Chapter 34

I had been watching her since she strolled out of the house, wrapped in a towel, headed to the beach. At first, I just wanted to make sure she was safe, but when that towel came off, I lost any sense of pride or decency. I couldn't take my eyes off her.

It was obvious that Amelia was an attractive woman, but my god. My dick thickened up immediately when I saw that pink bikini, her round breasts slightly overfilling the top, her defined stomach, and that ass. That round, tight ass in a thong bottom, separating those defined butt cheeks I wanted to lick, bite, possess.

I didn't think Dolores realized what kind of bathing suit her daughter had snuck into that luggage she so proudly brought to Amelia when she showed up here. I would have to give Andrea a great Christmas gift for this favor.

Amelia was finally out of the water after swimming laps for an hour and doing some sort of exfoliation by rubbing sand over her skin. I knew she swam for fun. After all, I'd had to get files on everyone that was close to Richard, but this was my first time seeing her. She seemed in her element, even if I held my breath every time she went under the waves.

She was walking toward me now, her peaceful expression tensing as she saw me standing under the pergola. I had no shame. My eyes roamed every inch of her body, the fire in my stomach intensifying with each sexy little step she took, her wet skin glistening under the sun, her breathing a bit accelerated. She fixed her bra a bit, to no avail.

"Good morning," I said, never taking my eyes off her and slowly, indecently making my way to her face.

"Good morning," she replied when she got to me, grabbing the towel she had left here neatly folded and wrapping it around herself.

Ignoring me, she sat on one of the long chairs, drying her long brown curls. I knew I should be more discreet, but I was staring at her, imagining how she would look with those now wavy curls wrapped around my wrist.

The things I wanted to do to her…

On the table between us was some champagne and orange juice in a pitcher that I had brought to us so it would be ready when she came out of the water. I walked to the drinks and poured a mimosa, handing it to her. She grabbed it but avoided any eye contact with me.

"Thanks," she muttered, her well-mannered behavior stronger than whatever hatred she felt for me.

"You're welcome."

I sat on the long chair across from her, looking at the ocean. I had a whole speech prepared, but I was rendered silent, focusing on the now wrathful waves of the ocean instead, swarming just like the turmoil inside me, of being so close to her but feeling so far.

I took a big sip of my drink to try to calm down, but I couldn't help and look to my side to see her.

She was enjoying the beach view. She looked very pensive and a bit sad. The wind was blowing her wet, curly hair around. Her gaze slowly met mine, her eyes now perusing my naked chest, all the way down to my raging boner. She bit her lip, her gaze going back to my chest and my arms. I had never been more thankful for staying fit. Her lips parted ever so slightly as her breath quickened.

I felt my heart race when her eyes met mine, burning raw desire emanating from her every pore. Every muscle of my body was tense, urging me to jump on her and make her mine. She held a gasp when she realized I was now looking at her, my eyes burning.

Amelia quickly got up. Before she could leave, I grabbed her arm, turning her to face me.

"Amelia, you have to know…Elena, she means nothing to me. She's just a good friend. I told you this already. We made a mistake, both overtaken by our sorrow, but that was it. We are just friends."

She shook her head, her beautiful lips thin.

"I don't know if I can believe you," she admitted.

"I know. I get it. Amelia, I didn't plan for this. I didn't know I was going to meet you—not like this. There are many things I regret doing, many things I wouldn't have done if I knew how my life was going to turn out—if I knew you."

She shook her head with force and backed away from me. I took a step toward her, but I stopped myself, turning my hands into fists instead. As much as I was hurting, I needed to give her space, to give her time, even if we were running out of it.

She turned around and walked fast toward the house.

I sat back down on the chair, running my fingers through my hair, holding my face in my hands with my eyes closed. How had things gotten so fucking complicated so fast?

To think that, at the beginning, when I came up with the plan to befriend Richard, my first thought was to seduce Amelia, the daughter I had heard so much about in my investigations. She was his pearl—or so I thought.

She was a young, beautiful, twenty-seven-year-old woman, and I was a thirty-four-year-old man who knew the effect I had on women. It wouldn't have been hard. But she was in a fairytale relationship with Richard's pet, George, and I understood from Richard that they were to wed. I figured that avenue was closed, as Richard wouldn't take kindly to me messing up his plans. She ended up in my home anyway, in my arms, ruining every plan I had laid out for myself, becoming my center, my core. And I didn't know how to get her to see me, to trust me. But I would try it all. Defeat was not an option.