Dare To Love: Dare To Surrender Part 9

Besides, she was bouncy and nice and impossible to dislike. I let out a sigh. "Gabe was infatuated with me," I admitted. "If nothing else, I'm still a challenge to him." Not only because I left but because we'd never actually had s.e.x.

She laughed. And laughed some more. "You really think that, don't you? Oh my G.o.d, you are perfect. Listen. My brother believes in you. And after years of watching him in action and learning, I believe in him."

I smiled at that, glad Gabe had Lucy in his life.

"Isabelle, he wants to give you this chance to s.h.i.+ne. And I've looked into every client you had a hand in over the last three months. Not long, I know. But you do have design talent, and I have the experience to guide you. Everything in life comes down to who you know and opportunity." She picked up the Stella McCartney handbag she'd placed on the table.

"I-"

"Don't decide now," Lucy said. "Spend the afternoon reading the information about our clubs and Eden. If you think you're up to the challenge, I'll see you on the island on Friday. If not, let me know, and I'll contact my second choice."

I picked up the folder, intrigued despite myself. "I'll seriously consider it," I promised her.

"It's been a pleasure, Iz," she said, a gentle smile on her lips.

The unexpected nickname set off a flurry of emotions and memories inside me, but before I could gather myself, Lucy Dare had walked out the door, leaving me behind with a folder. And a challenge.

One I sensed would eventually lead me back to Gabe. If I was brave enough to accept it.

Chapter Eleven.

Gabe: Patience versus Sanity Patience wasn't Gabe's strong suit. Three months had exhausted what little he had left. He waited for his sister's return, pacing his Madison Avenue office in the penthouse of their flags.h.i.+p hotel, staring out the wall of gla.s.s, as if he could see her pet.i.te form rus.h.i.+ng up the street.

By the time Lucy let herself in-without knocking, Starbucks in hand-he was ready to throttle her. "Well?"

His sister settled into the chair across from his desk and propped her feet up on the polished wood. "I like her. She's feisty. And not too skinny. Oh, and she's not a b.i.t.c.h."

"Not what I meant, and you know it."

Lucy grinned. "She'll be there. I phrased it as a challenge. There's no way she won't rise to the occasion."

"If she's not-"

"Then you'll go after her like you should have done from the beginning," his sister said, a smug look on her face.

Gabe shook his head. "If I'd done that, she wouldn't trust me now."

"When she finds out you've kept tabs on her all this time, you think she'll trust you?"

He shrugged, but his skin felt too tight at the thought. "She'll understand," Gabe said.

She had to because he wasn't giving her up again.

Chapter Twelve.

Isabelle: Paradise Awaits I opened the invitation, my fingers gliding over the clearly expensive parchment-like paper, the words and information engraved on the page. The elegance and feel of the scroll writing and the almost demand-like phrasing to come to the island reminded me of Gabe, the deliberate way he went about things, the certainty he put into everything he did, and the sheer masculine perfection of the man. G.o.d, I missed him.

We'd barely been together at all, but the sense that I knew him and him me had remained during our time apart. Just as it had existed within me while I'd been with Lance. And now, even with Gabe gone from my life, knowing he'd easily let me go, I'd somehow felt his protection around me. Odd. Impossible. But still.

Swallowing hard, I pushed him out of my mind and focused on work. The only reason I'd been invited to the tropical island was to create a nightclub, not imagine a reunion with the man I couldn't forget.

I researched Elite and discovered the clubs, both in Manhattan and the ones in various other cities like Las Vegas and South Beach, existed in a stratosphere the likes of which I'd never experienced. The challenge, to not just recreate the atmosphere but to exceed its luxury, was one I found impossible to resist. Still, I thought long and hard about whether or not I wanted a job that was handed to me courtesy of Gabe, who-I thought it best to remind myself-clearly was still avoiding direct contact. Even if it was what I'd told him I wanted, the fact he hadn't come after me still hurt. Talk about feminine indecision and wanting to have it both ways. I winced, not thrilled with myself at the moment.

Ultimately, I decided only a fool would turn down a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Elite wasn't just an exclusive nightclub. It was, for lack of a better metaphor, for the elite of the elite only, where celebrities like Rihanna, Beyonce, and Jay-Z were seen. Not only did you have to know someone to get in but you had to be willing to pay fifteen hundred to ten thousand dollars for the privilege of a table for the night. Yep, I'd be crazy to turn down the opportunity-as crazy as Lucy had been to entrust the job to me.

On Friday morning, I walked out of my apartment building and, just as the instructions indicated, a large stretch limousine waited out front.

"Isabelle Masters?" a man dressed in a chauffeur uniform asked me.

I nodded, and he held open the door for me to enter. I slid in, finding myself alone. I stretched my legs out in front of me and looked through the tinted windows, feeling like a celebrity as the driver took me to the airport for my trip to Miami, where I would switch to a charter for the short flight to Eden. Besides being in first cla.s.s, which I would never have booked for myself, the first leg of the trip was uneventful.

Hours later, I was driven from the large main airport to a private airstrip. The plane, a seaplane, made me wish for a drink, a tranquilizer, or a potent combination of the two. The plane was too small, and the thought of landing on the water made my stomach dip with sheer nerves. I walked up the stairs, which I knew had been rolled out to the plane, and boarded.

The interior was small and confined, but before I could work myself into further panic, a woman walked out of what I knew was the c.o.c.kpit.

"Isabelle?"

I swallowed over my fear. "Yes."

"I'm Joely, and I'm your pilot." She extended her hand, and I took it. Her no-nonsense grip was at odds with her entire appearance.

She was about my age with light brown, wavy hair, and her uniform, if you could call it that, consisted of khaki shorts and a black polo s.h.i.+rt. I could more easily picture her as an island guide than the woman who would be flying this plane. I played with the pearls at my neck, trying not to show my panic, which had only increased upon meeting her.

"Are you okay?" she asked perceptively.

I nodded. "Do you mind if I ask how old you are?" I blurted out.

She grinned. "Old enough to fly this baby, I promise. I'm a mechanic, and I have experience as a bush pilot. You're in safe hands." She waved hers in the air.

Her confidence inspired more in me. "Okay, then. I hope I didn't insult you."

She shook her head. "Nope. Don't worry, I get those questions a lot. So are you ready?"

I glanced around the empty inside of the vehicle. "I'm the only pa.s.senger?"

The other woman nodded. "It's a fast two-hour trip, so buckle up, and we'll get going."

I did as instructed. I still can't figure out whether I was grateful for the loud noise that surrounded us inside, preventing conversation, or if it frightened me more. I only know that I pa.s.sed the two hours with a white-knuckle grip on the armrests, and I'd never been happier to see land.

The island I viewed out the window was nothing like I'd imagined. The greenery spread out as far as the eye could see, and jutting out from the lushness below, an Irish castle of gray stone sat looking majestic and regal in the distance.

I exited onto a long dock, grateful to be on the ground at last. I waved at Joely, who grinned and promised to return for me when my time was up. I had no idea when that would be.

Even though I was used to Manhattan in the summertime, the island humidity and heat swept over me, and I regretted choosing a pair of silk slacks, like I'd wear to work, and a tank top, which already clung to my b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

Alone on the dock, I fingered the pearls around my neck and looked around, relieved when a man strode toward me. As he drew closer, I realized he wore a cloak of some kind over his head, obscuring his face.

"Isabelle?" he said, sounding sure of my ident.i.ty, as he extended his hand.

"Yes."

"Welcome to Eden."

"I knew immediately he was the elusive Master of the island.

"Thank you," I said.

"Enjoy your time here."

I glanced up at the fantastical castle I'd seen from the air and smiled. "I'm sure I will." I turned to address him again, but strangely, he'd disappeared.

Before I could contemplate that oddity further, a woman approached from the pathway opposite the one the Master had taken. She wore a pair of simple silk khaki drawstring pants and a white sleeveless top, her name tag identifying her as Connie Hendrickson. Dark brown hair had been pulled into a work-friendly, island-necessary bun, keeping her hair off her neck.

She was attractive with a warm smile. "Isabelle," she said with the same familiarity everyone a.s.sociated with this place had used. "Welcome to Eden. If you will come with me, I will show you to your room. Your bags will be brought up shortly."

"Has Lucy Dare checked in yet?" I asked, following her up a narrow, winding pathway.

She turned, her eyes narrowed in confusion. "I don't recognize that guest's name. The Master has placed you in the penthouse," she went on, as if my question hadn't been asked.

"There must be some mistake. I'm here to work. To help decorate the new club opening on the island. Elite?"

The other woman shook her head. I'd obviously asked another question she wasn't aware of the answer to. "I a.s.sure you there are no mistakes made here. You're in the penthouse." Again, she'd ignored my inquiry.

As we approached the castle, sliding gla.s.s doors immediately opened for us, and a blast of cool air a.s.saulted me from inside. I gratefully stepped into what was clearly a lobby. It was darker than I'd expected, and I pulled my sungla.s.ses off, allowing my eyes to adjust as I looked around. Dimly lit sconces adorned the mirrored walls, but I couldn't see myself in what must be tempered gla.s.s.

"We've recently upgraded the room keys, so if you'll just give me your hand," Connie said, capturing my attention.

She snapped a bracelet on my wrist and went on to explain. "Just line up the 'E' to the one on your door and the lock disengages. A little bit of technology we borrowed from Disney," she said with a smile.

I laughed. "This is as far from Disney as you can get," I murmured. "Unless you're in the Haunted Mansion."

Connie merely treated me to her smile. "This will allow you into the spa, the gym, and any other areas of the resort you might wish to visit while you are here."

I would be working, not lounging, but I decided not to question her again. Surely I'd find Lucy soon, and all would be explained.

"Ready to see your accommodations?"

I nodded, and Connie gestured across the lobby. I followed her, surprised when we stopped near a stone wall. "Where is the elevat-"

Before I could finish my sentence, the wall opened, revealing the hidden lift. "Oh my."

We stepped on, and the doors closed behind us. "How thoroughly modern."

"Sensors," the other woman explained.

"Lift your hand and align the bracelet with the penthouse." I did as she asked, and soon we were in motion.

In complete awe, I wondered what awaited me next. I didn't have to wonder for long. The doors glided open.

"Your penthouse awaits," Connie said, sweeping her arm, gesturing for me to go first.

Unlike the darkened lobby, white floors and a wall of windows letting bright suns.h.i.+ne into the room beckoned, and I stepped directly into the luxurious suite. The enormity of the s.p.a.ce hit me at once, and I shook my head, overwhelmed. Marbled floors, mirrored walls, plush carpeting in a living room with a cream couch and dark wood furniture. And a baby grand piano sitting in the center.

"No, this is wrong," I said, turning back to Connie, but the elevator doors finished closing on my words, and she'd disappeared.

Hesitantly and feeling like Alice in Wonderland, I made my way into the suite. Surely the other woman would return and tell me there had been an error and I was in one of the regular rooms on a lower floor. In the meantime, I decided to explore.

I glanced around, making my way to the bedroom, surprised to see that my suitcase had been brought up and placed on a luggage stand near the closet.

"That was fast." And odd, like everything else on the island so far.

Unsure of what to do with myself, especially since b.u.t.terflies had once again had taken up residence in the pit of my stomach, I walked back to the foyer area. My hands went to the faux pearls at my neck, fingering them nervously. I'd bought them with the island-appropriate clothing for this trip.

I looked out the window, the view of the tranquil blue ocean and beautiful island below a panorama of indescribable beauty. Something I'd enjoy more if I understood what I was doing here.

I heard the whoos.h.i.+ng sound of the elevator doors, and relief poured through me. "Lucy?" I asked, spinning around. Finally, everything would begin to make sense.

"Not Lucy." The familiar masculine voice wound its way through my veins, easing my fears, answering every unasked question.

Excitement flooded through me. It had been so long, and I'd missed him so much. To this day, it didn't matter that the time we'd shared together had been brief. To me, it meant everything.

He was just as I remembered, with his stern expression, features carved into what I considered perfection, full lips, strong jaw, and those intense eyes focused on me. A white dress s.h.i.+rt, sleeves rolled immaculately, and black slacks, with more casual shoes than his norm, completed the outfit.

He stared at me, his expression unreadable, maybe even vulnerable, and my heart thudded inside my chest. I studied him in return. His handsome face had occupied every dream I'd had, but he was here now. A reality. My reality, I thought, those sinfully s.e.xy eyes eating me alive.

"Iz."

He held out his arms.

And my world suddenly righted itself once more.

I ran to him and jumped into his waiting embrace, wanting to be as close as possible. I clung to him, running my hands up his strong back, threading up through his silky hair. Hair that had grown longer since I'd seen him last.