Page 2 of The Wrong Fiancée

I remembered her hands pushing my swim trunks down when she wenton her knees and sucked me off on a private beach in Honolulu. I was there for an art auction and had met her. We'd hit it off, and I'd ended up staying for nearly two weeks at the resort she was working in because I couldn't get enough of her.

But when it was time to leave, I couldn't find her to say goodbye. I left her a note thanking her for her company and a sealed envelope with a few hundred dollars at the front desk.

She had told me she had to drop out of university because she couldn’t afford it—I didn’t buy it. It sounded like an excuse, and honestly, I didn’t think she was cut out for higher education anyway. Still, I figured some money might help. And now, looking at her, I knew I’d been right. She was cleaning hotel rooms back then, and she was still doing it now.

While I was thinking about our time together four years ago, she looked like she had nothing more on her mind than her job. "I can clean the lanai while you change. If you need anything, please let me know."

Granted, I hadn't known her forthatlong. Still, I remembered Elika as being passionate, fiery, and even a little reckless—but this Elika was precise and controlled, like every movement, every gesture was choreographed. I didn't like it. I didn't like itat all.

"You don't seem surprised to see me," I blurted out. "Did you know I was going to be here?"

Had she come to my room, seeking me out?Damn it.I'd have to let her down nicely if she did. I was engaged, and I didn't cheat.

She cleared her throat. "I am not surprised to see you, Mr. Archer."

"Mr. Archer? Hey, what's going on?" I demanded when she began to walk brusquely to the lanai.

She stopped to look at me, genuinely confused. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"I thought we were…if not friends, acquaintances. I know it was four years ago…but you're treating me like a?—"

"Guest?" There was no heat in her tone. It was flat. Lifeless. Ididn't recognize this Elika. The woman I had had in my bed for two weeks had been happy, joyful, and curious.

"Yes," I retorted.

"I work here," she said simply, "And youarea guest."

I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"But you knew I was going to be here," I probed. "Did you come to my bungalow looking for me?"

She raised her eyebrows, and I saw amusement in her eyes. "Mr. Archer, I barely know you. We spent a little time together several years ago. Do you really think you left such an impact that I'd come looking for you in a bungalow booked under your fiancée's name?"

Well, that put me in my place, didn't it? She knew I was engaged.

"Ah…." I ran a hand through my hair, feeling like an idiot. She was right. I was full of myself, thinking she even remembered me. She was young and beautiful. She probably had as many holiday romances as I did. I didn't remember all of them. But Elika had been different. I'd known it then. If she'd been more polished…maybe…. I knew even then that we had some amazing out-of-this-world chemistry in bed.

Still, she would not be able to hold a conversation with me about Kawanabe Kyosai, who I had just been talking about at dinner last night with Felicity. Kyosai was one of the most eccentric and brilliant artists of Japan's Edo period—his grotesque, satirical sketches were masterpieces. Yet, few outside the art world even know his name. Now, Felicity would be able to tell me about the precise symbolism of how the Kyosai used demons and spirits to criticize the political turmoil of the Meiji Restoration—a detail so obscure most historians would overlook it, but she'd know it.

"I didn't expect to see you here," I finally admitted. "It's a surprise."

She straightened, standing tall in the maid's uniform that did nothing to diminish the grace she carried. "I understand." Her voice was even, emotionless. "I've been living in Kauai for two years now."

I nodded. "Well, it's good to see you."

"Yes, Mr. Archer."

"Elika, please call me Dean."

"It was nice seeing you again as well.Aloha." With that, she stepped out onto the lanai. I had no idea what was going on with Elika, but one thing was certain—she didn’t think it was nice to see me again, not even a little.

Chapter Two

ELIKA

When hefinallyleft the room, I sank onto the bathroom floor, feeling everything inside me shake.

I had done the hard thing. I’d faced Dean Archer, and even though it felt like I’d been gutted, I survived. After everything the past four years had thrown at me, Dean should’ve been the least of my worries. And yet, somehow, he’d crept back in and claimed the top spot.

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