Chapter 17

CHAPTER 17

V alerio

Play hard, work harder.

That had been my father's motto for as long as I could remember and he had made good on his statement, much to the chagrin of my mother. She'd put up with his brutal hours, even looking the other way when she knew he was out with another woman. However, his heart attack had nearly broken her. I'd never seen her so upset or in love as I had while she was fawning over him in the hospital.

But he was a man fueled by greed, the hunger for power taking over everything in his life. It had changed him, altering any sense of humanity or goodness. Sadly, I knew the darkness festering inside meant I was just like him. But something happened that surprised even me.

I'd heard a near death experience could change even the worst of men. I would never have believed it until witnessing that experience. He'd left the hospital fifteen pounds lighter, a pacemaker installed and one changed man. I'd say he'd found religion, but hell would need to freeze over first for that to happen.

However, he cut all ties with the on again-off again women he'd been involved with, becoming more infatuated with his own wife than I'd believed possible. Maybe that's why I'd always felt strangled by the concept of entering into an actual relationship.

Not that I was thinking what Selena and I already shared could be anything but a fiery competition. I was a damn good judge of character and even considering doing something more formal or risky for that matter would spell disaster with a capital D.

While it was my father's desire, I was holding court on my decision at this point. There was that nagging suspicion she was truly the enemy, using her feminine wiles to pull me into whatever toxic relationship we were experiencing. I'd need to tread carefully. Even if I considered myself a damn good judge of character, women were truly magical in their ways of seduction.

However, toying with her every step of the way was definitely in my wheelhouse. It would seem she was more than a willing and formidable opponent in a heated game of winner takes all. Although I wasn't certain at this point what the ‘all' stood for.

I vacillated between trying to ignore the fact something ominous was going on with my father and thinking that he was simply getting back to his more ruthless roots. I should crave doing nothing but ripping apart what would be a limited hold on her father's empire, but I found myself far too absorbed in her lusciousness.

As we'd neared the island, Selena leaned over, the warm glow of sunshine on her face accentuating the shimmer.

I leaned forward, unable to help myself as I sniffed her hair. She'd used strawberry shower gel or shampoo that morning. A favorite fragrance of mine on beautiful women.

"Are you one of those weirdos with twisted fetishes?" she mused, almost immediately unsnapping her seatbelt.

"I might have a few."

"Please don't tell me you're into feet or I might vomit a little in my mouth." After she threw out the nasty comment, which she'd refrained from for the majority of the flight, the plane lurched forward from turbulence.

And luckily for me, tossed her smack onto my lap.

Boom.

Crash.

Moan. Her moan to be exact.

Instantly, my cock stood at full attention. I knew she felt it by the way her eyes opened wide. I expected her to bolt even as I wrapped my arm around her, but to her credit, she didn't.

"Be careful there, cupcake. The turbulence rolling into the airport can be brutal."

"Oh, darling masked cowboy," she said as she raked her nail down my cheek. "I can handle brutal and so much more." It was her turn to try to take control, capturing my lips. She exuded passion in every action and I was suddenly craving a cupcake, which was ridiculous. But this kiss was entirely different.

The woman was drawing a line in the sand.

Still, I was the kind of man who took advantage of every positive situation. This being one of them. I yanked her down until she was almost lying in my lap, controlling her mouth and her tongue. She still had a lingering taste of strawberries and champagne along with a hint of the brie cheese she'd eaten most recently.

I'd hoped she would acquiesce by trying to push me away but with every game, when the players learned the rules, the heat was turned up. This was no exception.

For two people who'd engaged in the most incredible round of sex possible, this was more intimate, more explosive. I could do nothing but kiss her for hours.

Wow. It would seem the feisty frosting girl had a little magic hold over me.

By the time I broke it enough to pull her bottom lip between my teeth, the plane had already touched down.

We were both breathing raggedly and she curled her fingers around my shirt, fingering the space between two buttons, I almost lost control.

Soon, but not here. Not now.

I wanted the woman all to myself and on my terms.

"It looks like we've landed," she mused.

"Yes. Are you ready for an adventure?"

"Bring it on, baby. I'm ready for anything."

Famous last words.

And ones I planned on using against her time and time again.

As I drove past the main resort, Selena lifted her sunglasses, staring at the large and very posh facility. My brothers and I had spared no expense in hiring the right designers for our vision, both landscape and building experts, to provide the most opulent tropical lifestyle possible. While the outside was stunning even in my mind, the interior was decadent. And the dungeon areas? Spectacular.

"What do you think? Impressed?" I asked, amused she even stood so she could lean out of the open Jeep.

She sat down with a hard thud, readjusting her sunglasses again. She shrugged as if the stunning forty-foot fountain with its cooling spray hadn't grabbed her attention.

"Eh, I've stayed at nicer ones."

"Oh, I'd love to get a list of them. I always make certain I visit at least one resort a year my brothers and I consider competition. You know. To compare notes."

Selena faked a yawn. "We'll see. So where are we going now?"

"Our bungalow."

That caught me a harsh look. "Think again, buddy. I'm not staying in the same room with you."

"Don't worry, sunshine. You'll have your own suite. Just so you know, I have a little place right on the beach. I should say it's a family abode. And don't worry. My brothers are locked down back in California."

"Oh? You and your brothers don't come here together?"

"Not as often as we did in the beginning when this place was nothing but jungle and a gorgeous beach. Then we spent significant time together. We were lucky we didn't kill each other."

"You stayed here when there was nothing resembling civilization."

"Why does that shock you? We camped for days at a time, marking off this property in particular. We had the best time we'd had in years just eating off the land, fishing. It was amazing."

I could tell I had shocked her.

"Wow. I would have thought you too much of a playboy, the kind of man who needed servants at all hands. You know, the ‘don't get your hands dirty' type."

"Didn't anyone ever tell you don't judge a book by its cover?"

"Yes, but often it's easy to tell what a person is like by the smarmy meter."

"Smarmy meter?" I rounded the bend and slowed down, allowing her to take in the view. "Gorgeous. Eh?"

"Yes, it is and it's a gauge my friends and I use when we meet men."

"Hmm. What does that include?"

"Well, clothes. Aftershave. Shoes. A telling statement of a man. His watch. His swagger. His car."

"So, you and your friends are looking for rich men?"

She laughed with that lilt that could drive me crazy. "Hasn't anyone ever told you that money isn't everything? No, we're looking for a friend, a lover. Someone we can grow old with."

"Uh-huh."

"That's what we say. We've learned that sadly, the perfect guy doesn't exist," she mused but smiled as the bungalow came into view. With there being two main portions of the house, one sitting on stilts in the water, the other being on land, the location offered the best of everything anyone could find enjoyable in a tropical setting. "And yes, often a book can be judged directly by its cover or as we like to say, the bullshit fa?ade."

"Well then, not only are your standards too high," I told her as I parked away from the beach, immediately cutting the engine. "But I guess I labeled you correctly."

"From icing?"

Laughing, I jumped out, immediately grabbing the bags from the backseat. "Buttoned up and needing unraveling."

"Why did you think that?"

Closing the door, I leaned in, giving her a daring look. "It looks like you're not the only one doing a little recon. Come on. Let's get settled so I can show you around."

"Recon? Are you serious?" She threw herself out of the Jeep, storming toward me as only the fiery woman could do.

"Deadly. When it comes to both business and pleasure, I play to win. Haven't you already figured that out?"

I didn't bother waiting for her, although I sensed she was still close to the Jeep, likely with her arms folded stubbornly. After climbing the stairs and tossing the bags onto the deck, I jerked out my keys. Another whiff of her perfume that perpetually stained my skin wafted into my nostrils.

Damn it. My cock was hard already.

Blue balls were a real thing.

After opening the door and finding the switch for several of the overhead LED lights, I finally turned around. She was standing right where I thought she'd be, glaring at me through her dark shades. Even in her little shorts and tank top, her outline was freaking beautiful.

"You might want to see your prison, baby. It's up to you." I threw it out, unable to help myself.

I could almost hear her cursing from where I stood but at least my taunt had gotten her moving. The place had been refreshed as my brothers and I required, complete with the ceiling fans already going and the main door leading to the private deck open to allow the ocean breeze to come in.

I'd forgotten how much I enjoyed being both here and in the one near St. Thomas. But this one was likely my favorite. Maybe because I enjoyed exploring the French side of St. Martin so much. She wasn't stomping up the stairs like I'd expected her to. She'd just appeared like a breath of fresh air.

Or maybe now I should call her a barracuda.

She skirted around me, moving into the center of the living room. We'd had every design similar for the bungalows with the bedrooms being the center of attention in the water. Not that there wasn't a two-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the ocean with the other.

I'd asked one of the staff to grab a few island dresses and a couple of bikinis from one of our posh shops given I'd had a feeling Selena wouldn't dare bring anything sexy. Although I did hope she'd brought a few of the recent underwear purchases I'd made for her.

Even if I planned on ripping off every thong with my teeth.

She flitted around the room almost as if she owned the place, but I could tell she was enjoying herself immensely. So, I let her.

Dropping the bags, I immediately moved into the kitchen, checking the cabinets and refrigerator. I had to admit my staff knew me far too well, lining both with everything we'd need. Which was why they got paid the big bucks. Too bad I wasn't a romantic guy since there were even new pillar candles on the counter.

She finally moved to the connecting bridge for the other main bungalow, standing just outside the door as if fearful to head down the well-secured planks.

The sun was already setting, creating stunning imagery across the water. I took the time to open a bottle of cabernet, one of my favorites. With two glasses in my hand, I headed toward the bridge, but she'd already crossed. Taking my time, I meandered toward her, marveling once again at her beauty when I found her at the furthest point, standing with her hands on the railing.

She was laughing softly, simply enjoying the quiet reverence the location had to offer.

I moved beside her, offering the glass as if it was an olive branch. At least she accepted without tossing the expensive liquid in my face. Somewhere during the trip, she'd yanked out her ponytail holder and the way the wind was blowing through the long strands kept me staring at her.

She gave me a onceover, starting to say something then stopping. As she returned her gaze toward the ocean, I leaned over the railing.

"You are very lucky," she said in such a reserved voice I almost didn't recognize it.

"Didn't your parents ever take you to a location like this when you were young? They had the money for glorious vacations."

Her snort also caught me off guard. "You obviously suck at research. When you were investigating my family, you should have easily learned when I was a kid, we were poor. My dad worked two jobs just to make ends meet, my mom even cashiering at a local mini mart for a little while so I could have the kind of toys and treats other children my age were getting on a weekly basis."

That surprised me. Granted, I hadn't delved into every year or every contract her father had secured. "Where did you live?"

"Oh, Dad insisted we act like we had money. He put everything into a house way out of our means. Little did anyone know Mom and Dad were mortgaged to the hilt, some furniture close to being threadbare. But we made do, even if dinners were often macaroni and cheese and whatever meat was on sale. What their hard work showed me was that if you wanted something bad enough, you did the work."

"Impressive values to teach a child."

She nodded and took a sip of wine, closing her eyes as if savoring the taste. Every expression drew me in even more. "I think that's why when he got his first major contract followed by a second and was suddenly invited to all the swanky parties, I was shocked how much his attitude changed. Yes, he was good at acting but I didn't want to be like the rest of the kids. Arrogant little bastards." She laughed and goddamn, the sound was the perfect music.

"You mean like me and my brothers?"

"If we're being honest, I'd say I prefer to think of your family as rich, spoiled kids with silver spoons stuck up their asses. I know that's rude of me stereotyping that way, but I grew up around them."

"I do want you to feel like you can be honest with me as well as comfortable. We don't need to be enemies."

"Don't we?" As soon as she turned her head, she was forced to shove hair behind her ear to keep it from blowing in her face. "I might not always understand or react the way I should about my father's rise to wealth and fame of sorts, but I was there when he barely got home in time to grab a couple hours of sleep. I was the kid who never had her father take her to father-daughter special places. He never came to school recitals. Granted, even as a kid I knew the sacrifices he was making." She turned toward me, walking closer. "I know what you're trying to do."

"What is that?"

"Break my father into little bits by using me. It's not going to work, Valerio. We come from a tougher stock than you have any idea about. You've never had a tough day in your life. Have you? You likely never got dirt under your fingernails from the joy of planting flowers. And I doubt you ever changed your own oil in any vehicle. I have. My dad taught me to be self-supportive. You see, all of us weren't born so lucky. So, if I'm here solely so you can turn me against my father, it's just not going to happen and you can take me back to the States. I will fight you."

She was one of the few people, let alone women who dared stand up to me. I would usually be angry or attempt to crush the spirit of the person doing so, but around her I didn't necessarily want to be that person.

Even if we were playing an emotional game of chess where one opponent would ultimately lose.

"I wanted you here so we could get to know each other." I realized that was true.

She laughed entirely differently. As if I was making fun of her. "Right. I guess we'll see what happens. Don't fool yourself or try to fool me. You're a superficial man who is used to fulfilling his needs with ease. Sure, I'm attracted to you. I'm not going to lie about that. Yes, I've even enjoyed your company, as crazy as that sounds, but I want to be around a man who understands real life. Men who can embrace suffering and family tragedy as much as they manipulate passion into something they want it to be. We're two different people destined for two different things but one thing I can say: I can look at myself in the mirror. Can you?"

I honestly had no easy answer for her, so I remained quiet.

As she headed back to the bedroom bungalows, I took a deep breath. How in the hell was I going to handle this woman?

I honestly had no idea.

But I knew one thing; she had more chutzpa than I'd ever had.

And something else. I wanted her to be mine. All mine.