Private Paradise (8 page)

He pushed himself through his fifth set of
sit ups and stayed seated on the mat, picked up his bottle and
squirted water into his mouth. His breath came so fast and loud he
didn't hear the door to the fitness center open.

“
Oh, you're here.”

He didn't even need to turn and look to see
who it was. The charge of electricity that traveled down his spine
to zap him in the balls was enough. Still, Sam pushed himself to
his feet and turned to greet her.

Carla hesitated in the doorway as he drank in
the sight of her. Her face was scrubbed clean of makeup, her hair
pulled into a tight pony tail. Knee length black pants stretched
tight over her tight, toned thighs and mouthwateringly firm ass,
and a bright orange lycra tank top clung to the lush curves of her
breasts and the flat plane of her stomach, leaving her tanned, well
defined arms bare.

She glanced at the watch strapped to her slim
wrist. “You're usually gone by now.”

So, she was keeping tabs on his gym time. To
make sure she didn't run into him? Interesting.

Sam grabbed a towel from the stack near the
cardio equipment and used it to wipe his face and neck. “I usually
am, but I felt like going a little longer this morning.”

Needed to, was more like it, especially after
the dream he'd had in the small hours of the morning, a variation
on the same one he'd had every night since he'd arrived. Him and
Carla naked, skin to skin, kissing, touching, his fingers sliding
between her legs to find her pussy soaked with a need that matched
his. Him sliding his cock against the smooth skin of her inner
thighs as she spread them, the pink folds of her pussy parted and
wet, waiting for him to come inside.

He always woke up at that point, his dick in
is own hand as he writhed in an agony of lust and the need to get
inside of her, to know once and for all what it would feel like to
have Carla's tight, wet pussy take him all the way inside.

He felt the familiar stirrings at the memory
and dropped the hand holding the towel in front of his crotch
before he sprung a full tent pole in his shorts. He found her
watching him, color high on her cheeks, her plump bottom lip caught
between her teeth as her eyes tracked him from the top of his sweat
damp head, down the front of his sleeveless work out shirt, now
drenched from exertion.

Lingering on the towel draped oh so casually
in front of the raging hard on he'd sprung the second she walked in
the room.

Her dark eyes went hot, just for a second,
but it was just enough to let him know that maybe she wasn't as
indifferent as she wanted him to think.

“
I―I don't want to disturb you,” she
said, her voice a little breathless like it used to get when she
was about to come.

Sam smiled and walked to the water cooler, in
the opposite direction of her and the door. “The place is a
thousand square feet,” he said. “I can't imagine how you'll disturb
me.”

Still, she hesitated, and though she tried
there was no hiding her discomfort. He walked over to a leg
extension machine and started a set, surreptitiously watching as
she seemed to draw herself up. Flashing him a tight smile, she
stalked over to the line of elliptical machines that overlooked the
clear blue waters of the sea. She propped what looked like an
e-reader on the front, put her ear buds in and fiddled with her
iPod. Within seconds, her legs and arms were pumping in a steady
rhythm.

Sam's arms and legs were already twitching
with exertion, but he finished his leg lifts and did three more
full treadmill-pull up-push up-sit up circuits. He watched as the
wispy hairs on the back of her neck curled up as the skin there got
damp with sweat. He could see droplets of sweat beading on her
upper back, above the scoop of her tank top and on her shoulders.
He wanted to pin her to the mat and chase every single one with his
tongue.

She did a good job of pretending to tune him
out, but Sam could feel the heat of her gaze on him as he worked
through his routine. Finally she got off the elliptical and went
over to the racks of hand weights lined up against the wall.

Carla was as no nonsense about her workout as
she was about everything else in her life, Sam noted as he watched
her work her way through a series of exercises that targeted her
arms, shoulders, and back. She treated her workout with a quiet
intensity, and the sleek muscles undulating under smooth skin were
evidence of her dedication.

Sam wandered over in her direction, his
reflection visible in the mirrors lining the walls. Carla stared
straight ahead, seemingly focused on her own form as she lunged to
the side and rested her elbow on her knee for a set of bicep
curls.

Sam had left his towel draped over the
railing of the treadmill and he tugged the hem of his shirt up to
wipe his face.

He knew Carla was watching when she let out
an audible gasp. He lowered his shirt and met her shocked gaze in
the mirror. She straightened up, the dumbbell momentarily forgotten
in her right hand. “Oh my God, is that from a bullet?”

He knew she was referring to the thick,
puckered scar that stood out white against the otherwise tanned
flesh of his chest.

“
Yep. Took a hit when I was on a job in
Colombia.”

Carla turned to face him and took a step
toward him. The blank expression of the past week was gone as her
dark brows drew together in a look of deep concern.

The same look she'd worn, he remembered, the
day his father had shown up, insulted Carla, and then demanded
money from Sam. Back then, it had made him feel sick to his
stomach, convinced as he was that she was pitying him.

Now, it brought a rush of warmth and a pinch
of regret to see the sincere concern in her eyes. For all her ball
busting and type A focus on moving ahead, Carla had the same big
heart and generous spirit as her cousin Chris. She'd cared about
him once, and now he wanted to go back in time and kick his own ass
for being too stupid to deal with the intensity of what was
happening between them.

“
Was that when you were in the army?”
she asked softly, her gaze lingering on the spot on his chest,
though it was now covered by his shirt.

He gave a quick shake of his head. “No, it
was a couple years after I started up with Argus. I was part of a
team hired to protect the president of one of the oil companies and
his family. There was an assassination attempt.”

“
And you jumped in front of the
bullet?” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes wide with a
combination what looked like horror and admiration.

Sam felt his face heat and was glad he had
the excuse of the tough workout to hide his flush. “It was part of
the job,” he said uncomfortably. “One I was very well paid to
do.”

Her eyes flickered to his face. “I guess I
can see why you needed a break. Holley Cay has its challenges, but
so far no assassination attempts.”

He his mouth pulled into a grin. “The
surroundings are a little mellower, but I'd say this position has
turned out to be intense in its own way.” He'd been in some of the
worst hell holes on earth, but nothing had ever thrown him farther
out of whack than having to control himself around Carla every
single day.

As though they had a will of their own, his
eyes traveled from Carla's face, down the tan column of her throat
where he could see the flutter of her pulse beating under her
skin.

Down the smooth expanse of skin exposed by
her tank top, to where just a hint of deep cleavage peaked over the
scoop neck. As his gaze traveled lower he saw her nipples stood in
hard points against the slick fabric. Carla gave a little shiver,
though the gym was anything but cold..

Sam took a step closer, slow and easy like
she was a wild animal that would vanish into the forest if he moved
too fast. She was smart to see him as predator, he thought
bitterly, given the way he'd taken her down before.

“
Is that the only time you were
wounded?” she asked.

He shook his head and moved closer, close
enough to smell the floral scent of her shampoo which made his
pulse beat in his cock. He turned so his back was to her and tugged
one leg of his gym shorts up his thigh to show her the webbing of
scars that criss-crossed the skin that stretched over the back of
his right hamstring.

“
That was from a IED that hit our
convoy in Iraq. It was so hot the skin of my thigh melted into the
seat.”

He looked over his shoulder to gage her
reaction and saw that she had one hand covering her mouth as her
eyes stared at the ropy flesh. “And right up here,” he said as he
tugged his shirt up his back and pointed to his left shoulder
blade. “See that?”

“
You mean that thing that looks like a
dent?” She stepped closer, apparently too mesmerized to worry about
keeping her distance.

“
That's from when a Taliban soldier
took a chunk out of me with a knife.”

“
Oh, my God,” she whispered and reached
to brush her fingers over the divot carved out of his
skin.

He barely repressed a groan at the soft brush
of her fingers. “Trust me,” he said, tugging his shirt back down
before he completely lost it, “he got the worse end of the
deal.”

He turned and found Carla staring at him like
she didn't quite know who he was.

“
What?” he asked.

She shook her head, her eyes roaming over his
face and body like she was trying to absorb every new detail. “It's
just so hard for me to imagine, what it must have been like, what
you went through. Those burns, the scars, it must have been so
painful―”

“
I got off easy,” he cut her off. “By
the time I ripped my leg off the seat and pulled my buddy from the
humvee, he had third degree burns over ninety percent of his body.
The driver's leg was blown off and he bled out on the ground. A
little pain and a couple of scars are pretty puny in
comparison.”

She cocked her head to one side, her full
lips quirked in a thoughtful half smile. “This from the guy who
used to try to get out of the afternoon shift at the marina every
chance he got.”

He felt the little kick of shame at the
reminder, part of him wondering how she'd ever fallen for him in
the first place, given what a little asshole he'd been. “People
change, grow up. It took me a while but I realized I couldn't go
through life acting like an immature little fuck, charming my way
through life, too scared to let anyone get close.”

He saw her throat bob as she swallowed hard.
“Do you expect me to believe you've changed so completely?”

“
I've just grown up enough to man up
and take responsibility for my life and my mistakes, and not to be
afraid to go after what I want.” He closed the distance between
them, until his shirt front brushed hers. She had to tip her head
back to keep eye contact. Her eyes were dark and liquid, her lips
softly parted. He lifted his hand and cupped her neck, brushed his
thumb along the delicate line of her jaw. “And a lot of what I
want,” he whispered as he bent his head to hers, “hasn't changed a
whole lot in the past eleven years.”

Her dark lashes fluttered closed and he heard
her sharp inhale as he bent his lips to hers. Shockwaves sizzled
through him at the first brush.

“
Carla, are you in here?”

She jumped about three feet at the sound of
Bryce's voice echoing through the gym. Sam stifled a groan and
fought not to grab her by her ponytail and drag her back to his
apartment to finish this.

“
I'm over here, by the weights,” Carla
called out as she turned and practically ran in the direction of
Bryce's voice. The fitness center was laid out in an L design with
the free weights section in the back corner between the walls
shared by the yoga and pilates studios, and thank the universe it
wasn't visible from the main entry.

That's all she needed, was for Bryce, who had
already been giving her a hard time about what he saw as the
undeniable chemistry between her and Sam, to see her in a liplock
with the man she'd sworn up and down she had absolutely no
lingering feelings for despite what she had described as a brief
and meaningless teenage fling.

Not to mention, Sam was her employee. Even if
they hadn't shared a tumultuous past, there was no way in hell
she'd make the mistake of getting involved with a co-worker at
Holley Cay. She still bore the scars from the last time around.

By the time she got to Bryce she was only
slightly out of breath her heart still pounding and radiating
heat.

“
Thank God you're here,” Bryce said.
His frosted hair was spiked and today he accessorized his Holley
Cay Polo with a teal blue ascot.

His gaze flicked past her shoulder. Carla
heard Sam's heavy footsteps behind her, but she didn't dare turn to
look. Every nerve ending was tingling, and the heavy pulse between
her thighs made it difficult to think. “What's so important you
couldn't wait for me to get to the office?”

Instead of answering, Bryce gave her an
assessing look. “You're all flushed.”

Carla felt her already hot face get hotter.
“I've been working out.”

Bryce's gaze flicked from her, to Sam, and
back, his eyes narrowing in a way that said he didn't believe her
for a second. “Have you looked at the weather reports this
morning?”

Carla shook her head. She'd had a cup of
coffee to jolt her awake and come straight here, only taking the
time to check the clock to make sure she didn't intersect with Sam,
who usually finished up by six fifteen or so.

But not this morning, she thought as another
wave of heat coursed through her.