Ocean of Love Read online

  “Mr. Herndon, here is my curriculum vitae and list of references. I’m certain you’ll find more than enough about my credentials to assuage any of your concerns.”

  “Nice stationery.” He ignited her the second she stepped close enough to inhale his masculine scent. Their fingers grazed, lightly touching but enough to cause of gush of warmth to suffuse her cheeks.

  Her whole body responded to Wyatt on a level she’d never experienced. Insult to her injury worsened when his gaze dropped to her chest or rather, her erect nipples, which pressed out from behind her blouse. Her face continued to burn hotter while she slipped on her jacket.

  What did he possess that provoked such an intense response from her? Her breasts swelled inside her bra and ached for release. Wyatt’s whole flinty manner promised friction and heat leaving her a wooden matchstick, dipped in red phosphorus, ready for action.

  She considered removing herself from the project when he uttered, “Well, darling? Care to divulge the details?”

  That idea lasted all of five seconds before she succinctly redrew the boundaries of their business relationship.

  “Old enough to be considered the best at locating ocean-front property.” She returned his arctic glare, twirling a pen between her fingers. “I’d like to review our contract, considering we’ll be handling the construction loan procurement. I see you finally responded to my email only moments before this meeting. There are two properties I’ve located. They’re off the market and, once listed, will be readily snatched up. Our timeline is shrinking.”

  Heck, she might not be some alpha realtor. Neither was she about to let some man—with a chip on his shoulder—push her around. Huge real estate client or not, she’d worked her tail off to earn her real estate and broker’s license specializing in commercial property acquisitions along the Gold Coast. She’d earned realtor of the year for South Florida based on hard work, not some personality contest.

  “This is quite extensive,” he said perusing the pages. “Industrious, aren’t you?”

  She discreetly studied Wyatt while he read over the contract and enjoyed the slight widening of his eyes as he watched the brief presentation she had prepared for the two beachfront properties she believed were perfect for his project.

  “This was just a preview. The sites are a short distance away. If you’d care, I can take you over to each one.”

  “You shoot from the hip don’t you? Give me a second to call my financial advisor. She’s with Sinclair. These two sites are more than promising.”

  “I’m glad you’re interested.” Her words were boulders in her mouth. She stunk at chitchat, but with this man nothing seemed to come out as she intended. He laughed. “You could say that. I’ll call my team to get moving on the construction loans. Excuse me.”

  Despite his teasing words, it was common knowledge Wyatt Herndon detested screw-ups. His company had developed beachfront property on several continents. He built not only condos. but a ruthless reputation in business deals.

  While he talked with his financial advisor, Marissa stepped out into the hall and sent an email to the site managers with an initial proposal to purchase. She had no time to waste and angled her foot in the theoretical doorway of the properties under her wing. Later, she could always retract a bid. She had less than a few hours to lock up this deal. Once the properties were listed, they’d be out of her control. And control was the lynchpin of her existence. She stepped back inside her office inhaling the air. All her senses were redrawn to her client.

  Wyatt smiled over at her with a wicked curl of his lips, sending a quiver of delight throughout her body.

  Mercy please. With each step back to her desk, the rubbing together of her thighs sparked slivers of ecstasy spasming between her legs. Self. Control. Not so easy with her new client.

  He stood as she entered her office. She slid past him but not before something warm swept over her neck. Had he touched her or was it her imagination? She glanced back at him only to meet his innocent countenance.

  “Are you always this prepared for your clients, Miss Silverpointe?”

  Heck no, she silently screamed. His lips quirked in just the right way, and she held her breath. Somehow he knew she was a house of cards waiting for a swift wind.

  “We’ve no time to waste considering the properties are under the radar. You’ll have to make an offer by this evening. Once they’re on the market, we’ll have no pricing control. As you’ve required a cash discount, we’ll need to move pretty quick. I suggest a site visit. Afterwards, you’ll have what’s required to make your decision, Mr. Wyatt.”

  “I’d enjoy seeing the properties if you’ll agree to show me. Nothing like undeveloped beauty. And call me Wyatt.”

  He toyed with her. Damn. Damn. Double dammit. Unfortunately, she’d unwittingly allowed Wyatt’s origami way of disarming her to take hold. Her insides slithered and swam in his presence, a feeling of going hot and wet all at once.

  She didn’t comprehend how he had the ability to make her disregard her work in the few minutes of knowing him. For some inexplicable reason, she longed to have his hands on her body, his mouth up against hers, whispering naughty suggestions.

  A blaze of heat swam over her skin from her head to her heels. She picked up a contract and fanned herself. If she didn’t reel their relationship back to a hardline sales contract, he’d have the power to snap his fingers, and she come running.

  Wyatt softly laughed. “Marissa Silverpointe. What shall we do?”

  She fumbled with a paperclip. “We’d better get moving considering our timeline.”

  “I’ve got a proposition for you.” His penetrating gaze made her mouth go dry. He paused as though he sought to craft his next words. The paperclip slipped from her fingers.

  Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair. “Yes, go on.”

  “Tell you what, give me your undivided attention for the next two days, and I’ll give you my undivided attention in so far as real estate deals in the future. I plan on returning to South Florida in March. I’m looking to buy in Fort Lauderdale.”

  “I don’t need an incentive.” Marissa bristled.

  His incredibly sexy mouth kept calling her attention, and the way her gaze kept colliding with his made her go breathless. She couldn’t risk exposure to something she didn’t understand. Not with the warning signs flaring inside her body. More than that, she couldn’t agree to give him undivided attention. Not with her full moon swim tonight. How could one man be this difficult?

  “Undivided attention? Surely, you don’t mean literally.”

  “I mean side-by-side for the next forty-eight hours. You ever pull an all-nighter or two?”

  “No. Not even in college. I’ve always planned my time wisely, but you’re my client. I doubt this deal will come to an all-nighter this evening. Of course, I’m game for bringing in this sale to help you. So, yes. I’ll do whatever it takes.” Minus working late tonight.

  If this meeting came to an all-nighter, she’d think of something to tell him. She’d cross that bridge later.

  “Miss Silverpointe, consider yourself on my exclusive team.” He spoke her name in the most decadent way and stuck out his hand, displaying a well-developed forearm and muscular bicep.

  She swallowed, staring at his strong palm. He might sound playful, yet if she messed up, he’d have her by the throat. She expected a cold encounter akin to grasping steel. She was unprepared for the sizzling shock of touching his hand. A warm, electrical skittering crossed from his palm into hers. He squeezed her hand, sending shivers racing across her body.

  She let go of his hand. “I’m pleased to work with you.”

  He pushed back into his chair, appearing more relaxed, and smiled warmly at her for the first time since they’d met. His expression made it difficult for her to breathe.

  “Together we can take in the property sites? I’ll play developing-condo-tourist, and you can elucidate me as the professional realtor. No harm there. So often I tra
vel without seeing anything new. In truth, so much travel in securing property sites has me somewhat on edge. Forgive me if I’m uptight. I blame jet lag and poor hotel food. My staff can tell you, I’m just a loud bark without the bite.”

  The way he spoke and the lopsided quirk of his decadent lips made her forget to focus on anything aside from his face.

  “Business trips can be rather dry and long,” she agreed. “Let’s go see the properties.” She stood and retrieved her bag off the credenza.

  He lifted off the chair and came up next to her. “I hear Miami has a Latin flair. A rather spicy side. Will you show me the way?”

  She turned toward him, hugging her bag. “Come with me, Mr. Herndon.”

  His breath heated her neck, heated her whole body, and she yearned for him to do more than tease.

  Chapter Two

  Marissa’s hubcaps screeched against the sidewalk curb. She rolled her eyes, wrenching the gear shift into park. She surveyed the street along Ocean Drive. Near to lunchtime, and South Beach appeared free from the usual, weekend crowd. Her stomach growled, not from hunger but another round of live-wire nerves courtesy of her newest client. She pushed a pair of aviator sunglasses up the bridge of her nose, checking the rearview mirror.

  “Where in the world is he?” She groaned, craning her neck and searching for her client’s black Hummer.

  Just relax. She tucked a few curling tendrils back into the bun pinned above her collar. Her glance shifted from the street toward the boardwalk and beyond to the stretch of glittering sand. Turquoise waves lapped at the shore.

  The same rhythm repeated inside her chest. The noon tide meant swifter waves, stronger currents. Beads of perspiration framed her face all the way down her neck, spilling between her breasts. She shivered, even though the temperature soared inside of her car, and sweated what felt like tiny ice-chips.

  Marissa didn’t budge, sitting with the windows rolled up and the engine turned off. She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles hurt. This was South Beach for goodness sakes, not a jungle along the Nile. Only a couple of hours away from the Full Snow Moon. The name many tribal groups called February’s lunar cycle.

  To her it was the Full Hunger Moon—the one night during the year when her blood raced through her veins. Her usual deep-freeze libido ramped into overdrive and she was filled with an undulating ache to find a mate. As of the last hour, her existence became nothing short of horny-hazed, while the space between her legs pulsed.

  Her plans for the night included babysitting her client. She’d been insane to agree to an all-nighter. She snorted. Her client wasn’t the type who required a sitter. Jesus Priest, the man was a go-getter, more the type who’d entertain a woman or two. Her mind stopped at the thought of her client entertaining several women at once.

  “Mmmm,” she sucked her bottom lip remembering the delectable way he smelled up close.

  He was a knock-out for a hard-hitting property developer. Regardless of his fiery gazes and quick comebacks, underneath his charm a predator waited for the first slip-up. Then, Ka-Pow. She didn’t need another problem today.

  Still no sign of him. She tapped her fingers on the steering wheel, mentally checking off her to-do list. Her thoughts drifted to his muscular body and satanic good looks. A spasm of pleasure moved down from her chest to the space between her legs. She squirmed on her seat, unable to stop the pulsation moving all the way down to her feet.

  She was well aware her client-fantasy had little chance of materializing. Marissa grimaced, holding back a groan of frustration. Who in the heck would take her on if he knew the truth? Any man with his head screwed on right would pass on her dilemma. Her thoughts kept returning to one man who seemed capable of commanding any situation. She pressed the top of her thighs, enjoying the idea of him naked between her legs.

  Jesus, if she shifted there’d be nowhere for him to go. Would he straddle her? What did a man do with a mermaid during sex? She frowned, imagining the look on his face. His arrogant expression would surely fracture in seeing her true nature come to life.

  Her lack of experience with sex made her more than fearful about giving in to her urges. She was ignorant to the possibility that she might spontaneously shift during the act. She glanced down at her legs, wondering what Wyatt Herndon would utter with his smart-aleck mouth if he knew how her lower appendages transformed into a tail.

  She lived alone, had no family—no one to ask. This wasn’t exactly something she could post online and wait for a response on a social media outlet. She avoided dating and especially romance, leaving her a single, floundering mess. She swam round and round inside a sexual conundrum. Not an easy problem to solve, regardless of living just east of Miami—the city of sin, decadence, and Cuban coffee. So far, this cosmopolitan oasis didn’t have a dating solution for this single siren.

  Marissa hadn’t sulked, but dove into the world of real estate and left sex on the shelf. Until today, it had never actually bothered her. Until Wyatt had shown up in her life.

  She put aside all thoughts of sex with the jarring reminder: at this exact moment, she was in charge of closing this sale. All she had to do was show Mr. Herndon these two pieces of perfect, ocean-front property. She may not schmooze clients, but she had developed connections by working after-hours in other ways besides drinking and dining. These two sites weren’t officially even up for sale. Yet. She had her bases covered in that department. Ruefully, she inhaled . If only her client were so easy to manage.

  Her esteemed client was still missing in action. How hard had it been for the man to follow her from point A to point B? Another sure sign that finding and keeping a man required more than promises. Handcuffs came to mind. Her chest tightened. Wyatt seemed the type of man who’d more than likely relish such toys. She exhaled and promptly banished the thought of him and a whip.

  Think business. Properties. Codes. Anything. Her client’s property development timing was utter genius.

  She gazed back toward the shore. Her decision to bring him down here was less than genius. Contemplating the ocean, she was torn between an urge to heed her natural inclination—to stay away from the seashore during the day—and the desire to advance her career.

  All she had to do was lock up this real estate sale. The solution equated to securing her future. She’d never be frightened into a corner, almost caged by her own nature. Simple really, if she could ignore her growing attraction to Wyatt.

  She exhaled an uneven breath. Wyatt terrified her. During the middle of the day, the ocean terrified her more. So far, Wyatt had not covered her body to the point of exhaustion. A point in his favor. The thought sent a blaze of heat skating over her skin.

  The surf rose and crashed, over and over. She remembered being tossed up on shore as a small child. Oh no, the overwhelming feeling of claustrophobia appeared out of nowhere.

  Silly, that’s just silly. She countered her fear. No one would remember that day long ago. She bit the edge of her lip, staring at the horizon.

  “Please, please, please.” She prayed. No amount of silent coaxing or reminders settled her sense of dread at that moment. The memory of being an exhausted child clinging to the seaweed and sand along the shoreline until someone had found her appeared as vivid as the day it had happened. Without warning, her fear brewed and bubbled to the surface, prickling her into a bout of nerves. Or worse, a prisoner of an anxiety attack. Whether true or imaginary, she tasted salt on her tongue whenever the memory infiltrated her thoughts.

  She licked her lips, and then closed her eyes, counting from one to ten. The memory loomed, and she felt as though she were surrounded by a crowd of tourists. Imaginary voices, similar to the ones who had gathered along the shore when she lay scared and trembling, filled the space. Cries of disbelief filled her imagination, demanding to know why a naked girl had washed up on shore. Frightened and desperate, Marissa shivered just as she’d done alone on the shore years ago. Rapid, shallow breaths rose and fell inside her chest; a virtual st
orm within her body and mind. Nearly ungrounded, she verged on hyperventilating and fought for control. Banging her head against her fists dissipated the vision.

  Breathe. She repeated her mantra for the hundredth time. She willed the images to disband. She envisioned her office in an attempt to ground herself. She focused on the items on her desk, the feel of her swivel chair moving from side-to-side.

  A rhythmic knock erupted from somewhere near her trunk. Marissa jumped and glanced over her shoulder. A pair of khaki trousers flooded the driver’s side window. Her car door opened, followed by the rush of beach-scented air. She would have bolted from the car had her path been clear.

  “Damn, I thought you ditched me, darling.” Wyatt’s twang and masculine scent washed over her.

  Words shot out of her mouth as though infused by a double-shot of espresso. “I presumed you had to take a call. I programmed the address into your GPS and sat tight, knowing you’d be here sooner or later. As you can see, there’s more than ample parking in the off-street garages. A plethora of restaurants and shops cater to residents and tourists. The foot traffic isn’t overrunning the place, which is good, considering your objective.” She cleared her throat, hoping her voice leveled out. “The site is utterly stunning, wouldn’t you agree Mr. Herndon… Wyatt?”

  His steely gaze seemed to contemplate what she’d uttered. How in the heck had she become head realtor of this deal? She stared at her emergency sack, folded and tucked by the side of her seat. She doubted shoving the brown paper bag against her face would fill her newest client with much confidence in her abilities. She put the thought away and sucked in a deep, slow breath.

  The man’s shadow fell over her as he bent down. She peered up into his face and her breath caught in her throat. Something in his manner exacerbated her hunger for hot, mind-blowing sex.

  “Are you going to give me a tour from the front seat of your car?” He chuckled. “I promise not to bite.” He smiled secretively, and then whispered almost beyond earshot. “Too hard.”