Compromised in Paradise (Compromise Me 3)

The doors slid open, and she disappeared behind gleaming glass and fancy calligraphy proclaiming the rarified domain beyond as a St. Sebastian resort. He glanced at the clock again. He could make it to the hospital on time without pushing the speed limit if he left now. Like, now. His foot already rested on the gas pedal, but he pictured her stumbling on the stairs or along the path, and ended up catching the valet’s eye and getting the go-ahead. He left the keys in the ignition and jogged into the lobby. A quick scan brought him to a skidding halt, and then, as he watched, the Czarina peeled herself off some dark-haired guy in a tailored suit and stood in the circle of his arms like she belonged there while they smiled at each other and the rest of the room disappeared.

His gut tightened as unfamiliar aggression took root. What kind of a dickhead wore a suit at a resort in Maui?

They exchanged a few more words before Dickhead planted a kiss on her cheek. She gave him one last squeeze and then retreated across the lobby toward the ladies’ room. Dickhead said something to a resort employee hovering nearby and then turned so Nick saw him head-on, and…fuck. He recognized the guy.

A scalding wave of emotions he barely recognized swept over him. Anger—and he rarely got angry. Jealousy—and he never got jealous. He played things loose and casual. No attachments. No drama. And yet he found himself in motion, striding across the lobby to confront Rafe St. Sebastian—recently engaged hotel magnate—for putting his lips on the woman who’d been coming in his arms an hour ago. He tried to tell himself it was the recently engaged part that compelled him to interfere, and not the coming-in-his-arms part.

As if sensing his approach, St. Sebastian looked up from checking his phone. His neutral expression sharpened into recognition. One dark brow lifted in a strangely familiar gesture Nick couldn’t quite pin down. “Dr. Bancroft. To what do we owe this visit? Another flu outbreak?”

His reasons for being here were none of Rafe’s business. “I understand from my aunt that congratulations are in order. On your engagement.”

The douchebag didn’t even have the decency to look guilty. He simply smiled and said, “Thanks. I’m a lucky man.”

“Determined to press your luck, apparently.”

The smile disappeared, replaced by a look of confusion. “How so?”

What a piece of work—no shame whatsoever. “What would Chelsea think of you kissing another woman?”

St. Sebastian stared at him for a moment, and then the confusion cleared. “Ah.” Now his expression turned infuriatingly amused. “I’m sure she’d appreciate you looking out for her, but I doubt she’d mind me kissing my sister.”

The anger fueling his confrontational impulse dissipated as quickly as it formed. “Your sister?” As soon as he said the words, several things hit him all at once. Same hair. Same eyes. Same brow raise. Suddenly, he felt like a jackass. But then something else hit him. Rafe’s sister was Arden St. Sebastian, his Saturday night setup. The woman who wanted him to reacquaint her with at-will orgasms planned to spend Saturday night dining with Dr. Nick Bancroft. If things went well, did she plan to test out her newfound proficiency with him?

Granted, him was him, but knowing as much didn’t help, because she didn’t know. And yes, after six days enjoying the exclusive right to touch her, pleasure her to the fullest, he expected her to fly home and move on with her life, but for some reason knowing she planned to move on even before boarding a goddamn plane left him feeling—fuck it—betrayed.

“Give Chelsea my best,” he managed, turned on his heel, and walked out. The czarina—Arden—would be in good hands with Rafe, and he needed to get out of there before he did something stupid, like confront her for…what? Using him? Hell, he’d signed up to be used. He’d hatched the idea himself.

Definitely he was going to have to call his aunt and back out of the setup, because the czarina would not appreciate having this game they’d started cross the boundaries she’d drawn and show up in her real life. She might take a six-day sexual adventure with a guy she met in a bar, but their deal involved him returning to outer space when it ended, not showing up on a blind date arranged by their families.

The Jeep sat in the drive where he’d left it. He started the engine and faced the irony of his situation. The easygoing guy who never got jealous was suddenly and undeniably jealous. Of himself.

Chapter Eight

Arden sat across from Rafe at a table in the lounge, devouring eggs Benedict—because the best motherfucking sunrise in Maui left a girl ravenous—and thanking God her date for this morning’s outing hadn’t walked her into the hotel. She didn’t want real life complicating this temporary escape she had with him, and her brother’s unexpected presence would have done it. Rafe would have insisted on introductions, not to mention fingerprints and a full background check after what had happened with the last guy she’d dated.

Bullet dodged, mercifully, because what would she have said? Hey, meet my brother, Rafe. Rafe, meet the man helping me get my groove back. I wish I could tell you more but I don’t know his real name.

The offhand thought gave her pause. Do you wish you knew his name? You’re thinking like a woman who wants to stay in touch. That’s not part of the plan. Remember?

She did remember. She absolutely did. They had their rules for good reasons. Reinforcing her resolve, she turned her attention to Rafe. “What are you doing here?”

“Technically, I work here.”

“You know what I mean. I thought you were headed to Sydney this week.”

He nodded. “I am. I’m here for a few hours on a personal errand, and then I’ll continue on to Sydney.”

“A personal errand like checking up on me?”

“Why would I need to check up on you, Arden?”

“I have no idea,” she countered, unwilling to acknowledge anything. “But there’s no other reason I can think of for you to be here.”

“There are seven million reasons, all wrapped up in a property I’m considering buying as a surprise for Chelsea. I have a meeting this afternoon with the seller’s rep to look it over. You’re welcome to come see it with me.”

His explanation sounded plausible. He and his fiancée, Chelsea, loved the island, and Rafe wanted to find the perfect wedding gift. “How is your bride-to-be?”

“Good. She sends her love.” He drank his coffee and eyed her over the rim. “How was the sunrise on Mount Haleakala?”