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“Why don’t you play something?” Jackson asked Samson, and then told everyone in the room, “He’s an accomplished guitarist.”
“I’m an amateur at best,” Samson insisted.
“He’s being modest,” Jackson countered. “Get on up there and give us a little something.”
Reluctantly, Samson joined the band at the center of the room. The band’s guitarist handed over his instrument, and Samson began to play. Alyson tried desperately to peel her eyes from his sexy face, and she’d never intended to focus so intently on the way his lips curved when he was in his zone. She certainly didn’t mean to stare at his muscular arms, or the way the sleeveless shirt hugged his chest. With his tattooed arms and unshaven face, he was definitely not her type. She preferred her men refined and sophisticated. But she couldn’t help but be impressed by the way he played the guitar and how he meshed perfectly with the other members of the band.
Get yourself together, girl, her inner voice whispered. What in the hell is wrong with you?
She didn’t have time to watch this man play a guitar! He wasn’t even in the band—he was a wannabe. And what was he doing in the Bahamas, anyway? The nuptials weren’t taking place for weeks, and he wasn’t even an attendant in the wedding.
“I don’t need to see anymore. I think this is our band for the reception,” announced Jackson. He then turned to Jasmine. “What do you think, babe?”
“Bravo!” Jasmine clapped her hands as each member of the band took a bow. “I agree.”
At least she agreed on something, Alyson thought as she raised an eyebrow at her indecisive sister. “How about deciding on a wedding dress, boo?” She’d said it aloud before realizing the words had actually come out of her mouth.
“Don’t start, Alyson.” Jasmine pointed a finger at her sister.
“No luck finding a dress today?” Jackson asked Jasmine.
“She’s going to be wearing that tablecloth if she doesn’t choose a dress soon,” Alyson teased.
“I really don’t care what my bride-to-be is wearing on that day, just as long as she meets me at the altar and becomes my wife like she promised.” Jackson grabbed Jasmine from behind and gave her a tight squeeze.
The two moved to the sound of the Caribbean music. Although Alyson rolled her eyes, secretly they gave her hope that love actually was attainable. She was happy for her sister and wished her a lifetime of bliss with the man of her dreams. The two sisters had only recently hashed out their differences and gotten over old wounds, and Alyson was grateful that they were able to put the past behind them. And she was happy to be an integral part of her sister’s life and wedding plans.
“What’s the story on your friend over there?” Alyson asked the question that had plagued her since the day Mystery Man had shown up in the Bahamas.
“He’s my college buddy,” Jackson said.
“Old information. I gathered that days ago,” she told him. “I mean, what’s his story?”
Jackson placed an arm around Alyson’s shoulder. “What exactly would you like to know about him?”
She pulled away and exclaimed, “I’m not interested in him, if that’s what you’re insinuating! I’m just curious as to why he’s here. Normal people have careers and families that prevent them from relocating to a tropical island for an extended period of time.”
“He’s just here for a little while. Needed to get away.”
Get away from what? she thought as she gave Samson another quick glance.
“What happened in Chicago?” she asked.
“Maybe you should ask him yourself,” Jackson said as Samson finished the set and walked up.
Samson gave Alyson a dazzling grin and nearly pierced her with those seductive light brown eyes. He gave her a nod of hello.
“You’re far from a novice, boy. You’re a professional.” Jackson grinned and gave Samson a strong handshake. Then he turned to Alyson. “I’d like for you to meet my future sister-in-law, Alyson Talbot. Alyson, this is Samson. I don’t think I’ve had the chance to formally introduce you two.”
“Pleased to meet you, Samson.” She offered her hand.
He took it and gently kissed the back of it. “The pleasure is all mine.”
She quickly retrieved her hand from the man who’d instantly caused her to feel things—strange things—that she shouldn’t feel when meeting someone for the first time. Samson smiled, apparently completely aware of his effect on her. She rolled her eyes. He was trying too hard, and she wanted him to know that he didn’t stand a chance with her. Maybe if she were a twenty-two-year-old groupie, his charms would work. But she wasn’t twenty-two, nor was she one of those desperate women who threw themselves at the feet of charming men, and he needed to know that. She’d always been one to sift through the smoke screen and get to the heart of the matter.
“Talbot women certainly are beautiful,” said Samson.
She noticed the word Toni etched across his left biceps, and asked herself, Who has the names of their ex-or current girlfriends etched into their skin?
“Alyson is a real estate broker,” Jackson offered. “Her company is quickly becoming the go-to for real estate on the island and abroad. You mentioned taking a look at some beach homes while you’re here. Maybe she can show you around.”
Alyson gave Jackson the evil eye and then looked at Samson. “I generally don’t dabble in the competitive market. But I have a lot of connections and would be happy to pair you with one of my associates who could show you around.”
“I think she just told me that I can’t afford any of the properties in her portfolio but she’d pawn me off on someone who can show me some cheaper ones.” Samson smiled, and the entire room seemed to illuminate.
“I think she did,” Jackson agreed.
“What is it that you do for a living, Mister...”
“Steel.”
“You steal for a living?” she asked.
He and Jackson both laughed a hearty laugh.
“My name is Steel. Samson Steel,” he said.
“Oh.” She felt silly, but offered a gentle smile. “The most modest home in my portfolio, Mr. Steel, appraised at half a million dollars last week. We’re asking much more than that.”
“Great! I’d like to see it.”
He was wasting her time! Between helping to plan a wedding and juggling appointments with clients in Miami and the islands, she didn’t have time to play games with Samson Steel. She pulled a business card from her purse and handed it to him. “My website is on there. Why don’t you peruse the homes on my site and see if there’s anything that you’re interested in? Save us both a lot of time and effort.”
He studied the card. Flipped it over. “So I can reach you at this number?”
“If necessary,” she said.
“Is it your personal cell, or will this take me to voice mail?”
“I don’t do voice mail, Mr. Steel. My clientele is way too important for that. I have a personal assistant who handles all of my calls.”
“Ah, I see,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ll give you a call in the morning. Maybe you can fit me in tomorrow afternoon.”
“Can’t tomorrow. Early afternoon, I have an appointment with a client. And then right after that, I’m scheduled to taste wedding cake with my sister.”
“Um, Alyson... I meant to tell you that we’d rescheduled that appointment for Friday,” Jasmine chimed in. “The bakery called this morning.”
“When exactly were you going to tell me?” she attempted to whisper.
“I called Jules and had her check your schedule, and she penciled you in for the tasting on Friday. So it looks like you’re free tomorrow afternoon...to show Samson some properties...” she caught Alyson’s wicked glance “...or not.”
“Call my office tomorrow, and I’ll try to fit you in.” There was no way out of this one.
“I appreciate that, Alyson Talbot.” He smiled widely again. “I’m looking forward to you fitting me in.”
He shouldn’t get it twisted, she thought. This would be strictly business.
Chapter 2 (#ulink_83949ff5-810b-5c10-8376-784f4913c484)
No doubt, he was enigmatic—it kept people at arm’s length. It allowed him to share only what he wanted others to know. He’d come to the Bahamas where the only person he knew was Jackson Conner, his buddy from college. They’d met at Harvard and had kept in touch over the years. Though they hadn’t spoken every day, he considered Jackson to be a good friend. And he was shocked to learn that Jackson had abandoned his hometown of Key West, fallen in love with a Bahamian girl and taken up residence in the Caribbean. His friend had always been a city fellow. A contractor, Jackson had owned a successful business in Florida and had built some of the finest properties that Samson had ever seen. That is, until meeting Jasmine Talbot.
It was Jackson whom Samson called on the phone that day when life seemed unbearable.
“I never thought you’d leave Florida. And I’m surprised that some woman has snagged you and taken you toward the altar!” Samson had told Jackson.
“I never thought I would, either,” said Jackson, “but love has a way of rearranging your entire life.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m an eternal bachelor.”
“Yep, I thought I was, too,” said Jackson. “You just need to bump into that woman who will turn your world upside down.”
“I’ve had plenty of women turn my world upside down, for a good twenty, maybe thirty minutes.” Samson laughed. “And then I’d roll over and fall asleep.”
“I’m talking about for life, not just in the bedroom,” Jackson said. “You should come over here for a visit, man! It’s the best place to clear your head after everything that’s happened. Besides, I’d really like for you to be here for the wedding.”
“Jackson Conner’s getting married,” said Samson. “Wow!”
“It’s not that far-fetched,” Jackson said. “Now you, on the other hand, you’re afraid of marriage.”
“I’m not afraid of marriage. I just don’t think it’s necessary. There are too many beautiful women out there to settle down with just one.” Samson sighed. “But that’s just the world according to Samson. Obviously you have a different opinion about it, bro.”
“I absolutely do. And you will, too, someday. Some little honey is going to snatch your ass up one day, have you making her an omelet wearing nothing more than an apron and your birthday suit.”
They both laughed. It had been months since Samson had joked like that. There hadn’t been much to laugh about.
“I can’t live without her. I had to make her my wife.” Jackson was more serious then. “She changed my life.”
“I’m truly happy for you, Jax man. I wish you the best.”
“What about you? What’s your next move?”
“Don’t know.”
“Come over here for a few weeks,” Jackson had insisted. “Relax a bit. Get a new perspective.”
“I don’t know, man.”
“I’ll have Jasmine hook you up with a room at the Grove,” Jackson said emphatically.
The Grove was a trio of old homes that had been transformed by Jackson’s construction company into beautiful beachfront properties. Each home had its own distinct personality, theme and name. Ironically, Samson had chosen to stay in the home that happened to share his name, Samson Place. It was tranquil and bold, much like him. Decorated in Caribbean colors—pink, blue and yellow—Samson soon found his temporary home there. After settling in at the Grove, he’d resolved to only return to Chicago when his head was clear, and not a day before.
When he’d first laid eyes on Alyson Talbot, he thought she was beautiful. Her hard exterior was a dead giveaway. She was able to fool everybody else, but he had her figured out from the beginning. She was insecure. He flirted because...hell...he was a flirt. Samson was charismatic and loved women—and they loved him. He knew he’d never settle down with any of them for any significant length of time anyway. So he had fun—enjoyed life. Not because he had a fear of commitment, but because he knew he’d never find everything he wanted in one woman. It was impossible.
As beautiful as Alyson Talbot was, she wasn’t his type. In his opinion, she was snooty and judgmental—two qualities that he wouldn’t tolerate. He’d already read her, and had met a million other women just like her in his lifetime. And concluded that she’d been hurt by someone in her past, which was why she’d decided to take it out on every man alive. And that, he didn’t have time for. He was too busy healing his own wounds, which was why he was in the Bahamas to begin with.
He sat on a stool, the acoustic guitar resting on his leg, his fingertips fretting the strings. He closed his eyes for a moment. Listened as the music resonated through the room. It was a beautiful love song, and the band’s lead singer sang the Caribbean ballad with confidence. When Samson opened his eyes, he caught Alyson eyeballing him from across the room. Her eyes were focused on him, and his on her. For a brief moment he thought she was feeling him. That is, until she seemed to realize she’d stared too long, and looked away. She began toying with her phone.
She was dressed in business attire, and he doubted that she even owned a pair of sweatpants or jeans. She probably didn’t dress down very often. Always on guard, always prepared, regimented. A pair of black slacks hugged her ample hips. A gray jacket barely contained her generous bosom. He thought she was sexy as hell, with long flowing hair, high cheekbones and a gorgeous, fleeting smile.
He wasn’t interested in settling in the Bahamas, but he was interested in getting in between Alyson Talbot’s thighs. If spending time with her meant he had to look at beautiful properties along the island’s coast, then he’d entertain it. Contrary to what she believed, he could own just about any property he wanted on the islands. He’d invested his money well and had built quite the nest egg. He had money and could afford any of Alyson’s properties, but it wasn’t real estate that he was interested in at all. Besides, he was sure that the island life wasn’t for him. After all, he was a big-city man with big-city hopes and dreams. And the thought of living on an island seemed too constricting.
Chicago had been his home all of his life. He grew up in Hyde Park. His grandfather Conrad Steel had served for many years as a Chicago police officer before retiring. His father, Cecil, had followed in his footsteps, and joined the force at a young age. Becoming a police officer had never been Samson’s dream, and even with the pressure of preserving the family’s tradition, he chose law instead. He’d attended the University of Chicago on a music scholarship, with hopes of becoming an accomplished guitarist. However, an undergraduate law class had changed all of that. Becoming a lawyer was inevitable at that point.
He hopped down from the stool and handed the acoustic guitar back to its rightful owner. Shook hands with every member of Onyx, the band that had welcomed him like an old friend. He talked music for a few minutes with the band members and exchanged phone numbers. He laughed with them as they all promised to get together again.
“I’m thinking you should play with us at the wedding,” said Justice, the band’s guitarist. “I have an extra guitar.”
“I think that would be great,” the lead singer, Kosmo, agreed.
“I brought my own guitar with me. It’s in my room.” He rarely traveled anywhere without his cherished instrument, affectionately known as Bailey. “But I don’t think I’m quite ready to play at the wedding.”
“Why not?” asked Kosmo. “You’re no amateur.”
He looked across the room at the spot where Alyson had stood playing with her phone. She was gone.
“You were absolutely wonderful,” said Bijou. Her gentle hands caressed his back, as if it was the most natural thing in the world for her to do. The Caribbean beauty had been a beast on the drums. With copper-colored eyes, a petite frame and a head filled with curly tresses, Bijou was drop-dead gorgeous.
“Thank you. You’re quite the musician yourself. How long have you played?”
“All my life,” she said, and then changed the subject. “How long will you be on the island?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” It was an honest answer.
“Maybe I could take you on a tour of the island. Show you around a bit.”
“So you live here?” He disregarded her invitation. Needed time to absorb it.
“I’m here in the Eleuthera temporarily. I’m from Cat Island. Are you staying here—at the Grove?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Good! I can pick you up tomorrow evening. I’ll show you some of the best beaches on the island.” She wasn’t shy at all. “Wear your trunks.”
He was intrigued by her wickedly sexy smile. A cropped top revealed toned abs; a silver ring pierced her navel. Tight denim shorts hugged her hips, and revealed a set of smooth, cappuccino-colored legs. A heart-shaped tattoo played peekaboo on the inside of her right thigh. Samson couldn’t wait to kiss his way from that heart all the way up to her sweet spot.
“I’ll wear my trunks,” he flirted. “Will you be wearing yours?”
She moved closer in, brought her lips to his earlobe and whispered, “I usually don’t wear anything at all when I swim.”
