His Paradise - Riley, Alexa.pdf

HIS PARADISE ALEXA RILEY

CONTENTS Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Epilogue Her Paradise Prologue Stalk the Author

His Paradise by Alexa Riley Liam Armstrong gets what he wants, but when a small island hotel turns down his offer to buy it, there’s a problem. Now he’s got to fly to the remote town, find the owner, and close this deal. That’s the plan...until he meets the woman who changes everything. Nicole has spent her whole life on the island, and now that her grandparents have passed she’s running the Mermaid alone. She’s out of options and money with a forced sale approaching. But one night at the local dive bar, suddenly all her worries are swept away. Warning: Deception and steam mix together for a dirty good time! This hot getaway is filled with island adventures, filthy fun, and lots of sexy dominance. Grab your sunscreen and dive in!

Copyright © 2017 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to riley_alexa@aol.com http://alexariley.com/ Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental. Edited by Aquila Editing Cover Designer: Perfect Pear Creative Covers

For pizza rolls and diet coke… we couldn’t have finished both of these books in one week without you.

1 Liam Whoosh whoosh whoosh T he sound of the helicopter is making my headache worse. I squeeze the bridge of my nose to try to relieve it, but the pressure doesn't help. “Fucking hell,” I mutter to myself, looking down to the water below. I spot the ferry that goes back and forth to Dynasty Island. I’m pissed I have to come out here. I have better things to do than this. Anything other than spending the next twenty-four hours in a small island town that isn’t easy to escape. And God knows I’m not taking a ferry that would eat up a huge chunk of my day if I had to ride it back and forth. I’m still debating firing Mack at this point. How fucking hard can it be to get someone to sell

you their land when you’re offering double what it’s worth? This should have been handled months ago. I’ve already had to make delays. I thought this would have been over with by now. To top it off, I know the small bed and breakfast is struggling. They have no reason not to sell. From my understanding, the place only has five rooms for rent, and with the stretch of beach they own the taxes alone would eat up every penny the place makes. And then some. But I’m not a patient man. I don't want to wait for the bank to take it so I can come in and buy it from them. That could take months. Maybe even a year depending on what the owner might have up their sleeve. Not to mention it’s a small town and the community might come to back them financially somehow. I want that land and I want it now. Without any problems from the townspeople. I’d counted on having it by now. I’ve lined up contractors to begin the expansion of my current resort that sits next to the small bed and breakfast. I need that land in order to move forward with my plans, but the owner is being stubborn. With the amount of money I’d offered they could buy another beachfront option farther down the road, with money left to retire. They wouldn’t have another worry in the world, yet still they’ve turned down every offer. Even Mack made a trip out there with no luck. Now it’s my turn, and I will come

away with the deed before I leave this island. That’s a promise. Maybe the owners are being greedy and want more money. I’ve got plenty of that. What I don’t have is plenty of time and patience. One thing’s for sure, they’re going to learn that I’ll play dirty if I have to. “We’ll be landing in five, sir,” the pilot says into my headphones, and I nod. I started Luxury Resorts ten years ago after my father passed. I’d taken the small inheritance he left me and started with one hotel. I dropped out of college against my mother’s wishes knowing I needed all my focus on the hotel. I’d been right. Now everyone in the States knows Luxury Resorts and books with us over a year in advance to get a room. I have hotels all over America and maybe one day I’ll expand outside of the country. One of my most popular hotels is on Dynasty Island. The beaches are absolute perfection, but beyond that there’s nothing else to really do in the small town. I don't understand why people love it so much. One thing I do know is we need more rooms. There’s money to be made here and I’m going to make it. I see my resort come into sight as the pilot starts to descend onto the helipad at the back of the hotel. I waste no time hopping out. I pull out my cell phone and call my assistant. “Mr. Armstrong,” Kathy answers on the first

ring. “Keep the helicopter here. I don’t plan on staying,” I tell her, even though I packed a bag just in case. I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. The bag is a precaution in case I get stuck somewhere. I’m going to get in and out of here and catch the helicopter back to the airport where my plane is waiting on standby. “Yes, sir,” she fires back. I glance up and see dark clouds in the distance. “Also, check tracts of land for sale that I could use for a small landing strip. I fucking hate helicopters.” Maybe this could also be a service we offer for our resort guests. The VIPs could get planes in and out without having to use the ferry or helicopter. “On it.” I hang up knowing she'll have an email in my inbox about potential pieces of land by the end of the day. Kathy might drive me crazy at times, but she’s good at what she does. I never have to ask her to do anything twice. It will just be done. I make my way towards the car waiting for me. The driver had been leaning against the side of the vehicle and pushes off to open the back door of the Cadillac for me. “I’ll drive myself,” I tell him. He nods, tossing me the keys. I catch them then walk around and slide into the driver’s seat. It’s only a ten-minute drive, so it shouldn't be

too bad. While my resort and the bed and breakfast bump up against each other, there is still a nice chunk of space between us. There’s no road straight between them, so I’ll have to backtrack a little to get there. I’ve never left my resort area before. I never had a reason to venture out beyond there the few times I’ve come here to check on things, and that was mainly when it was first being built. I told the few employees who know I’m coming to keep their mouths shut about my visit. The last thing I need is some of the people in town to get word that I’m here. The mayor is always trying to corner me into a dinner with him. I have no desire to mix with any of that bullshit. All I care about on this island is my resort. Unless he can help me push the bed and breakfast out and get them to sell to me… Why hadn't I thought about using him before? I could throw a little money at the mayor and maybe things will go over easier. I was told the owner of the bed and breakfast was born and raised here. As was the mayor. With it being a small town, I’m sure he can give them a little push for me. I pull out my phone and hit call.

2 Nicole I stare at the computer screen, wishing things could be different. I love this place. It’s all I’ve known my whole life and I’m going to lose it. No matter how hard I work I just can't dig myself out of this hole. I’m going to lose the only link I have to my family, the place my grandma and grandpa poured their everything into. My heart breaks thinking about them. I try to remind myself that even if I lose this place I will always carry them with me. I hit the close button on our accounting program knowing no matter how long I stare at the screen nothing is going to change. I have months. If I’m lucky. Taxes are due and there’s no way I’m going to be able to pay them. I have no reason to think that something is going to change that might help with the matter. Besides selling this place, and that is the last thing I want to do. Even if I’m being

offered way more than this place is worth. But to me it’s priceless. I force a smile when the Walkers come in. “How was the beach?” I ask, already knowing they loved it. They come here every year for their anniversary. They even got married here twenty years ago. I was only a little girl at the time, but the wedding was a last-minute decision and I ended up being their flower girl. Even after all these years it’s clear to see they love each other just as much as the day they married. Maybe even more. I’d being lying if I said I wasn't a touch jealous of what they have. To always have someone to lean on like that. To love. It’s a love like my grandparents had. Heck, most people on this island are like that. I swear this island holds a special power—when you fall in love it’s forever. I can’t recall anyone on this island ever getting divorced. “Perfect as always,” Mr. Walker says. “That picnic was wonderful, too. Thank you so much.” Mrs. Walker places the basket on the front desk. I take it and place it on the table behind me. I’ll take it back to the kitchen in a little bit. “What was that jam stuff you had in there for the bread?” “Goat cheese and raspberry jalapeño preserves. I made it myself.” I point over to the side table where I have a display of all the different dips and jams I make. I only started doing it a few months

back. Everyone was always talking about how much they loved them and wished they could take some home. It’s actually my favorite thing to do here. When I get lost in the kitchen all my worries melt away. “I’ll be grabbing some of those on our way out tomorrow,” she tells me as Mr. Walker pulls his wife closer to him. He whispers something in her ear that makes her blush. I can’t stop my fake smile turning into a real one at the sight of them. “See you later, Nicole,” Mr. Walker says to me as he pulls his wife towards their room. That is something I’m going to miss, too—all the regulars that have been coming here for years. I drop back down into my chair and sigh. There isn't much left to do for the day. I’ve already cleaned the rooms that requested it. Maybe I should go out for a swim. The ocean always calms me. The phone rings right then and I grab it. “The Mermaid Bed and Breakfast. This is Nicole. How may I help you?” “We’re going out!” Sammy, my best friend, shouts into the phone. “I saw some fresh meat roaming the land and we all know they’ll end up at the Red Din.” “There is always fresh meat this time of year,” I laugh. The tourists are thick around town right now and will be until September. Then they start to dwindle down some and the town goes back to just

us locals. Not that we complain. The big resort keeps the town busy during peak season. But we do like it when off-season comes and it’s mainly all of us again for a while. “Yeah, but this fresh meat looked extra tasty.” I snort. “Don’t laugh at me. I’m still on Mission Pop Nicole’s Cherry—and you’re not going to stop me.” I roll my eyes. She’s been at it for a while. I want to do it just as bad as she wants me to, but my options are limited. I can either sleep with a local who’s slept with everyone else or have a weekend fling with a tourist. I’ve tried the tourist thing, but it never ends up working for me. I either clam up because I get shy or no one ever sparks my interest. Not that Sammy has room to talk. She’s in the same boat as me, but she’s better at flirting than I am. Although it hasn’t gotten her any further. It never goes anywhere for her because no one can hold her attention for long. “Come on. You need a night out,” she pushes, her voice softening. “You haven’t been out since —” She sighs, trailing off, and I know she means since my grandma passed. “All you do is work. You need to have a little fun and let loose.” I worry my bottom lip between my teeth. A night out does sound fun. I could forget about everything for a while. Sammy always makes me laugh and we have fun together. We’ve been that way since we were kids.

“Fine, but no getting us in trouble,” I relent. “I make no promises.” She laughs evilly, then hangs up before I can tell her to forget it. I glance at the clock and know she’ll be here soon to make sure that I’m coming. I love Sammy, but that girl can get us into some messes. We’re lucky the sheriff is in love with her or we’d have spent a few nights in jail for the things she’s got us tangled into. It doesn't help that once I have a few drinks I think all of her ideas are brilliant. Like wrapping the sheriff's car in plastic wrap. The more I think about it, a lot of what we’ve done is directed at the sheriff. Maybe I should start poking into Sammy’s love life like she pokes into mine. She’s had it out for that man since he moved here a few years back. She even lodged a formal complaint against him when he ran for sheriff, saying a non-local couldn't have the job. But there was no one who could run against him. He might not be local, but he’s a decorated Marine, from my understanding. He’d only found out about our little town because of Sammy’s brother Derick, who talked him into moving here after they both got out of the service. Peter strolls into the front desk area. I can tell he’s been studying from the way his short hair is sticking up in every direction. He always runs his hands through his hair when he’s reading something and trying to understand it.

“Nic, can I make myself a sandwich?” “You never have to ask that,” I tell him for the millionth time since he’s become a regular resident here at the Mermaid. He doesn't pay me for his room, so instead he helps me out around here when I need it. He’s good at fixing things for me, even though he’s only seventeen. He gives me a half-smile that I wish I could turn into a full one. “You want one?” he offers. “I’m good. I’m going out tonight.” “I’ll keep any eye out,” he says before I can even ask him. “Thanks.” He gives me a chin nod before heading for the kitchen. I stand and watch him go, and my heart hurts even more. Where would Peter go if I closed this place down? He’s been staying here since his dad up and disappeared, leaving him behind. Peter still has a year of high school left. He’s been studying like crazy for his SATs in hopes of getting some kind of scholarship. He’s a good kid, and I know if something does happen to this place I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure he has a place to go. It’s one of the main things that keeps me pulling up the email offers I’ve gotten to sell this place. If I gave in, I could find myself somewhere else to live here on the island. Help Peter get through school. I’d give anything to be able to ask my grandma what I should do.

3 Liam When I finally find the entrance to the Mermaid, the sky has gotten dark. It’s a combination of the sun setting and the clouds rolling in. Kathy already called me to say that I have to get off the island in the next twenty minutes or I’m going to have to stay the night. It took me more than that just to get to the damn place. It’s so far off the main road, and none of these stupid streets are signposted. I guess they just expect people to find it. No wonder her business is failing. Nobody can find it. The place is literally next door to my resort, but there’s not one good way to get to it. My pilot sends me a text from the mainland saying he’s getting hail and has to put the plane in the hangar. “Fucking great,” I say through clenched teeth. Then another text pops up from the helipad.

They’re packing it in since the storm is moving faster than they thought. I take a deep breath, trying not to let this get to me. I need to remember why I’m here and take care of business. So I have to stay a night on the island? I’ll be out of here at first light. In the meantime, I need to close this deal. Then I can sleep like a baby and never come back. I get out of the car and feel the first drops of rain. I grind my teeth and forge ahead through the line of trees. The only thing I can see from the road is the sign, and even then the place is hidden behind a canopy of old water oaks and Spanish moss. I walk along the sand path and curse it as I get dirt in my dress shoes. Good thing I have a pair of flip- flops in my bag. I’ll need them after stomping around out here. When I break through the foliage I get my first sight of the Mermaid and I stop in my tracks. It’s not what I expected. I imagined an old rundown building that was practically falling in. But it’s nothing like that. It’s a white cottage with wooden shutters and bright flowers planted everywhere. There’s a hand-painted sign above the door that should look cheap but is actually charming. The walkway is lined with seashells, and smooth rocks lead up to the front steps. To the left and right of the main cottage are small boutique rooms that face the ocean. Large palm trees offer shade, and I can

even spot a couple of hammocks in them. The beach here is just like the section I have. It’s flat with white sand, and clear blue water laps lazily as the tide rolls in. The sky is darkening, but still the Mermaid looks like an uncovered jewel on a tropical island. “Damn,” I whisper to myself. How is this place not packed solid every day of the week? As much as I hate to admit it, it’s better than the hotel I’ve created. But maybe it’s because it’s so different. Then suddenly I’m angry with myself at the thought that this place is anything but a roadblock on my way to success. I clench my fists at my side and go through the front door. Inside I find a small reception space with a table next to it. On it are little jars of preserves and dips for sale. I ignore the cute display and personal touches and look to the double doors that lead right out onto the patio. It’s inviting, even as the sky darkens further and the first sounds of thunder echo in the distance. “Can I help you?” I glance back to the desk to see a young man in a baggy T-shirt and messy hair standing there with his eyebrows furrowed. “I’m looking for Marvin Mitchell,” I say. That was the name listed on the deed and the person I need to speak with. It doesn’t matter if this teenager is left running the place, I want to talk to whoever it is that can sign this place over to me.

And it’s not some punk kid. “I’m sorry but he passed away. He and his wife Adora.” The kid’s eyes are sad when he says it, and I wonder if he’s their grandson. “Too bad. Are you in charge?” I should have said something nice, but I forget to be polite when there’s something I want. “No.” I wait for a moment, but he doesn’t offer up anything else. Just gives me the one-word answer. Kathy says I’m an asshole to everyone who meets me for the first time, and most people never change their mind. I try again. “Can you tell me who is?” I look around the room, waiting for a grownup to walk in. Who is this kid and why is he left manning the front desk? “They’re not here,” is all he says as he turns around to walk away. “Hey,” I say, stopping him. I let out a breath and try to soften my words. “I’m sorry. I’ve had a lot going on today and I think I’m stranded here tonight.” The kid looks out at the ocean and then back to me, nodding. “Yep. The ferry called about ten minutes ago and said they aren’t coming back out until dawn.” He walks back to the desk and his face softens a little. “You need a room?” I open my mouth to tell him I’ve already got one, but then an idea sparks. Maybe if I stay here I

can get to the owner either tonight or first thing in the morning. Or at least staying here might give me a bit of ammunition to use when it’s time to make a new offer and get a hold of this land. “Yeah, I do,” I say and pull out my wallet. “Can you do that for me?” “Sure,” he says and clicks some keys on the computer. He tells me how much it is for a night and I almost fall over on the floor. It’s nearly a third of what I charge for my cheapest room. No wonder this place is going under. There’s no one here, and they’re hardly charging enough to keep the lights on, let alone cover the sizeable taxes and insurance. I’ll be doing these people a favor when I write them a check. The kid, who tells me his name is Peter, gives me my key and points me in the direction of my room. I don’t ask him any more about the owner, because any reference to that seems to piss him off. Once I have my key Peter goes around and locks up the shutters. He tells me it’s just a precaution and the storm rolling through won’t be too bad. I nod to him, then I walk down the small hallway to the room at the end. They give out old- fashioned keys at this place. Not key cards like at most hotels. I grumble at not being able to get in my room faster as I turn the key and open the door. When I walk inside I look around and see that the room is clean. He’s given me a large room with

a king-size bed and an attached bath with a claw- foot tub. French doors open out onto a small private patio, and a small path leads to the beach. I look around for something cheap or dirty but find the room in perfect order. “The walls are probably paper thin,” I say to myself, eyeing the dark clouds above the water. It’s too early to go to bed, and I haven’t eaten anything since this morning. I spent far too long trying to find the place that I’m almost hesitant to leave. Peter mentioned that there’s a bar within walking distance, and I expected him to mention the one in my hotel. But he pointed in the opposite direction and said it was called the Red Din. I went out to my car and got my bag before I came to my room, so I go over to the bed now and open it up. It would be better for me to go to a place where the staff doesn’t know me, so I decide to change out of my suit and into something more local-friendly. I pull on a pair of khaki shorts and a white polo then slip on some flip-flops. My blond hair is starting to become wavy in the humidity, so I have to keep pushing it out of my face. Apparently, the gel I normally use doesn’t stand up to the heat of the island. Another reason to get out of here as soon as possible. I grab some cash and tuck it in my back pocket and see there’s no safe in the room. I guess it isn’t so perfect after all.

After I lock my door and walk to the front of the hotel I see it’s already pouring rain. By the entrance there’s a basket full of umbrellas, with a note to take one. I grumble again as I pull the collar on my shirt up around my neck and blow by them. Why are all the little touches so annoying? Can’t they just operate like a normal hotel? The air is muggy as I make my way under the canopy of trees and in the vague direction Peter pointed. Of course, there’s no goddamn cell reception on this island, so I just have to guess where to go from here. Up ahead I see a building with glowing lights and can make out a neon fish on the roof. That must be the place. When I get closer I see the place is basically a shack. The door has been propped open with a few pieces of driftwood, and music is blaring through the open windows. The Red Din is crowded for a weekday and I’m surprised. Is this whole island just one big party? I guess nobody does any real work when the sun goes down. I walk inside, but the place is so rowdy nobody notices. I spot an empty seat on the other side of the bar and have to make my way through the crowd to claim it. Once I’m there I take a seat and then have a good look around. The roof is made of rusted metal, and the sound of rain on it would be nice if it wasn’t for the