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I could tell I had shocked her.
“Wow. I would have thought you too much of a playboy, the kind of man who needed servants at all hands. You know, the ‘don’t get your hands dirty’ type.”
“Didn’t anyone ever tell you don’t judge a book by its cover?”
“Yes, but often it’s easy to tell what a person is like by the smarmy meter.”
“Smarmy meter?” I rounded the bend and slowed down, allowing her to take in the view. “Gorgeous. Eh?”
“Yes, it is and it’s a gauge my friends and I use when we meet men.”
“Hmm. What does that include?”
“Well, clothes. Aftershave. Shoes. A telling statement of a man. His watch. His swagger. His car.”
“So, you and your friends are looking for rich men?”
She laughed with that lilt that could drive me crazy. “Hasn’t anyone ever told you that money isn’t everything? No, we’re looking for a friend, a lover. Someone we can grow old with.”
“Uh-huh.”
“That’s what we say. We’ve learned that sadly, the perfect guy doesn’t exist,” she mused but smiled as the bungalow came into view. With there being two main portions of the house, one sitting on stilts in the water, the other being on land, the location offered the best of everything anyone could find enjoyable in a tropical setting. “And yes, often a book can be judged directly by its cover or as we like to say, the bullshit façade.”
“Well then, not only are your standards too high,” I told her as I parked away from the beach, immediately cutting the engine. “But I guess I labeled you correctly.”
“From icing?”
Laughing, I jumped out, immediately grabbing the bags from the backseat. “Buttoned up and needing unraveling.”
“Why did you think that?”
Closing the door, I leaned in, giving her a daring look. “It looks like you’re not the only one doing a little recon. Come on. Let’s get settled so I can show you around.”
“Recon? Are you serious?” She threw herself out of the Jeep, storming toward me as only the fiery woman could do.
“Deadly. When it comes to both business and pleasure, I play to win. Haven’t you already figured that out?”
I didn’t bother waiting for her, although I sensed she was still close to the Jeep, likely with her arms folded stubbornly. After climbing the stairs and tossing the bags onto the deck, I jerked out my keys. Another whiff of her perfume that perpetually stained my skin wafted into my nostrils.
Damn it. My cock was hard already.
Blue balls were a real thing.
After opening the door and finding the switch for several of the overhead LED lights, I finally turned around. She was standing right where I thought she’d be, glaring at me through her dark shades. Even in her little shorts and tank top, her outline was freaking beautiful.
“You might want to see your prison, baby. It’s up to you.” I threw it out, unable to help myself.
I could almost hear her cursing from where I stood but at least my taunt had gotten her moving. The place had been refreshed as my brothers and I required, complete with the ceiling fans already going and the main door leading to the private deck open to allow the ocean breeze to come in.
I’d forgotten how much I enjoyed being both here and in the one near St. Thomas. But this one was likely my favorite. Maybe because I enjoyed exploring the French side of St. Martin so much. She wasn’t stomping up the stairs like I’d expected her to. She’d just appeared like a breath of fresh air.
Or maybe now I should call her a barracuda.
She skirted around me, moving into the center of the living room. We’d had every design similar for the bungalows with the bedrooms being the center of attention in the water. Not that there wasn’t a two-hundred-and-eighty-degree view of the ocean with the other.
I’d asked one of the staff to grab a few island dresses and a couple of bikinis from one of our posh shops given I’d had a feeling Selena wouldn’t dare bring anything sexy. Although I did hope she’d brought a few of the recent underwear purchases I’d made for her.
Even if I planned on ripping off every thong with my teeth.
