The Tycoon's Seductive Revenge (2 page)

Compounding this was her refusal to leave the island. She would not become another casualty, like the rest of her family, punished by the curse that afflicted the Montgomery’s when they left this small sanctuary. The only place Ellie had ever called home.

Her fate would be played out here.

And right now the investor in Suite 1A could make a difference in the course of her life. She marched up to the door of that “someone’s” room. She knocked. After thirty seconds, she knocked again.

“Hello? Sir?”

Her knuckles ached with the third and fourth knocks, which were loud enough to echo through the hall and disturb the sconces flanking the door.

“Hello! Is anyone in there?”

No answer.

Against policy, she swiped her all-access card. When the light flashed green, she pushed the door open and entered cautiously.

“Sir? This is management,” she called out.

The only response came from pipes overhead, clanking and rattling as water rushed through the antiquated plumbing. She winced, recalling the pipe that burst last winter, almost a year ago. The hotel had shut down for two weeks. The leak was repaired, but their finances never recovered.

“Are you here?”
Please be here
.

No reply.

She ventured further into the impressive main room of the suite, which maintained its French-Colonial décor from the hotel’s history. Moving past the velvet chaise lounge, Ellie nudged open the closet door. No clothes hanging, no luggage thrown open on the luggage rack. Hopes fading, she entered the master bedroom suite.

There, she froze.

The door to the master bath stood wide open. A cloud of steam hovered in the air, raising goose bumps on her arms. The clean scent of warm towels and tea tree soap preceded the image of male perfection that appeared before her.

Her mouth parted, but no sound followed. She shamelessly stared at the man’s immaculate body. His thick biceps expanded and contracted as he towel-dried his hair. The way his eight-pack abs flexed as he moved. His chiseled muscular chest.

Fingers trembling, she restrained her desire to run her hands along that hard expanse. She melted a little imagining how it would feel to be held by those arms, close to his strength, sheltered from her fears of the future and the pain of the past, his damp naked skin gliding against hers.

Her eyes followed droplets of water that cascaded down his torso, wet trails she envisioned following with her lips. Her attention slid below his waist. She blinked. Her mouth fell open.

Suddenly, every refined muscle in his body went rigid.

Ellie’s gaze snapped up, her cheeks burning with embarrassment. In the next moment, her blood turned to ice.

Piercing gray eyes took her breath away. Turbulent, fierce and compelling, like the ocean during a storm.
Like Carter Stratton
.

A strangled word wheezed out. “How...?”

The angles of his face softened slightly, but those eyes remained sharp, calculating, like a hawk targeting its prey. Ever so slowly, he slid the towel down from his ruffled hair, drew it along his chest, finally tucking it around his waist. An obnoxiously confident smirk lifted one corner of his mouth.

Was he taunting her?

Ellie didn’t feel mocked, she felt intimidated. He had changed. “Carter, what are you doing here?”

Ignoring the question, he asked, “Is this the new wakeup call?” He stepped toward her, droplets clinging to the spiked ends of his hair. “I think I like it.”

The closer he came, the further she retreated. “This isn’t—I’m not here to—”

“I think you are.”

Her shoulder blades hit the wall.

He didn’t stop until his hands were flattened on either side of her head. “You’re here to pick up where we left off.”

“I didn’t even know you were coming!”

Eyelids lowering, he murmured, “Not yet, but we can work on that.”

“Carter,” she hissed.

He grabbed her chin, angling her mouth up to him. God help her, she wanted him to kiss her. So badly she ached from head to toe. It seemed like ages since she’d felt such a strong sexual response to a man.

Her lips trembled. “I—”

“Why the hesitation? You knew this day would arrive.” His body came up solidly against hers. Ellie stifled a moan. “Remember what I told you twelve years ago?”

She nodded shakily.

“I always keep my promises.”

The instincts of terror and surrender collided inside her. “I know,” she whispered.

“Still, you’re surprised to see me.” His unshaven jaw scraped along her cheek. His breath was warm and tantalizing against her ear. “Why is that, Eleanor Grace Montgomery?”

Ellie cringed at the use of her full name, a burden of expectation few people understood.

Carter pulled back, perhaps interpreting her response as rejection—the way he’d misinterpreted her actions years ago. He thought she’d abandoned him when she told him goodbye. In truth, she was protecting him.

Regardless, his eyes didn’t waver from their target. He didn’t even blink. She shivered.

Chill warning resonated in his voice. “I’m back to take what was denied me.” His grip tightened on her chin. Their lips nearly touched. “Including you.”

After they’d parted on miserable terms, she swore she’d never be that vulnerable to a man again. But her frozen limbs and speechlessness betrayed her.

Did he know? Did he have any idea how painful this was for her?

She tilted her face up to him. His gaze flicked to her lips. Without thinking, she closed her eyes and waited for the press of his mouth.

Suddenly, he released her. Her eyes flew open and she watched him saunter back into the master bath. He slammed the door.

Ellie recoiled as if she’d been slapped. In the span of five minutes, an old scar had ripped open inside her.

Heart throbbing, she exited the suite. As she traveled the hallway toward her uncle’s office, the floor felt uneven beneath her feet.

She had no idea what was going to happen now. However, she recognized one certainty—whatever transpired in the next five days, Carter Stratton would be at the center of it. For better...or worse.

*

              Carter opened the bathroom door two minutes later. Ellie was gone.

Something strange happened in his chest, a pinching sensation he didn’t like. He brushed it off. Now that he was back on the island, he could sever the final thread tying him to this woman.

Swiping his cell phone off the bedside table, he hit number one on his speed dial. The island’s remoteness delayed call connection for a full minute. When it did connect, the line sounded scratchy.

Yet no amount of static subdued the voice on the other end that picked up. “Stratton, where in the hell are you?”

Carter shoved the phone to arm’s length to avoid bursting an eardrum. He set it on the countertop and pressed speaker phone. “Neville, I want a progress report.”

“When I told you to lay low, I didn’t mean fall off the face of the earth.”

Carter smoothed a dollop of gel through his hair, styling the dark blond strands. “I said I’d be in touch.”

Neville sounded like he was choking. “Haven’t you bothered to check your account? Voice mail? Email?”

              “Nope.” Carter pulled on a pair boxer briefs. “Enlighten me on your progress.”

“The funds are still tied up.”

“And?” Carter lathered shaving cream in foam circles across his day-old beard growth. “What are your plans?”

“It’s Sunday. Nothing can move until tomorrow.” The phone echoed with the weak connection. “Last night my friends mentioned they may buy off the environmentalists.”

“Forget it.” Carter scraped his razor under his cheekbones, along his jaw, up the arc of his neck. “I don’t want to be associated with your ‘friends.’”

“But think of it, Carter.
Fifty-million
.”

“And my reputation will be worthless.”

“We’ve worked on this for six months!”

“I don’t pay people off to get what I want—I make the right decision the first time.” Carter finished shaving and tapped his razor on the edge of the sink.

“So that’s it. You’re scrapping six months of effort. For what?”

“Another hotel.”

“
What?
” Neville roared. “Please don’t tell me you’re on El Dorado Island.”

Carter rinsed his face, patting it dry with a towel.

Neville took his silence as guilt by omission. “Are you an idiot?”

“Only when I listen to you, and ignore my instincts.”

Unfazed, Neville reminded, “You’ve never put pleasure before business.”

“I have the chance to accomplish something no amount of money can compensate. I’m taking it.” Carter dunked Armani
Code
cologne on his hands and slapped it along his neck. The scent of almonds and cinnamon mingled with woodsy undertones. He swept it down his pecs and torso, following the thin line of hair that drifted from his navel to below his waistline. “The Montgomery Hotel is better than Pierce.”

“The place is a dump! Only naïve investors would consider it. You’re better than that.”

“Maybe. Maybe not.”

“Why in the world would you—?” Neville paused then let out a maniacal laugh. “It’s about that girl, isn’t it?”

Carter ground his teeth. “What about her?”

“Fine, get her out of your system. Enjoy your make-up sex. Maybe then you’ll concentrate on real prospects.”

Carter grabbed the phone. “Don’t tell me how to run my life. Handle my money and do your job.”

He ended the call, tossing his cell onto the marble sink counter to avoid throwing it across the room. He didn’t need advice. He knew exactly what he was doing.

Pulling on a pair of Michael Kors jeans, he zipped the fly. His mind went to his encounter with Ellie. He’d nearly lost himself in the way her body had felt pressed against his. Then she’d lifted her lips to him, and he wanted to take her right there against the wall. He’d almost given in
again
to that electric obsession he’d always had for her.

“Damn.” He gripped the counter.

He forced himself to tame the primal response. Locating a Calvin Klein shirt, he shoved his arms into the white oxford and fastened the buttons down his chest.

For now, he had to portray his presence on the island as a business venture. Independent of his personal plans.

Before his purchase went through, he’d bring Ellie to her knees. And afterward, he’d leave her stranded the way she’d left him. Desperate. Shaken. Bitter. Empty inside.

Five more days.

The seductive power of revenge filled him with determination. He tucked his shirt into his jeans, fastened his belt, grabbed his leather jacket off the back of a chair and set out to find the object of his discontent.

Chapter 2

Ellie spent the rest of that afternoon making beds, cleaning bathrooms and avoiding Carter Stratton. She threw her angst and sexual frustration over the encounter with Carter into making every room on the second floor spotless, and also to reimburse Matilda for the flowers she’d bought on Ellie’s behalf.

She was on her knees, scrubbing the bathroom floor in Suite 223, when the door swung open. She froze as her uncle stepped into the room—with Carter behind him.

Oh, no
.

They stopped and stared at her. Her uncle, bewildered. Carter, amused, his eyes glued to her backside.

Blushing profusely, Ellie struggled to her feet, dusted off her yoga pants and ignored the quirk of Carter’s lips. He used to wear that expression when they were in a crowd, separated by necessity so her father wouldn’t find out about them, yet one of Carter’s sizzling looks told her how close they’d be once he got her alone.

Carter’s grin widened as he remarked, “Personal wakeup calls
and
stunning views.” He nudged her uncle, who coughed uncomfortably. “I like what you’ve done with the place. A guy could get used to this.”

Uncle Russert addressed her with a hard stare over his rimless glasses. “Eleanor, what are you doing?”

She stammered, “It’s...I’m—Matilda needed time off.”

“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Carter said, his gaze trailing up and down her body, taking stock of her disheveled state. Her hair thrown back in a careless ponytail, her breasts visible under a thin white t-shirt. Embarrassment flooded her when she realized her nipples were showing through her sports bra.

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is there something you need?”

“Do you really want my answer to that?” Carter murmured with sexual undertones.

Her uncle must not have heard him. “Eleanor, why do you do this to me? Every time I need to impress an investor, you find some way to embarrass me.”

“Hold on,” Carter interrupted. “It’s not a big deal.”

Russert whirled on him. “Wait in the hall, please. I need to have words with my niece.”

Carter hesitated, glanced at Ellie, then shrugged and walked out. Ellie wished Carter had stayed to play mediator between her and her condescending uncle. Once, Carter would’ve put himself between her and any threat. She braced herself for Russert’s temper.

When the door clicked shut, Russert’s face contorted with wrath. “Do you want to lose everything? Do you want your father’s dreams to rot in a foreclosed ruin because you couldn’t bother to make sacrifices?”

Ellie’s set her hands on her hips. “All I’ve made is sacrifices since you came to handle Daddy’s estate.”

“Use your head, Eleanor!” He loosened his tie, easing the blistering pressure that reddened his face. “Act like a woman who needs the mercy of a man with money. Not the princess my brother made you into.”

Although his words chafed her pride, she notched up her chin up. “You’ve lowered yourself to insults to make people do what you want?”

“It’s not me who refuses to leave this island.”

Ellie bit her tongue. He was right. Maybe there were other opportunities beyond the shore of this island, but she was too terrified to make that leap. Especially when both her parents had died while crossing its oceanic mote.

“You’re not living in a protected bubble anymore. You’re like anyone else about to lose her job, her home, and her last chance to walk away with a little cash to start over.”