Bound to Happen. Alison Kent

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СКАЧАТЬ the high-stakes offer made for a savvy business proposition.

      One of their mutual friends, Ray Coffey, had won.

      And now here Sydney stood, stranded on a Caribbean island, well aware that complaining only served to give her situation a “poor little rich girl” sting.

      What work-weary single career woman wouldn’t want to be stranded on a Caribbean island? A private island at that. With a tropical beachfront villa outfitted to sleep ten, a live-in staff and four servings of beefcake among her fellow castaways.

      Me, me, me, Sydney wanted to shout. But she sighed, instead, and boosted a hip onto the foot-wide wooden railing of the villa’s first-floor wraparound veranda. A soft evening breeze sifted through her hair and she tucked loose strands behind her ear, inhaling the clean salty essence of the sea.

      The sunset was spectacular. She’d never seen a sunset here that wasn’t. Tonight, wispy clouds floated on a palette of soft pastels, though Sydney knew well the intense beauty of sunsets born in fire. The beach was equally amazing—the sand eggshell white, the water the tropical green-tinged blue never found along the Texas Gulf coast.

      But even better than the view of the sky and the surf was the view of the three men standing at the shoreline, ankle-deep in the water and staring out to sea. Actually, Sydney mused, they were more than likely staring at the catamaran sailing by several miles off the coast. But she was in a contemplative mood and, therefore, allowed to project.

      Each man was similarly dressed. Doug Storey wore navy board shorts with a white-and-gray hibiscus print. Anton Neville’s trunks were of the same cut, but colored in turquoise and hot-island red. Both Doug and Anton were tall with lanky swimmers’ physiques. Anton’s blond hair was a riot of curls. Doug’s, a shade darker, was longer, looser, inviting the touch of a woman’s hands. But it was the last man, the third man, who commanded Sydney’s attention.

      Ray Coffey was a big man and beautifully built. The trunks he wore hit him at the knee and were a bright beach yellow with a black piping trim. The vivid color was the perfect contrast for his olive-hued complexion. His brown hair was the color of espresso, rich and thick and cut to fall softly over his brow, his eyes a dark emerald-green. Even from here Sydney could see the way the ocean breeze threaded like a lover’s fingers through the strands. She wondered what time had made of the texture. She wondered what else about him time might have changed.

      Sitting on the veranda, she drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her shins. Her brown-and-gold tribal-print sarong fell open, catching on the shrubbery tucked close to the villa and revealing her leg and hip and the edge of her butter-colored bikini bottoms. A softer hue than the yellow Ray wore. But still, yellow. Like Ray wore. The similarity struck her for some strange reason. Especially since she was too practical to believe in intangible, nebulous signs.

      The light from the setting sun silhouetted his body, accentuating the breadth of his shoulders and, when he turned to the side…Sydney’s breath caught. Not unexpectedly, but with a sharp visceral hitch that broke her rhythm. Yet, try as she might, she could find no logical explanation for her unusually fierce physical response to Ray. This overreaction had to be an aberration, the island casting a sensual spell. Nothing else came close to making sense.

      She wasn’t a stranger to the male body. She wasn’t, in fact, a stranger to Ray’s. But eight years had passed since she’d known his touch. And eight years meant added definition to the muscles of his chest, a chiseled distinction to his abs. Eight years had also thickened the whorls of hair growing low on his belly as well as, no doubt, the nest of hair cushioning his sex.

      His trunks rode low on his hips and, standing as he was in profile, Sydney’s gaze was drawn to his flat stomach, his waistband and the impressive bulge beneath. Her imagination followed her wandering eyes and she took a deep breath, unnerved by the way her heart beat like a bass drum in her chest. She stretched out her legs along the railing, crossed her ankles, letting her head fall back to rest against one of the veranda’s support beams.

      A relentless tingle settled unmercifully in the core of her belly. She squeezed her legs together and smoothed her palms down the length of her thighs. Even the feel of her own hands caressing her limbs failed to calm her and did, in fact, heighten the sensations simmering beneath the surface of her skin.

      Since Ray had reentered her life, unnerved was not an uncommon state in which to find her emotions, just as aroused was not an unusual condition in which to find her body. Neither were comfortable situations. Both she intended to address during the days of this vacation. She had to get him out of her system before they returned to the States.

      This obsessive infatuation was beginning to take its toll; her daydreams had recently crossed the line into erotic fantasy, cutting into her concentration in such a way that she feared her work might suffer. She couldn’t allow any relationship, whether one of her imagination’s making or one from the past, to color the business decisions or personal choices she made.

      Especially after having seen that very thing happen with her father. She refused to sink to his level of disloyalty—to her business, to her friends or to herself—and was willing to do anything, anything to make sure it didn’t happen. Ray Coffey was becoming the sort of consuming distraction her life didn’t need. Which meant it was time to prove to herself that he wasn’t the lover her memory declared him to be.

      This trip had originally been planned to last just over a week and a half. With the Indiscreet docked in Belize City in preparation for its imminent sale, Ray had arranged with the two-person crew for the fifty-seven-foot yacht to circle the western Caribbean, slowly exploring the barrier reef along the coast of Belize before making stops in Jamaica and the Caymans on the return.

      In addition to the travel plans, the vacation invitations had been left up to Ray. He’d asked both Anton and Doug to come along, as he was in negotiations with their architectural firm, Neville and Storey, and the trip made for good business, as well as a good time. He’d also asked Jess Morgan, another friend from his core circle of six, all of whom played together on the same adult soccer league.

      And then he’d invited Sydney.

      She’d been more than tempted—by the trip, yes. Until last year’s falling-out with her father, Nolan, she’d never turned him down when he’d asked her to go sailing. But she’d also been tempted by the prospect of being confined with Ray on the Indiscreet. An intimately innocent confinement, where running from their mutual attraction would mean a trip to the bottom of the sea.

      So she’d given him a conditional yes and then invited her three conditions.

      Because the six gIRL-gEAR partners were discussing a possible change to the firm’s corporate structure, Sydney had asked Annabel Lee to come along. Annabel, known around the office as Poe, had moved up rapidly through company ranks. She was currently under consideration to replace Chloe Zuniga as vice president of cosmetics and accessories once Chloe launched the new gUIDANCE gIRL mentoring program. Chloe had assured the others that Poe was not the fire-breathing dragon she seemed.

      And getting to know Poe away from the office, woman-to-woman, was Sydney’s prime plan.

      She’d also invited Lauren Hollister and had done so for two reasons—one obvious, one personal. The first was Ray’s invitation to Anton Neville. After a year in an exclusive relationship, Lauren and Anton had recently split, though it was clear to all their friends that the two were more miserable apart than they’d ever been together.

      Matchmaking always had the potential to backfire, but in this case Sydney was willing to take the chance. Lauren was one of Sydney’s gIRL-gEAR partners and she had СКАЧАТЬ