worse yet, he played me. I have a kind nature—it’s who I am, and I try to give people the benefit of the doubt. I like helping people and taking care of them. I pride myself on trying to give everyone a chance and trying not to stereotype. Who knows? Jacob could have been going through some serious shit, like a death in the family or something. So I gave him the benefit of the doubt, and he played me but good.

When Jacob first gave me a sob story about being sick, I believed him and emailed him a study guide then coached him through it. The second time, he allegedly got food poisoning, and once again I took time I didn’t have to spare to try and help him pass his class. Stupid me, he probably didn’t even glance at the study guides I spent so much time putting together. His shitty grades certainly didn’t reflect a person who’d reviewed the material I carefully compiled for him.

This last time, he swore up and down that he’d be there, that I didn’t have to worry, that I had his word. Yet, at 7 pm on a Thursday night, I sat in Arizona State’s library waiting…and waiting, and waiting for his ass. Finally, at nine, I gave up and went home, but I was pissed. Really pissed. When I get pissed, I do something about it. But this morning, when I arrived at his frat house, ready to ream him a new one, they told me Jacob went home to Sedona for the weekend. Instead of waiting until he came back on Monday—like any normal and well-balanced person—I pulled up his personal file, got his home address, then hopped on the freeway and drove, fuming the whole time.

If Jacob didn’t give a shit about failing out of college, maybe his parents would make him care.

My door creaked as I opened it, the hot breeze instantly drying the nervous sweat that had beaded my nose as I tried to look poised and professional, not the easiest thing to do when you’re built like a chubby porn star.

I hit puberty early at eleven, grew quickly into a full double D cup, and since then, my breasts had been the bane of my existence. First, they drew the attention of any tit man who happened to be in my immediate area—and the vast majority of them saw nothing wrong with staring at some strange woman’s chest, even if she was just a teenager. Second, it was hard to dress with an hourglass figure in a world that seemed to cater to women without curves. Shirts never fit right, because my breast to waist ratio was on the extreme side. They were either fitted on top and super loose around my waist, or fitted around my waist with my bewbs about to bust out. Third, some people looked at my body and instantly assumed I was a slut or a bimbo. Having naturally curly dark blonde hair, blue eyes, and dimples didn’t help people take me seriously, nor did the fact that I was only 5’3”. People liked to judge, so when they looked at me, their first impression was rarely flattering.

The world isn’t kind to people who didn’t fit society’s narrow stereotypes about how a person should look. Fortunately, I had a strong mother who equipped me well for dealing with a world full of assholes. And my evil bitch older sister had flayed my soul alive with her foul words when we were teenagers, so it took a lot to piss me off. Going through the hell my sister had put me through, and coming out the other side alive, gave me the strength to pull myself together and not chicken out.

I’m a big girl. I can be professional, and I can do this.

I smoothed the black blazer I wore over the coffee brown silk shirt, resisting the need to check my hair. As usual, when I was trying to look like a grown up, I had my mass of hair pulled back into a tight, high bun and wore more makeup than usual. For a moment, I considered grabbing my briefcase. It was like a safety blanket for me, a visible icon that said I was a serious businesswoman, but thought it might be overkill for this situation. I was simply going to ask Mr. and Mrs. Roja to please make sure their offspring showed up to his tutoring sessions…otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to afford my books next semester.

Well, I probably shouldn’t mention my tale of financial woe to people with a three-story mansion, but I was out of options.

Wide, grey and white marble steps led up to the dark maroon painted front door of the house. Beautiful cut glass inserts flanked the entrance on either side, and potted flowers added a touch of color.

I pressed the button for the doorbell, mentally berating myself for the crappy condition of my nails with half the pink polish worn off.

When no one answered, I rang again, wondering if anyone was home, or if it just took twenty minutes to walk from one end of the massive place to the other.

I was just getting ready to ring a third time when the door opened with a rush. My breath caught as I took in the man standing before me. Probably in his late twenties, I swear he was the sexiest and most dangerous man I’d ever seen, but the sneer curving his beautiful, full lips wasn’t exactly welcoming.

When I glanced up, I caught a glimpse of his eyes—gorgeous dark brown, flecked with amber and green, highlighted by his cinnamon brown skin. He studied me with a cold detachment that made me want to shrink into myself, those intense eyes framed by wide cheekbones and well-arched brows. His dark black hair, long enough that it swept over his forehead, almost covered his eyes as he cocked his head to examine me. I allowed myself a quick darting look down his body, taking in the wide shoulders hidden behind his black, button up shirt, the thick chest, and powerful arms all tapering down to a trim waist. His black dress slacks fit him perfectly and, as he leaned against the doorframe with a bored expression, his gold watch flashed in the sunlight. A hint of a tattoo on the side of his neck peeked through, and I could see the shadowy suggestion of more ink on his wrists that trailed down to the back of his left hand in the form of a stylized climbing rose vine.

Across his square jaw, he had a thick, dark shadow that only grown men got when they haven’t shaved in a few days.

Damn, he was sexy, dangerous catnip to any woman with a single working hormone in her body.

Then he totally ruined my pervy fantasy by opening his mouth. “What do you want?”

His lightly accented, harsh tone and arrogant, disgusted expression snapped me out of my admiration. “I need to speak with Jacob, please.”

“He’s busy. You can talk to me.”

I gritted my teeth but forced my hands to remain relaxed at my sides. “Fine then, Mr.…?”

“My name is none of your fucking business.”

I jerked back. “Excuse me?”

He gestured to the drive behind me, his gold watch reflecting the light. “Look, bitch, whatever you’re selling out of your piece of shit car, we ain’t buying.”

“What? No, I’m here about Jacob. I’m not selling anything. He owes me money.”

His pretty upper lip curled in obvious distaste as he scanned me up and down, his eyes lingering on my breasts for a little too long before he sneered. “Let me guess, he knocked you up? You need money for an abortion?”

“I—pardon me?”

His Latin accent thickened as he crossed his muscled forearms over his broad chest, the gold and diamond watch on his wrist catching my attention again with its sparkles. “Whatever bullshit you had in mind coming here, you can forget it now. He’s never gonna be your baby daddy, so I don’t know what strip club or escort service—”

“Escort service! Did you just call me a whore?”

“I see how you’re eyeing my watch, trying to figure out how much money you can get from it. But you can forget that shit, because I would never touch a puta like you.”

My hands clenched down painfully into fists and I took a step forward, crowding him in the doorway and catching a hint of alcohol on his breath. Great, I get to deal with a drunk asshole. Why me? Seriously, what did I do to piss off karma to deserve this?

Gathering myself, I hissed out, “I’m not a stripper, you arrogant fuck. I’m short and I wear heels to come even close to looking people in the eye. I’m Jacob’s tutor! Not his ‘baby mama’ or a whore, thank you very much.”

His snort of derision made me see red. “Right, tutor? With those tits? Get back in your car, trailer park Barbie, and drive away, before I make you leave. You’re not the first gold digging stripper to show up claiming he’s the baby’s daddy.”

“I am not a stripper!”

He took out his wallet with a sigh, pulled out a few one hundred dollar bills, then tossed them at me. They fluttered to the ground between our feet. “There, that should cover his lap dances. Now, get the fuck out.”

As I stared at the money laying on the glowing wood floor between our shoes, something inside of me snapped.

I don’t think I’ve been so mad in my entire life. He actually took a step back when I moved into his personal space then grabbed the front of his shirt to keep him from backing up further as I stared up—way up—at him. “I don’t know what kind of messed up, misogynistic world you live in, but a woman’s breast size has nothing to do with the size of her brain. I am not a fucking stripper! I am Jacob’s tutor at ASU, an honor student working on eventually getting my PHD in education. Jacob hasn’t been showing up to his appointments for the last three weeks! He promised me he would be there, and he broke his word. Now, I need to speak to Jacob, and I need to do it right fucking now, or so help me…” I trailed off for a moment, not sure what his name was, then went with my initial pet name, “You arrogant dick, I will make you regret the day you were born.”

“Too late,” he said in a bitter voice, but something in his eyes sparked to life. The sneer curving his rather nice lips softened. Hell, his entire face warmed in a way that made me distinctly uncomfortable. “Do I know you?”

I wanted to look around to see if I was on one of those prank shows with the hidden cameras.

“What?”

His pupils widened as he slowly examined my face, that disconcerting warmth turning to full on heat. “Do I know you? You seem…familiar.”

“Are you high?”

“Excuse me.” A woman’s husky voice came from my left. “I’m Mrs. Roja, and who might you be? And why are you roughing up my nephew?”

I turned to see an older Hispanic woman with long black and grey streaked hair standing at the base of the stairs. Her cheeks were nicely rounded, which should have given her a kind old woman look, but her gaze was pure ice. A flush burned my cheeks as I realized I was still holding onto the arrogant asshole’s shirt, which I quickly released and then smoothed into place. As I did that, I realized the man’s heart was thundering beneath my palm, and that his skin was warm, so warm. Mrs. Roja cleared her throat, and I snatched my hand away from his chest, feeling guilty like I was caught groping him instead of trying to fix the damage I’d done to his pristine look.

“Ah…uh, I’m sorry. My name is Joy Holtz, and I’m Jacob’s math tutor at ASU.” I cleared my throat then licked my lips, trying to gather myself after my temper tantrum. “He hasn’t shown up to his tutoring appointments for the last two weeks, despite his promises to do so. Normally I wouldn’t bother you with this, but I don’t get paid if he doesn’t show up and…well, I need the money for tuition next semester. He’s missed three sessions. I could have used that time to tutor other clients, but each time Jacob swears he’ll be there, then he isn’t. I’ve tried to hold him accountable for this, but he’s avoided me at every turn, which left me no alternative but to come here. I’m so sorry for interrupting your day, but this is important. Not just for me, but for Jacob. He’s going to fail out of school, and I’d hate to see that happen to anyone, but he’s going to leave me no choice but to report him to the school.”

Her lips thinned, and I swallowed hard at the anger filling her deep brown eyes. “No, I completely understand. I’m so embarrassed you’ve had to take time from your no doubt busy schedule to come here. I know who you are, Ms. Holtz. You were highly recommended by the Dean of the Education Department. I was hoping you could perform a miracle with Jacob and get his academic affairs in order.”

I couldn’t help but glow a bit about the words of praise from my usually prickly boss. “Thank you, but I’m afraid it’s going to take a miracle for Jacob to pass at this point, unless he really applies himself.”

“Oh,” Mrs. Roja said in an ominous voice that made me faintly alarmed for Jacob, “that won’t be an issue. I’ll be having a talk with my son about responsibility, and I assure you he will be most eager to do whatever you wish. You have my word.”

I let out a mental sigh of relief. “Thank you.”

“Ramón,” she snapped. I darted a glance at the handsome, brooding man now staring at me in a rather disconcerting manner. “Pick up that money. This poor young woman is going to think all the men in this family are ill-mannered animals. Dios, wait until I tell your mother about this.”

I gave Ramón a good glare as he picked up the money he’d thrown at me, then mouthed the word ‘asshole’ at him.

Instead of looking pissed or embarrassed, he smiled at me suddenly in weird way that made the hair on the back of my neck want to stand up. His entire face softened, and I swear his dark eyes were near dancing with laughter. When his gaze dropped to my lips, my stomach filled with a thousand tingling, bursting bubbles. Something…powerful passed between us as he stood and gave me a long, slow look. Before I could protest, he crossed the room and took my hand gently in his own.

The moment our skin touched, a riot of pleasant tingles raced through me. I found my breath picking up. This close, I could smell his sinfully spicy cologne, could admire the perfectly sculpted bow of his upper lip. He had a great mouth, almost pouty, the kind that reminded me of stars from the silent movie era. I bet those lips would feel like velvet against my own. Soft as pillows.

“Please, Joy,” he said in a low voice that seemed to flick my clit. “Accept my apologies. I—well, there is no excuse for the way I treated you. I was an ass. You can smack me if you want. I know if my mother was here, she’d be whacking the back of my head right now for being such a—what did you call me? Ah, yes, an arrogant dick, wasn’t it?”

“No biggie. I mean you aren’t the first guy who looked at me and assumed I was a whore.” My voice came out sounding like I gargled with glass as he continued to hold my hand, my brain short circuiting as I tried to do something other than think about how hot he was, how sparks seemed to flare across my skin at the simple caress of his thumb.

He flinched like I’d hit him in the gut, then gently squeezed my hand before dropping it. “I normally have much better manners than this. Life has been…not good, and I haven’t been sleeping much, but that’s no excuse for the way I treated you.”

“Really, it’s okay.”

“Ramón,” Mrs. Roja interrupted him. “Why don’t you join us after you find Jacob? You can give Ms. Holtz a tour of the grounds to make up for your earlier behavior. Or maybe you could take her out for dinner before she has to drive back.”

Just like that, he went cold, as if someone had thrown a bucket of ice water on his emotions. “Nah, I gotta run.”

Mrs. Roja looked between myself and her nephew, her hands clasping together as concern tightened her brow. “Are you sure?”

He replied in Spanish, obviously assuming because of the blonde hair and blue eyes I had no idea what he was saying. “Don’t push me. You know I can’t go there, especially with someone like her.”

Stung, I tried to pretend I didn’t comprehend his hurtful words as Mrs. Roja replied, “But she’s sweet, Ramón, and—”

“I said no,” he snapped, but I swear he looked at me for a moment with a longing so intense it made my breath catch. “No.”

I pretended to be confused by their exchange as Ramón strode away and Mrs. Roja forced a smile. “I’m so sorry about that. We suffered a loss in the family. My great-nephew passed away, and Ramón loved him very much. He’s very protective of his family and tends to assume the worst in people.”

“It’s okay,” I fibbed, my pride and feelings still stung by Ramón’s harsh words. “I’m very sorry for your loss. Maybe that’s why Jacob’s having some issues in school. If you want, I can check around for a good therapist at school, if he wants.”

 “You are very kind,” Mrs. Roja said with a thoughtful look. “Come with me, Ms. Holtz and have some coffee. I’d like to talk with you more about your work at ASU while we wait for Jacob to arrive.”