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“She’ll be there for three months. Come on, ’Bastian, it’s going to take us that long to finish the job we’ve taken. If we wait, we’ll have the summer with her. Let’s get this finished and then we’ll meet her there,” Shane assured him.
Like Sebastian, Shane found the thought of waiting was hell, though.
“We’ll be waiting for her,” Sebastian growled. “And if we don’t leave quickly, Shane, all bets are off. It’s all I can do to stay the hell away from her now.”
Shane well understood how he felt.
“We’re losing it.” He chuckled as he clapped Sebastian on the back. “Come on, let’s go break into Landra’s private bar and get a nice, strong drink. We’re overworked, Cousin. Otherwise, a woman wouldn’t have our dicks in a twist like this.”
Shrugging his shoulders, Sebastian turned and followed his cousin along a narrower part of the walk that led around the ballroom to a private entrance into the rear of the main house.
Staying away from the ballroom was imperative. Staying the hell away from one innocent little siren was without question. Whether exhaustion, stress, too many drinks, or too much excess, she’d suddenly began to embody every fantasy they’d ever had individually, or combined, of a woman. And that was very dangerous.
Right now, it was too damned dangerous.
He didn’t want to leave her. For some reason, one Sebastian couldn’t make sense of, he didn’t want to leave the United States without her. He wanted to slip her away, kidnap her pretty ass, and take her with them now.
Hell, what had she done to him?
“I think a little distance at the moment would be a good thing,” Shane suggested. “Perhaps we should meet the divorcée in her room and expend a bit of the lust driving us both crazy.” He blew out a hard breath then. “Fuck that. I can wait.”
There was a complete lack of desire for any other woman now. There was only Alyssa. Far too delicate, too innocent, and hiding a vein of sensuality that would burn them alive once it was ignited, Sebastian sensed.
“I say we head to Spain in the morning then.” If he waited, Sebastian knew there would be no staying away from her.
Even now, he wanted nothing more than to stride into the ballroom and sweep her into his arms. He wouldn’t stop to dance, though. He’d carry her from the mansion and rush her straight to the limo, where he’d order the driver to take them to the airport and the private plane awaiting them.
“I feel mesmerized, Shane,” he admitted with a rueful smile and a hard shake of his head. “Perhaps ‘siren’ isn’t far from the truth.”
“You’re not by yourself, Cousin,” Shane admitted, his tone far too serious. “You are not by yourself.”
Five months? Waiting was going to be hell.
2
FIVE MONTHS LATER
>
BARCELONA, SPAIN
The sea and the sun, a breeze as soft and sensual as a lover’s caress as the waves slid like silk over her skin. The warmth of the sun, the splash of the water, and the touch of a cooling breeze were more than just invigorating; it was like a magical touch of fantasy.
It was so different from home or the Riviera her mother preferred, or the Bahamas. The difference was one Alyssa couldn’t put her finger on, couldn’t describe, but how she wished she could.
Wading through the surf, she waved to a couple who called out to her. They lived in the apartment building Alyssa was staying in. The night before, when she’d arrived, the young man had helped her carry her luggage up. A bit later his girlfriend, Marissa, had walked with her to show her the market and shopping district.
Alyssa had expected Giana “Gia” Bennett, the daughter of one of her mother’s friends, to have already arrived. Landra had kept the summer rental across from Alyssa for the other girl. She and Gia had known each other for ages. They weren’t close, but Alyssa liked her.
“Alyssa, be certain to come down to the water tonight,” Roberto Santiago, her downstairs neighbor’s brother, called out. “The wine is free, the music is hot, and we will dance.”
Oh, she didn’t think so. She’d met Roberto the night before and she hadn’t been impressed by him in the least. She intended to be there for the music, though.
Throwing him a smile, she gave a quick shake of her head before laughing at his pout. Turning her gaze back to the beach, she came to a stop before ever fully stepping from the surf. A wave caught her just behind her knees, nearly throwing her off balance.
Not that she wasn’t already off balance.
At the waves’ farthermost edge they stood, like twin gods, one dark haired, one lighter. Shirtless, shoeless, dressed only in loose white pants, the cuffs rolled above their ankles, arms crossed over their chests.
