Zander trekked through the sand of Mariposa Island, toward the boat, with Effie at his side, conflict raging inside. He wanted to bring Effie back to the island, again and again. But that fucking contract and his fucking secrets and his fucking ex with all her insanity hung like a noose around his neck.
Trisha had wiggled past the terms of their “don’t ever get near me again” contract with him by showing up in his world on Bryant’s arm. Zander doubted she’d told Bryant any of her sick past with him.
And then she assaulted Effie. What else might she try?
“You okay?” Effie said. She looked up at him with her impossibly beguiling gaze.
He smiled. “I’m fine. I haven’t seen my family for a while. I’m going to miss them.”
“Me, too,” she said, giving his hand a squeeze. “They’re lovely. You’re lucky to have such an awesome family.”
I’d like you to be a part of it. Zander chewed on his lower lip instead of giving voice to such treacherous feelings. But, first I need to deal with Trisha. Maybe we can press charges for her attack of Effie? No. Fuck. I know the way she thinks. She’ll say she slipped, or some bullshit and her lawyers will lock down her defense with lies.
They climbed on the catamaran and headed toward Key West.
Zander felt all twitchy on the boat ride across the water. A mixture of contentment at seeing his family and introducing them to Effie wrestled with his desire to make something permanent with her. Still scarred by Trisha, his mind kept circling back to What if she doesn’t want something permanent with me? Then, his thoughts changed into, Maybe I’m fooling myself. Maybe this is perfect just the way it was…a contract that helped heal us both. She’ll be gone and then I can be certain Trisha never harms a hair on her head.
Resolved, he reached for her hand and held it the rest of the way.
Once they docked in Key West, Jorge led them to his limo and drove them to Tony’s restaurant.
Tony, a dark-haired stocky looking man dressed in slacks and a short-sleeved shirt, greeted him personally at the door of his seaside restaurant. “Zander King. Tony De Luca.” He extended his hand.
Zander shook it. “This is my…” my what? “This is my date, Effie D’Archangel.”
“Miss D’Archangel,” Tony said, lifting her hand to his lips. He gave it a soft kiss, then said, “Sei incantevole.”
Effie glanced at Zander.
“He said you’re enchanting,” Zander said. “You are.”
A blush formed on her lovely cheeks.
“Right this way,” Tony said. “Whatever you want to have tonight is yours. Let this be the night of nights.”
If only that were true. Wistfulness filled Zander’s heart.
Tony led them to a private dining area that overlooked the sea. He held out a chair for Effie at the white-tablecloth covered table.
A single rose perched in a white vase.
She settled in her chair, looking across at Zander with such a tender expression, he could barely breathe.
Zander took his seat.
Outside, the sky appeared dusky with the promise of sunset.
“What can I get you while you look at the menu?”
“Whiskey, neat,” Zander said. “What would you like Effie?”
“Not sure,” she said, casting her gaze toward her lap.
“Do you like wine, Ms. D’Archangel?”
She lifted her face toward Tony. “Yes.”
“I have a Masseto that’s divine.” He kissed his fingertips. “It’s one of the best Italian wines available. Can I bring you a taste?”
“Yes, please,” she said, smiling.
“Excellent.” Tony beamed.
A few minutes later Tony returned with their drink order. He placed them on the table and said, “Your waiter will be right in. I’d take him up on the specials. Eat to your heart’s content. Tonight is a night for amore.” His eyes sparkled as he looked knowingly at Zander. “Enjoy,” he said, sweeping the air with his palm. Then, he turned and strode away, closing the door to their dining area.
“Of course. Amore,” Zander said with forced enthusiasm. His heart grew heavy. He wanted the night to be about love. Instead, it seemed to be another fantasy…an unfinished story that should have been so beautiful.
Swallowing back his sorrow, Zander lifted his glass and gazed into Effie’s eyes. “This trip has meant the world to me. Thank you.”
She swallowed. “Thank you, too.” She sipped her wine.
He took a drink of his whiskey, then let his eyes linger on her beautiful throat and shoulders. He wanted to memorize how she looked…to capture it in his soul as a reminder of…of what, exactly? What could have been?
Effie turned her attention out the window.
“This is so beautiful.”
Her gaze tracked the ocean view outside the window. She reached for her wine glass and sipped her Masseto.
“Not as beautiful as you,” he said.
She straightened her blue and white place-mat, her mouth pursed in a rosebud. “Zander, I…”
“What?” He eyed her speculatively.
The waiter interrupted, saying, “May I share our specials for tonight?”
“Of course,” Zander said, before lifting his white linen napkin from the side of his plate, shaking it out with a snap, and placing it in his lap.
Effie did the same.
The waiter blah blahed through his spiel, while Zander simmered with his tortured thoughts.
Several minutes after their order had been placed, another waiter, a redheaded woman, arrived with their appetizers—Mussels steamed in white wine, lemon, and garlic. In her free hand, she held tongs and a silver spoon.
“Can I get you anything else? More wine for you, miss?” the skinny waiter said.
“No, thank you,” Effie said, smiling.
He hurried away, and the redhead sat the plate of mussels on the center of the table. She deftly used the silver tongs to place a few mussels onto small blue appetizer plates, then gently rested one plate in front of Effie and the other in front of Zander. Then, she used the spoon to scoop some of the broth from the bowl and drizzle it on the mussels. With a curt nod, she departed.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had mussels before,” Effie said. “How does this work?”
Zander smiled. “Well, you take this small fork…” He lifted his outer fork.
She picked her fork up, holding it high in her slender fingers.
“Ready with my tool,” she said, chuckling.
“Then, you pick up a mussel shell.” He plucked one off the plate.
She selected one of the inky dark shells in front of her. She held it before her kissable mouth. “And?”
He inserted the fork into the shell. “Spear the meat inside.”
She speared, lifting the morsel toward her luscious lips.
The fragrant broth juices dripped onto her plate.
“Dip it in the broth and eat it. The shell goes into the bowl.” He tipped his head back and inserted the forked meat. “Mmm.”
She studied him intently, her blue eyes dark.
“I think I can do that.” She dipped the mussel into the delicious-smelling broth and tipped her head back, opening her mouth.
Zander swallowed. His cock twitched. Damn, she’s sexy. His tongue darted over his lips as she slowly lowered the fork to her mouth.
She brought her lips together, closed her eyes and moaned. “Mmm. This is exquisite.”
Jesus. His erection pulsed inside his slacks. “You can also try this technique.”
She opened her eyes and studied him with a feverish gaze. “I’m listening.”
“Pick up the shell, bring it to your lips, and suck the tender flesh.” His cock grew rigid inside his pants.
He let his tongue flick the mussel as if it were Effie’s clit.
“Oh, God, Zander,” she said, fanning herself with her hand.
A slow smile crossed his face. “First you flick and then you suck.” He slurped the meat into his mouth. “Mmm.” He savored the mussel, then said, “Your turn.”
A matching smile spread across her beautiful face. “I see. First, I flick.” She held a mussel shell in front of her sumptuous lips. Her pink tongue slid from between her teeth, and she lapped at the flesh.
“Jesus Christ,” Zander said, his cock throbbing inside his pants. He straightened his trousers, then pressed his palms against the table.
“And, then, when the flesh is engorged, I suck.” She placed her mouth at the opening of the shell and sucked.
“God damn, I don’t think I’m going to last at this rate,” Zander said.
Effie kicked her shoe off under the table and placed her foot on his crotch.
Zander hissed.
She set the shell down, and let her head fall back.
“Oh, God, this is the best one yet,” she moaned. “Mmm. Mm-hmm.”
Zander felt ready to come on the spot. Placing his hand on the foot that sat between his legs, he blinked a few times and said, “I think you’ve mastered this one.”
She laughed. “What next, oh, great teacher?” She rubbed her foot up and down his length. “This is only the first course, is it not?”
An intrusive ding came from her purse.
“Are you going to check that?” he said.
“Whatever it is, it can wait. The only person who ever texts me is Haley. She’ll understand.”
They finished their seductive mussel dish and proceeded to the lobster bisque brought out by the waitstaff, followed by broiled lobsters, glistening with butter and fragrant with garlic. By the time they got to the chocolate mousse, Zander was ready to lock the doors, lay Effie out on the table, and fuck her hard.
As he gazed down at the mousse in front of him, he opened his mouth to beg her to be with him. Fuck contract language and his own goddamned insecurities. He wanted to take a chance with Effie and explore every possibility of finding true love.
She interrupted him. “I want to ask you something.”
“What is it?” He smiled, promising the world to her.
“Our contract is nearly over.” She inhaled sharply. Tears filled her eyes. “I’m going to miss you so much. Are you sure we have to end what we started?”
He should have said something like, “Hell, no, not what I want,” or, “Where would you like our relationship to go? Because I’d like so much more.” Instead, he sat, stupefied, like an oncoming train headed in his direction at a million miles an hour. Answer her, idiot. Give her the declaration of love and wanting something more.
Trisha flashed through his brain, saying, “What makes you think she wants you? You’re still nothing but a cripple. I’ll bet she feels sorry for you.” Then, a more sinister thought apprehended his brain. He imagined Trisha saying, “She’s a dead woman, Zan, if she thinks she’ll be with you.”
He pursed his lips and said, “What do you mean?”
Her eyebrows lifted. “It’s a simple question. We’ve gone far off the rails from the sugar baby, sugar daddy dynamic…from our contract with all its rules.”
A killer, meant-to-seduce smile crossed her gorgeous face, blinding him.
He couldn’t risk losing her to Trisha’s insanity. He had to get Trisha out of the way before any declarations of love.
His cock begged to differ. Ever since the appetizers, it had been straining so hard against his slacks he figured his pants were split in the front or would be soon. His heart was another matter. To say it ached was an understatement.
Another ding came from Effie’s phone. She frowned. Three more dings followed. Her frown deepened.
“Sorry for the buzz kill. I should have turned it off. I’m not used to being texted a lot.” She flashed him a saucy grin.
“Go ahead and check it. It could be important.” And this gives me time to collect my thoughts. He lifted his wine glass to his lips and drained it.
She plucked her purse from its perch on the chair back and fished inside for her phone. When she scanned the screen, her thumb moved fast and furious, apparently scrolling through a lot of messages.
She lifted her gaze to look at him. Her eyes were as wide as the moon outside the window. “Oh no.”
“What’s wrong? What is it?” He grabbed his phone from his shirt pocket, ready to call 911 or a lawyer or someone else to fix whatever had distressed her.
“Zander, look…” She held the screen up to him.
He snatched it out of her hand. All the sexy banter and the confusion at his inability to answer her question and the declarations of love he’d wanted to share emptied from his body. He stared, in horror, at the TMZ news piece, showing him and Effie at the sugar baby ball.
Exclusive! He read. Did you think it was true love? Think again. Zander’s play toy is his sugar baby! So THAT’s how she pays for her pricey education.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. It’s just gossip, Effie. Don’t pay it any mind.” He looked at Effie’s face, drained of all color.
She kept stared through him, her eyes glazed.
“Baby, we can fix this,” he said, his eyes drawn back to the screen display in his hand. The next headline slammed into him like a punch to the stomach.
We’ve got the exclusive. What really happened to the TrishBitch and the God of the Wall? You’re not going to believe how it ended. Stay tuned for the full, exclusive story.
He slumped in his seat, pinching the bridge of his nose. Oh, my fucking God. My secret’s about to be revealed. And Trisha’s no doubt to be blamed. She wants war? She’s going to get it.