Brenda Jackson - Bachelor Undone

Damn, the woman was too beautiful for her own good, York thought, watching the elevator door close behind Darcy Owens. Beautiful with a smart mouth, a delectable looking mouth. More than once he’d been tempted to kiss it shut and to demonstrate just what he could do when his tongue connected with hers.

But then he had to remember that Darcy was too brash and outspoken to suit him. He didn’t want a “yes” woman by any means, but he didn’t want a woman who would dissect his every word looking for some hidden meaning. For some reason, she couldn’t take things at face value when it came to him, and he couldn’t understand why.

If he had the time, he would put it at the top of his list to seduce the smart-mouthed Darcy Owens just for the hell of it. If she wanted to misbehave, he could certainly show her what misbehaving was all about. But he had to remember she was the best friend of his godbrother’s wife, and Ellie probably wouldn’t take too kindly if he seduced her best friend just for the hell of paying her back.

He was about to head over to his side of the hotel when his cell phone rang. He pulled it off his belt and saw it was Wesley Carr, one of the retired police officers that he used as part of his investigative team. It had been his father’s idea.

Jerome Ellis had retired a few years ago as a circuit judge. He was a firm believer that retired police officers could better serve as more than just bailiffs at the courthouses. Most had sharp minds and loved the challenge of working on a case. York had taken his father’s advice and hired three such men at his firm and never regretted doing so.

“Yes, Wesley, what you got for me?” York asked.

“First of all, are you taking those vitamin supplements I told you about?” Wesley asked.

York shook his head. One of the pitfalls of hiring the men was that they liked to run his life by making sure he got the proper rest, ate healthy and didn’t overdo it when it came to women. They claimed all three things would eventually take a toll on a man.

“Yes, I’m taking them, so what do you have?”

“I think Damien Felder might be your man,” Wesley said with certainty.

“Why?”

“He has a ton of gambling debts.”

York rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “He’s a gambler?”

“Of the worse kind. Although he’s tried covering his tracks, I was able to trace his ties to the Medina family.”

“Damn.” The Medina family had their hands into anything illegal they could touch. York hadn’t gotten wind of them involved in movie piracy before now, though. Mainly it’d been drugs, prostitution and the transportation of illegal immigrants.

And Roswell Medina’s name had been linked to the homicide investigation involving Rhona, the only woman York had ever considered marrying. Like him she had been a police officer and had gotten struck down by a bullet when she had investigated a robbery. The authorities believed the rash of burglaries in Harlem had been organized by Medina but could never prove it.

“I can see them getting interested, if they had the right person on the inside to help them. It’s evidently a profitable business,” York added.

“Apparently.”

He inhaled a deep sigh. He knew Damien Felder would be the one to watch for a while. “I want all the information you can get me on Felder’s association with any of the Medinas.” He would just love to nail any member of that crime family for something, even if it was for jaywalking.

As he headed back toward his side of the hotel he thought about Darcy and doubted the two of them would be running into each other again any time soon.

Hell, he hoped not.

A twenty-piece orchestra on the beach.

The hotel had thought of everything, Darcy concluded as she stepped outside. Everyone had been told that tonight’s affair was all glitz and glamour, and everyone had dressed to the nines. Men were in tuxes and women were in beautiful gowns. She had decided to wear the short white lace dress and silver sandals she had purchased a few months ago when she had joined Ellie on a shopping spree when she’d visited her best friend in Charlotte.

With a glass of champagne in her hand, Darcy made her way down the white stone steps with towering balustrades on both sides. She could see the beach and see how the water was shimmering beneath the glow of the moon. To her right, tables of food had been set up, and shrimp, lobsters and oysters were being steamed on an open fire.

For those not wanting to get sand in their shoes, a huge wooden deck had been placed on the ground, and several light fixtures provided just the right amount of light to the affair.

She was about to grab another flute of champagne from a passing waiter when she happened to glance across the way and saw a man looking at her. He looked American and she placed his age in his late thirties. And she had to give it to him—he looked like a million bucks in his black tux.

But compared to York there was something lacking. He was handsome, although he wasn’t of the jaw-dropping kind like York Ellis. And she would have to be the first to concede that even with all the stranger’s handsomeness, she couldn’t even conjure up what hero he could represent from those tons of romance novels she had read. She’d had no such problem with York.

She bit down on her lip wondering why she’d just made the comparison. Why had York even crossed her mind? The stranger smiled over at her, and she smiled back before another partier walked up to him and claimed his attention. At least it hadn’t been a woman. As she sipped her champagne, she saw him glance over her way, as if assuring himself she was still there—still unattached, possibly still interested.

Deciding not to appear too interested, she began mingling, enjoying the sights and sounds. Moments later, she was leaning against a balustrade watching a group of the island dancers perform. Their movements were so romantic and breathtaking beneath the stars.

“I can tell you are enjoying yourself,” a deep, husky male voice said.

The first thought that flashed through her mind was that it wasn’t as deep as York’s, and it wasn’t making her skin feel like it was being caressed. Pushing that observation to the back of her mind, she looked up at the stranger she’d seen earlier and asked, “And just how can you tell?”

“You have that look. And whatever the cause of it, do you mind sharing it because I’m simply bored.”

She fought from shaking her head. She had heard that pickup line so many other times, surely the man could have thought of something else. But she could go along with it for now. “Then I guess I need to make sure you enjoy yourself as much as I do.”

He smiled, flashing her perfect white teeth. “I would definitely appreciate it.” He then held his hand out to her. “I’m Damien Felder, by the way.”

She returned his smile. “And I’m Darcy Owens.”

“Please to meet you, Darcy. And is that a Midwestern accent I hear?”

“Yes, it is,” she replied. “And yours is part southern and part western.”

Instead of saying whether her assumption was correct, he took a step closer to her. “Are you staying at this hotel?”

She didn’t have to wonder why he was asking. The man was a fast mover, and she had no problem with that if her vibes had been in sync with his. They weren’t for some reason. “Yes, I’m at this hotel. What about you?”

“No, my hotel is a few miles from here. I was invited tonight by a friend. But an emergency came up, and he had to leave the island. He encouraged me to come anyway. He thought I would enjoy myself. I hadn’t been until I saw you.”

She smiled. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. And why would a beautiful woman travel to this island alone?”