Page 3 of His Curvy Castaway Obsession - A Man Who Knows What He Wants

She’s about to leave, and even though it goes against my instincts, I have to let her go, for now.

I wince as I watch her leave, walking alone down the street, that fine ass and hip waving goodbye, her skirt pleats winking at me as she walks, but I vow to them for my own soon.

To claim all of her as my own, very soon.

Her boss, Ranka is more than happy to assist once she hears my urgent requirement for a hostess on a yacht for the following day. Happier still when I unfold cash bills instead of the platinum Amex underneath them.

I don’t even count it, but I know it should be enough to get her to me. It’s all I need, just a few hours and I can take it from there.

“You want Zoe?” her boss asked in disbelief, as if I’d just asked if I could unpack the crap sandwich I’d brought with me for dinner and eat it on her countertop.

“It has to be her, the girl who just left,” I demand, then start to put my money away once she starts listing a dozen reasons I could have… should have someone better.

“Alright, alright!” she concedes, almost offended, realizing I’m walking if she doesn’t book me Zoe for the following morning. I’ll follow her myself if need be, give her all the money I have, whatever it takes. I must have her come spend the day with me.

“She’s not married? Boyfriend?” I ask, surprising myself with my tone. I feel bad for him if there is one.

“Her? Pffft! She’s single alright… You sure you’re on the level, buddy? I mean I’m sure you could do much better than her, plus this is a job agency, you do know that, right? No funny business.”

I slide Ranka, her boss over my card and watch her eyes go up as she fans herself with it, scratch the details on the back of another and toss the money on the counter, plus a little more for good measure.

“Un-funny enough for ya?” I ask, and growl to myself as I turn to leave, counting the minutes until Zoe’s better life can start.

Shit!

I still need to follow her. I can’t lose sight of her now.

Zoe.

I have a word for the feeling now, and it’s my new mantra, thumping in my brain, along with my heart and my new all-day hard on.

Only to make sure she gets home safe. The thought of her alone in this world now, without me, it’s unthinkable.

“I’ll check to make sure it’s her you send…” I caution her boss before letting the door close, knowing full well I’ll do more than just check.

I almost lose her a couple of times, but once I get my truck, following her home is easy, she lives just a few blocks away.

Almost right away, after about an hour anyway. I can tell Zoe doesn’t go out. Once the sun goes down, there’s the dim light of her TV until ten, then it’s lights out.

I grind my jaw, sitting in the dark, looking up at the black square of her window that feels like the only thing keeping her from me. I should go home, but why?

There’s only one thing in the world I want now, and I’m not letting her out of my sight for another minute.

God help anything who tries to get in my way too, I have a history, a reputation even, for being a man who knows what he wants.

I spend the early part of my night sending out those exclusive invites via email and text message. Some of the wealthiest people in the state, and they all reply within ten minutes.

No matter how much they’ve invested of other people’s money into Parker’s projects, the slightest hint that they might be going someplace he could actually turn up, especially his famed yacht… they’re like moths to a flame.

The cruise is fully booked in minutes and I have the catering, captain and other necessary planning all stitched up before I settle in for the rest of the night.

Just one more night, Zoe… and I swear, you’ll never be alone again. I promise.

Chapter Three

Zoe

I try to keep my deep breaths quiet, but within a few moments from pulling away, Michael glances over. Concerned.

“Everything alright?” and I register he seems just as nervous as I am, but his isn’t nerves, his is more like… I dunno… like a hunter or something, someone stalking prey and waiting for the right moment.

Anticipation. That’s what it is.

I figure he has a lot on his mind being the…

“What is it you do?” I hear myself ask, regretting it straight away, and rolling my eyes at how rude I sound.

“I don’t mean… I just…” I decide to stay quiet, pushing myself further back into the bench seat, almost wishing it would swallow me up.

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