Private Paradise

  Private Paradise

  By Jami Alden

  © 2011 Jami Alden

  Smashwords Edition

  Jami@jamialden.com

  http://www.jamialden.com

  http://www.facebook.com/JamiAldenBooks

  http://www.twitter.com/jamialden

  After years of catering to the whims of the rich and famous at one of the Caribbean's most luxurious resorts, there isn't much that can rattle Carla DeLuca.

  Until Sam O’Connell shows up.

  Tall, dark, and sexy, Holley Cay's new security chief is no stranger. He's the irresistible bad boy who seduced her over a long, hot summer only to leave her heartbroken, humiliated, and determined to never again fall for a player like him. But though her heart still stings with the memory of his rejection, her body can't forget the all-consuming pleasure of his touch.

  Sam never forgave himself for his too cruel rejection of Carla over a decade before. Young, reckless, and convinced it was only a matter of time Carla regretted hooking up with a trouble maker like him, Sam pushed Carla away before she could realize her mistake. But when Sam lands a job working for Carla in paradise, he seizes the chance to finally make things right.

  When a hurricane strands them alone on the island, Carla is unable to resist the passion simmering between them. She doesn't fool herself that what they have will last past the storm. But little does she know, Sam will do whatever it takes to make her his – forever this time.

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

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  Chapter 1

  This could not be happening.

  That was all Carla DeLuca could think as she stared, dumbstruck, at the man in front of her. The Caribbean breeze ruffled night dark hair that was much shorter than she remembered. His lean features had become bolder, more chiseled, and his broad-shouldered lanky form had filled out substantially. Despite the differences, she had known his face the instant she'd laid eyes on him. Even after over a decade, there was no mistaking those blue eyes, startling against his jet black lashes and brows.

  Eyes that crinkled at the corners as he offered a friendly, if guarded smile, and didn't do a damn thing to help her unglue her tongue from the roof of her mouth.

  “Isn't it amazing?” Her cousin Chris's laughing voice broke through her daze, and she focused on his smiling face as he clapped the other man on the shoulder. “Who would have ever thought we'd hire Sam O'Connell as head of security?”

  “Amazing,” Carla murmured. Mentally steeling herself, she forced herself to meet Sam's eyes. The effect of those laser blue eyes meeting hers was only slightly less jolting than it had been two minutes ago, when she'd arrived on the terrace of Holley Cay's dining room to see what Chris's big surprise was.

  After a two month search for someone to head up security at Holley Cay, the exclusive Caribbean resort Chris had started nearly a decade ago which Carla now managed, Chris had found the perfect candidate.

  Sam O'Connell.

  A man who Carla could happily go to her grave never laying eyes on again.

  “Sam,” Carla repeated. “You hired Sam to head up our security,” she said, as though she expected Chris to change his answer, like it was all some horrible joke.

  But Chris had no clue what had gone on between Sam and Carla during that hot Las Vegas summer, and if he did, he'd never be so cruel as to pull something like this.

  “It's great to see you again, Carla,” Sam said. His expression gave nothing away, but his voice, still raspy and even deeper than it had been at twenty-one, had the same maddening impact as it always did, curling around her like a warm blanket and sending a little flutter of need to her core. “You look even better than the last time I saw you.”

  Not much of a stretch, considering the last time he saw her she was a sobbing mess, practically bent double in pain from the blow he'd just delivered to her heart.

  Still, as she felt his admiring gaze roam over her, she was glad she'd had her monthly Brazilian Blowout just yesterday so her psychotically curly hair hung down her back in silky waves and that her short, silky dress showed off arms and legs that were slim and toned from hours on the running trail and thousands of reps in the gym.

  That's right. Take a long look at what you gave up, everything you've been missing, she thought.

  Then it hit her again, how easily he'd been able to walk away. He hadn't missed a goddamn thing. The memory of his smirk and the cruel glint in his blue eyes was enough to get her hormones in check and straighten her spine.

  She was no longer an eighteen-year-old girl caught under the spell of a seductive bad boy. She was almost thirty years old, in charge of a multi-million dollar operation. And, if Sam and Chris had their way, Sam's boss.

  Right. Maybe when hell froze over.

  Her muscles strained with the effort to keep her smile on her face. “You're looking good yourself.” It was the understatement of the last millennium. At twenty-one, he'd been a blue-eyed heartbreaker with his black Irish looks and tall, athletic body. Now, at thirty-two, he was six foot three inches of solid muscle. He'd packed on at least twenty-five pounds since she'd seen him last, and not an ounce of it was fat.

  His shoulders strained at the sleeves of his white linen shirt. In deference to the tropical heat, he wore short sleeves, exposing the lower half of biceps that were as big around as her thigh and forearms corded with muscle and sinew.

  His face had taken on a lean maturity, and while his eyes were still piercingly blue, they no longer held the naughty glimmer that said he was thinking of about a hundred different things to do to her and she was guaranteed to enjoy every one.

  There was a seriousness about him now, a kind of quiet readiness that hadn't existed in the charming hellraiser she'd known. And in his eyes, she could see the shadows, the ones she'd never had more than a glimpse of all those years ago.

  The ones that made her want to pull him into her arms and chase them away. She felt the same undeniable tug now, the urge to chase away his demons with the sheer power of her love.

  Oh, gag me.

  She shook her head, snapped herself out of it. God, what was wrong with her? Five minutes in his presence and she was already spinning fantasies like the dopey eighteen-year-old she'd once been.

  “Chris,” she said, turning her attention to her cousin, “I know Sam is one of your oldest friends, but this position requires a significant level of responsibility. No offense Sam, but from what I remember about you, I can't imagine you're even remotely qualified.”

  Sam's smile tightened around the edges. “Based on what you remember about me, I'm sure you can't. But if you'll look at my resume, I can assure you I'm more than qualified to manage security for Holley Cay.”

  He slid a piece of paper across the table. Carla flipped it over and saw that it was a resume. She scanned down, trying to keep the surprise from her face as she registered the details. Six years in the US Army. That was no surprise. She'd known he was headed off to basic the night he left.

  At the time, after she'd seen his true colors, she'd expected he would either go AWOL or get kicked out in no time. She'd never expected him to last six years, five of them in Special Forces, followed by an honorable discharge four years ago.

  While in the Army he'd completed a bachelor's degree in business and economics, and in the four years since his discharge, he'd been working for
an international security firm that worked protecting US interests in such lovely places as Iraq, Somalia, and Afghanistan.

  “You know I'd never hire anyone who wasn't qualified just because he's my friend,” Chris said, sounding insulted. “You're my cousin, and I would have never let you take over as general manager here if I didn't know you could to the job as well as I did, and I'll fire your ass in a heartbeat if you're not cutting it.”

  His words, and the sharp look that accompanied them made Carla's stomach clench. She thought she'd made up for what had happened last year, but apparently not. “If anything Sam is overqualified,” Chris added.

  “You obviously have a great deal of experience,” she conceded. “But you understand it's hard for me to consider hiring someone who nearly went to juvie for boosting cars to run our security department.”

  “That was a long time ago,” Sam said, his blue gaze unwavering. “I think you'll find a lot about me that's changed since then.” She knew he wasn't talking about his resume.

  What if he's changed? What if he's not the bad boy player he once was? A reformed bad boy is every girl's dream... Where the hell had that stupid, naïve, romantic idealist come from? Carla wondered as she gave herself a mental shake.

  She thought she'd killed that part of herself a long time ago. No, scratch that, Sam had killed it. Stabbed it in the heart and laughed while he'd done it.

  “I appreciate you coming all the way down here to interview,” she said, “but we're still reviewing several candidates for the position.”

  Sam and Chris exchanged a look. Chris' dark brows pulled into a frown as he looked back at her. “This isn't the interview. I've already offered Sam the position.”

  “And I've accepted,” Sam said.

  There as a roaring sound in her ears and a tightness in her stomach.

  She stood abruptly and said, “Will you excuse us for a minute?” Turning to her cousin, “Chris? A word please.”

  She spun on her heel, her sandals tapping against the stone of the patio as she strode quickly into the restaurant's lounge area. At this time of the morning the crowd was thin, most of the resort's guests still sleeping off last night's revelry or basking at the pool or at their own private beaches. Still, Carla pitched her voice low in case anyone cared to eavesdrop.

  “What the hell Chris?” she said. “How could you hire him without even discussing it with me?”

  Chris held up his hands as though to ward her off. “It all came together really quickly. Last week when I was in Vegas visiting Mom I ran into Sam at the gym. We got to talking and it turned out he's been looking to make a switch, but he was about to accept an offer from a company in the UK so I had to act fast.”

  “You should have consulted me,” Carla snapped. “When I took over as GM―”

  “Interim GM.”

  Carla's teeth clenched at the reminder her position was still provisional, that the board of directors had not yet approved her for the permanent position. “Interim or not, you assured me you would let me call the shots.” A year ago, Chris had decided to expand his operations beyond Holley Cay and opened up another resort on a nearby island he'd acquired from the celebrity owner who had overextended himself and needed to liquidate.

  Unlike Holley Cay, which catered to wealthy couples and singles, the new resort on Coral Cay was geared towards families, with a high end child care facility and activities designed to keep the younger ones entertained while the parents soaked up the sun and enjoyed umbrella drinks on the beach.

  Chris and his wife, Julie, who had just had their first child just a few months before work began on the new facility, were eager for the change of pace the new resort offered. While the resort was under development, Chris had handed over more and more of the day to day operations of Holley Cay to Carla. After five years of working with Chris as the assistant manager of the resort, it was a given, at least as far as Carla and Chris could tell, that Carla would take over as general manager.

  However, their board of directors, made up of their biggest outside investors, wasn't entirely on board. Though she knew the ins and outs of the resort better than anyone―maybe even Chris – there was talk of getting someone from the outside, with decades of experience, to insure Holley Cay didn't lose its status as one of the world's most exclusive, luxurious playgrounds for the rich and famous.

  Chris, who thankfully always had her back, had lobbied heavily in Carla's favor. He'd gotten the board to agree to give Carla a one-year trial period as the acting General Manager.

  In the first six months of her trial, Carla had come through with flying colors, if she did say so herself.

  Until disaster struck, one which made it imperative that she hire a qualified security director, and fast.

  “We've been looking for a security head for a month now, and nothing is happening,” Chris said.

  Carla threw up her hands in frustration. “It's not my fault we haven't found anyone qualified. You saw the resumes. You told me not to bother bringing any of them in for interviews.”

  “And now I found someone who's overqualified, so I jumped on it. You should be thanking me for taking what's been a major hurdle off your plate.”

  If he'd hired anyone other than Sam O'Connell, she would. “I feel like I've been subverted and I don't like it.”

  Chris's expression, usually so open and friendly, became grave. “I didn't want to have to hit you with this, but you know the thefts here have the investors questioning whether or not you can handle this.”

  Carla felt the knot in her stomach pull tighter. The first six months after she took over, everything went as smooth as silk. Business was booming despite the down economy, and Holley Cay continued to get nothing but praise from their exclusive clientele.

  Then a month ago, the panty raider had struck.

  At least, that's what Carla had called him in her mind. She'd never be so frivolous in front of the women who, rightly so, were horrified and furious about the fact that, while at Holley Cay, someone had broken into their rooms, stolen multiple pairs of underwear, and was now attempting to auction them off on eBay.

  Though most of the world saw it as nothing more than a silly prank, and the culprit, who turned out to be a member of the housekeeping staff looking for a creative way to make an extra buck, was easily tracked through her eBay account, for Carla and Holley Cay it had been disastrous.

  Besides the gorgeous Caribbean setting, the resort staked its reputation on complete privacy, unparalleled luxury, and total discretion. Guests were willing to pay thousands of dollars for the privilege.

  Carla had handled the problem as discreetly and as aggressively as she could, comping the guests who were victimized and getting rid of the security manager who had not done the background check required of every single employee. If he had, he would have found out that the woman in question had worked at another resort two years before and had been fired for stealing.

  Then Carla had had a brand new, state of the art key card system installed that tracked employees' usage and made sure none of the staff were entering rooms or facilities unless they had reason to be there.

  To her face, Chris and the investors had commended her on how she handled the aftermath, and when business rebounded and the numbers went back up, Carla had hoped to put the whole mess behind her.

  Now she was afraid that one hiccup―okay, it was more like a heart attack―was going to ruin her chance to keep the job she'd worked so hard to earn.

  “What do you think?” she asked, raising her chin in challenge. “I know you have to answer to the investors, but you still have a lot of pull. Do you think I'm up to it?”

  “Of course,” Chris replied, and Carla felt the tension drain out of his shoulders at his lack of hesitation. “But the lack of a competent security manager makes them nervous, and the more nervous they are, the more I get bitched at.” He lifted a big hand to stifle a yawn. “And between Julie and Mathilda and twenty families at a time to keep happy, I don't need
to hear it. I ran Sam's resume by them and they loved that he's former special forces and worked for Argus Securities.”

  Carla rolled her eyes. “I don't know a single person who would choose where to stay based on who was running security.”

  “Me neither, but that's not the point. It's your ass if we don't hire someone. Sam practically fell into our laps, and I can't understand why you're not as happy about this as I am.”

  She knew she was screwed, but she couldn't keep from lobbing one final protest. “He's practically been a mercenary for the past five years. That's not exactly a great foundation for working in the hospitality business.”

  Chris cocked a dark eyebrow and gave her an irritated look.

  Carla slumped in defeat. In trying to avert professional disaster on her behalf, he had no idea he'd brought an even larger one down on her shoulders. And there was no way she could tell him, not without completely humiliating herself.

  Even if she did fess up that a long time ago, in a Nevada desert far, far away she'd fallen for the one boy-man she'd known damn well to stay away from, what did it say about her that after more than a decade she was still so hung up on him she could barely stand to be in the same room?

  Chris, though her cousin and one of her best friends, was also her boss. She was on thin ice professionally, and she couldn't let a personal incident from the past affect her professional present.

  As she had reminded herself out on the deck, she was no longer an idealistic eighteen-year-old with stars in her eyes and hormones raging through her body. Time to pull up her big girl panties and face this situation like a grown up.

  Chapter 2

  There was no mistaking the tension in Carla's posture as she stalked across the patio, Chris hot at her heels.

  Irritated or no, Sam couldn't keep his eyes off the way her ass swished back and forth and the way muscles of her calves shifted beneath smooth, tanned skin under the flowy fabric of her dress. He hadn't been bullshitting her when he said she looked even better than she had the last time he saw her. At eighteen, she'd been all wide, dark eyes and wild curls to match.