Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57779 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
“If it’s an investment, it has to be sound and not weighted with debt.”
Investments have to be sound, I repeat in my mind, and my heart sinks with the reality this statement delivers. Maybe Ethan isn’t an asshole. Maybe my father is in that much debt, and if I don’t take the Moore’s deal, I can’t help him.
“But,” Ethan adds, “it depends on the type of help. Someone like yourself who’s ambitious and putting in the work, on the edge of success, appeals to me. I also like that you didn’t ask for the help, in fact, you shut that idea down from the start.”
I’m so confused right now. Are we playing with the idea of a one-night stand, or is this something wholly different? And what do I want from Ethan? At least one night, I decide. I mean, how can I not? He’s gorgeous. He’s as alpha as it gets, and I’ve never actually been with a man as powerful and male as him. The sex has to be life-changing, right?
A server we have not seen before arrives with two bowls in hand. “This is a salad of Hawaiian hearts of palm. This includes an avocado purée, radishes, and a lime vinaigrette.” He sets the dishes in front of us. “Enjoy. Can I get you anything else?”
Ethan glances at me with a question in his eyes. “No, thank you,” I reply to him and the server, who I smile up at. “I’m excited to try it.”
“We’re excited to help you experience the island,” he replies before turning his attention to Ethan, who shakes his head. The waiter then bows his head and departs.
“Remember,” Ethan says. “No regrets.” But when his eyes meet mine, heat spirals between us, and it’s clear he’s not talking about the food. “It’s one night of indulgence,” he adds.
Nerves defeat the whiskey flowing through my body, but not my tendency to become a bit too honest while drinking. “I’m not really a one-night kind of girl,” I murmur. “I’m just not.”
His eyes darken, a look in their depths I can only call animalistic, and my body replies with a resounding “yes” to whatever it is he is offering, awareness tingling in every part of me.
“If you make everything bigger than the moment,” he says, “you can’t enjoy the experience you’re living.”
He’s not wrong, but I’m also aware of the confusing messages he’s sending. In one breath, he’s talking about helping me with my designs, which is most definitely not us and one night. In another, he tells me this is one night. Maybe we don’t know what this is, and maybe for once I don’t need to define anything and everything. I reach for my glass and empty it, knowing full well it’s the end of logical thinking. And that’s what I want. When I set it down, he refills it, and I watch the amber liquid cover the ice cubes.
One night, I tell myself.
I want it. That’s all this has to become.
No regrets.
When I look at him, he’s studying me, his eyes are as warm as my body feels, and the new dose of the amber scotch whiskey has me feeling a bit more daring. “Does this mean I can ask you anything, and you’ll answer?” I say, though I really don’t know what I’d ask him. Not yet, at least.
“It depends. Can I ask you anything and you’ll answer?”
Somehow the idea of him asking me anything is far more intimidating than me asking him the same. Which is silly. Outside of him asking me my name, there is nothing about me that is a secret. “Only if I ask you first and you answer.”
“As long as this is quid pro quo, you get one question, and I’ll answer no matter what. Ask away.”
What do I want to know from this man? Everything, I surprise myself by thinking, and that’s too much. “I think I’ll wait to ask my question.”
His full, dangerously intense mouth curves. “Don’t wait too long. Because I don’t plan on giving up my turn.
Chapter Seven
My salad is delicious, and by the time the next course has arrived, Ethan has told me all about the island. “You must have been here a lot of times to know as much as you do about this place.”
“I’ve been competing in martial arts since I was a young boy,” he says lightly. “One of the major youth tournaments is here on the island.”
“Oh. That’s kind of a fun excuse to come to Hawaii, but it’s such a time change. Doesn’t that impact performance?”
“When you’re young, there isn’t much that affects you.”
There’s something about the way he says this, and I sip my drink and study him. “Not so much now?”
“I’m bulletproof now,” he says, and it feels like an automatic reply. A shield he wears with practiced skill.