Can passion in paradise become a forever love?

Sasha Winters has it all planned. She’ll spend two days—exactly forty-eight hours—in the Bahamas for her sister’s wedding. Then it’s back to her hectic life as a lawyer on the fast track to partner. But when a storm strands her on an exotic island, Sasha’s suddenly giving in to her sensual side and making moonlit magic with Vince Sullivan, a man she barely knows.

The groom’s best man, Vince, hasn’t given up on finding that special someone. It could be Sasha—if she’d allow herself to feel the full force of their chemistry. Determined to liberate the passionate woman behind the workaholic Atlanta attorney, Vince storms every last one of Sasha’s defenses. Yet can their growing love survive, even as a crisis forces Sasha to choose between her lifelong ambitions and a lifetime of love?

“You are…something else.” Sasha smiled and shook her head, finding herself more engaged than she wanted to be.

She raised her glass to alert Jake that she needed another Brown Russian. Before long she’d polished off three. Suddenly Vince’s jokes became outrageously funny, and Sasha laughed long and hard—and loud. Vince pulled his chair around closer to Sasha, until she could feel his breath on her neck. His cologne crept its way into her nostrils.

“You smell wonderful,” she whispered.

His lips pressed themselves against hers, and his tongue teased the inside of her mouth. Whatever good sense she had was out the window as Vince took her to a new level of delight. His huge hand palmed her head and pulled her closer, and she wondered what that hand would feel like on her breast and even between her thighs. It had been a very long time since she’d even been kissed by a man. With his gentle touch, Vince had awakened every sensation in her, and she got lost in the moment. She simply got lost.

MONICA McKAYHAN

writes adult and young adult fiction. She currently has nine titles in print. Three are adult novels, and six are a part of an ongoing young adult series, Indigo Summer, and one young adult title, Ambitious. Indigo Summer was the launch title for Harlequin Kimani’s young adult imprint, Kimani TRU, which made its debut in January of 2007. That same year in May, Indigo Summer snagged the #7 position on the Essence bestsellers list, another first for Kimani Press. It also appeared on the bestsellers list of Black Issues Book Review (BIBR), and was on the American Library Association’s list of Quick Picks for Reluctant Young Adult Readers for three consecutive years.

She is a Certified Toastmaster (CTM) with Toastmasters International, and is also a member of the Black Women’s Film Society. She lives in the Dallas area with her family.

To schedule an appearance, book a signing or interview with Monica, please email publicity@monicamckayhan.com.

Tropical Fantasy

Monica McKayhan

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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Dear Reader,

Thank you for picking up Tropical Fantasy. As always, I appreciate your support.

Hopefully you will live vicariously through the lives of Sasha and Vince as they discover one another in the beautiful Bahamas. Sasha’s a workaholic and is tough as nails, no doubt, but underneath that exterior she’s vulnerable, as many of us are. She’s convinced that she doesn’t need a man—she simply needs her career. Making partner is the one thing that matters in her world, and there’s no room for anything else. Vince is the perfect hero—the man’s man. His charm will make your stomach tingle and your toes curl. And when you read the love scenes, you’ll wish you were on Paradise Island with the two of them. Neither of them is perfect, yet by the story’s end, they find that they’re perfect for each other.

I hope that Tropical Fantasy will take you to places that you’ve never been before. It certainly took me to new heights in my writing process. My characters are always flawed, because people in general are flawed: there are no perfect people. That was the easy part. And I’ve always written about love. But the challenge in writing romance (for me) was taking sensuality to new levels—building characters that are comfortable in their sexual skin. If you’ve read any of my other books, you know that I’ve always held back, given just a little bit to be desired. Oh, but not this time. Tropical Fantasy will have you on the edge of your seats with every kiss, every whisper, every lovemaking scene.

I would love to hear from you! Visit my website at www.monicamckayhan.com and reach out to me. I also have a Facebook page and a MySpace page, and you can follow me on Twitter. Let me know what’s on your mind.

My best to you always,

Monica McKayhan

God is the source of my talent and blessings.

My husband, Mark, makes sure that I have a comfortable environment in which to create my stories. My family is my backbone and motivation. Without the support from you guys, I wouldn’t be able to do this. I love you!

This is for you, Granny. I miss you, but I’m glad that you left me so many little pieces of you. My life is so rich

because you were here.

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Epilogue

Chapter 1

Sasha glanced at the chipped nail on her right index finger. As much as she hated to admit it, she was in desperate need of a manicure. And she didn’t even want to think about the ingrown toenail on her left foot. She also needed a pedicure something terribly. Arriving in time for the spa day with the rest of the bridal party wouldn’t be all bad. In fact, it would be a welcome treat considering she hadn’t visited her manicurist in the shop around the corner from her East Marietta subdivision in quite some time.

As she leaned back against the seat, she responded to a few emails from her iPhone and then sent her assistant, Keira, a text message asking her to reschedule her afternoon appointments. She sighed as she took a sip of her half-caf Americano and allowed her body to sink farther into the seat. She was exhausted, having spent most of the night packing—she’d sipped a cup of international coffee and stuffed clothing into her luggage well into the wee hours of the morning. Before long she’d fallen asleep fully clothed. Thankfully, she’d remembered to set her alarm clock.

She’d rushed to take a hot shower, and just as she’d put the finishing touches on her makeup, her doorbell rang. Peeking through the blinds, she spotted the charcoal-gray Lincoln Town Car parked in front of her house—the driver, a middle-aged black man dressed in a black suit, stood on her doorstep. Embarrassingly, she’d fallen asleep right there on the backseat of the car and didn’t wake up until the Lincoln pulled up in front of Hartsfield-Jackson International Airport.

“We will now begin preboarding for Flight Number 1487 to Nassau, Bahamas...” The loud female voice shook Sasha back to reality.

After slipping her iPhone into a small compartment on the outside of her purse, she stood with her boarding pass in hand—it wouldn’t be long after preboarding that first-class passengers would begin their ingression. She was anxious to get on the plane, because she knew that sleep would find her before the captain turned on the Fasten Your Seat Belts sign, and long before the flight attendants asked what she wanted to drink. She’d sleep through the entire flight and be refreshed when her little sister met her at the gate.

Her little sister was getting married, she thought and smiled. Little Bridget, who once wore French braids with colorful beads on the ends. She was the tenderhearted one who always cried during the hair-combing process—she always made such an unnecessary scene. Their mother would be so frustrated after dealing with Bridget that Sasha would end up with four cornrows down the center of her head instead of the French-braided love knot that she wanted so badly.

Bridget was definitely the baby of the family. She had their parents wrapped around her skinny little finger. Even now, as she insisted on a big wedding in the Bahamas instead of a quiet little ceremony at their family’s church in Fayetteville, she’d far exceeded the budget that their father had set aside for her. And Sasha wondered if there’d be anything left for her in the event that she decided to get married someday. Although it seemed like a ridiculous thought at the moment, she hadn’t completely ruled it out. However, she’d created a little nest egg of her own, just in case.

Soon she was on the plane, and as expected, slept through the entire trip. Next thing she knew, she’d arrived at her destination.

Nassau, with its arresting views of palm trees and clear blue skies, was exactly as Sasha had remembered it. Her family had vacationed there a few times and stayed at the same resort where Bridget’s nuptials were scheduled to take place in the next day or two. She quickly gathered her luggage and stepped outside to look for her sister, who’d promised to meet her at baggage claim. Bridget was always fashionably late for everything, and Sasha often teased that she wouldn’t make it to her own funeral on time. She glanced at her watch once more before pulling her iPhone out of her purse to give her sister a call.

“Hello, Sasha,” a deep voice was saying, and when Sasha looked up she was staring into the deepest pair of brown eyes she’d ever seen. “I’m Vince. Vince Sullivan.”

“Oh, yeah, Derrick’s friend,” said Sasha.

“I was sent by the bride and groom to pick you up and ensure your safe arrival to the resort.” He grinned a beautiful set of white teeth. His dimples were like little chocolate valleys, and Sasha couldn’t help but stare.

“You’re late,” she said.

Towering almost two feet over Sasha’s small frame, Vince smiled apologetically. “I’m sorry. I was asked at the last minute to pick you up as a favor to the bride. She had to rush off somewhere in a hurry—something about shopping for women’s undergarments.”

“Great. She could’ve just told me to grab a cab.” Sasha sighed. “You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“It’s okay, really. It wasn’t very far. This is an island,” he chuckled.

Sasha didn’t find a bit of humor in his comment, nor did she find it cute that her sister had sent her fiancé’s best friend to fetch her from the airport. She tried with everything in her to be annoyed, but every time she caught a glance at those sexy brown eyes, she found herself mesmerized. He awakened things in her that she didn’t even know were there, and it confused her. As an attorney, she took pride in being in control, but something about Vince made her anything but. His presence made her unsettled, a bit anxious. She couldn’t understand it at all. What was wrong with her? She’d seen handsome men before. In fact, she’d met Vince before—on a couple of occasions.

Their first meeting had been a nightmare for Sasha. She’d backed into his car while trying to parallel park along the street in front of Derrick’s condo. She’d been apologetic, yet he’d made her feel as though she’d committed a crime. He’d accused her of being too preoccupied, and she thought he was making too big of a fuss over a small ding.

“You can barely see the scratch,” she’d said.

“This is a custom paint job,” he’d claimed, “Do you know how much this is going to cost to repair?”

“I have insurance,” Sasha spat. “I’m sure they’ll take care of it.”

And they had taken care of it, sending her premium through the roof. She’d developed a strong opinion of Vince in the process—he was arrogant.

Today he seemed much taller, and way more gorgeous. And had he always owned that deep set of dimples? She couldn’t, for the life of her, remember seeing them before. She was being ridiculous! Simply experiencing jet lag. And for that, she had the perfect remedy—a nice, long afternoon nap once she made it to her hotel quarters.

“Is this your only bag?” Vince was asking as he grabbed the handle of her suitcase.

“Yes,” she replied and suddenly wished she’d gone to the restroom and freshened up a bit, checked her hair. She hoped it wasn’t all over her head or smashed down in the back from the snooze she’d taken earlier.

She followed Vince to the silver Mercedes that was parked curbside with the flashers on. He popped the trunk and placed her bag inside.

“Can I take your smaller bag too?” he asked, pointing at her carry-on Coach bag. She handed it to him and he placed it in the trunk also. He moved around to the passenger’s side of the car, which happened to be the opposite side of cars in the United States. He held the door open for her until she slid onto the leather seat. She watched as he took his place behind the wheel of his rented vehicle.

“Doesn’t it confuse you—driving on the opposite side of the car?”

“I love a challenge.” He grinned that mesmerizing grin again.

“It seems silly, especially when most car rental places offer cars that are created the right way.”

“The right way?”

“Yes, with the steering wheel on the proper side of the car.”

“Proper according to whom?” Vince asked.

“According to car makers in the U.S. of A.,” said Sasha.

“Last time I checked, we weren’t in the U.S. of A.” He maneuvered the car into traffic and spoke in his best Bahamian dialect. “Ve’re in da islands of da Bahamas, with its clear blue skies, sandy beaches and da best conch fritters dis side of da hemisphere.”

Sasha laughed—she couldn’t help it. He sounded so ridiculous, yet he was cute in his own little way. And he had a sense of humor.

“Yeah, I wish I was on the other side of the hemisphere—in the U.S. of A. right now,” she said.

“Instead of here...in the beautiful Bahamas?”

“Yes, this wedding couldn’t have come at a worse time for me,” Sasha complained.

“Really? Why?”

“My office is hosting its annual retreat this weekend in Savannah, and I’m missing it. My sister’s nuptials are putting a real damper on my schedule,” she mumbled.

“Wow, you must be a workaholic,” said Vince.

“I’m not a workaholic. My career is just very important to me.”

“It’s your sister’s wedding. Isn’t that important too?” Vince glanced over at Sasha and pierced her with those brown eyes.

“Of course it’s important. It’s just...I just...well, it was just not a good time for me.”

“Are you really that shallow?” Vince asked. “There’s nothing more precious than family.”

Had he just called her shallow?

“I beg your pardon. You don’t know anything about me! And I’m not shallow.”

“I’m sorry for calling you shallow. I meant to say that you made a shallow comment.”

“I’m just saying...why couldn’t she just do a simple little ceremony in Atlanta? Why fly to another country just to say ‘I do’?”

“You should consider it an honor to stand up for your sister on such an important day.”

“I have things going on in my life right now,” Sasha retorted. “And this trip here, right now...this is inconvenient.”

“That’s too bad,” said Vince. “You’re completely missing it.”

“Oh really?” Sasha asked. “So I guess you have it all figured out.”

“I have a pretty good handle on things. I know what’s important. In fact, when Derrick asked if I could fly to the Bahamas and be the best man at his wedding, I didn’t give it a second thought. I knew I had to be here.”

“How noble of you,” Sasha said sarcastically and then stared out the window at the palm trees as they rushed past. She was done talking to this man.

An awkward silence suddenly resonated through the car, and Vince adjusted the volume on the stereo. As the sound of Caribbean rhythms filled the air, Sasha pulled her iPhone out of her purse and checked her email. The music wasn’t very successful at drowning the silence, and the short drive seemed so much longer than it really was. Sasha wished her sister hadn’t sent Vince to pick her up from the airport. She’d have been more comfortable taking a taxi. At least the driver would’ve kept his opinions to himself.

“I have to make a quick stop along the way,” Vince said. “I hope you don’t mind.”

“You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Not at all. Won’t take but a sec.”

Soon Vince pulled into Potter’s Cay, the island’s fish market and fruit stand tucked away under the Paradise Island Bridge. Potter’s Cay, a place where Bahamians shopped for the fresh catch of the day and the freshest produce on the island, was an attraction that Sasha and her family had visited on occasion.

“What are we doing here?”

“I’m in the mood for fresh snapper.”

“Fish?”

“There’s nothing like it.” Vince smiled as he turned off the engine and removed the keys from the ignition. “Let’s go.”

“Let’s go?”

“It’s pretty hot, and you’ll roast in the car without air-conditioning.” He smiled but still seemed adamant that she get out of the car.

She immediately caught the smell of conch fritters and fried fish. She and Vince strolled along the sidewalk, taking in the eclectic stalls where food vendors sold their freshly cooked items. Friendly female vendors sat placidly in front of fruit and produce stalls bursting with bananas, plantains, papaya, red peppers, tomatoes and yams. In front of many stalls were cages of swarming black crabs and other seafood. Fishermen in rubber boots hoisted giant bags of fresh fish and cleaned the catch of the day with sharp knives right there as customers looked on.

Interspersed among the row of stalls serving cooked food were several stands selling fresh fish. The constant calls of “fresh fish, fresh fish,” were heeded by car after car of customers who pulled up next to the street-side stall for plastic bags filled with fresh snapper.

Vince stepped up to a fresh fish vendor and said, “I’d like a pound of snapper, please.”

“Some fresh conch salad too, sir?”

“Yes!” he exclaimed and gave the brown Bahamian woman a warm smile. “I love it.”

“What about you, my lady?” The woman smiled at Sasha. “Fresh conch salad or a conch fritter?”

“No, thank you.”

“What? You have to have one or the other,” said Vince.

“I don’t...I don’t eat that.”

“I’ll have conch salad,” said Vince, “and one for the lady too.”

“I said I didn’t want any,” Sasha said, but Vince wasn’t listening.

The Bahamian woman handed each Vince and Sasha a bowl of the native fare. Sasha reluctantly took hers, wondering who Vince thought he was—ordering for her like that and insisting that she taste something she wasn’t accustomed to eating. He was presumptuous and arrogant, she thought. But she tasted it, and it was delightful against her tongue. She’d never tried it before; the name conch just didn’t appeal to her. She’d always wondered how something with such an ugly name could possibly taste good.

Not wanting Vince to know that she was enjoying her salad, she toyed with the fork a bit, picking over the food. They moved down the sidewalk to a fresh produce stand, where Vince purchased tomatoes, bell peppers and onions. He seemed to know his way around the island and carried himself as a native. If it weren’t for the crisp slacks, polo shirt and shined shoes that he wore, he could’ve easily been mistaken for an islander. The precision haircut and carefully manicured nails were a dead giveaway also. She immediately admired his confidence, although she hated to admit it.

“So, obviously you cook,” Sasha stated.

“I do,” Vince said. “What about you?”

“I dabble a little. I always said that if I didn’t make it as a lawyer, I’d become a chef.”

“What’s your specialty?” he asked.

“Deep-dish pizza,” she boasted, “and I make my own crust.”

“Really? That’s impressive,” he said. “Are you part Italian?”

“No,” she answered with a laugh. “What’s your specialty?”

“Fried chicken, fried fish, fried pork chops...”

“Don’t you know that fried foods are bad for your health? That’s why everyone in the black community suffers with high blood pressure.”

“I know, but it’s so darn good,” he admitted. “My arteries are probably already clogged with fried fish grease.”

“You should try baking your chicken, fish and pork chops,” Sasha said. “It’s much healthier.”

“I’ll consider that,” he said. “Maybe you can show me how it’s done.”

Sasha realized that she’d let her guard down and needed to put her wall of resistance back up. She said, “I doubt it.”

* * *

“Velcome to da Bahamas,” said the chocolate-brown man as he swung her door open and held it for her while she climbed out of the car. He wore a red concierge uniform, with a name tag that read Robert. Robert’s graying hair and beard seemed to be a little matted, but his eyes were a pair of the friendliest ones that Sasha had ever seen. “Right this way, please.”

He escorted her through the massive lobby, with its buffed floors and modern furniture. Women in short skirts moved their hips to the sounds of Caribbean music being played by a live band. As the music filled the air, a young woman greeted her with a tray filled with beverages.

“Rum punch, my lady?” the woman asked in a soft voice.

Sasha checked her watch. It was nine-thirty in the morning, a bit early for something harder than orange juice.

“Sure. What the heck?” said Sasha as she grabbed a glass and headed for the counter to check in.

A group of women dressed in bikinis and giggling like teenagers headed in her direction.

“Sasha! You made it.” Bridget was wearing a white bikini with a blue sarong draped across her hips. She gave Sasha a tight squeeze. “I’m so glad you’re here. Your mother is really working my nerves—between her and Aunt Frances, I don’t know who’s worse. But you’re here now. You can run some interference for me. Give them someone else to drive crazy.”

“Hey, Sasha.” Their cousin Vanessa popped up from among the crowd and hugged her. “Girl, we have to do something with this hair of yours.” She brushed Sasha’s bangs from her face.

“Our hair appointment is at eleven. Will you be checked in and ready to go in an hour?” Bridget asked.

“I’ll do my best.” Sasha managed a smile and then caught a glimpse of Vince.

He was engaged in a conversation with the concierge, and she couldn’t help but stare. Her eyes traced his hairline and then made their way down to the curve of his strong cheekbone.

“Did you hear me, Sash?” Bridget was asking.

“No, I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“Was Vince the perfect gentleman? I warned him to be nice.”

“Oh, yeah. He was just...fine,” Sasha said, “but next time, I can get a cab. It wasn’t necessary for him to come.”

“He insisted,” Bridget explained. “Besides, he rented that stupid car and thinks he knows his way around the island.”

“He can pick me up anytime, anywhere with his fine self,” said Deja, Bridget’s friend since elementary school. Even with a full figure, she still managed to squeeze an oversized set of caramel-colored breasts into a yellow bikini top. “He doesn’t even know how fine he is.”

“Don’t be so brazen, Deja,” said Kim, Bridget’s tall, slender friend wearing a one-piece bathing suit. She pulled her long sandy-colored hair into a ponytail. “Less is definitely more.”

“Sasha, we’ll meet you here in an hour. We’re taking a water taxi to the salon,” said Meka, Bridget’s other maid of honor. She was carrying a notepad and following along on Bridget’s heels.

“Fine, I’m gonna get a shower and relax for a minute. I’ll see you all later.” Sasha smiled and then took a long sip of rum punch.

Chapter 2

The view was breathtaking—a picturesque scene of turquoise waters and white sand. Sasha wanted nothing more than to slip into a sundress—one of six that she’d purchased at Macy’s last summer—and relax on her patio for the rest of the morning. She opened the blinds in the living room of her condo to let the sunshine in, and then hit the power button on the stereo. She slipped her shoes from her aching feet and brushed her toes against the red carpet. The decor in the condo was beautiful—a mixture of tropical colors: red, blue, yellow and green. She danced her way into the bathroom and started the shower.

As the warm water began to cascade over her body, thoughts of Vince popped into her head. What was he doing there—in her head? Especially when she didn’t particularly like him. He’d been rude and insulting. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t get his face out of her mind. He was sexy and had a great smile—the two things that she found most appealing about a man. The two things that were at the top of her list, just below intelligent, educated and successful. But he couldn’t be all of those things without substance. He needed a heart and soul. He had to have character and love his mama. And he couldn’t be boring. He needed a sense of humor, and he had to be romantic.

She knew it was a lot to ask, which is why she’d been single for so long. She wouldn’t settle again. Not as she had with Kevin. He’d been sexy all right—taught her to explore her own body and to let go of her inhibitions. He was even intelligent and educated, but that’s where it stopped. His soul was empty, and he had been selfish. He’d hung on to her coattail for years with talk of doing something with his degree in architecture, but never following through. She’d funded too many business ventures that had nothing to do with architecture, and all had failed to produce any substantial income. But she loved him, and for that reason she hadn’t seen any of the red flags.

She stepped out of the shower and wrapped the thick robe around her body. The local radio station was playing a Rihanna tune and Sasha sang along. She pulled her laptop out of its bag and logged on, deciding to answer a few emails before meeting Bridget and the crew in the lobby. She decided to give Keira a call and see if she’d received any messages.

“You are on vacation, Miss Thing. Why are you calling me?” Keira asked, with attitude. “Do you know how expensive international calls are?”

“I’m just checking in,” Sasha explained. “Anything going on?”

“Nothing I can’t handle. You having a good time?”

“The weather is beautiful, and I love my condo,” said Sasha.

“But?” Keira detected something in her voice.

“I need to be in Savannah for that retreat. I feel like Kirby’s up to something.”

Kirby. The Antichrist is how Sasha often described her. She came on board soon after Sasha had been promoted to senior associate. She had been an intern—fresh out of law school. Sasha had taken Kirby under her wing and taught her everything she knew. She immediately liked Kirby because she was energetic and ambitious, yet modest and conservative. She was like a sponge, absorbing everything, and Sasha loved her enthusiasm. She wasn’t even surprised when Kirby was quickly promoted to junior associate. But soon after Sasha noticed a change in Kirby—her long conservative skirts soon became four inches shorter and her blouses became more tight-fitting and showed more cleavage than necessary. And she was spending way too much time with the firm’s senior partner, Kyle Johnson. With the two of them behind closed doors, it was obvious that something more was going on than practicing law. And when Kirby became a senior partner in half the time it took Sasha to achieve such a feat, she knew she’d have to step up her game just to stay above water.

Sasha didn’t have a problem with Kirby’s accomplishments—even if she had pretty much slept her way to the top. But it was the sudden cockiness and the disrespect that Kirby displayed toward Sasha that she couldn’t deal with. It was as if Kirby had forgotten where she’d come from and had made it her point to compete with Sasha on every little thing. She wanted the corner office with the view that Sasha had had her sights on since the day she’d walked into Johnson, Johnson and Donovan. With older partner Louis Johnson retiring soon, one of the two ladies would be promoted.

“Of course she’s up to something. She wouldn’t be Kirby if she wasn’t. But you’ll be there soon enough. I have you booked on a red-eye tomorrow night. You’ll be there first thing Saturday morning. You won’t miss a thing,” said Keira. “If anything goes down before then, you’ll be the first to know.”

“Okay.”

“Now, please try and enjoy yourself. You’re in the Bahamas, for crying out loud! And it’s your sister’s wedding. Try to be there for her, Sasha.”

“I’ll do my best,” Sasha said, smiling at her assistant’s advice.

Over the past two years, Keira had become more than just an assistant. She’d become Sasha’s friend—someone she trusted and confided in. If anyone knew Sasha well, it was Keira. Keira could see right through Sasha’s hard exterior. As soon as Sasha made partner, her first business decision would be to give Keira the raise she deserved. Being a single parent with three children made it hard for Keira to make ends meet, but Sasha intended to change all that.

“Now, get off my phone, Sasha Winters. You are not allowed to call me anymore today. Unless you’re calling to tell me that you met some sexy Caribbean hottie on the beach and he’s about to ravish you without mercy.”

“You’ve been reading too many romance novels,” Sasha said with a laugh.

“It could happen,” Keira said. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a client on hold. Take lots of photos and send me a few by text message.”

“Will do.”

“And Sasha—” Keira put on her serious voice “—try to have fun.”

“I will.”

She hung up, logged off of her computer and decided on a strapless white sundress.

* * *

With a few minutes to spare, Sasha decided to take a quick tour of the resort. She took in the gorgeous palm trees blowing in the wind just outside her door. The beautiful ocean with waves crashing against the shore caught her attention as she made her way to the front of the resort. The three pools and Jacuzzi mandated that she find time for some relaxation. She ended up at the poolside bar and climbed onto a wooden stool.

“I’ll just have a ginger ale with a lemon wedge,” she said to the bartender.

“And I’ll have what she’s having,” said a familiar voice.

Vince climbed onto the bar stool next to hers. Immediately she felt a tingle in the pit of her stomach. His cologne was intoxicating.

“I was hoping to bump into you,” he said.

“Me? Why?” she asked. “So that you could insult me some more?”

“I owe you an apology. I was a bit rude earlier today. Accusing you of being a workaholic,” he said.

“And shallow,” Sasha reminded him, “and insisting that I eat conch salad when I said I didn’t want any.”

“Yeah, that too.” He smiled and raised his glass to her. “Truce?”

“Truce,” she said, raising her glass to his.

“But you enjoyed the conch salad. I saw you secretly eating it and scraping the bowl.”

“I wasn’t scraping the bowl!”

“You all but licked your fingers,” he teased.

“You’re a trip.”

“So I’ve been told,” he said with a smile. “So...what are you getting done at the salon today? Your hair is already very beautiful.” He unexpectedly brushed his fingertips against her forehead and pushed her bangs from her eyes.

Who gave him permission to touch her?

Once she gathered herself, she said, “I’ll probably just have it shampooed and styled for the wedding. And I’m long overdue for a manicure.” She reached her hand out to show him her fingernails.

He grabbed her hand in his in order to get a better view of her tattered nails, and it felt as if a surge of electricity rushed through her. Her bare nipples strained against the fabric of her sundress. They instantly became erect, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed. There was no doubt this man’s touch did things to her body. She was definitely attracted to him, no matter how much she tried to deceive herself. The feeling reminded her of the eighth grade when Todd Valentine had grabbed her hand and leaned in for a kiss. Her heart had pounded and her stomach had done somersaults. This was ridiculous—feeling this way about a man like some silly schoolgirl.

“Your nails aren’t that bad,” Vince said as he caressed every one of her fingers with his thumb. She wondered what she would do if he placed one of her fingers into his mouth.

“So you made it.” The sound of her mother’s voice killed whatever moment she was having with Vince. “I’ve been all over this property looking for you!”

“Mother. Hi.” Sasha hopped from the barstool and gave her mother a hug. She peeked over her mother’s shoulder and noticed her father standing there, too. “Hi, Daddy.”

“Hello, sweetheart,” her father said and went in for a kiss on the cheek. “Glad you made it in safely.”

“You both know Vince, right? Derrick’s friend. Um...he’s the best man.”

“Of course,” Brian Winters reached his hand out to Vince for a firm handshake. “We’re still on for this afternoon, right?”

“Of course, sir. Looking forward to it.”

Sasha wondered what Vince and her father had planned for the afternoon.

“The girls are waiting for you in the lobby,” Charlotte Winters said, casually changing the subject. “If you don’t get going, you’ll be late for your appointment.”

She felt as if she should say something to Vince, like hope to see you later, but there was no time. Her mother nearly dragged her down the sidewalk toward the lobby.

Rubbing her fingertips across Sasha’s brow, Charlotte said, “Sasha, make sure that you do something with these eyebrows. Get them arched. And make sure that when you get your manicure that your nail polish is a neutral color. Nothing outlandish. In fact, just a French manicure would do just fine.”

“Ma, please.”

“I know you’re conservative, sweetie. You don’t really need this speech, but some of these girls just don’t know any better. Those girlfriends of Bridget’s...” Charlotte lowered her voice to a whisper, “...one of them is actually wearing a tattoo, right there on her boobs. What is this world coming to?”

“Ma, she’s young.” Sasha knew that her mother was referring to Deja. “And it’s trendy to have a tattoo there. I think it’s cute.”

“Cute? It seems slutty to me,” said Charlotte. “How is that going to look in the wedding photos? The dresses are low-cut, and...”

“Ma, no one will even see it in the photos.” She couldn’t understand why she was even having a conversation about the boobs of Bridget’s friend with her mother. She thought it more appropriate for her mother to have this conversation with the bride. Or even Deja for that matter, “Ma, I love you. We’ll talk later...when I get back. I promise.”

It wasn’t unusual for Sasha to have conversations like this with her mother. In fact, they disagreed about most things. Even if Sasha had said the sky was blue, her mother would have challenged her and sworn that it was red. If Sasha had said up, Charlotte Winters would have strongly said down. When Sasha had settled on law school and decided to follow her father’s career path, it was as if Charlotte’s hopes and dreams for her daughter were lost. She’d wanted Sasha to do something more meaningful—such as being her first daughter to marry, becoming a homemaker, and giving her some grandchildren. Those were Sasha’s duties as a daughter. Women didn’t pursue such careers. They married men who pursued those careers.

Sasha had been unable to completely please her mother. It seemed that while she couldn’t do anything right, Bridget was the one who favored her mother. She would be the first to marry, she’d be the perfect homemaker, and she’d give their mother beautiful grandchildren. Bridget had gone to college, but instead of pursuing a career in her field of accounting, she’d opened a little boutique—sold items on consignment, which barely took care of the overhead. But that was fine, because she’d managed to snag a great husband in the process. And she showed up for Sunday dinners.

After kissing her mother’s cheek, she caught up with Bridget and the rest of the bridal party. They were already climbing into the back of a black SUV when Sasha took the front passenger’s seat and secured her seat belt. The SUV made its way out of the resort’s circular drive and down the hill. As they drove down Bay Street, Sasha noticed the straw market and made a mental note to stop there on the way back. She loved the shops and fraternizing with the Bahamian women who peddled their handmade souvenirs. She loved the Bahamas.

They took a water taxi to the spa on Paradise Island, where they were greeted with glasses of wine and fresh fruit. With an herbal-scented green mask on her face, Sasha relaxed while a young Bahamian woman rubbed her feet with hot oils and another manicured her nails. She closed her eyes and savored the moment. It had been months since she’d enjoyed a manicure and pedicure. Bridget sat in the leather chair next to hers.

“Thank you for coming, Sash. It really means the world to me that you’re here,” said Bridget.

“Glad I could be here for you,” said Sasha.

“I know that it’s not the most convenient time for you, but I appreciate the sacrifice that you made.”

“Don’t sweat it,” said Sasha, closing her eyes again.

“I love you, Sasquatch,” said Bridget, using her pet name for Sasha that had stuck through the years.

They’d been close once—inseparable even. That was long before Kevin had shattered Sasha’s heart, and before she’d buried herself in her work to escape the pain. Her sister had been her best friend and confidante, but all that changed when Sasha decided to shut everyone out of her life and to make her career a priority. Nothing else mattered except passing the bar. And once she’d accomplished that, her journey from intern to junior associate was inevitable. It wasn’t long before she’d snagged a senior associate position, and in just six years, she was already being considered for partner.

Sasha hadn’t been on vacation in three years. There was never time. She barely made time for hair appointments, manicures or pedicures. More often than not, she’d stop by Ray’s in the City—one of her favorite restaurants—for takeout on her way home. She’d grab a bottle of wine and eat dinner alone in her large kitchen, with its stainless steel appliances and hardwood floors, law books scattered about in front of her. She had a knack for cooking—was an undercover chef. Had law school not worked out, she’d have gone to culinary school, she often thought. She was a great cook. Yet, her evenings had been reduced to expensive takeout and a bottle of Chardonnay to wash it all down.

“I wish you wouldn’t call me Sasquatch,” Sasha told her sister. “I’m not a big, hairy Bigfoot-looking thing.”

Sasha was far from big. With her petite frame, medium-brown complexion and short bob haircut, she often turned heads when she walked through downtown Atlanta wearing one of her tailored suits and her designer heels.

“I think it’s a cute nickname,” Bridget said with a giggle. “You’re too uptight, Sasha. You need a man.”

Sasha was tired of people telling her what she needed. Just a few hours earlier she’d had a confrontation with Vince, and then had to deal with her mother, who always told her she needed to spend more time with the family, needed to show up for more Sunday dinners. And now her sister was swearing that she needed a man, which, in her opinion, was the last thing that she needed. Men always complicated things, got in the way. What she needed was that corner office with the view of the city.

“Have you sworn off men forever, Sash?”

“No, not forever. Just for right now,” said Sasha.

“You think you might get married someday?” Bridget asked, out of the blue. “Are you ever going to forget about what Kevin did and settle down with someone new?”

“I don’t know, Bridge. I’m really married to my career right now. And I like it that way.”

“Your career can’t keep you warm at night, or take you on romantic walks through Piedmont Park,” said Bridget. “And what about sex? When was the last time you...?”

“Bridget, please!” Sasha eyeballed the Bahamian woman who was massaging her feet and wondered if she was eavesdropping. The woman smiled as if she was waiting for Sasha’s response to her sister’s inappropriate question.

“I’m just asking. I mean, there are probably cobwebs in there. And everybody needs a little maintenance every now and then,” Bridget told her.

“See, this is exactly why you and I don’t have these types of conversations.”

“I’m sorry, Sash. I’m just teasing.” Bridget smiled, then said, “But seriously, don’t you want to get married and have some babies one day?”

“One day...yes.”

“I know you don’t like to be set up, Sasha, but I was thinking...”

“Oh, here we go,” Sasha groaned.

She knew that her sister was probably about to fix her up with Vince, which is why she’d sent him to the airport instead of coming herself. She’d wanted the two of them to hit it off. And Sasha could understand why—Vince was gorgeous. As a matter of fact, he’d danced around in her thoughts since the moment she’d left the resort. But she didn’t appreciate being set up, and she was tired of people thinking that it was okay. She was fine being single.

“Paul,” said Bridget. “He’s one of Derrick’s groomsmen. He’s the fair-skinned one. Not very tall, but he’s such a sweetheart, Sash.”

Such a sweetheart. Interpretation: “He’s not very attractive.”

“When I found out that he was a judge in DeKalb County, I knew the two of you would hit it off—seeing as though you’re in the same line of work and all. I can’t wait to introduce you to him. I told him all about you.”

“What? No more matchmaking, Bridget.”

“He graduated from Harvard...cum laude.”

“That’s nice,” Sasha said sarcastically.

“And he’s single,” Bridget urged, “drives a Maserati. Can you believe that? How many black men you know are driving around the city of Atlanta in a Maserati?”

“Not very many.”

Sasha was ready for the conversation about Paul to be over. She’d seen Paul once or twice and hadn’t found him the least bit interesting. He was the type her mother would choose for her. No matter what he did for a living or what type of car he drove, he definitely wasn’t her type. Although she hated to admit it, the truth was she was more interested in knowing more about Vince.

“So how long has Derrick known Vince?” Sasha asked, trying not to appear to be interested.

“Girl, all his life. They grew up together. Same high school...same college,” said Bridget, “but Paul he hasn’t known very long. A couple of years maybe.”

“He seems a little arrogant,” Sasha said. “Vince, I mean.”

“He comes off that way sometimes, but Vince is a nice guy. And he’s good-looking too, but not really your type. You’re career-minded. He’s a dreamer.”

“What do you mean dreamer?”

“He doesn’t really take life seriously. I mean he has a degree in dentistry, for Christ’s sake. He should have his own private practice or work in one of those upscale dental offices in Buckhead. Instead he chooses to work at that low-income health center in the heart of Atlanta for nothing, giving away his services for free. He’s got a little matchbox office down there and he makes a small stipend, but I’m sure it’s pennies compared to what he could make. Might as well go work at McDonald’s.”

“Isn’t that noble? I mean, giving back to his community and all?”

“Noble? I think it’s absurd.”

“Our father did the same thing for years, Bridget. As a young attorney, he worked for Legal Aid, and he offered his legal services pro bono to many underprivileged people over the years.”

“Thanks to Mama, he didn’t completely lose his mind though. Thank God she talked him into working for that law firm and making a decent living for us. It’s because of that firm that we were able to live the way we did.”

“But Daddy wasn’t happy at that firm. He was happier serving others.”

“Serving others is fine, but it doesn’t put food on the table, nor does it secure the future of your children. Which is why I’m marrying Derrick. Besides the fact that he’s drop-dead gorgeous and can give me beautiful babies, he’s successful and he’s the sole heir to his father’s business. My children will have the best of the best.”

“So you’re not marrying for love?”

“Of course I’m marrying for love! It’s just that love wasn’t exactly at the top of my list. It was just below ‘Must have six-figure salary,’” said Bridget with a giggle. “But don’t get me wrong, Sasha. Love is important. And I hope that you find it someday, or it finds you.”

“Well, I’m not exactly looking,” said Sasha.

“That’s okay. Sometimes love finds you anyway. Especially when you’re not looking,” Bridget said. “Just make sure when it finds you it comes with a nice 401(k).”

“You’re a mess!” Sasha exclaimed and laughed.

“I know, but you love me anyway.”

“I do love you, sis, but your view of life is pretty twisted. Derrick had better make sure he has a prenup in place,” teased Sasha. “Have him give me a call and I’ll draw up the papers for him. There are still a few hours before the wedding.”

“He’s already had one drawn up,” Bridget said candidly.

“Really?” Sasha asked, rising in her chair to give her sister a closer look. “How did you feel about that?”

“It’s okay. I mean, he’s not going anywhere and neither am I. Besides, our future is already secured.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sasha asked.

Bridget laid a gentle hand on her stomach, and smiled.

“You’re pregnant!” Sasha exclaimed.

“Shh. Keep it down,” Bridget whispered. “I don’t want anyone knowing before it’s time. Except you, Sasha. I can trust you.”

“How far along?”

“About seven weeks.”

“You haven’t told Derrick yet?”

“He can’t know before the wedding,” said Bridget.

Sasha gave her sister a sideways look.

“Don’t look at me like that, Sasha. It’s complicated,” Bridget whispered. “He’s got this...this plan. It’s so stupid. He says he doesn’t want children until two years after we’re married.”

“Then why didn’t you respect his wishes?”

“Who can live with that kind of pressure? Two years is a long time, and I’m not getting any younger. I hate clichés, but my biological clock is ticking. And I know that once this baby comes and he lays eyes on it, he’ll change his mind.”

“What if he doesn’t?”

“He will.”

“You’re not trying to...you know...replace the other baby, are you?”

Bridget dropped her head, didn’t want to respond.

“One doesn’t have anything to do with the other.”

“Doesn’t it?”

“That was so long ago, Sasha. I was a kid. And I’d managed to forget all about it until now. Thank you very much.”

Bridget’s abortion wasn’t something that could easily be forgotten. Sasha remembered how well her sister had hidden the pregnancy. But it wasn’t long before Charlotte Winters caught wind of it. And when she did, there was no conversation about it—abortion was inevitable. Keeping it was never an option for Bridget. Their mother had worked too hard to build a perfect image for her daughters. A teen pregnancy would’ve tarnished that image beyond repair, and Charlotte Winters wasn’t having that.

Sasha remembered the tragedy as if she’d had the abortion instead of Bridget. She remembered the dull gray walls at the abortion clinic, and the Hispanic lady who handed them a ton of papers to sign. She remembered the pain in her sister’s eyes and the deep sadness on her face. She’d also remembered the grueling whimpers as Bridget cried herself to sleep that night. It was the saddest time in both their lives, and for that she blamed their mother. Their father would never have allowed such a thing to go on. They weren’t allowed to breathe a word of it to their father, or anyone else, for that matter. Sasha thought it to be a horrible secret for young girls to be forced to keep, but she had no choice. They simply did as they were told. In fact, they never even talked about it again between themselves—until now.

Sasha recognized her sister’s need to replace the unborn child she’d once lost, but she was going about it all wrong. Derrick had put up with a lot of things in their past. She just hoped their relationship could survive this one.

Chapter 3

Sasha nursed a glass of rum punch while listening to the sounds of Flo Rida. She stood against the wall and watched as a very muscular Bahamian man danced his way into the hearts of the women in the room. He grinned as they screamed and placed dollar bills into the elastic of his bright red briefs. By the end of the song, Dexter, the male dancer enlisted by the bridal party, was sitting on Bridget’s lap. With one hand covering her eyes, she spanked his behind lightly with the other hand. The women in the room cheered as Dexter swiveled his hips and teased Bridget. She was embarrassed but managed to laugh through it.

Sasha laughed at her sister but secretly wished for a moment that she could slip out of the room and catch some fresh air. She’d been pinned up with these women since heading for the spa earlier in the day. They’d gone to Paradise Island and been pampered with massages, manicures, pedicures and fresh hairdos. Sasha’s freshly shampooed hair had blown in the wind as they’d visited every boutique and retail shop on Bay Street. They’d grabbed a bite to eat at one of the local Caribbean grills and then rushed back to the resort for a quick change of clothes before preparing for the beachside rehearsal dinner.

At the rehearsal dinner, the tables had been arranged along the sand and adorned with white tablecloths, white tea light candles and seashells in square vases that were gathered as centerpieces. The scent from the fresh plumeria flowers danced in the wind. The rehearsal dinner had been planned just before sunset, and the reflection of the beautiful colors was illuminated against the water. As contemporary jazz played and waves crashed against the shore, Sasha glanced across the table at Vince. He wore a white linen shirt with shorts to match. Holding a glass of wine in his hand, he chitchatted with the other groomsmen. He caught her watching and she quickly turned away, pretending to say something to her mother, who had been seated right next to her.

“They did a good job with the decorations,” she said.

“Everything is just so beautiful.” Her mother smiled.

“Yes, it is.” She glanced at Vince again, and he raised his glass to her. She gave him a soft smile.

“I’m glad that you’re finally taking a much-needed vacation, Sasha. You work too hard.”

Here it comes, Sasha thought. Conversations with her mother were always strained. They always turned to Sasha’s career and how she worked too hard or how she made bad decisions in her personal life. Sasha wished her mother would be proud of her accomplishments, but instead she diminished them. Sasha wanted so badly for her mother to be proud of her.

“I enjoy my job, Mother.”

Charlotte Winters looked for something else to complain about. “What is this I hear about you leaving after the wedding?”

“My office is having a retreat in Savannah. I need to be there.”

“Your sister is getting married. You need to be here.”

“I am here, Mother.”

“I mean for the entire event. Not just the nuptials. There was a lot of effort put into planning this weekend, and it seems that you’re blowing it off.”

“I’m not blowing it off. I’ll be here for the most important part—the vows,” explained Sasha.

“You’re taking this career of yours way too seriously. You’re just like your father. Never know when to quit.” Charlotte took a sip of her wine.

Sasha had taken a sip of her own wine, and she enjoyed the ambiance for a while. The last thing she wanted to do was get into it with her mother. Their views about life were as different as night and day, and she typically avoided any discussion with her mother. It was a losing battle.

She watched as Vince stood and offered a toast and well-wishes to the bride and groom. She followed suit with well-wishes of her own. After the delectable Bahamian meal was served, it was back to the condo for yet another change of clothes. Bridget’s bachelorette party soon followed.

Sasha hadn’t had a moment to herself since arriving in the Bahamas, and she needed one desperately. As soon as Dexter had everyone’s attention again, Sasha slipped out of the suite, closing the door gently behind her. She rushed down the sidewalk, making a clean escape. She thought she’d retreat to her condo for a nice long bubble bath, and then maybe a walk on the beach. The night was beautiful—the moon lit up the sky with its brightness. She’d worn skinny jeans and high heels to Bridget’s party but wished she’d opted for a bikini top, a colorful sarong and flat sandals instead. She removed the heels from her aching feet and felt the warmth of the pavement against her toes.

“I would never have guessed you to be a country girl.” The voice behind her startled her. She turned to find Vince leaning against a palm tree, the neck of a bottle of Heineken between his fingers.

“Excuse me?” she said.

“Walking barefoot is what country girls do,” he explained. “I thought you were a city girl.”

“I grew up in the city, but my parents are definitely from the country,” she said. He was not exactly the breath of fresh air she’d needed all night.

“I thought you were at your bachelorette party, getting your groove on.” He grinned that grand piano of a smile.

“I’ve had enough fun for one night. What about you? Shouldn’t you be somewhere sticking one-dollar bills into the thong of some overdeveloped Bahamian hoochie?”

Vince laughed this time. She liked his laugh—it was hearty and real. She couldn’t help noticing how handsome he looked in his designer jeans and silk shirt.

“I’ve never heard it put that way, but I’m sure the young lady that they hired is getting plenty of dollar bills without me.” He took a sip of his beer. “Where you headed?”

“To my condo for a long bath,” said Sasha.

“Ooh, sounds wonderful.” He smiled. “Any chance I could convince you to have a drink with me first?”

“Hmm, I don’t know. I’ve had enough wine and rum punch to carry me through the night.”

“One drink,” Vince pressed.

“Just one?” Sasha was close to conceding.

“Just one.”

As much as Sasha wanted to play hard to get, she couldn’t. She’d secretly hoped that she would bump into Vince. He’d cluttered her thoughts all day—the intoxicating smell of his cologne, his eyes and that smile had haunted her. She’d wondered how he was spending his day while she was being pampered with the girls. Had he driven his rented Mercedes along the streets of Nassau, sightseeing? Was he a shopper? A fisherman? Did he play golf? Perhaps that was the thing that Vince and her father had in common. She’d found herself wondering these things and couldn’t for the life of her understand why.

Vince helped Sasha climb onto a stool at the poolside bar.

He asked, “What are you having?”

“I’m a wine girl,” she said, and then turned to the bartender, “Your house Chardonnay, please.”

“A Black Russian for me, Jake,” said Vince, calling the bartender by name.

“What is a Black Russian, anyway?” Sasha asked.

“Vodka and Kahlua,” Vince explained.

“Is it good?”

“It’s an interesting drink, with many variations.” He raised his glass after Jake set the drink in front of him. “This is a Black Russian. Add cola, and it becomes a Dirty Black Russian. Add ginger ale, and you have a Brown Russian. Add a touch of Guinness beer, and you have a Smooth Black Russian.” His voice was sultry as those last three words rolled off his tongue. Smooth Black Russian.

“Okay, I get it.”

“You should try one.”

“I’m not much of a drinker.”

“You’re on vacation. Let go of your inhibitions. Live a little,” Vince suggested. “Jake, give the lady a Brown Russian.”

“How do you know I wouldn’t like a Smooth Black Russian? Or perhaps a dirty one?”

“You don’t strike me as smooth or dirty,” teased Vince.

“I beg your pardon. You don’t know me like that.” Sasha giggled and took a long sip of her wine.

“You’re right. I don’t know you as well as I’d like to,” Vince said. “How does one break through that hard exterior of yours—that shield that you put up for the world?”

“I don’t have a shield!” Sasha argued. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“I know that you’re a workaholic, and you’d rather be somewhere other than here right now.”

He was wrong. She was exactly where she wanted to be at the moment.

“My firm is hosting a retreat on Tybee Island this weekend, and it’s imperative that I be there. Only...my sister is getting married, and I can’t be in two places at one time.”

“And your career is hanging in the balance because you’re not there. And there’s some other hotshot attorney that’s threatening to steal your spot,” Vince stated sarcastically.

“How’d you know that?” Sasha asked as Jake placed a Brown Russian in front of her.

Completely ignoring her question, Vince asked, “Who’s your rival? Some young, blond-haired, blue-eyed little geek who graduated Yale or Harvard at the top of his class?”

“No, actually she has brown hair and brown eyes, and graduated from UCLA. And I taught her everything she knows.”

“And now she’s your rival? I’d say she’s not very appreciative,” Vince said. “She’s at that retreat right now, isn’t she?”

“Rubbing noses with clients I should be rubbing noses with,” said Sasha as she took a sip of her Brown Russian. It didn’t make her cringe as she suspected it would, and before long she’d finished almost half. “What about you, Vince? What would you be doing right now if you weren’t here?”

“Let me see...” Vince checked his watch. “You mean at this very moment?”

“Yes, at this very moment.”

“Right now I’d be sipping a cup of something hot trying to get my voice back after running up and down the sidelines of a basketball court, yelling at the top of my lungs because my kids were losing. Or because they were winning.”

“So you have children.” It was more a statement than a question. A resolution. She suddenly felt a sense of disappointment. Either he was married, divorced or had a baby’s mama, and any way that spelled trouble. That is, if she were interested in him romantically. Which she wasn’t.

“Yes, I have fifteen children.” Vince grinned as Sasha’s eyes grew bigger. “I coach a youth league coed basketball team. And they had a game tonight.”

“Wow, a youth team. You must love children.” She sighed with relief, and then her heart warmed at the thought.

“They are the most honest people on the face of the earth. You don’t have to pretend with them. You just have to protect them. And teach them to take care of their teeth.” Vince polished off his Black Russian and raised his glass for Jake to bring him another.

“Their teeth, huh?” Sasha asked, and then she remembered her conversation with Bridget earlier. “You’re a dentist.”

“Yes.” Vince grinned. “A pediatric dentist.”

“Oh.” Sasha covered her mouth with her hand, wondering if he’d already inspected her teeth.

“Don’t worry. You have a nice set of teeth.” It was as if he’d read her mind. “I’ve already checked them out.”

“You are...something else.” Sasha smiled and shook her head. She found herself more engaged than she wanted to be.

She raised her glass to alert Jake that she needed another Brown Russian, and before long she’d polished off three. Suddenly Vince’s jokes became outrageously funny, and Sasha found herself laughing long and hard—and loudly. Vince pulled his chair around closer to Sasha, until she could feel his breath on her neck. His cologne crept its way into her nostrils.

“You smell wonderful,” she whispered.

His lips pressed themselves against hers, and his tongue teased the inside of her mouth. Whatever good sense she had was out the window as Vince took her to a new level of delight. His huge hand palmed her head and pulled her closer, and she wondered what that hand would feel like on her breast and even between her thighs. It had been a very long time since she’d even been kissed by a man. With his gentle touch, Vince had awakened every sensation in her and she got lost in the moment. She simply got lost.

* * *

As the bright sunshine beamed through her window and crept across her face, Sasha slowly and reluctantly opened her eyes. Her head was pounding—the alcohol had proved to be a more powerful force than she thought. She groaned, regretting every Brown Russian that she’d indulged in with a man whom she barely knew. It was her sister’s wedding day, and she knew she wouldn’t have the luxury of recovering from her awful hangover. She needed to meet the other girls for hair and makeup at eleven. And the nuptials were scheduled to take place at noon. As much as it pained her, she needed to know what time it was, and she slowly turned her aching head to look at the digital clock on the nightstand.

With a loud shriek, she jumped out of bed.

“What are you doing here?” she asked Vince, who was nestled beneath the crisp white sheets in her bed. She grabbed her thick bathrobe from the chair and wrapped it around her naked body. “Oh, my God! Did you...did we?”

“Did we make love?” Vince was calm and didn’t move.

“Did we have sex?”

“Having sex sounds so cheap and lustful. Making love sounds so much more passionate.” Vince smiled and sat up in bed.

“Oh, no, this is bad. This is so bad. I never sleep with guys on the first date. Was this even a date?”

“I’d say it was a date,” he mused.

“This isn’t funny, Vince. We barely even know each other.” Sasha plopped down into the chair. Her hands covered her face as she contemplated her predicament.

A loud knock on the door shook her from her thoughts.

“Sasha!” Her mother’s voice wasn’t one that she needed to hear at the moment. “Sasha, honey, open up! It’s Mom.”

“Shh,” Sasha mouthed to Vince as she pressed her index finger against her lips.

Charlotte knocked again. “Sasha, are you in there? You have hair and makeup in thirty minutes.”

Sasha’s heart pounded while her mother knocked two more times. She hoped Charlotte hadn’t talked housekeeping into giving her a spare key to the room. Vince stood and slipped his jeans on and buckled his belt. Sasha took in the curve of his bare chest and arms. She wondered if those arms had held her hips steady in the middle of the night or if they’d wrapped themselves around her naked body just hours before.

Sasha sighed with relief when her mother stopped knocking. She was gone.

“You have to go,” she told Vince. “If I know Charlotte Winters, she’ll be back. And she won’t knock next time.”

Vince buttoned his silk shirt and slipped his loafers on his feet. He walked over to Sasha, pulled her up from the chair and wrapped his strong arms around her. When he pressed his lips against hers, she didn’t pull away. Her open mouth welcomed his tongue. He stopped in midkiss, leaving her longing for more.

“See you at the altar,” he said and then exited her condo.

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