Lost & Found

I’m get paid to look for trouble and it might have just shown up. As I edge my way onto the dance floor, the skin on my neck prickles. Something’s brewing.

A breeze rattles through the palms overhead, quickly chased away by the heat from the partiers dancing in front of me. The lanterns hanging between the trees cast a dizzying light show on a mass of smiling faces. A frenzy of barely clad vacationers. Sunburned, with sloshing cocktails.

My one task for the night is to keep my billionaire client safe. Which is sure as hell a lot more stressful when it involves places like this.

Refocusing my eyes, I scan the dance floor.

Thorne Hart is a big hit tonight. Women are buzzing around him like bees on honeysuckle blooms. Which isn’t the problem. Glancing right, I narrow my eyes on the two thick-necked bodyguards that sauntered into the club a few minutes ago.

After leaning their heads together to talk, they split. One slowly strolling right, the other left. I know their deal. These guys are the advanced security team for some wealthy person.

The trouble they might come with is my worry. Things can get out of hand really quick when the wrong, or right, rich or famous person shows up in a club.

I lock eyes with my coworker, Tomas. He tips his chin at Thorne who’s busy dancing. Tomas has been watching the men too. Our client needs to know that trouble could be stirring without me raising too many red flags. So, into the dancing mix I go, not reluctantly but sort of disbelieving.

If you’d have asked me five years ago if this is where I’d be—bodyguarding some rich guy thousands of miles from home—I would have said HELL no.

Always thought I’d be a rancher. Hands in the dirt. Horse beneath me working my grandmother’s ranch, back on our small island.

Only, that didn’t happen.

And a lot of other shit did. A lifetime worth of it crammed into just a few years.

So, here I am. Getting ready to swim into a crowd of women in skimpy beach tops with golden tanned skin and wild sun-streaked hair. This would be a dream to practically any single guy. Including Thorne who’s right at home in the middle of everyone.

Fucking-A. The life this guy has.

I grit my teeth and bump toward him through the thick crowd. It’s hot. Ten degrees hotter than on the perimeter. The DJ’s lit the place on fire. Heavy beats sink into the earth, stirring up the heat and hormones. Looks like everyone is out to get laid, drunk, or more likely, to do both.

People crush against me. I make two steps forward and almost as many backward. It would be easier to just hurl people out of the way… but that would definitely turn some heads. With twenty feet to go, I hit a roadblock dressed in not much more than a cocktail napkin. Looking past her, I half-shout, “Excuse me.”

Standing up on her tip-toes, she shouts back, “Hey, tall boy.”

That’s a new one, I give her credit. A little.

Only she’s got the ‘boy’ part wrong. I stopped being a boy when I was ten, when my jackass father tried to beat me to death and split.

When I glance down, I’m up close and personal with a set of breasts that are damn near naked. For a few seconds, I’m stunned into a testosterone-induced stupor. Okay, maybe the teenage boy in me is still alive and kicking.

Holy hell. What does she have on? Do people even wear that in public? I think that’s clothing, but I’m not sure if it counts.

My staring is more than a little awkward. “I’m heading that way.” I force my eyes up again, over her head, determined not to engage, but the woman presses her body against mine. Or maybe it’s the crowd that presses us together. “Sorry, not interested.”

Her laugh is challenging, and paired with a flash of mischievous dark brown eyes that I catch in my periphery. “Tell me that again, liar.”

Well, if she wants to call me a liar, I’ll lie. I lean down and put my mouth right next to her ear. “I’m gay.”

She throws her head back and laughs again. “Dance with me. I don’t care what you are. You’re into me. I saw the way you looked at my boobs.”

I scowl and raise my voice over the music. “Sorry to disappoint, I’m just trying to get to my friend. The tall guy over there.”

She glances toward Thorne, then back at me with a gleam sparking in her eyes. Oh hell. That expression spells one thing. Trouble.

Before I realize what’s happening, she leaps on me. A wildcat on her prey.

“Hey, now. Whoa, thereff”

There is no description for what she’s doing with her hips. But my dick certainly knows what it thinks it should do in response to her hot center grinding against me. And that is NOT happening.

I try to pry her off, with zero luck.

With one arm around my neck, her thighs lashed around my waist, and her other arm in the air, you’d swear she was riding a prize-winning bull.

Hell, for being only a hundred pounds, she’s a handful and a half.

“Yeahff” she shouts victoriously, as if she hit the nine-second timer in a bull ride.

God have mercy. I’m gonna be twerked in half, or whatever the hell she’s doing. In a growly yell, I demand, “You know what ‘no’ means?”

Grabbing the front of my shirt, she snarls her lip. “You might as well give up.”

Oh. Hell. No.

But she’s not letting go. Talk about clingers! Every time I pry one body part off, another replaces it. This has to be what the victim of an octopus feels like. “I’ve really got to get to my friend.”

All my attention is on dealing with the dancing, bull-riding menace, so I don’t even see Thorne approaching. When I catch sight of him, his grin is wicked. “Looks like you’ve got your hands full.”

“Fuck, you think?”

He flashes a smile at her that undoubtedly has women proposing to him every damn day. “Hello, gorgeous.”

She goes all glassy-eyed. “Well, hellllloooo to you too—”

Shocking me, and her, Thorne lays a kiss on her that makes her gasp. Holy shit. His ploy is working. As he goes for a gold medal in the lip Olympics, her grip loosens.

Amen!

She sways when her feet hit the floor, but Thorne steadies her with a hand on her waist. When they come up for air, he shoves some cash in her hand. “Go buy your girlfriends some drinks. I’ll see you at the bar.”

She’s dazed and staring. “Madre de Dios.”

He smiles triumphantly as she fans herself and leans into him. “I’ll be waiting for another kiss like that.”

And just like that, I’m forgotten, as she swishes her way off toward the bar.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure what was going to happen there.”

“No problem, man. What’s up?”

“There are some unexpected guests. Not sure what’s coming.”

“I saw the two meatheads come in. I’ve had enough, anyway.”

Smirking, I ask, “Sure you don’t want to go visit the girl at the bar?”

He laughs, tipping his head toward her. “Some other guy is about to become the pole in her dance. I’m ready if you are.”

Boy, after that, I’m sure as hell ready…

Someone bumps into my back. I half turn with a grumble to push the drunk away. “Alright now, probably time to switch to water—”

But my words morph into a grunt of disbelief. My skin goes clammy. All of the blood in my heart falls to the floor, spilling out of me in one cold flush.

Jesus, God, and Mary too. There is no way it can be Gina Hamilton standing mere feet in front of me. Here! Thousands of miles from home.

My mouth instantly flashes dry as I narrow my eyes. The shadows are dark and moving, and for a few seconds, I think it’s my mind playing tricks on me. My brain tries to make sense of what I’m seeing, my blood surges, then stops again as I stare.

Maybe I should get laid. Obviously, I’m going insane.

Thorne elbows me. “You okay, man?”

“No. No, I’m not.”

“I know that look. There’s nothing else on this planet that makes a man wear that expression—only a woman that’s got you by the balls.”

Man, is he right, because not twenty feet away from me is the one woman in the world that can bring me to my knees. She’s still as beautiful as ever. Long lashes, lush lips, eyes that drown men.

I’ve looked down into her delicate face a million times while we made love, there’s no mistaking her. I’m definitely not okay. I’ll never be okay when it comes to Gina.

“Why don’t you go talk to her? I’ll head back to the boat with Tomas.”

Bad idea. Terrible idea.

I can’t stay here without wrecking myself all over again. And this time… I’m not sure I’ll survive the carnage. “I should go with you.”

“We’re fine. Take care of your business.”

I swear my feet are glued to the floor as my heart thuds and twists painfully behind my sternum.

Then she moves, her lips lift up in a little smile, and I know there’s no way in hell that my brain has conjured this. It’s too perfect. Fuck.

I’ve thought about the moment we would come face-to-face again. But damned if I knew how it would feel. Invigorating. Excruciating. Like I’m dying and being born all at once. I want her. Need her. Can’t turn and walk away. It would be fucking impossible.

Thorne clasps my shoulder, leans in, and yells over the music, “Seriously. You’ve been working hard following me around for weeks. Knock off for a few hours tonight, and take care of this situation.”

“There is no situation.”

He laughs like a man who knows more about love than he lets on. “Tell yourself what you like. I recognize a situation when I see one. And if I’m correct, the guy with his arm around her shoulder is probably going to need a medic before the night is over.”

My throat refuses to work when I try to swallow. I’d barely even noticed the fuckface with his arm over Gina’s shoulder. But now, I sure as hell do.

Suddenly, I’m in motion, with my fists clenched tight, raring for a fight. My heart hammers, and every possessive cell in my body is firing on ten cylinders.

It’s wrong and I know it. She’s not mine. That singular cold, hard fact is my last thought every fucking night.

I have no right to be jealous, but I can’t stop the train that’s already left the station.

The instant Gina sees me, surprise widens her dark blue eyes. Even in the flickering dance floor lights, I can’t miss the tremble in her hand when she touches her neck right on the place where I used to kiss her.