“No worries, man,” he assured his friend. “I’ve got everything under control.”
Reid’s curse wasn’t very encouraging. “Why do I have a bad feeling about this?”
“No idea. Gotta go.” Jax hit the end button as he pushed off the counter. “My fiancée’s here.”
…
Closing the trunk after extracting her bags, the driver accepted her money and hurriedly returned to his cab without so much as an “Aloha” before peeling away. She coughed from the exhaust and picked up her things to move onto the curb. Weren’t the island people supposed to be friendly and accommodating? Although, she supposed after making him wait for her at the airport and then stop at a little café so she could get a quick bite to eat, the guy had a right to be a little agitated. Still, it’s not like he hadn’t been duly compensated for his time.
What a day. Stranded at the airport, informed she needed to change identities, and stuck with the only surly cabbie in all of Oahu. Not exactly how she imagined her first few hours in one of the most beautiful, carefree places on Earth.
But, she amended, those had been things she couldn’t control. What she could control was how she dealt with her current situation and—
“Hello, sweetheart.”
—him.
Taking a deep breath, Vanessa turned and regarded the thorn in her side. He’d changed out of his surfer duds into something more appropriate for a man who’d supposedly just flown over from the continental forty-eight. His khaki cargo shorts paired with a lightweight white button-up and sandals said casual-and-understated.
So why the hell was she hearing sexy-and-overdressed?
Vanessa’s pulse jumped and goose bumps broke out over her skin despite the balmy weather. Standing as close as he was, he towered over her. The man was simply massive. How in the world did someone so big share the same DNA as her tiny friend?
Getting off to a rocky start with the man didn’t make her blind. He was easily one of the most gorgeous men she’d ever seen. Too bad he so obviously broke several of her rules. Hell, if she were being honest, she’d bet he broke almost all of them.
Jackson bent down to pick up her duffel bag, and on the way back up, leaned in to press a warm kiss to her cheek. At the unexpected intimacy, she sucked in a breath and almost pulled away, but his soft words of warning held her in place. “Remember who we are here. If you accuse me of sexual harassment, there’s a good chance it’ll blow our cover.”
His low chuckle both liquefied her insides and made her blood boil. His infectious smile tempted the corners of her mouth to lift up the slightest bit, though she ordered them to hold firm. To save face, she went with it, widening her grin and telling him in the sweetest voice she could muster, “Don’t worry about me, darling, I have stellar acting skills in the courtroom. But if I were you, I’d worry about how thick you lay it on, because if you take advantage of this situation, you’ll have to worry about what I’ll do to your manhood once we’re behind closed doors instead.”
He raised his left eyebrow, which had a jagged white scar running diagonally through it, giving his good looks a rakish edge. Though she knew her appearance was nothing short of atrocious at this point, his eyes skimmed over her body like she’d been dipped in his favorite candy. Maybe the aloof Prince of Tides wasn’t as unaffected by her as he’d like her to think.
“Looking forward to it, princess,” he said, smirking in amusement and giving her a wink before walking into the lobby.
What was wrong with this guy? He should be backing down, talking her down, or at the very least, toning it down. One of those downs. That’s what any normal male would do when his junk was threatened. Maybe he was into masochism. That thought perked her up. A closet masochist would effectively douse any sparks of desire that may or may not be going off somewhere deep inside her every time he turned those light eyes on her.
Feeling better already, Vanessa grabbed the handle of her suitcase and wheeled it behind her along the tiled entrance of the lobby. Jackson stood at the front desk speaking with an exotically pretty woman who handed him an envelope of paperwork and two key cards with a smile that probably won her customer service awards.
“There’s my lovely bride,” Jackson announced as he put an arm around her waist and pulled her into his side.
“Bride-to-be, dear,” she said with a fake look of happiness frozen on her face. “I’m not officially your bride yet.” Then, before she could stop herself, she added, “And anything can happen between now and then.”