My Heart Still Beats Read Online Helen Hardt

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Suspense Tags Authors: Helen Hardt Advertisement

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But then I wonder, if she were here, would we even have made the fortune?

If she’d been there when I was seventeen, would I have gone down those paths best left untrodden?

That dark time.

Something I thought was resolved, but clearly is not—at least not as of three months ago.

This is a road I must travel alone.

Without Braden. Without my father. And certainly without Tessa Logan.

Chapter Nineteen

Tessa

One of the male dancers heads to Skye, pulls her out of her chair, and leads her away from the table and onto the soft white sand.

Skye, who is normally shy around strangers and loves control, has apparently had one too many of her eponymous cocktails tonight. She gyrates along with the handsome man, sliding her hands over his broad shoulders and sculpted chest.

Several months ago, I might’ve been the first to take to the floor with one of these handsome men.

But I stay glued to my seat.

Kathy rises next, joining the men dancing.

She’s single right now, having recently ended a short relationship with Braden’s father. Bobby Black is a good-looking man, but too old for my tastes.

Seems like no man is quite to my tastes these days.

Except Ben Black.

I still can’t get over the way he makes me feel—safe and secure.

But it’s in my head.

He’s the best man, and I’m the maid of honor, and I’m sure Braden told him to look after me.

I mean, why else would he plan a bachelorette party? That’s certainly not the best man’s job. It’s not the job for any man.

Clearly… Because I told him no strippers. And these hot dudes dancing around?

Definitely strippers.

Although none of them have lost their trunks yet. I’m sure it’s only a matter of time. The thought should bother me more than it does, which I suppose is a good thing.

Betsy and Daniela join the fun, and soon I’m sitting at the table alone.

I finish my champagne. Between that and the Skye cocktail I had earlier, I’m done drinking.

I won’t be dancing, either. I’m happy to be the odd one out.

Until Skye pulls the guy she’s dancing with over to me. “Tessa, come dance with us. This is Lucas.”

Lucas is the best-looking one of the bunch. Smooth dark skin, muscles that could rival the best Olympic athlete, and a bald head. Normally I don’t like it when men shave their heads, but it works on Lucas. He’s fucking amazing.

“Why do you do this?” I ask him. “You should be walking a runway somewhere.”

“Because I enjoy this, pretty lady.” He grabs my hand and pulls me into a standing position.

I instinctively pull my hand away.

“Just try to have some fun, Tess,” Skye says.

“Sure.” Deep breath. I’ll do anything for Skye.

I tentatively hold my hand out to Lucas again, and he takes it. He pulls me out onto the sand, and the man can move. I close my eyes, immersing myself in the reggae music. It’s no salsa, but I like reggae.

Skye dances with us. She won’t leave me alone unless I ask her to, and I certainly won’t be doing that.

I dance for several minutes, leaving my hand in Lucas’s.

His hand is warm and inviting, and after a few moments, I no longer fear his touch.

But his touch doesn’t do anything for me other than that. As good-looking as he is, I’m feeling no arousal at all.

When the music stops and the band takes a break, I pull my hand away from Lucas. “Thank you for the dance,” I say, and then I head back to the bar. I need some more water.

The night is warm, and the dancing made me sweat.

I feel a little exhilarated. Movement always does that. It helps when I’m feeling low. I shouldn’t be feeling low, though. I had an amazing time at Dunn’s River Falls, and then I had a great massage and mani-pedi.

I’m determined not to feel low. This is Skye’s weekend, and I will not bring it down.

I head to the bar for my water, and the Jamaican bartender has been replaced with—

A sliver of recognition ignites at the back of my neck…and it feels…odd. Odd and definitely not good.

I’ve seen this man before.

He has fair skin, a strong nose. And something…

It’s apprehension that’s curling up my spine. Apprehension…and fear.

I pay no attention to it. I’m used to feeling this way around strange men. A gift from Garrett. The gift that keeps on giving.

But I feel like there’s some memory lodged in the back of my head. Some memory that I can’t quite grasp.

Something involving this man.

I cock my head, regard him. His hair is sandy brown, his eyes nearly the same color. He’s pleasant looking, though not runway material like Lucas. Far from it, actually. Something about him is familiar…

But I can’t place him. And I’m done trying.

“Have we met?” he asks.

“No,” I say flatly.

I’m not in any mood to discuss the fact that he looks familiar. Not when the memory feels like it could be a bad one.

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