Page 3 of The Cottage on Pelican Bay

Saint moved away from the window in his hotel room when huge bolts of lightning flashing across the sky made standing in front of it unwise. He was not surprised the airport had closed. There had been reports of a tornado in Baton Rouge and as far as he was concerned, that was too close for comfort. He felt bad for all the stranded travelers who had attended the summer music festival that was held every year in August in New Orleans.

He thought of one such traveler and checked his watch. The woman who called herself Angel had less than ten minutes, but he honestly didn’t expect her to come. Even if she had intended to do so in the beginning, chances were when she’d left the bar she had changed her mind. Why wouldn’t she? She knew no more about him than he knew about her.

But then...wasn’t that how a hookup was supposed to work? Even with her boldness, he suspected she didn’t have casual sex on a regular basis. He had seen the look in her eyes when she’d said she was no longer in an exclusive relationship. There had been pain in their hazel depths, and he had a feeling it was not only deep but was also rather recent.

He didn’t know Angel’s story but guessed it was pretty much like his. She said that she was no longer involved with anyone, and neither was he. He wondered how long ago it had been for her. It had been close to a year for him. But there were times when it felt less than that.

He was told that time eventually mended broken hearts. He hoped like hell that was true. Eleven months ago, his girlfriend, Mia Givens, had turned down his marriage proposal for the second time in four years saying she could see no reason for them to move past being an exclusive couple.

He’d seen plenty of reasons. They were getting older, and he felt they should want more. He wanted them to settle down permanently and, more than anything, he wanted a family. Then there was the issue of her getting a big promotion at work that would require her to move to Florida. She’d wanted him to quit his job and pack up and move with her—without any type of marital commitment.

Mia had told him she wasn’t ready to get married. Her career came first and at the moment neither marriage nor children were on her radar—and she wasn’t sure they would ever be. He’d been smart enough to know when to cut his losses and move on. In the end, she’d moved from Seattle to Florida without him.

Mia had taught him a lesson he would never forget. Never give your heart, body and soul to any woman. Okay, he would delete the thought of not giving a woman his body, since he had no problem sharing that part of himself with the woman he’d met tonight. She would be the first one he’d thought about sleeping with since Mia.

Checking his watch again, he saw Angel had five minutes. He drew in a deep breath, reaffirming his suspicions that she was a novice at this. The same thing held true for him, since he’d never indulged in a one-night stand before, either. However, some of his friends had. According to them, the exchanging of information was a no-no. There was no need when the affair would only last the night and chances were the couple involved would never see each other again. Their hookup was about appeasing a sexual hunger, which undoubtedly was something they both had.

That much had been obvious with all the heat and sexual energy radiating between them. He could only speculate about the reasons for what might or might not happen tonight. He honestly didn’t think it had anything to do with his ex-girlfriend. Saint was convinced his only reason for wanting to lose his mind in lust for a few hours with a woman he didn’t know was due to the personal stress he’d been under lately.

Being an only child wasn’t easy, especially when you had parents who wouldn’t accept that with an older age came limitations. The trip he’d made into Catalina Cove this time had been to check on his father, who had gotten injured while, of all things, parasailing behind a boat. A man in his sixties had no business doing such a stunt, and Saint was glad the injuries weren’t as bad as they could have been.

It was just six months ago when his mother had nearly cut her finger off with a knife she’d purchased from one of those cooking shows she liked watching on television. She’d been convinced she could chop the vegetables with the same skill and speed as she’d seen the chef on the show do. Not only was she proved wrong, but she’d needed several stitches as well. He’d rushed home after his father called saying his mother was a difficult patient. Not surprisingly, his mother had called last week claiming the same thing about his father.

More than once he had discussed the possibility of their moving to live with him in Seattle. They refused to even consider the idea. Catalina Cove was where they were born, and it was where they wanted to die. That meant he would eventually have to move back home to a town he felt he’d outgrown. He had built a life in Seattle. He liked it there, rainy days and all. He would admit things had been hard after his breakup with Mia, but once she’d moved away and he didn’t have to worry about chance encounters, he’d been adjusting to their breakup.

Saint moved toward the bed and was about to sit on it to remove his shoes, certain the woman wasn’t coming, when suddenly there was a knock. With his heart pounding in his chest, he walked to the door and opened it.

The sensuousness of her scent caught him immediately. There she stood, looking more beautiful than before. Without the clip holding her hair back, a mass of curls flowed freely around her shoulders, making her look younger and more carefree. She had changed out of her sundress into a formfitting minidress and wore a pair of stilettos. Both shoes and dress were blue, and at that moment he would describe them as shocking blue. Then there was that low dip in her neckline that brazenly revealed there wasn’t a bra covering her breasts. Not that he was complaining. And he didn’t miss the bottle of wine and wineglasses she had cuddled to her chest.

“Hi,” she said, flashing him a grin that made him even more aroused.

“Hi, yourself. Come on in, Angel,” he said, taking a step back.

“I think I will, Saint.”

And she did.

Zara placed the bottle of wine and glasses on the table before turning around to Saint. Lord knows she’d tried talking herself out of coming here but it hadn’t done any good. She couldn’t stop thinking about the vibes she’d felt between them when they’d met. Everything about him made her body tingle. Then there had been the unexpected wildness in his taste when she’d boldly glided her tongue across his lips. That hadn’t been enough and now she wanted the whole shebang. And his masculine scent was just as arousing as the rest of him.

He was leaning back against the closed door as if trying to figure out what to make of her. Did he assume this was common behavior for her? Should she explain spending the night in a stranger’s room wasn’t the norm for her? Especially when she knew what would be taking place in that bed? Little did he know, due to her recent experience with what was supposed to be a love connection—one she’d assumed would last forever—she’d placed getting involved in a serious relationship on her Never To Do Again list.

When he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans, her breath stuttered when she saw how aroused he was. There were some things a man couldn’t hide and from all appearances, he wasn’t trying to. Drawing in a deep breath, she said, “I told you I would come.”

He held her gaze and said, “And I’m glad you did.”

The rich huskiness of his voice had desire warming her to the core. She needed to break eye contact with him, so she looked around and noticed his room was identical to hers. When she returned her gaze to him, she felt the need to say, “Just for the record, I’ve never done anything like this before.”

“Neither have I, Angel.”

Did he expect her to believe that when he seemed so accepting of what was happening between them? But then, wasn’t she? “Then why do you think we’re doing it now?” she asked.

She watched as he slowly moved away from the door to come stand before her. That masculine scent, which had affected her before, was tantalizing her again now. It was filling her nostrils and making her feel somewhat lightheaded. “I think the foremost reason is that we’re hot for each other, Angel. I felt your heat the moment I saw you, and there’s no doubt in my mind that you felt mine.”

He was right. She had felt his—but still. “I haven’t slept with a guy for seven months, and he was my steady boyfriend.” There was no need to tell him that although she and Maurice hadn’t been intimate for that period of time, she’d only discovered his betrayal four months ago. She hadn’t suspected a thing because he’d taken more business trips and so had she.

“We’d dated exclusively for two years,” she added.

“It’s been twelve days short of a year for me, and I was in an exclusive relationship as well. We were together for four years.”

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