Four Beautiful Letters (Desire Island 4)

“Fuck,” he swore softly. “Sophia.”

He tapped the phone’s screen to wake it up. There were no missed calls or text messages. Should he text her? Was it too late?

Maybe she was still up. Maybe she was down at a party on the beach. Or maybe she’d hooked up with someone else…

He blew out a breath, shaking his head at the thought. He had no claims on Sophia. They’d only known each other for a couple of days. But what a couple of days! He couldn’t remember ever connecting with someone so quickly or so completely as he had with Sophia.

If only work hadn’t gotten in the way.

Which reminded him…

He pulled the laptop closer and tapped a key to see if anyone had responded. While crunching a new set of numbers to try and salvage the Cabot deal, he’d also called and emailed various potential investors who might be willing to come in at the last minute to cover the shortfall left by the skittish bankers who’d baled on them.

“Yes,” he cried triumphantly, seeing the email reply with the subject line: Count me in! Maybe he could save this deal yet.

He opened the email, read it and began to type…

The next time he opened his eyes, he was in the bed, or rather, on top of it, still fully clothed. The sun was streaming in through the glass, the sky a sparkling blue. He sat up abruptly, pushing his hair from his eyes.

His phone was beside the bed. He grabbed it and tapped the screen. It was 10:22 in the morning—over twelve hours since he’d said he’d text Sophia ASAP. What an ass he was. He’d let work get in the way of his vacation, damn it.

At least he’d saved the Cabot deal. Or rather, he’d gotten enough ducks in a row, if they all swam fast enough, to keep it afloat for the time being.

Thumbs poised, he quickly shot off a text.

“Good morning, Sophia! I’m so, so sorry I didn’t text last night. I got insanely involved in trying to salvage this deal, and then I must have conked out. I just this second woke up. You still around? Can you forgive me? Want to meet for late breakfast? Early lunch? Skip food and head straight to the dungeon? Xxxooo”

He hit send and then stared at the screen nearly a full minute, willing her to reply.

The screen remained blank, the text unread.

“Fuck,” he breathed, hoisting himself off the bed.

He shucked his clothing as he headed toward the bathroom. He turned on the shower and then used the toilet and brushed his teeth. Before climbing into the stall, he checked his cell once more.

Blank as a slate. Silent as a tomb.

He stood under the hot spray for a while, letting it pummel his head and shoulders. Then he soaped up, rinsed and climbed out. As he dried himself, he reached for the phone. No missed texts or calls.

While he was shaving, the phone dinged. Dropping the razor, face still half-covered in shaving cream, he grabbed it and tapped the screen. A text from Sophia!

“Yes, I forgive you. :-) Sorry, can’t meet until this evening. Not knowing if/when I’d hear from you, I made other plans… See you at dinner around seven?”

Whew—she forgave him, and had even included a smiley face. But other plans? That sounded ominous. Did those other plans involve other guys? Not that he should be surprised—or even upset. After all, he was the one who’d dropped the ball. He could use the time to make a few more calls and to walk Brian through some things he needed for him to handle.

He typed back, “Dinner sounds great. And what about after? You up for some sensory deprivation play?”

This time her response was immediate. “Always! What did you have in mind?”

“I have something diabolically delicious in mind…” he texted, grinning. “You want to hear it now, or should I surprise you?”

“Oooh… I love surprises,” she texted back.

“Excellent. See you at seven.”

Sophia looked both sexy and adorable in a low-cut red top over a long, flowing skirt, her unruly curls framing a face kissed by the sun. She was hard to pin down, style-wise, sometimes appearing in fetish-wear, other times, like tonight, in hippy-chic. It was another thing Nick liked about her—she was her own woman.

He rose from the table as she approached him, relieved to see she was smiling. When he held out his arms, she stepped into them. He pulled her close, enjoying the feel of her soft, unfettered breasts against his chest.

They sat as a wait person appeared to take Sophia’s drink order. Once he had left them, Nick asked lightly, “So, what have you been doing all day?”

“I went surfing,” she replied.

Nick raised his brows. “Really? I had no idea you knew how to surf.”

“I don’t. But Dylan and this really nice lifeguard named Josh were offering lessons for beginners.” She grinned. “Not that I progressed much past hanging onto the board while they towed me around, but it was fun. I also attended a branding demo.”