Pure Attraction Read online

  Byron didn’t seem to mind that she was just standing there with her arms at her sides as he held her. They stood there like that for a while in silence, the wind blowing around them. After a while, he kissed the top of her head.

  “I’m dying to come in,” he whispered. “But if I do, I’m going to want to push back my departure time tonight, and I really have to go. Meeting tomorrow in New York, and then I fly to Tokyo soon after that.”

  Then his arms tightened around her, and this time she responded. When he lowered his mouth to hers, she rose onto her toes to meet his lips. Warm, so soft and achingly sweet, each brush of his lips against hers was a message, too.

  Remember this kiss.

  He knew how to deliver that message, so perfectly tuned to her. Oh, hell. In the desert, it was finally raining. Somehow, the softness of his mouth on hers was more intimate, more raw, than everything else they had done. Jessie drew in a shaky breath. She had the urge to push him away, to staunch the flood of bottomless hunger that his kiss was awakening. She knew exactly how to insert some witty, slightly cutting remark to get this situation back under control, to get herself back into familiar territory. But Byron was about to walk out of her life, so she kissed him, focusing on the sensation. She slid her tongue along the seam of his lips, and he groaned, parting his mouth for her.

  And then they were really kissing. Each stroke of her tongue against his lips was an exploration, and each scrape of his teeth against her lips was an answer she hadn’t realized she needed. She had craved a kiss like this without even understanding what was missing. She’d craved him. Byron kissed the way he did everything else, thoroughly and with a complete devotion to the task.

  Jessie gave in to it. The kiss was a balm that soothed all her prickly edges. All her defenses were down, and she gave him everything. The wind was picking up speed, blowing through her hair, rustling the trees around them, as if even the weather itself was stirred by the intensity of this kiss. His big hands moved up her arms and over her shoulders. He cupped her jaw with one hand and slid the other into her hair as he gave her more and more of himself.

  A shudder of pleasure ran through her, and she pulled back, staring at the wall of his chest. Her breaths were coming quickly, one on top of the other, and she wasn’t ready to meet his gaze. How the hell did that get out of hand so quickly?

  Byron’s hands slid back down her arms.

  “I really am going,” he murmured, his mouth pressing into her hair once more.

  They stayed like that for another moment, the wind blowing, weaving around them, the warmth of his body against hers. Then he let go.

  “Goodbye, Jessie,” he whispered, and he walked away without looking back.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  AN HOUR LATER, Byron headed into the Kalani office, his expression carefully schooled back to business-neutral.

  “I checked in with the pilot, and we’re on schedule for departure despite the storm coming in,” said Marcos, falling in step with him. “As long as we leave before midnight, we should be fine.”

  “Perfect. What does my schedule look like when I land tomorrow?”

  Marcos glanced down at the tablet he was holding. “Your one-on-one meeting with Mr. Hayden is immediately after the board meeting.”

  “Of course.” Byron’s jaw tightened. “Thank you. I’ll be in my office. Knock on the door when the car arrives.”

  Byron headed down the empty hall for his office. He opened his briefcase on his desk, then gathered his laptop and papers. He closed it, then sat down at his desk, massaging some of the tension out of his jaw.

  Tomorrow was the meeting he had been waiting for, for months. No one at Hayden Properties had doubted that Byron would be named the next CEO. The enormous stretch of land along the Hawaiian coast would be in his control, and with it, a chance to make his father’s wish come true: that Byron would find a way to use his money and influence to boost his father’s community. Not his father’s name or his personal legacy, like his stepfather wanted. No. Walter Keahi simply wanted to make his community better.

  Tomorrow Byron could have the keys to the kingdom that he had worked for, what his father wanted, but was that what he really wanted? After a few years as CEO, he could probably sway the board to change the terms of ownership of his house on the island while securing the Kalani’s future. But what would the years as CEO look like? More travel and even less time to devote to the Kalani. And it certainly wouldn’t leave room for someone like Jessie in his life.

  Byron rubbed his forehead. If he was thinking about the future with her, he had definitely entered what Sheila would label as his lovesick phase. And it had hit him badly, since Byron couldn’t shake the ominous feeling that he was walking away from the best thing his life had offered him.

  Earlier tonight, as the wind picked up, he’d had a moment of panic. What would happen to Jessie in this unpredictable world? It was the storm waves that set him off, but it was so much more than that. Jessie would almost certainly be fine. She’d finish her week at the Kalani, return to San Francisco and move on with her life. And he wouldn’t have the chance to take care of her.

  A knock on his door startled him out of his thoughts, and Sheila walked in.

  Byron frowned. “You’re here late.”

  “And you don’t look thrilled to see me,” she said, closing the door behind her. “If I didn’t know you better, I’d be hurt.”

  Sheila’s braids were gathered on top of her head in a bun, and she wore a dress with a muted flowered print, covered by a blazer. For the first year after she moved to Hawaii, he’d searched for signs that she missed New York, that she might decide this role wasn’t a good long-term fit, but he hadn’t found any. Sheila seemed content in a way she never had been when they were growing up, and Byron wondered for what was probably the thousandth time if he, too, would be content leaving behind his life in New York, his friends, his sisters...and his mother. There was a good chance that leaving meant severing ties entirely.

  Sheila crossed the room and settled into a low armchair that faced his desk. “How was your dinner?”

  Byron gave a bark of laughter. “Not very private, clearly.”

  Sheila shrugged, unbothered. “If you want private, don’t show up unannounced with a guest who has reserved a table for one. You know how detail-oriented the staff is here.”

  “And nosy, it seems.”

  She shook her head. “The Hilltop called to ask if your guest should be charged. Jessie Van Buren apparently signed for the bill, but since she was your guest, they wanted to know if that charge should be removed.”

  Byron smiled a little as he imagined the irritation on Jessie’s face if he did, in fact, remove the charge. Would she track him down, just to tell him off? Fuck, he wanted to do it. And he wouldn’t.

  “But there were no reports of the actual conversation,” Sheila added dryly. “At least not that I’m aware of.”

  There were hints of amusement on his friend’s face, but her message was clear. Be careful.

  “I’m leaving within the next thirty minutes,” he said flatly. “I don’t have her number. It’s over.”

  Each of these sentences was the truth, and yet, all together, it felt like a lie. It didn’t feel over. But by tomorrow, he would be back in New York, knee-deep in discussions about the Tokyo property, and this uneasy feeling that he shouldn’t be leaving would fade. Hopefully. Even if it didn’t, he absolutely wasn’t going to let the intensity between Jessie and him factor into is business life. He had already made that mistake with Anna.

  “If you want to contact her, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Sheila sighed. “Believe it or not, that’s not why I came in here. The storm is supposed to hit the island tomorrow and last through the day. I sent you a list of precautions we’re going to take, and I wanted your eyes, too.”

  “All of the scheduled excursion
s are canceled, correct?”

  “Yes. Including the private surfing tour.” She gave him what was probably supposed to be a meaningful look, which he was trying to ignore.

  “Good.” Now maybe he’d stop thinking about Jessie getting thrown by a wave against a shallow reef. Instead he’d be thinking about her, alone in her cabin, waiting out the storm. With nothing to do. All that time he could spend pleasing her.

  “If there’s damage, let me know,” he said. “I can divert my Tokyo flight to check it out in person.”

  The idea came to him as he spoke, but it took hold fast. Maybe, for just a few more hours...

  “Byron?”

  “Yes?”

  “You realize you’re heading toward the opposite of careful right now, don’t you?”

  He nodded slowly. “Yes, I do.”

  * * *

  When Byron said a storm was coming in, he wasn’t fooling around. By noon, sheets of rain were blowing across the lanai in gusts. The spray reached under the roof, covering everything with mist, including Jessie. A small army of people had come by earlier to move the outdoor furniture away from the edges, and so far she was relatively dry. And well fed. The service here was truly incredible—even if she didn’t count the services Byron had so willingly given. She had spent most of the day sitting uncharacteristically still, just staring out into the rain. The only thing she’d done, aside from eating, was to mentally compose a note to Kalani customer service: next time, schedule the full-service surf/sex god at the end of her stay, so as to not make the rest of her luxury experience a letdown.

  After a couple days with Byron, what the hell was she supposed to do with herself? Her phone sat on the table in front of her, the simple little contraption without dings or updates or any other distractions.

  She couldn’t surf in this weather, and considering the amount of...activity she’d had over the last forty-eight hours, a day of rest wasn’t the worst thing that could happen for her body. But what could she distract herself with? She had promised Jillian she wouldn’t work, and Jillian, knowing her well, had changed her passwords temporarily to make sure of it. Jessie had found that out this morning, when she had tried to use the tablet in her cabin to get a peek at her email. Definitely no work today.

  It had been a while since she’d had the time to think about much of anything beyond her start-up and her phone notifications and the Friday dinners with her team that stretched late into the night at the bar. There was exercise, but that was mostly to keep her body from giving up after long hours in front of the computer. And there was surfing, when she could squeeze it in.

  Jessie searched her brain for what she used to do with her time, before the endless work cycle had taken over her life. Did she used to have hobbies? If she did, she couldn’t think of any. She had rejected her mother’s attempts to teach her to knit, cook, or learn any other traditionally female activities, sensing that even these skills in domesticity were a path to her mother’s position. No crocheting pot holders today. She could probably use a little stretching, and the Kalani doubtless had professional help for that if she was interested. Maybe later.

  Oh, hell, she could be honest with herself. What she wanted to do right now was spend the afternoon digging up every piece of information she could find about Byron Keahi, along with another few keyword searches, like male submissive. And since this resort was all about wish fulfillment, she might as well indulge herself.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  THE NEXT DAY, Jessie was sitting in the passenger seat of a truck, heading along the coast. Her window was down, and the warm, humid wind rushed and echoed inside the car. Tomoko was focused on the road in front of them. Jessie had carefully planned a few probing questions for her surf guide—questions that hopefully didn’t make her new obsession with Byron Keahi too painfully obvious—but they could wait. Right now, Jessie was taking in her surroundings. It was an embarrassing truth that, in the whirlwind of Byron, she hadn’t fully registered that she was in Hawaii for the very first time.

  The drive had been gorgeous and slow, with occasional stops where fallen trees blocked portions of the road. One main road looped around the island, taking them through long stretches of lava beds and dry, grassy fields with patches of scraggly bushes. After a while, the brown grass had slowly been replaced by the lush green of trees and flowering bushes. The flatter coast of the north slowly evolved into a steep hillside, with the road hugging one side of it and the ocean crashing far below them. The mountains curved out over the sea, then folded into deep pockets that centuries of water had cut into the terrain. Bridges spanned these valleys, giving Jessie peeks at the waterfalls that fell from hundreds of meters up. On the other side of the car, the waves crashed onto the rocky coastline below.

  Tomoko had thrown their boards into the back of the truck, though there was little chance of surfing. The storm was as slow as it was strong, blowing over the island in a thick cloud of wind and rain that had taken down trees and left palm fronds in her swimming pool. The Kalani staff had worked overtime to clear her lanai and her private beach, though the waves had continued to wash debris onto the shore long after the rain had stopped. There were some things even absurd amounts of money couldn’t buy, and the ocean was one of them.

  Tomoko was a Hawaiian native and low-key, with long, straight black hair mixed with a few platinum streaks that matched Jessie’s own hair. She was also an incredible surfer, from what she had seen this morning on the Kalani’s break. If they were in California, Jessie would have gone out of her way to become friends. Under any other circumstances, Tomoko would have been a perfect surf guide. But after Byron yesterday she’d felt like a bit of a letdown. Which had pissed Jessie off. She hadn’t had a vacation in years, and Jillian’s boyfriend had spent ungodly amounts to send her here, no doubt to sway her opinion of him. Maybe even to soften her up to his idea that she and Jillian should take investment money from him. Hell no. They weren’t tying their business to a boyfriend. At least Jillian agreed with her on that point...so far. Still, a luxury vacation was a luxury vacation, and today she was going to appreciate the hell out of Hawaii.

  As Byron predicted, the surf had remained high, even after the storm had passed, so for their morning surf session, she and Tomoko had stayed close to the resort, on a beach protected by the Kalani’s peninsula. Though Jessie had hoped to explore further, she wasn’t stupid. Despite her flippant answer to Byron’s warning about the dangers of big surf conditions in the area, she had no desire to risk a hard crash against the reef. With the change freeze she had imposed in her absence, MomJobs could survive a week without her but not weeks, plural. Definitely not months if she broke her wrist or anything that kept her from her computer. Still, her wish had been to explore the local hidden gems of Hawaii’s surf scene, and she wanted to at least see some of these spots.

  Tomoko turned off the main road and headed down the road, under the bridge and toward the ocean.

  “This isn’t your average stay at the Kalani,” Tomoko said as she steered around a leafy branch that lay across the road.

  Jessie suppressed a laugh—she didn’t know the half of it. “I’m not the average guest, either,” she said.

  Tomoko smiled. “Definitely not. You’re the first truly experienced surfer I’ve taken out in over a year.”

  The pavement ended when they turned onto a road marked Dead End. The road curved once more, then spread out into a turnaround, just above a wide cove mostly surrounded by cliffs, with the exception of the beach in front of them. Tomoko pulled up next to the other two cars parked at the end of the road and turned off the engine.

  In front of them, wave after wave rolled in, peaking and then crashing down in angry sprays just inside the far reef. At least, most of them did. But if the waves were too big, they closed out right onto the far reef, and others broke more slowly, coming dangerously near another reef, in toward the shore. Farther out, just past
the break, three surfers waited, rising and falling with each wave, the pointed tips of their short boards reflecting the sun.

  “The break is called Purgatory, and you can probably see why,” said Tomoko. “The wave has to be just the right height to surf.” She pointed to the sweet spot right in the middle of the two reefs. “On a calmer day, it’s not as dangerous—you can just jump off if the wave is headed toward the reef. But on a day like today, there’s a strong current that can suck you in between the reefs and hold you there.”

  “In purgatory,” said Jessie.

  “Exactly. And it takes perfecting timing and a lot of paddling to make it out.” Tomoko opened her door. “Let’s go check it out.”

  Jessie climbed out of the car and followed Tomoko down the dirt path to the beach. The air was cooler by the shore, and she was grateful she had grabbed a jacket as she walked out. They found a spot in the sand and settled in to watch.

  “On the right day, this is the best surf spot on the island,” said Tomoko. “It’s never crowded. It’s far from a beginner spot, and it’s a bit of a drive from any city. There’s no cell service anywhere near here, so no one can call out to tell their friends whether or not it’s on. You have to come and check it out yourself.”

  One of the surfers turned and began to paddle for a wave, then pulled back at the last minute as the waved swelled even higher.

  “It’s definitely on today,” she said.

  “A little too on,” said Tomoko. “I’m hoping these guys know what they’re doing.”

  They seemed to. One by one, the guys caught waves, carving up and down, then jumped off before they reached purgatory. It was entrancing, the surge of adrenaline as they watched each attempt, followed each turn.