[Cole]
She grimaced. Her eyes shone with unshed tears and realization. "You're Cole Hunter, the billionaire who—"
"Owns Cupid's Isle," I finished for her.
For fuck's sake. She spent months checking me out and she didn't know who I was?
I couldn't decide if that went in the slut or prude column.
She opened her mouth to speak again, but I raised my hand to stop her.
"This is a tactical retreat. No promises about the next time we meet," I flirted once more, unable to help myself.
Her face softened into a heartstopping smile. We stared at each other. Did I go back to her after all?
The waiter came up to her with a menu, crashing our moment.
"This way ma'am," he said, waiting to escort her to the table of her choice.
"Until next time then, Mr. Hunter," she said, a single tear rolling down her cheek.
My chest tightened. I dug my heels into the floor, determined not to ruin the sentiment of what I just did for her by hitting on her again. Why the fuck that was, I had no idea. She was vulnerable. Emotional. Primed for a fuck. So why wasn't I closing the deal?
"Thank you, Cole," she said, her voice delicate as silk.
I watched her walk away with a heavy sigh, my dick twitching in my pants as my eyes landed on her sashaying hips.
Yup. Deal was decidedly off, Harmon.
It was just me, my hand on my dick and thoughts of her tonight. This might be a long chase, but I was amused. Intrigued. Fascinated.
Dare I say I was enjoying myself?
In fact I did spend the night fisting my dick while thinking of her. I could have had any women on the island taking care of my dick, but fuck she had me distracted. Dare I say bored with other women?
The persistent ache still in my balls even after blowing my load irked me. Fucking another woman would only irritate me more. What the fuck was wrong with me?
Needless to say, the night did at last give way to dawn. Whether I'd be able to talk my dick down from remaining semi hard all day or not I didn't know. Fuck knew I wasn't successful last night. I woke up to a stiff hard on this morning. Just like that, I was thinking of her again.
Brianna Chase was a she devil. Meeting her was a terrible mistake.
It was late afternoon already, but she hadn't shown herself since last night. Absence made the heart grow fonder. How fucking else could you explain my reaction to her? I had some sort of attachment to the frosty woman and her hot and cold shtick.
"Have we heard back from her agency yet?" I asked absentmindedly, taking in the view from the balcony of my study.
Out here was where I did my best strategizing for Hunter Industries. That was until I met Brianna.
Now all my thinking was about her. Naked. In my arms. In my bed. On the beach. In my office chair. On this very balcony… She ruined my favorite thinking spot without even being present.
"Not yet, Mr. Hunter," Harmon replied, fighting the urge to sigh.
"Well, make fire under their asses and get me a response by the end of the day," I replied with too much enthusiasm.
"You know, if you want to talk to her so badly, all you have to do is knock on her door," an exasperated Harmon snapped.
Clearly, my newfound obsession was driving Harmon as much up the walls as it was me. Wealth made me many things, patient not being one of them, much as I protested otherwise.
"I don't know what you mean," I insisted, clinging to what little pride I had left. "Just, do your job," I said with a hiss, shooing him away when I heard a knock on the door.
"I do my job, quite brilliantly I might add, which is why I can say things like this. Allow me to say it in terms you might understand. Grow a pair," said Harmon, turning his back on me as he crossed the room to go and answer the door.
Deciding that I had had enough of the balcony for the present, I followed. Harmon opened the door to a distressed Arthur, my resort manager. He had on his heels a certain fired up redhead.
Just fucking behave, I begged the unruly appendage in my pants.
"This is outrageous," she yelled, hands now on her hips as she faced poor Arthur head on. "Hand my property over to me this instant."
The anger in her voice coupled with the vigor in her stance and the deep, determined frown on her face seeped straight into my chest, then dropped down to my groin. Well, there went the last of my pride. There she stood, in all her glory. Yes indeed, Cole Hunter had a little…crush?
"Mr. Hunter please," Arthur pleaded for my help.
Brianna turned her wrath on me. "I need that phone, Cole," she demanded.
My gaze went to the package under Arthur's arm. He clung to it for dear life. Harmon stepped in and took the box from the fifty-something year old.
"Thank you, Arthur. That will be all," said Harmon, dismissing the manager.
Brianna turned to go after the manager, then thinking better of it, turned on her heel and returned to me.
Seeming to have regained her wits, she said in a more controlled manner, "Mr. Hunter–"
"I quite liked Cole, but whatever floats your boat," I said, gesturing for her to enter the study.
The anger seemed to drain right out of her, along with the confidence. They were replaced with the return of the deep-seated frown and something that looked a lot like desperation. It was only my second time meeting this woman, and yet my interest in her continued to grow.
Happy and flirty one second, grumpy and irritable the next. Angry and fierce one moment, hopeless and in despair the next. She was all over the place. Like someone not quite comfortable in her own skin. Nothing at all like her runway persona, like the reputation that preceded her.
What kind of demons are you battling, fair maiden, and how may I be of assistance?
"This way, Miss Chase. We won't be long," I insisted.
Hesitating a while longer, she looked to Harmon, then me, before resigning herself to her fate. "Fine. Let's just get this over with," she said, stepping into the study.
Harmon took the package and shoved it into my hands. "Here. A pair of balls," he said, before turning on his heel and making his exit.
Now alone in my study with a distressed woman, I squared my shoulders and prepared to be her knight in shining armor before following her into the study.
"Apologies, Miss Chase, but Arthur was merely doing his job. It's a security issue, you see," I said, giving her my most empathetic look as I fought every male instinct in my body to pin her down and fuck her silly
Already seated in the armchair before my desk, she folded her arms and crossed her legs. Her dress rose up to her mid thigh and, like some schoolboy, I stared a second too long.
My arousal was going to be hard to hide soon. What would she think about making me hard? Would I look as desperate as I felt with a tent in my pants?