Forbidden Three Read online

“Well, you haven’t called me in months and now, you’re calling me in the middle of the night to apologize for it? I don’t buy it. What do you need? I’m not smuggling another felon out of the country. Canada deserves better.”

  I blink and process that. “A felon? What?”

  “Not important,” Eva says, with another ear-splitting yawn.

  It sets me off into one of my own. I swallow after and blink tears. “I’m calling because I have a problem.”

  “As I thought. Now, what’s the problem? Have you been caught smuggling illegal goods across the border?”

  “No, and I’m kinda alarmed that you’re leading with these questions,” I reply.

  She snorts a laugh over the phone, and more shuffling ensues, followed by the snap-hiss of a match as she lights a cigarette. She inhales deeply. “Better. I’m sort of awake, now. Sort of. What’s the problem?”

  “Man trouble,” I say. Which is the lightest possible way of phrasing this. “Double man trouble.”

  “Oh, boy, it’s a doozey. This should be good.” Eva sucks on her cigarette and exhales. “Maybe this is worth being woken up for after all.”

  “I—well, it’s complicated. I’m in love with my boss, Holden, and I—oh, god, OK. This is going to be pretty damn difficult to explain.”

  “Just start at the beginning,” Eva says. It bodes well that she’s not shocked about me being in love with my boss.

  So, I tell her everything. Except for the pornographic bits, since that’d be pushing it. I tell her about Holden and how I followed him here, about Joey and how he tricked me but then showed me his softer genuine side, and about how that subterfuge didn’t even bother me and how weird it is.

  “They’ve given me a choice,” I say. “Well, technically, Holden’s given me the choice. It’s either him or nothing, which I’m pretty sure Joey wouldn’t agree with. They had a fight outside my villa. I—just don’t know what the hell to do, Eva. This is too much for me to handle.”

  Eva exhales. “Well, shit.” It’s the first thing she’s said since I started talking. “Well, I’ll be damned.”

  “Any other wells you’d like to mention?”

  “A well of emotion?” Eva suggests. “Or how about a well of scandal.”

  “Help me, please,” I say, a hint of plea in my tone. I tread across the tiles in the kitchen and fiddle with the fridge’s chrome door bar.

  “I can’t really help you, girl. This is a decision you need to make for yourself. But it looks to me like you’ve got a lot of options. What I’d like to know is how you feel about them. How do you feel about Holden?”

  “He’s… special. He’s a good man. He looks after his daughter and puts her first. He cares about people, even if he tries to hide it, and he’s protective. He says he loves me.” I bite my lip. And I love him, too. I’ve been infatuated with him for weeks, living in close quarters.

  Once, we even ran into each other in the middle of the night, passing in the hall that leads to the bathroom.

  “And Joey? He sounds like the weak link.”

  “I don’t know about that,” I reply and open the fridge, peering inside at the newly replaced fruits and vegetables. “He’s so warm. He’s the opposite of Holden. He seems to really care, and he shows it. He’s so commanding and overwhelming. He talks to me about stuff whenever he can. I care about him, too.”

  “So, they’re opposites, and you dig them both. Great, that makes this easier.” Eva sniffs. “So, the way I say it is it’s either Holden or Joey, or you leave.”

  “Leaving is probably for the best,” I reply, firmly. It makes sense, now. Eva’s brisk tone has shaken the emotion out of me. “I don’t want to come between them.”

  “Or the secret, bonus fourth option,” Eva says.

  “And what’s that?” I ask.

  “You take them both.”

  “What? I don’t think that’s even an option. I mean, how would that work?” I shake my head.

  “Look, it’s not like you’ll end up marrying either of these guys. Joey’s the fun, free dude and Holden’s got his own issues. He said he won’t be ready for a long time. So, have them both, and live a free happy life. Maybe, one day, you’ll be better equipped to make the decision between the two of them. Maybe the feelings for one will drop off and the other will grow stronger. Why not have some fun with it first?”

  “Holden said—”

  “I know, girl, but what a man says and what he does are often two entirely different things. If you’re at all interested in that fourth option, you should at least tell them how you feel,” Eva says. “Trust me on this one.”

  I shake my head and squeeze my eyes shut. “Thanks, Eva. I think I know what I have to do.”

  “All right, sis. Just don’t do anything I wouldn’t,” she replies.

  “You mean like hiding fugitives or stripping?”

  “Hey! That was one time!” Eva’s laughter rings down the line. “Now, can I go back to sleep?”

  “Yes.”

  “All right, honey boo, let me know what you decide.”

  “I will if you never call me that again,” I reply, then kiss-kiss into the phone’s receiver and hang up.

  She’s cleared a lot up for me. I do know what I have to do.

  No matter what I feel for Holden or for Joey, the truth is clear. I have to leave.

  For good.

  Chapter 20

  Joey

  I knock on Dani’s front door and wait, my hands tucked behind my back, the pressure building in my chest. The sun has risen, I haven’t seen Holden since he cracked me on the nose this morning, and the crazy-anger that pulsed through me this morning has finally dissipated.

  I’m OK.

  I’m not going to break my brother’s back for what he did. I’m not going to overreact.

  But I will find Dani and make her mine and mine alone.

  If she’s got a choice, she’ll choose me. Simple as hell.

  The clouds from last night have already lifted, and another beautiful blue day has dawned in the Caribbean. Mystique Island is alive with events. Beautiful masked women hop around naked in the sand nearby, playing volleyball, their tits bouncing—all different shapes and sizes.

  A couple days ago, I would’ve been in their midst, sucking breasts and getting sucked off by more than one woman at a time.

  Now, nothing appeals to me less.

  I knock again. “Dani,” I call out. “It’s Joey. Open up.”

  No answer. She’s not home, or she’s ignoring me.

  Footsteps thump up the path behind me, and I turn, finding a dude without his mask. He’s one of the cleaners here, judging by the keys attached to his belt and the supplies he carts in a basket in one hand.

  He stops and frowns at me. “Sir?”

  I adjust my mask—I can’t afford to break any more rules or I won’t see Dani again—and nod to him. “You guys only come to the villa when the resident has left, right?”

  “That’s correct, sir.”

  “Which means Dani isn’t here,” I mutter, more to myself than to him.

  “Yes, sir. She left not ten minutes ago. I believe she’s in the main reception area, talking with Mistress Prunella about leaving the island.”

  “Mistress Prunella?” I blink. What the fuck kind of name is that?

  “Yes, sir. If you’ll excuse me, sir, I need to clean her villa before she returns.”

  I nod and step out of her path. Obviously, the cleaner dude has no reason to hide her whereabouts from me. I’m a guest of the island. A billionaire guest, and this is a safe place. If Dani didn’t want to be found, she would have told them as much.

  I take two steps down the path, then halt and turn back. “Yo, dude.”

  The cleaner guy stops, his brown doe eyes wide. He’s pale, with freckles, probably in his twenties. This has to be a dream job for him. Good pay and an eyeful of pussy wherever he goes. “Yes, sir?”

  “Pay extra attention to the sofa cushions.” I walk off down t
he path and make my way toward the boardwalk that trails between the island-style buildings. There are thatched roofs and tiled ones, pale white walls, a central garden that features native flowers and trees. Birds flit between branches and people sit on benches there, some of them with their dicks wet, others with their faces dripping cum.

  Island paradise. That’s what this is for most people.

  Not for me, at the moment.

  You started this. You should’ve left her alone on the beach.

  Nah, I shouldn’t have.

  She was mine from the start. I just didn’t know it until I laid eyes on her.

  I walk past the main banquet hall, empty now, and head down the walkway that leads to the reception area. It’s a building removed from the rest of the resort, near a grouping of palm trees that lead back into a thicker forest.

  There’s a long span of boardwalk between here and there, bordered by white sand, pebbles, emptiness on my right, and water on my left. My bare feet thunk on the boards, and I quicken my pace.

  Why is she at reception talking to Miss Prune or whatever the fuck her name is?

  No one on this island bothers with reception.

  I reach the small building and open the glass front door, stepping inside.

  “You’ll have to sign a disclaimer that states you’re leaving early, dear,” the bespectacled woman behind the desk says. “It’s general policy that early-leavers don’t get a second invite to the island.”

  Dani’s back is to me. She’s dressed in a pair of cutoff jean shorts and a fitted camisole, her long dark hair tossed over one shoulder.

  Christ, she’s perfect from behind.

  “That’s fine,” she says. “I won’t be coming back.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that, dear,” the woman says. She’s totally unsuited to the island—older, probably a prude. Maybe that’s why they’ve got her hidden in reception on this side of Mystique. “Usually, the women who attend Mystique’s events have a fabulous time.”

  “It’s not the island,” Dani breathes. “It’s lovely here. It’s just that some personal complications have arisen—”

  The receptionist nods, her eyes made small by the lenses of her glasses. She looks past Dani and spots me, then arches an eyebrow. “May I help you, sir? Goodness, it’s never this busy in reception. Would you like some coffee while you wait until I’m finished with this lady’s query?”

  This is surreal. It’s as if I’ve stepped off Mystique and into a dentist’s office.

  “Dani, what are you doing?” I ask.

  She spins around and that cursed fucking mask hides her features from me. Her perfection.

  “Joey?” She swallows. “Hi.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “The only thing I can do,” she replies. “I’m leaving.”

  I cross the sparkling tiles in two long strides then sweep her into my arms, holding her close.

  She lets her arms hang limp, but she reacts to me regardless. Her lips part, and a tiny sigh escapes.

  This woman needs me. She craves me as much as I crave her. “You can’t leave.”

  “I have to,” she says and shakes her head, placing a palm to my chest. She pushes away from me, and I let her go, though I fucking hate it. “It’s not right. None of what’s happened is right. Last night, Holden—”

  “Is this about the fight?” I can’t promise I’d take it back, given the chance. No, I’d probably break my brother’s nose.

  “It’s about everything. This can’t happen. It’s not healthy for any of us. Your relationship with your brother is more important than—” Dani stiffens and looks over her shoulder at the receptionist, who’s clearly way too curious about this conversation.

  Miss Pruney jumps and busies herself with papers on her desk.

  “Let’s talk outside.” I take her hand.

  “I’ll be back shortly, Mistress Prunella.” Dani squares her shoulders—one of the straps of her camisole slips down her arm, and she fixes it, absently. “Please prepare those documents for me.”

  “Of course, dear,” the woman says and looks up as if she hasn’t heard a word of our talk.

  I lead Dani out onto the boardwalk, and we stand under the sun, looking out on the turquoise ocean. Someone’s got a boat out there, and they’re tearing it up. People shriek and laugh, others glide by on water skis.

  The sun bakes my forehead and sweat trickles down my temples. I squeeze Dani’s fingers. “You’re not leaving.”

  “Don’t you understand, Joey? Holden gave me a choice. It’s him or nothing. And I bet you’ll tell me it’s you or nothing.”

  “That’s right,” I reply. That’s what I want. Just me and her, somewhere special together. We can travel the world. She wants that. She wants the freedom, right? So, she can have it with me. We’ll take first-class flights and stay up late talking, feeding each other, fucking.

  “But that’s wrong,” Dani says. “I can’t—I care about both of you.”

  “Just because you’ve known him longer doesn’t mean he’s the one for you.” It’s petty to talk like this behind Holden’s back, but I’d say the same to his face, and he’d do it, too. He did last night when he told her I want nothing but sex.

  “It doesn’t matter who’s the one for me. It matters that I don’t ruin your relationship. You’re family. That’s important.” Dani slips her hand from my grasp and sets off down the boardwalk at a blistering pace.

  I follow her.

  “Dani, you can’t walk away from me that easily.”

  She doesn’t reply.

  Fuck, I hate being the follower in this scenario. I’ve never chased pussy in my life. It’s always fallen onto my dick. But Dani isn’t “pussy.” She’s my woman. She’s redefined how I think about life over the course of a couple days.

  It’s crazy, and that’s fine. I’m fucking crazy.

  We zip down the boardwalk, past the garden and its couples and threesomes, down onto the beach and past an orgy of men and women, then up to her villa’s front door.

  She spins on the threshold and presses out a palm.

  “I’m not leaving before we talk this through,” I say. “I’ll stay out here all day if I have to. This is more than just a weekend for me, Dani.” And that takes a lot to say.

  Dani hesitates, licks her lips. “Fine. Come in. You can help me pack my bags.”

  Chapter 21

  Danielle

  I let us into the villa and walk past the sofa and—wait, what?

  I stop dead in my tracks. “That’s—what?” The sofa has been exchanged with another one. This one is forest green and leather. “What happened?”

  “They obviously realized they needed to clean up in here,” Joey says.

  “Wow.” But sofa exchanges are the least of my worries. I march across the boards and into my bedroom. The bed is already made, though I left it a mess this morning, and the windows are open, the curtains hanging either side, touched every now and again by the breeze.

  I drag open the top drawer of my dresser, ignoring my reflection in the mirror above it, and bring out the small pieces that I packed for this trip. Personal things, like underwear and bras, though I haven’t used them since I’ve been here, and my journal.

  In its pages are countless fantasies about loving Holden, living with him, being with him. Being a second mother to his daughter.

  I’ll miss Jessie. Obviously, I can’t go back to the house and see her again.

  That’s going to break me up inside, but it’s what’s best for her.

  I bend and grab my little carry-on bag from under the dresser, then dump it on the bed. I follow that up by tossing the other stuff down next to it. I’m not angry at anyone but myself.

  I’ve ruined everything.

  I should never have come to Mystique. I’ve tossed so much out of the window just because I had a proverbial itch to scratch.

  Idiot, idiot, idiot.

  “Dani, stop.” Joey grabs my wrists and drags me aroun
d the side of the bed, toward him. I’ve done my best to ignore his presence. To pretend he doesn’t exist so I can keep a clear head while I pack.

  It’s not working.

  “I have to go. It’s the right thing to do,” I say.

  “No, it’s not.” His grip bites into my wrists. It hurts a little, but I don’t care. He’s touching me, and I love that. I love that even though I shouldn’t.

  God, I’m such a fucking mess.

  “I’m falling for you,” he says.

  “What? How? We don’t know each other. It’s been a few days.”

  “You can’t tell me you don’t feel the connection between us,” he replies, probing me with that ocean gaze. He’s so clear about what he wants, and I envy that. “I don’t care if it’s crazy. I’m fucking crazy. I always have been. I’ve been living an empty life without you in it. I thought I had it all, Dani. I thought my life was the best life. Fucking whenever I want, drinking, eating out. But I have no home. I have no soul. Not without you in my life.”

  “I can’t be your soul,” I say. “I can’t be your soul because I still love Holden, too.”

  “I don’t fucking care.” He shakes as he says it. Shakes so hard that I tremble along with him. “I don’t fucking care if you love him, too. All I want is you. If I lose you because I’m too stubborn to admit that you love him and he loves you, I’ll never forgive myself.” His eyes water. It can’t be tears. He’s too strong for that. So much stronger than me.

  “Joey—”

  He interrupts me with a kiss, so hot and sweet I can’t muster up any thought. I run my fingers up his chest and cup his cheeks, relish the scrape of his stubble against my skin. God, I’m falling for him, too.

  I barely know him, but the connection between us is intense. Every time he touches me, he unlocks something different. Heat, passion, submission.

  Joey’s kiss is frantic. He tastes my tongue, then sucks my bottom lip, nibbles it, then moves to my chin, my left eye, the tip of my nose, my right eye. “I won’t let you go,” he says, punctuating each word with a kiss somewhere else. “I don’t fucking care. You’re my drug, Dani. I won’t let you go.”

  I moan and dissolve into him, taking all the kisses he gives me.