Ruined (Ruined and Redeemed Duet Book 1) Page 3

  While I hate the Vanderbeeks with every part of my being, I am a man. She’s an enticing package and I have an insatiable need to know how soft her lips are. I dip my head and she rises up on her toes, teetering precariously if not for her hold on the wall.

  Too bad this isn’t the time to indulge my curiosity. “Get in between the covers, London.”

  Her blush is immediate, and the pulse at the base of her throat beats like she’s a rabbit trying to outrun a fox.

  When she releases the wall, she rocks back on her heels. I wrap my arm around her waist and barely suppress my groan. No picture could do justice for how soft her skin truly is. I lead her through the outer room to the bedroom with a king-size bed. I release her only to rip the covers back and reveal pristine white sheets. She’ll look exquisite writhing in ecstasy across them.

  “Crawl in,” I order.

  Her entire body tenses but she does it. The anticipation in her eyes borders too closely to fear for my liking.

  I hook my fingers under the blankets and pull them up until they rest under her chin. Confusion passes through her gaze, but the anticipation is back as I put a hand on either side of her head and lean over her.

  “I will ruin you.” I say it like a vow. “I will ruin you as much and as often as you want, but not tonight. You need to sleep and sober up first.”

  Her eyelids flutter and relief practically oozes out of every pore. “Romeo wouldn’t have waited for me to sober up.”

  We don’t know that, but as easily as she gave herself to me, no, he might not have.

  I brush a kiss on her forehead. “Get some sleep, London.”

  Her eyelids drift shut and her breathing grows steady, but I stay perched over her. I’ve been watching her through a screen for years. Here she is, in person.

  I can’t guarantee that she’ll be willing to sleep with me in the morning. But of all the ways I plan to destroy this woman’s life, taking advantage of her body while she’s drunk is not one of them.

  Her tipsiness gives me the perfect excuse to stay. What if she vomits? She’s in no condition to help herself. The cabana we’re at wasn’t heavy handed with their alcohol but the glasses are large. What I’ve seen of her lifestyle, she isn’t normally a drinker and those sunrise surprises she drank are more like a two-for-one in booze.

  Shuffling over to the sitting area across from the bed, I slide my flip-flops off. Tonight, I’d sleep in the chair. Facing London, I brush a hand through my hair and fiddle with the laces on my shorts. Fuck, I’m not used to sitting around with nothing to do, no screen in front of me.

  While my bride slumbers, I slip my phone out. Might as well work, because if she’s still on board with her foolish plan in the morning, I’ll have twelve more days with her and we’ll be very busy.

  She wants me to ruin her, after all.

  Chapter 3

  London

  My tongue is thick and my mouth is fuzzy like someone shoved ten cotton balls between my teeth and cheeks. I smack my lips and peel my eyes open. My gaze lands on a bottle of water and a small bottle of ibuprofen.

  The cloudy events of the previous night break through the fog in my mind. I met a guy. Not only did I meet him, but I vaguely recall a deep voice in my room and a strong hand around my waist.

  I sit up with a gasp. Did I sleep with a random man like I set out to do? It’ll be less effective if I show up on my wedding day and don’t remember a thing.

  The air around me is heavy, pointed. There’s someone else in the room.

  My heart slams against my rib cage as I raise my gaze to the chair against the far wall. The sexiest man I’ve ever seen relaxes in the recliner with the footrest kicked up. His hands are folded over his chiseled belly and he watches me, his eyes wary, like he wonders how I’m going to react.

  He isn’t the only one.

  “Hi.” My voice is rough and scratchy.

  “Water and medicine first, and then I’ll get you something to eat.”

  Has he been here the whole time? Did we sleep together?

  I glance down. My bikini top is in place, if only barely covering my nipples. I try to discretely adjust it, but a wave of heat crashes over my body. I can’t hide from him. He’s watching me.

  It’s disconcerting. I’ve had a few long-term boyfriends, but as a morning person I was always up and at ‘em first. Waking up to a sexy stranger staring at me… Well, it should bother me more than it does. I’m more hot and bothered than uncomfortable.

  I pillage my mind for as many memories as I can. “Jake, right?”

  “If those drinks had been any stronger, you wouldn’t be able to remember.”

  Agreed. But it would take a lot of alcohol to forget him and that dark fathomless gaze. “What time is it?”

  “Nine.”

  My eyes bulge. “I slept for thirteen hours?”

  “You must’ve needed it.” He has a deep rumble with its own rough edge. My first thought is that he isn’t used to talking. Maybe he’s not, what do I know about him?

  “It’s been a rough week.” The last couple of nights were nothing but tossing and turning. The prospect of marrying a despicable man combined with my crazy idea to have anonymous dirty sex for two weeks in Mexico left me stricken with a solid case of insomnia.

  “Where do you want to eat?”

  I take my time answering. I take out two ibuprofen and pop them in my mouth, sucking down half a bottle of water. “I feel like I need a shower and an outfit change first.”

  “You want food in your belly after taking that. We can order in.”

  I slant a look toward him. “Are you a doctor?” He seems a little older than me. Maybe thirty-ish. He could be a doctor.

  “Not a doctor.”

  One detail I recall of our previous conversation is how little he talked. He’s efficient with words and information. “You do that roundabout thing where you get away without saying much.”

  A dark brow lifts. I bet the man speaks in expressions more than words. “No one’s ever accused me of that before.”

  “It’s not an accusation. We all have our different styles of communication.” A smile lifts my lips even as the water weighs heavy in my empty belly. “I run—work for a company that prioritizes learning about how people communicate. It’s been a big part of their success.”

  The air in the room charges. Energy crackles between us. I wouldn’t be surprised if a lightning bolt flashes through the sky and cracks the ceramic tile on the floor.

  “I’m in IT, remember?” he says. “The biggest benefit is that I don’t have to deal with people.”

  I laugh, forgetting about the dull ache at my temples. “Honesty. I like it.”

  His eyes briefly narrow. I’m not sure what to say next. A shower is on my priority list, but he’s insisting I eat first. Before any of that happens, I’d have to slide out of bed in nothing but a bikini. The bottom could be twisted in all sorts of directions.

  Shower or not, I have to use the bathroom. I’ll have to risk it.

  Slipping my legs out from under the featherlight duvet, I groan as my feet hit the cool floor. “I think I cranked up the air conditioning too high.”

  It sounds inane, but I don’t know what else to say. I have little recollection of how far I went with Jake last night. The other side of the bed looks undisturbed, but that doesn’t mean we didn’t fuck against the wall, or on this frigid floor. I hated not knowing.

  I hated the thought of missing out on it, even though I was there.

  I stand up. The room spins and I sit back down. A wave of heat precedes Jake appearing at my side. “Don’t rush it.” His tone is commanding. This is a man who gets what he wants.

  I’ll ruin you.

  Did he say that? Or was that in my dreams?

  He’s next to me and I’m a confused mess. This isn’t my finest hour and I just want to get to the bathroom and freshen up. The mystery that is Jake can get unraveled later. If he didn’t assault me in my sleep, then it’s a good
bet I’m safe in my bathroom.

  A strong grip circles my right arm. I’m lifted and tucked into his side. My feet move of their own accord and I don’t have time to make sure my bikini bottom is situated over all the bits I need to cover. But I guess if he saw them last night, this morning wasn’t going to make any difference.

  I really wish I knew what he saw last night.

  He waits until I prop my hands on the bathroom counter before he steps back. “I’ll be right outside. Just yell if you need me.” Direct. Bordering on an order. God, I like it. But he’s not done with me yet. “And London?”

  I meet his gaze and my belly flutters. I haven’t seen myself in the mirror but I doubt I look as calm and centered as him. Or as fabulously delicious. Why did he pick me out of everyone in the cabana bar? Was it my desperation?

  “Nothing happened last night,” he says, yanking me out of my head. “You were too intoxicated.”

  I nervously brush a lock of hair behind my ear. I was wasted last night. He could’ve done anything he wanted and I would’ve been along for the ride, not knowing better and in no shape to defend myself. It doesn’t matter that sleeping around is exactly what I had wanted. It’s also important to me to have a choice. “Thank you.”

  “You shouldn’t have to thank me.” He turns around, but stops and looks over his shoulder, his gaze tracing down my body, then slowly climbing back up. “But you’re welcome.”

  Jacobi

  Anger simmers in my chest. My fiancée got tanked and went home with the first stranger who hit on her. The second stranger. Good thing I was around to scare Romeo off. If she’d slept with him, would he have stuck around? Would she have found someone else?

  She would’ve damn well done what she came here to do.

  How does she run such a lucrative business when she makes rash, impulsive decisions like that? Does she realize how many people who work for her would be affected by her bad behavior?

  Of course she doesn’t. She was raised being handed everything she wanted. She’s never been that employee, that kid, depending on the adults around to take care of her. Waiting for some food and money to be dropped, hoping to have enough to meet her basic needs.

  The spoiled princess is still in the bathroom. I call in an order for room service, choosing an array of food choices from fruits and vegetables to eggs and waffles. And a hamburger. A regular old brunch will get delivered to her room.

  Our room. She doesn’t know it yet, but I’ll be moving my stuff here soon. She wants to indiscriminately fuck for the next two weeks straight, then I’ll make sure she discriminates against everyone but me.

  But it won’t do any good to come off as a lecherous predator. I’m not a lecher, but I am a predator. She’s my only prey.

  The bathroom door opens and a rush of steam billows out. She showered like I thought she would instead of eating first. The spoiled princess doesn’t listen to anyone.

  She emerges, a white towel wrapped around her lush curves. The top of the towel is tucked between her breasts. Her bathing suit didn’t hide much, but the need to know what she looks like without that towel pounds me.

  This won’t do. She’s an attractive woman, beautiful, and I’m sure she uses that to her advantage. I can’t be driven by the demands of my body. My head has to stay in charge of this game.

  “Our food will be here soon.” All morning, I’ve delivered short, clipped sentences like I’m used to. I’ll have to remember to be witty and charming. Two traits that are utterly foreign to me.

  “Thanks. Again.” Her wet hair is combed and slicked back. She wore little makeup yesterday, but now there isn’t a speck on her. Even her nails are plain. She looks young, nothing like the CEO she is. Either she’s blessed with good genetics or her cosmetic company is top quality like it claims.

  Which will fetch me top dollar when I sell it.

  But that’s later. I need to be witty and charming. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I ordered a bit of everything. It’s on me.”

  A tentative smile plays over her lips. Fascinating lips. Paler pink than I expected. Freckles scatter over her cheeks and nose, adding to her innocent appeal. “I’m not picky. I’m sure anything the resort serves will taste fabulous.” She clutches the top of her towel and digs into her suitcase. The way she leans over and moves her items around makes her butt do the most delicious wiggle. Her towel jacks up an inch every time she bends down farther.

  I’m holding my breath, waiting for that damn fabric to rise high enough for me to catch a glimpse of the round globes of her ass.

  She straightens and shoots me a smile over her shoulder. I hurriedly lift my gaze to meet hers, but a faint blush stains her cheeks. She caught me looking.

  Will that work in my favor or scare her?

  “I’ll be right back.” She scurries into the bathroom.

  I blow a breath out, careful to keep it quiet. Dating isn’t my strong point. I find a willing partner online, and when I’m done, I go back home. Is this so… weird… because I have to stick around for two weeks? She’ll be my wife for a hell of a lot longer than that.

  By the time I hear the bathroom door again, I’ve regained my calm. I’m in this for the company. I’m in this to own Natural Glow—and her. Everything she has should’ve been mine and I want to steal it in a dirty deal like her dad did with mine.

  She exits the bathroom with more confidence this time. Wearing a white wraparound skirt that hits mid-thigh and a loose pink V-neck T-shirt, she’s just as sexy as she was in her tiny bikini. She’s done nothing more than hand comb her hair to the side so the orange-tinted blond locks lay over one shoulder. My heart thumps once, twice.

  Get control of yourself. There’s too much riding on this. The last thing I want to do is fall for my fiancée. She’s her father’s daughter. It would behoove me to remember that.

  A tap on the door saves me from faking another round of charm. It’ll be easier to do when she gets food in her stomach. Maybe some color will return to her face.

  She sits on her bed while I let the server in. Her wide eyes swallow her face as she watches the woman remove all the lids with a flourish. The food is set on the breakfast nook and the server leaves.

  “That’s a lot.”

  “You have a fridge for what we don’t eat.” Or she might throw it. Even after years of being rich, I can’t waste food. My chef prepares enough for lunch for the week and is under strict instructions not to overcook.

  “I won’t have to eat out all week.” She tiptoes to the table like she’s afraid I’ll snatch it all away. With my mom’s many “dates,” I learned to read people well. Especially scared women. London isn’t comfortable around me.

  “May I join you?”

  She looks up, surprise etched into her delicate features. “Weren’t you going to stay anyway?”

  “I don’t want to assume.” I pull out the seat for her. “But I didn’t want to leave until I knew you were going to be okay.”

  She touches her temple. “My headache keeps trying to break through.”

  “The ibuprofen should kick in soon. With some food, I doubt it’ll turn into more.” Standing back, I try my best to look unsure.

  “This is too much food for just me.” She waves toward the pile of strawberries, pineapple, and eggs that are as fluffy as the duvet on her bed. “Please.”

  Keeping the smugness out of my smile, I slide in across from her. And immediately regret it.

  She bites into a strawberry, her pink lips curled around the fruit, and moans. Moans. Her eyelids drift closed, allowing me free rein to soak in her pleasure. She chews and then her tongue flicks out, a deeper pink than her lips. I want her to lose control over me like that.

  Shaking some sense into myself, I chuckle, the sound coming out wooden. “Good stuff?” I spoon scrambled eggs onto my plate.

  Another blush stains her cheeks. Freaking adorable. I steel myself against her wiles. She has to know how her blend of sexy and cute effects guys.

&nb
sp; “Strawberries always taste better on vacation.” She digs into her food. “It doesn’t matter if I’m close to home or in another country.”

  “How many countries have you been to?” My passport is hot off the press. Before my lawyer penned the deal, I started the process just in case my future bride tried to run.

  She finishes chewing and dabs at the corner of her mouth, like the princess she is. “Oh, Paris was a must in my industry. I’ve been back several times as an adult. The Louvre is just magical.”

  The way she gushes, I almost want to go when I’ve never given a damn about a single museum in my life.

  “But what I really loved was Neuschwanstein. In Germany.” There’s that flush again. “You know, the castle that the Disneyland one was based on?”

  I have no fucking idea what she’s talking about. My life isn’t a fairytale. “I’ll have to look it up.”

  Her eyes flare. “The Disney castle?”

  I lift my brows and chew slowly, discomfort uncoiling in my chest. I’ve heard of Disney obviously. But it wasn’t like I got to go on Mommy-and-me movie dates. Storytime in my house was a lesson on how not to get screwed over.

  “Cinderella?” She frowns. “Or was it Sleeping Beauty?” She slides out and goes to grab her phone.

  Am I going to have to sit through Princess 101?

  But the castle London pulls up is real. “Ah, Sleeping Beauty. It’s magnificent. I begged Dad to go and one day after school he drove straight there.” She giggles. “I couldn’t tour it enough.”

  She’d probably been terribly cute, gushing through the halls of this fairytale castle, with that smile, prattling to her dad.

  I stab a chunk of pineapple and scour my brain for the memories that simmer close to the surface. The nights alone with my microwave mac and cheese. The Xbox that kept me company over the weekends. The friends from school I never dared invite over.

  “Are you all right?” She sounds so sincere. As if she cares about a stranger.