Dangerous Exes (Page 29)

Isla laughed. It felt good to hear her laugh.

I relaxed even more just as Vanessa rounded the corner and pulled up a chair so close that when she bent over, my mouth almost touched cleavage. “Hey there, stranger.”

“Vanessa.” I kept my voice soft, smooth.

She dropped the card onto the table. “You probably shouldn’t be sending a drink when you’re in such a committed relationship.”

I leaned back. I knew how to play her game. “And you probably shouldn’t accept a drink from your ex-husband when you’re in such a loving one, right?”

Her chin lifted a bit. “Wayne is fantastic.”

Isla gagged in my ear.

“Oh, I bet he gives you things I never did.” Like sex and at least twenty different STDs.

Her eyes narrowed. “Why are you here?”

I leaned back to put some much needed distance between me and her Chanel perfume. “Can’t a man enjoy a drink by the pool?”

“At the same hotel I’m staying at?”

I just shrugged.

“Jessie.” She placed a hand on my thigh, and it took every ounce of strength I had not to react and shove her chair into the pool. “It’s over between us, sweetie.”

Oh God, I could strangle her for using that voice, the one she reserved for small children and old people.

I gave her the most humble smile I could, one that looked regretful, possibly . . . sad, and then shrugged. “I know that.”

Her eyes softened. Had I blinked I would have missed it.

“There you are!” Isla rounded the corner looking hot as hell in a white bikini top with a white sarong around her hips. All I saw was skin—everywhere—a woman in nothing but a bikini, see-through sarong, and red heels.

Give a man a warning next time!

I gaped.

Vanessa cleared her throat.

I ignored her, I couldn’t pull my eyes away from Isla.

Isla leaned down and pressed her left hand, the one with the rock on it, on my cheek, then kissed me full on the mouth, turning only briefly to wink at Vanessa. “Thanks for keeping my man company.”

“Funny”—Vanessa clenched her hands onto the chair—“since he was my man when you started screwing him.”

“Now, Vanessa,” Isla said in a soothing voice, “we both know that isn’t true. Besides, wasn’t it Blaire that you threw at your own husband in hopes he would stumble and fall? Proving infidelity?”

Vanessa gritted her teeth. “Does it really matter?”

“The truth always does,” Isla said sweetly.

“You wouldn’t know the truth if it slapped you in the face.” Vanessa shoved past Isla hard enough for Isla to get pushed against me.

“That went well.” I sighed and ran my hands through my hair.

“I know!” Isla seemed a little too excited that my ex didn’t confess a thing and that she had seemed more pissed than I’d seen her in a while. “I can’t believe she reacted so quickly!”

“Were we at the same meeting?” I looked around. “She said it didn’t matter and called us liars.”

“Nope.” Isla leaned forward and patted my cheek once. “She got a bit vulnerable, and she doubted some choices, it was in her eyes, then I swept in and she got jealous, then pissed off. It’s the perfect combination. She’ll be thinking about nothing else all day, and she’s bound to do something stupid. It will get worse before it gets better, but I know just how to push her off the edge. It’s in the job description, or the contract, then again you never signed one, so . . .”

“Because you’re the reason I’m here,” I confessed in frustration.

Isla took a sip of water and then stared me down. “One day, Jessie, I hope one day you’ll stop blaming what you can’t control for why your life is out of control.”

I jolted at her words as they hit their mark, making my body stiffen with shame and anger. “Maybe one day you’ll stop hiding behind your schedules and highlighters to live life without a plan.”

Her face fell.

“Um,” said Blaire, still in my ear. I grabbed the earpiece and tugged it out, throwing it onto the table. Suddenly exhausted.

“Our rooms are ready,” Isla finally said.

“Isla—”

“Always with the apologies.” She smiled sadly. “This one’s on me, though, I’m sorry for being too honest too soon, and I’m sorry it forced you to do the same.”

I stood and wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I don’t wake up wanting to hurt you.”

Isla laughed. “Yes you do! You wake up every morning wanting to destroy my business!”

“No I don’t,” I said honestly. “Lately I’ve been waking up with an aching cock and visions of red, but that’s probably not something we should discuss with you wearing only a patch of clothing on your body.”

Isla shivered. I felt her body react with desire so poignant the air shifted between us as we walked.

“Good job, guys.” Blaire said. She and Colin were waiting in the lobby with all our suitcases. “Room keys, our suites are connected, try to keep it down.”

“Shouldn’t we be saying that to you?” I said.

Blaire just gave me a knowing smile and waved us off. “Don’t forget dinner tonight, we’ve got reservations next to their table.”

“Can’t wait,” I said under my breath, my skin still crawling with the need to take a long hot shower.

I glanced at my room key and froze.

Isla grabbed her bag before I could grab it for her. “What’s wrong?”

“Same room?”

“Engaged.” She held up her finger and then smiled. It wasn’t a real smile, it was a fake one, the one I hated because it meant I’d been a complete dick and caused her to shut down when it came to us.

It was the last thing I wanted.

I trusted her even though I didn’t want to.

I wanted to believe she could fix this.

I just didn’t know how.

And it frustrated me that she was right, that my blame was misplaced, but it made me feel better if I could point a finger at someone else rather than look in the mirror in defeat.

“Let’s go.” She nodded to the elevators.

I followed her in silence, the elevator music was an instrumental version of “SexyBack,” by Justin Timberlake. Classy stuff. We finally made it to one of the executive suites. Isla immediately went into the bathroom and started a shower.

Guess I was going to have to wait until she was done.

It was torture imagining her rubbing soap up and down her body, and me pulling the string of her bikini with my teeth while watching water cascade down her belly, streaming between her legs.

I gripped the edge of the couch just as she rounded the corner. “Shower’s ready for you.”

“Aren’t you?” I pointed at the shower. “Aren’t you, um, going to wash up?” I could see her nipples through her white top. I didn’t have the power to look away, I really was a dick, wasn’t I?

She shrugged. “I have some work to do and a bottle of wine calling my name, take your time. Plus you looked uncomfortable.” She whispered the last part. She could probably sense my discomfort at being near Vanessa, my need to wash away the past so desperately that I was itching. The fact that she got me on that level made me feel even worse for my mood swings.