A Yuletide Affair. Monica Richardson
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Why don’t you peruse the homes on my site and see if there’s anything that you’re interested in? Save us both a lot of time and effort.”
He studied the card. Flipped it over. “So I can reach you at this number?”
“If necessary,” she said.
“Is it your personal cell, or will this take me to voice mail?”
“I don’t do voice mail, Mr. Steel. My clientele is way too important for that. I have a personal assistant who handles all of my calls.”
“Ah, I see,” he said thoughtfully. “I’ll give you a call in the morning. Maybe you can fit me in tomorrow afternoon.”
“Can’t tomorrow. Early afternoon, I have an appointment with a client. And then right after that, I’m scheduled to taste wedding cake with my sister.”
“Um, Alyson... I meant to tell you that we’d rescheduled that appointment for Friday,” Jasmine chimed in. “The bakery called this morning.”
“When exactly were you going to tell me?” she attempted to whisper.
“I called Jules and had her check your schedule, and she penciled you in for the tasting on Friday. So it looks like you’re free tomorrow afternoon...to show Samson some properties...” she caught Alyson’s wicked glance “...or not.”
“Call my office tomorrow, and I’ll try to fit you in.” There was no way out of this one.
“I appreciate that, Alyson Talbot.” He smiled widely again. “I’m looking forward to you fitting me in.”
He shouldn’t get it twisted, she thought. This would be strictly business.
No doubt, he was enigmatic—it kept people at arm’s length. It allowed him to share only what he wanted others to know. He’d come to the Bahamas where the only person he knew was Jackson Conner, his buddy from college. They’d met at Harvard and had kept in touch over the years. Though they hadn’t spoken every day, he considered Jackson to be a good friend. And he was shocked to learn that Jackson had abandoned his hometown of Key West, fallen in love with a Bahamian girl and taken up residence in the Caribbean. His friend had always been a city fellow. A contractor, Jackson had owned a successful business in Florida and had built some of the finest properties that Samson had ever seen. That is, until meeting Jasmine Talbot.
It was Jackson whom Samson called on the phone that day when life seemed unbearable.
“I never thought you’d leave Florida. And I’m surprised that some woman has snagged you and taken you toward the altar!” Samson had told Jackson.
“I never thought I would, either,” said Jackson, “but love has a way of rearranging your entire life.”
“I wouldn’t know. I’m an eternal bachelor.”
“Yep, I thought I was, too,” said Jackson. “You just need to bump into that woman who will turn your world upside down.”
“I’ve had plenty of women turn my world upside down, for a good twenty, maybe thirty minutes.” Samson laughed. “And then I’d roll over and fall asleep.”
“I’m talking about for life, not just in the bedroom,” Jackson said. “You should come over here for a visit, man! It’s the best place to clear your head after everything that’s happened. Besides, I’d really like for you to be here for the wedding.”
“Jackson Conner’s getting married,” said Samson. “Wow!”
“It’s not that far-fetched,” Jackson said. “Now you, on the other hand, you’re afraid of marriage.”
“I’m not afraid of marriage. I just don’t think it’s necessary. There are too many beautiful women out there to settle down with just one.” Samson sighed. “But that’s just the world according to Samson. Obviously you have a different opinion about it, bro.”
“I absolutely do. And you will, too, someday. Some little honey is going to snatch your ass up one day, have you making her an omelet wearing nothing more than an apron and your birthday suit.”
They both laughed. It had been months since Samson had joked like that. There hadn’t been much to laugh about.
“I can’t live without her. I had to make her my wife.” Jackson was more serious then. “She changed my life.”
“I’m truly happy for you, Jax man. I wish you the best.”
“What about you? What’s your next move?”
“Don’t know.”
“Come over here for a few weeks,” Jackson had insisted. “Relax a bit. Get a new perspective.”
“I don’t know, man.”
“I’ll have Jasmine hook you up with a room at the Grove,” Jackson said emphatically.
The Grove was a trio of old homes that had been transformed by Jackson’s construction company into beautiful beachfront properties. Each home had its own distinct personality, theme and name. Ironically, Samson had chosen to stay in the home that happened to share his name, Samson Place. It was tranquil and bold, much like him. Decorated in Caribbean colors—pink, blue and yellow—Samson soon found his temporary home there. After settling in at the Grove, he’d resolved to only return to Chicago when his head was clear, and not a day before.
When he’d first laid eyes on Alyson Talbot, he thought she was beautiful. Her hard exterior was a dead giveaway. She was able to fool everybody else, but he had her figured out from the beginning. She was insecure. He flirted because...hell...he was a flirt. Samson was charismatic and loved women—and they loved him. He knew he’d never settle down with any of them for any significant length of time anyway. So he had fun—enjoyed life. Not because he had a fear of commitment, but because he knew he’d never find everything he wanted in one woman. It was impossible.
As beautiful as Alyson Talbot was, she wasn’t his type. In his opinion, she was snooty and judgmental—two qualities that he wouldn’t tolerate. He’d already read her, and had met a million other women just like her in his lifetime. And concluded that she’d been hurt by someone in her past, which was why she’d decided to take it out on every man alive. And that, he didn’t have time for. He was too busy healing his own wounds, which was why he was in the Bahamas to begin with.
He sat on a stool, the acoustic guitar resting on his leg, his fingertips fretting the strings. He closed his eyes for a moment. Listened as the music resonated through the room. It was a beautiful love song, and the band’s lead singer sang the Caribbean ballad with confidence. When Samson opened his eyes, he caught Alyson eyeballing him from across the room. Her eyes were focused on him, and his on her. For a brief moment he thought she was feeling him. That is, until she seemed to realize she’d stared too long, and looked away. She began toying with her phone.
She was dressed in business attire, and he doubted that she even owned a pair of sweatpants or jeans. She probably didn’t dress down very often. Always on guard, always prepared, regimented. A pair of black slacks hugged her ample hips. A gray jacket barely contained her generous bosom. He thought she was sexy as hell, with long flowing hair, high cheekbones and a gorgeous, fleeting smile.
He wasn’t interested in settling in the Bahamas, but he was interested in getting in between Alyson Talbot’s thighs. If spending time with her meant he had to look at beautiful properties along the island’s coast, then he’d entertain it. Contrary to what she believed, he could own just about any property he wanted on the islands. He’d invested his money well and had built quite the nest egg. He had money and could afford any of Alyson’s properties, but it wasn’t real estate that he was interested in at all. Besides, he was sure that the island life wasn’t for him. After all, he was a big-city man with big-city hopes and dreams. And the thought of living on an island