Finding Love's Wings (6 page)

"Can I help you?" She says, rather coldly, looking me up and down. There is a hint of unwelcome attitude.

"Where did Mr. Rubble go?"

She raises an eyebrow at me. Looks for a moment like she might try to feign ignorance just so I won’t go after him. Then I watch her quick glance at the drink in my hand and at Jessie behind me, and she appears to be changing her mind. "He left after ordering your drink. I think he went outside."

"Oh.....th-thank you."

I turn to Jessie. "Jessie, can I take this outside and then up to my room, where someone can get it tomorrow?"

"Certainly, Ms. Enders."

"Please, Jessie. Call me Cami."

"Certainly, Cami."

I turn around and begin walking in the direction of the patio. I've only been in my suite and the mall since my arrival, so I'm not entirely sure if I'm heading in the right direction until I push through the doors to find a bright, nearly full moon illuminating everything. I'm momentarily taken aback by the wonderful view of the bleached white sand, the dark waves of the ocean, and the wonderfully sculpted back of Mr. Tristan Michaels.
 

"Bloody hell!" I breathe.

I stand there for a moment, trying desperately to reorganize my now-scattered thoughts and ignore the warm tingling sensation that's beginning to pool between my legs.
 

Staring at the naked back in front of me, I see what appear to be three tattoos standing out against the pale of his skin. I'm unable to make out what they are because he is facing the moon, throwing his back into shadow.
 

Holy crap, not only has Tristan Michaels bought me a drink, but he is standing on the beach, not fifty yards in front of me, half naked and tattooed. Can this be anymore of a dream? I want to pinch myself, just to make sure I'm not dreaming, but decide that this fantasy is best served up just like this. My breathing is quiet but ragged. Tristan damn Michaels is standing on the beach but a mere stone’s throw away from me.

Slowly I force my feet to move forward. As soon as I step into the sand I remember that I'm wearing very expensive high heels. Leaning over, I quickly shed my shoes and stockings, hook them in my free hand, and begin to close the distance between myself and Mr. Michaels.

As I approach and see the muscles of his back tighten, I can't quite think of the best way to introduce myself. Or at the very least, not make an ass of myself.

"Mr. Rubble," I say, with a small smile on my lips, hoping that he will turn around. He doesn't. I can feel my knees beginning to shake, and my heart is pounding against my chest. Am I really going to talk to Tristan Michaels?
 

He doesn't answer, but I can see his shoulders shaking slightly. Is he laughing at me?
 

"Yeah, I guess that's me," he says. His tone is casual, but I notice that his shoulders have yet to relax.
 

I breathe in sharply at the sound of his voice: sensual, deep. A longing, smothered in sexiness. The heat spreads through my entire body.

"Sorry, I don't mean to bother you. I just felt that I should at least say thank you and enjoy this wonderful drink with you."

"That's really not necessary." I smile at the nonchalance in his voice. "I saw you turning away gentleman after gentleman at the bar, usually after they appeared to be trying to order you a drink." He lets out a low chuckle. "Once I noticed the crystal bottle the bartender was pouring your drinks from, it dawned on me that you were drinking beyond their means."
 

Wow, I think, he was really paying attention to what was going on with me. "Sounds like you were a little smitten yourself, watching so closely." I blush. Luckily I'm looking at his backside. His nice, perfectly sculpted back and round derriere are right there.
 

He laughs out loud this time, and wow, that laugh is absolutely panty-busting hot. I feel another jolt of pleasure surges through my bloodstream.
 

"Yeah, I noticed that you were a bit cold, and thought you could use another drink to warm you up."

"Oh! Shit!" I turn as red as a cherry at that, but what the hell – he was the one looking. "I guess I didn't realize it was that cold in the bar."

He laughs again, and this time I join in. My laugh sounds nervous. "Can you turn around? I'm not a fan of speaking to someone's backside, though I'm rather enjoying the view. Are those dragon wings?" My eyes are more accustomed to the moonlight and I'm finally able to make out a few details of his tattoo. They appear to be veined dragon's wings. Drawn in such a way that they seem to be coming out of his back, almost three dimensional. Trailing down his spine and dipping into his shorts appears to be a dragon's spine. Then, as he turns, I see the rest of his tattoo trailing down his right leg: a tail. I shudder. I can't help myself. When it comes to tattoos, I'm a sucker every single time. Especially when they are on such beautiful, tight, muscled, and flawless skin.

As he turns he leans in toward me and whispers, "You can stop staring at my ass now."

"I bet you get that a lot. Though I would imagine it's not just your ass that they're staring at."
 

My mouth falls slack as he completes his rotation. On his left pec there is a dragon head that consumes a large portion of his chest. "Wow! Now I understand why you don't do topless or nude scenes in your movies. Shit..." I cover my mouth quickly, remembering too late that I'm not sure I'm supposed to know who he is.

"Ah!" He lets out a breathy sigh, then looks down at his feet and runs his hand through his hair, looking like he's toying with the idea of fleeing the scene.
 

"I'm sorry, I—I really shouldn't have said that. I didn't really want you to know that I know who you are—"

He raises his hand to cut me off. "Please, it's all right. I should have known that someone, even here, would recognize me. I do hope that you're the only one who's figured this out." He pauses and almost inaudibly continues, "Because after the last two weeks, I really don't wish to cut short my vacation because things get out of hand. I don't get many vacations away from the mainstream, if you know what I mean."

I nod at him, though he doesn't see. I drop my shoes to the sand, and his head jerks up. Extending my hand toward him, I decide introductions are in order. "I'm Cameron Enders. But please, call me Cami."
 

"Hi, Cami" He nonchalantly points to his chest. "Tristan. But then again, you already know that."

I giggle. "Yeah, I did. Sorry. Again."

He shakes his head at me. "Stop, it's all right. I accepted my fame a long time ago. It comes with the territory of being me." He chuckles again.

"That's a good thing, Tristan, believe me. I'm still making failed attempts at coming into my own reality.”

He gives me a quizzical look. "Your own reality?"

"Don't ask. It's a very long and rather uninteresting story to be told another day." Provided I get to see you again after tonight, I add in my head.

"Fair enough, we can discuss another day."

My heart goes pitter-pat at the thought. "So why are you in Tarah?" I ask innocently.
 

He stiffens at my question but responds. "That too is a conversation for another day." He looks at me, almost as if trying to place me somewhere. "What did you say your last name was?"

Oh no. "Enders," I say wistfully. I'm afraid of his response.
 

It takes only a moment before the look of recognition crosses his face. "Cameron Enders, as in Robert Enders?"

Yup, there it is. Fuck! "Please believe that your affiliation with Bold has nothing to do with my coming out here." I take a deep breath. "I came out here because you bought me this fantastic drink. I owed it to you to say thank you and to drink it in your presence."

He looks at the drink in my hand. "What’s wrong with your drink?" he asks. "Don't you like it?"

Crap. "I haven't tried it yet. I was determined to drink it with you, but you left, and I found you out here." Smiling, I raise my glass in a salute and take a sip.
 

Oh holy hell. Before swallowing, I roll it around on my tongue for a moment and then let it slowly slide down my throat. A small moan escapes my mouth. "That is amazing. Thank you. But in the future, please don't feel that you have to buy me such an expensive drink."

"Oh, no worries. I knew that you needed to experience a real Cosmopolitan in order to truly appreciate how good they can be."

"Just seems like a waste of hard-earned money."

"Oh, well yeah, I suppose when you put it that way. I'll keep that in mind." He smiles. Holy hell, that smile is amazing. I flush and look down. "Please..." He places his hand under my chin, lifting it slightly so that I look up into his eyes. "Don't hide your eyes from me. There's nothing to be ashamed of."

I'm suddenly awestruck by his boldness and the tingle that is now rushing through my body from his touch. "I'm sorry, I'm not normally a shy or blushing person. It’s just these last couple of days have beat me up emotionally and, well, all those Cosmos are finally going to my head."

"Believe me, I understand completely. I'm exhausted myself. I'd like to see you finish your Cosmo and retire to my room."
 

Without thinking, I raise the glass to my lips, tilt my head back, and pour the rest of the drink down my throat. I swallow and smile. "Problem solved?" I giggle then because the look of absolute astonishment on his face is comical. "Sorry, I um...told you it was a waste. I'll pay you back."

He shakes his head and laughs. "No need. I would buy you another, just to watch you do that again."

I smile. "Bloody hell"
 

He's still laughing. "I have to admit, that is my favorite expression and I hear a bit of an accent. Are you British?" He asks. No doubt comparing Bobbie and me. Bobbie was far from British.
 

"No. I might as well be, however. I grew up in England, under the care of a matron, then in boarding school in Surrey, England. I only managed to convince my father to let me move home about nine years ago." Wow, what is with my mouth running off with all this full disclosure? "I'm sorry, you don't want to hear all this."
 

"On the contrary, I think I do."
 

I am quickly realizing that I don't know much about him. But I want to know more. A lot more.

"Tristan—. Can I call you that or would you prefer Barney?" I giggle, feeling the alcohol really starting to mess with my brain. And to be honest, I'm not even sure I'm talking properly. I know that I need to leave Tristan to his evening before I make a complete ass out of myself.

He smiles his big, drop-to-your-knees-for-me smile. "Tristan please, Cami."
 

"Tristan, I need you to know, more than anything, that I am not out here because of who you are. I came out here to thank you for the wonderful drink and to say hello. Who you are is who you are. It doesn't matter to me what you do for a living." I take a deep breath. I need a minute to get ahold of myself. Tristan's expression is cool and calm, so I continue. "To be honest, the only reason that I know who you are is because I find you attractive and have always been mesmerized by your image – not the stories – on the covers of the magazines in the grocery checkout aisle and nothing more. I've never seen your movies, and I am not going to fall over and grovel at your feet like some crazed lunatic. You don't need that, and frankly, I would probably be liable to do something really stupid to regret tomorrow..." I’ve lost all the steam I'd built up for my little speech, but there’s just one more thing I need to say. "It's your eyes."

So much for getting ahold of myself.

Oh yes, those eyes. The ice blue penetrating eyes that always seemed to bore into me from the covers that grace all the tabloids and even the respectable magazines. They're staring at me now, dumbfounded at my rant.
 

I decide that it’s time to go.

"I'm sorry, Tristan. I just thought that you should know." I take a deep breath. "I'm staying in room seventy-one twenty-one, and I know that you are staying in the penthouse. If you would like to see me again, you know where to find me. It has been a pleasure, Tristan." I extend my hand again. "I hope to see you soon."
 

He takes my hand and that zing is back. It shoots straight to my heart with a jolt. I've really drank too much tonight. I release his hand. He is slow and reluctant to let go, his eyes locked with mine. For a moment I'm unwilling to let him go, too. The fear of never seeing him again strikes through me.

Realizing that I'm being ridiculous, I pull up my big girl panties, turn, and start to walk away. I feel eyes burning huge holes in the back of my head as I head back to the hotel. I turn my head, just so that I can confirm my suspicions, and smile when I see that he really is watching me walk away. I smile wider when I realize that there is a tent forming at the apex of his thighs.
 

Suddenly feeling bold, I start to sashay my way to the deck of the bar. When I reach the deck, I bend over very slowly to put my heels back on. Ass in the air, I'm able to see between my legs as I buckle up my heels. He is still staring at me, open-mouthed, and I giggle to myself when I see his cock twitch.

PART SEVEN