Crazy For Love. Victoria Dahl
something about the responsibility had gotten stuck deep inside him like a barbed hook. He couldn’t ignore it, even when any rational person would be able to walk away. The need to guide people out of trouble was a painful tugging in his brain. And women in trouble…
Christ, his love life had been a goddamn catastrophe from the moment he’d turned sixteen. Everyone thought he was attracted to bad girls. The truth was, they were attracted to him, and he was pathologically unable to turn his back on someone in trouble.
Nine months ago, in an era he liked to refer to as post-Genevieve, Max had taken a vow of celibacy. No more women, no matter how vulnerable and needy they were. He was strictly hands-off. Life since then had been perfectly lonely. As isolated as he could manage. He’d loved it.
In fact, he felt a stark envy for Elliott’s life. His quiet apartment. His office filled with papers and books and computers. His complete lack of any hint of drama. Elliott would never believe it, but Max would switch places with him in a heartbeat. Let Elliott deal with a wild, globe-trotting heiress like Genevieve. Max would live like a monk.
A monk who still took pleasure in watching the approach of two pretty women walking across the sand. “See?” he murmured. “Women.”
Max took a swig from his beer and poked at the coals while Elliott did a double take. When the women looked in their direction and both smiled at the same time, Max did a double take, too.
They were nearly the same height—about five-six, he’d guess—but the similarities ended there. The blonde had long wavy hair and delicate features. The brunette was curvier, but wholesome-looking, like a hybrid of Ginger and Mary Ann from Gilligan’s Island. Both Ginger and Mary Ann had been staple fantasies in Max’s early teen years. He was intrigued.
No, you’re not, his stern inner voice assured him.
Turning back to the grill, he grabbed the pack of hot dogs to keep himself busy. A vacation fling was the last thing he needed.
But his brain replayed the image of wind-whipped hair and swaying hips on an endless loop in his brain. That brunette looked peaceful, and Max craved peace the way a pirate craved treasure.
Perhaps a deserted island wasn’t the best location for a man who’d sworn off booty.
JENN GRABBED ANOTHER ROCK from the pile and added it to the fire ring with a worried glance toward the other cabin. “He’s watching you,” she whispered to Chloe.
“He’s probably watching you,” Chloe answered with a distracted frown. “But I thought you wanted him to watch me,” she continued. Jenn watched her scoop up a handful of sand and let it drift through her fingers.
“Now I’m suspicious.”
“Hot guy checking me out? I don’t blame you.”
Jenn rolled her eyes. “Shut up.”
Chloe just sifted more sand, her brow furrowed.
“Aren’t you having fun?”
“What?” Chloe glanced up and her face cleared a little. “No, I’m having fun! This is great. Very relaxing.”
“Relaxing, huh? I was hoping we’d make it all the way to Funtown.”
Chloe laughed, but Jenn regretted her words as soon as they left her mouth. “Funtown! God, I haven’t heard that in forever. I never see Anna anymore. Maybe we should’ve invited her, too.”
“Mmm,” Jenn answered, trying for nonchalance, wishing she hadn’t mentioned anything associated with Anna Fenton. “You know how busy she’s been with her job. I hardly see her anymore, either.”
“She could’ve gotten off work if she’d wanted to. Her dad owns the damn hotel chain.”
“Yeah…” Jenn’s heart thundered in her chest as the weight of her lies pressed down on her. She shook her hair back, hoping to shake off the worry, as well. This vacation was meant to be fun, and she assured herself that everything would be fine. “I think he’s grooming Anna to take over the kingdom or something.”
“Too bad. It would’ve been nice. Like revisiting college. You two could’ve shared a room, and I would drop by at inconvenient times to sprawl on your bed and mope about boy trouble!”
“That does sound vaguely familiar.”
“Well, we’ll have to all get together again soon. After the trial. She can help with my makeover. I need her to tell me which era is back in style. You’re as hopeless as I am.”
“I just go to Ann Taylor and let them sell me stuff.” Jenn rolled the last stone into place and dusted off her hands. “Anyway—”
“Why did she decide not to go to culinary school? I haven’t talked to her since she was looking at applications last November.”
Jenn wanted to drop the subject, but she didn’t want to look suspicious, either. “She didn’t decide. Her dad told her that working in the kitchen was a good experience for a woman who was going to own a dozen luxury hotels someday, but she’d become a chef over his dead body.”
“Oh, yikes. I had no idea. How’s she taking that?”
“Okay,” Jenn answered with a forced smile. Chloe had never been as close to Anna as Jenn was, thank God, or there would’ve been no way to cover up this disaster. “Anyway, what’s the big deal? I’m not enough for you?”
“You’re enough for me. Plus, she probably wouldn’t have been able to relax without cell access. But it sounds like she needs a vacation as much as I do.”
Jenn pushed up from her knees to dust off the sand. “I saw a bunch of driftwood at that first dune. I’ll be right back.” Even though Chloe lay back on the cooling sand as if she didn’t have a care in the world, Jenn breathed a sigh of relief as she hurried off.
She wasn’t cut out for deceit and never had been. As a kid, when she’d lied to her parents, all it had taken was one stern look from her dad to break her, forcing a weeping confession. Now the tears seemed to push behind her eyes, waiting for a chance to escape.
But it was too late to confess. There was no point. Chloe needed to move on and Jenn was going to help her do just that.
Anna couldn’t understand that. She’d tried to convince Jenn that this time on the island would be a great opportunity to clear the air, get the truth out. Jenn had pretended to consider it, but, in reality, she wanted the truth buried under a hundred feet of earth where air would never touch it.
Jenn stole a look over her shoulder at Chloe stretched out on the sand, the slanting rays of the setting sun gleaming over her. Chloe deserved to be happy again. Jenn was determined to make that happen, even if it meant lying for the rest of her life.
Speaking of happiness… She used the excuse of bending down for wood to angle her head toward the other cabin. Sure enough, that guy was staring hard at Chloe, forehead creased in thought.
Jenn frowned at him. What could he be thinking about? Did he recognize Chloe? The whole point of this stupid getaway had been to hide Chloe away from prying eyes so she could take a deep breath before the charges were filed, because that was going to be a complete nightmare. Hints were starting to come out that Thomas had done more than just fake his own death…
Jenn wanted to give her friend a little peace before the trauma. And maybe all that other talk would just die down.
Clutching the wood to her chest, Jenn hurried back toward the cabin, keeping her eye on the man next door. He was still frowning at Chloe.
Crap. She wanted Chloe to have a good time, but what if Jenn pushed her toward this guy and he really was a reporter?
Before Jenn could intercept him, he stood and stepped onto the sand.