Seduction Island. Lorie O'Clare

      KENSINGTON BOOKS

       http://www.kensingtonbooks.com

      Contents

      Chapter 1

      Chapter 2

      Chapter 3

      Chapter 4

      Chapter 5

      Chapter 6

      Chapter 7

      Chapter 8

      Chapter 9

      Chapter 10

      Chapter 11

      Chapter 12

      Chapter 13

      Chapter 14

      Chapter 15

      Chapter 16

      Chapter 17

      1

      Jordan Anton squatted on the edge of the volcanic rock and stared at the white foam as it raced up the sandy beach. It receded into crystal clear, bright blue water. Coral reefs added to the magnificence of the view. Too bad the small island was nothing more than a dried-up old volcano.

      Jordan picked up a loose rock and hurled it at the ocean. Prisons came in many shapes and sizes. At least this one offered a view.

      He jumped the three feet to the sandy ground and walked the length of the rocky wall. Beyond the thick grove of some erotic-looking flowering plant, a worn path led away from the beach. He started up the path, taking in the thick trunks of what might possibly be a hybrid of a palm tree. If he were in Montana he would know the names of the trees around him.

      Jordan wondered how many Antons had been sent to this island when they didn’t meet the approval of Pierre Anton, his grandfather. He would only be here a month, through all of January, and the terms weren’t completely unbearable. But he was here against his will. He would be here in this warm tropical paradise, while everyone at the ranch endured the frigid winter.

      He paused, tucking a thick black strand of hair that had come loose from the ponytail at the nape of his neck behind his ear. The long hair bothered his grandfather, but then, everything about Jordan bothered Grandfather Anton. Which, of course, was why Jordan was here.

      “Why bother with a Harvard degree if you aren’t going to use it, boy?” Grandfather had asked him more than once during their last visit.

      Jordan wanted to ask exactly how he was not using his degree. There was knowledge in his head that hadn’t been there before going to Harvard; life experience and memories that he wouldn’t have had if he hadn’t attended the Ivy League school. Jordan didn’t have any regrets. He wasn’t sure why it bothered Grandfather so much that he went to help Aunt Penelope with her ranch in Montana. His grandfather, of all people, should see and understand that Jordan was yet again learning and gaining life experience and memories by helping out on the ranch that his aunt would otherwise lose after divorcing her husband.

      Of course, since she had divorced an Anton, more than likely Grandfather Anton didn’t want her ranch to make it.

      Jordan could spend weeks trying to understand the mind of someone like his grandfather. Or he could put those thoughts out of his head and figure out what the incredibly gorgeous woman standing no more than ten feet in front of him was doing on this island. His grandfather had spelled out the terms of their agreement very clearly before Jordan flew to the island. He would meet Tory, a Sicilian princess who possibly came from more money than the Antons. His grandfather wanted to merge the families, a business deal in his eyes, loosely called a marriage.

      Jordan had no intention of marrying anyone but knew if he didn’t agree to come here, spend a month with the princess on the pretense of possibly announcing an engagement, Grandfather would make it hell for Aunt Penelope and her ranch.

      Princess Tory would arrive tomorrow, which meant the sexy little thing wandering from the castle was one of the hired help, probably taking advantage of her boss not being here and exploring. He hadn’t been scheduled to arrive until tomorrow.

      He finished tucking the strand behind his ear and watched her studying the bark of the tree she stood in front of. “What are you doing?”

      She jumped, yanking her hand back from the tree she was about to touch as if it might bite her, and turned and stared at him, wide eyed. In the next moment she regained her composure, straightened, and narrowed her gaze at him.

      “I’m not sure that’s any of your business. Who are you?” she demanded, obviously clueless as to whom her employer would be while on this island.

      There were advantages to people not knowing his identity. It gave him the opportunity to learn their true nature before revealing his name and watching the fake appreciation and respect gloss over their face like it did every time he mentioned his last name.

      “I asked you first.” He hid his smile when she appeared frustrated, obviously realizing she didn’t have the upper hand with him.

      Jordan moved closer, admiring her long brown hair that was pulled back in a ponytail. His guess was it fell close to her ass. And he’d bet she had a nice ass, too. The curves he saw from the front view were beyond mouth watering.

      “I seriously doubt you have permission to be away from the castle. And I don’t approve of breaking rules to gain information.” She had an American accent, probably northeast—New York or one of the nearby states. The way her hackles rose, turning her dark blue eyes almost violet, proved she knew how to defend herself.

      Definitely not old money. Not to mention, if she were from his class, or the class his family so proudly held on to, she wouldn’t be out here without an escort. Jordan wouldn’t put her much past twenty-five at the most. No rings on her finger, not even a school ring. Maybe he’d run into his social organizer, although Grandfather boasted that the reputable social organizer ran only in the best of circles. Jordan seriously doubted his grandfather would hire a social organizer who shopped at Wal-Mart and not Neiman Marcus.

      “Sometimes there are advantages to breaking the rules.” He decided not to ask further who she was, doubting she’d confirm anyway. The anonymity on both sides allowed him to see her in her natural form. It would go away soon enough and she’d start kissing his ass. At least for a little while he could enjoy the fiery temper he doubted she’d let him see otherwise.

      “Not that I can see.” She turned, walking away from him, along the path she’d probably taken from the castle. “And if you believe there are, I doubt you’ll hold on to your job for long.”

      Jordan liked playing the rogue. In truth, he didn’t feel he was playing too much. But his damn last name and supposed “position in society” got in the way too often to allow him to interact with another person like this. Especially a gorgeous woman. Hell, when was the last time a lady walked away from him?

      “What’s life, if you don’t take risks?” He caught up with her easily enough. Although it didn’t bother him a bit that the path wasn’t really wide enough to walk alongside her. The view of her backside was as extraordinary as he’d imagined.

      “A safe place,” she said tightly, her ass swaying beautifully in her snug, new-looking blue jeans.

      “You must know how to take risks if you’re here,” he pointed out.

      “You’d be surprised what I know.”

      “We