Touch of Paradise. Dara Girard

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Touch of Paradise - Dara Girard Mills & Boon Kimani

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him. Now Candace was gone, and Aaron had taken her place. Rebecca couldn’t afford to have anything else go wrong. Worst of all, she didn’t want him to see her as the helpless damsel she’d been all those years ago.

      “Find someone else.”

      Kelli raised a brow. “Are you interested?”

      “No. I just don’t want you distracted. We’re here on business.”

      “I’ll be discreet, then.”

      “Good.”

      Kelli folded her arms, sending Rebecca a significant look. “Are you sure you’re not interested?”

      “I don’t have time to be interested in anyone.”

      “It’s been two years since your breakup. Don’t you think—”

      “I think you have too much time on your hands. I want to take a nap before I meet with the stage director.”

      Kelli sighed and left. But Rebecca didn’t take a nap. She couldn’t sleep. Kelli was on the prowl, and Rebecca couldn’t blame her. Aaron was a worthy target. She’d been just as eager to get his attention ten years ago, but for a different reason...

      Ten years ago

      It was really hard to run in three-inch high heels. Even harder to run on a boat, away from a drunken college sophomore she had only just met that evening, who wanted to bed as many coeds as he could on spring break. “Come on, don’t be like that,” he said. Although his words were slurred, his pace was incredibly steady.

      “I said leave me alone!” Rebecca shouted over her shoulder. She could see the lights of the island in the distance. The sun had set an hour ago, but there was still a purple haze that colored the sky. She knew she couldn’t make a swim for it. She wished she hadn’t decided to go on the two-level rental party boat and had stayed in her room with her roommate, Marie, instead.

      “I just think we’ll have a good time together,” she had told Marie.

      She’d heard the rumors and knew what some of the boys expected. Her two other friends were already giving his buddies “good times” somewhere on the boat, but this wasn’t the kind of holiday she’d been hoping for. She’d wanted to go sailing, laze on the beach, shop in one of the crowded outdoor markets. Instead, she’d found herself getting crushed at a keg party, and now running from a drunken college guy who had arms like an octopus. One of those arms reached her and pulled her to him.

      “You know, your little act is getting old.”

      Rebecca tried to shove him away. He smelled of stale aftershave and beer. “It’s not an act. I’m not interested.”

      He looked her over. “It’s not like you should be picky. There are prettier girls out here.”

      “Then find one of them.” She tried hard to push him off her, but he held her even closer.

      “Why? I’ve got you right here.” He leaned in to kiss her.

      She bit his lip.

      He swore and shoved her back, calling her a foul name. “You think that was funny?” he said, touching his lip and seeing blood on his fingers.

      “I warned you.” But the look in his eyes let her know that her warning had only enraged him. She started running again, getting enough distance to turn a corner out of sight, but she knew there was no cabin room for her to hide in. So she grabbed the rail and swung herself over the side of the boat, hoping that he would pass her without looking down. She heard his footsteps. Heard him swear and then disappear below deck. She held on a little longer, but soon felt her grip slipping. She started to lift herself back up, glad for the cardio class she’d started to take on campus. She had nearly pulled herself all the way up when the chaser popped up and said, “Gotcha!”

      His sudden presence startled her. She lost her grip and started to fall backward. He reached out to grab her, but his attempt was clumsy and had too much force. He managed to grip her sleeve and pulled her forward instead of up, and she hit her head before the soft material of her dress ripped in his fingers and she fell into the water, unconscious.

       Chapter 3

      Rebecca woke up to the sound of voices. When she opened her eyes, she found she was on a rescue craft, and a young man, dripping wet, leaned over her. “You’re going to be okay. No, don’t sit up,” he said gently, pulling her jacket closer together. Then she remembered she hadn’t been wearing a jacket—especially not a man’s dinner jacket. She looked up at him and saw his white shirt plastered to his muscled chest. She couldn’t really place him. He looked much older than the college crowd. “What happened?”

      “I saw you go overboard,” he said in a rich island lilt.

      “And you saved me?” she said with awe. “I could have been attacked by a shark, or stung by jellyfish or drowned.”

      The corner of his mouth kicked up in a quick grin. “I did what anyone would have done. But you have to be more careful. How much have you had to drink?”

      “Nothing.”

      “Then what were you doing hanging over the side of the boat?”

      “I was trying to get away—” She stiffened and sat up too fast. She held her head as the world started to spin.

      He reached out to steady her. “I told you to keep still.”

      “But where is he? I made him so angry.”

      The man gently pushed her back down. “Relax. You don’t have to worry about him anymore.”

      “He wouldn’t leave me alone.”

      “He will now,” he said in a grim tone. “And the next time someone bothers you, you just come to me...” He lifted his brow in a question.

      “Becca,” she said.

      He nodded. “You have nothing to worry about. You’re safe now.”

      “Who are you?”

      “Aaron.”

      She wanted to ask him more questions, but the boat landed on the island before she could. The EMTs rushed to meet them. Her rescuer spoke to one of the police officers on the scene while one of the EMTs assessed her, taking her vital signs and applying some ointment to the bruise on her forehead. He tried to encourage her to go to the hospital, but she declined. “I just want to go home and go to sleep.”

      “You’ve suffered a mild concussion, and going home and sleeping wouldn’t be a good idea,” he said. “Do you have someone who can be with you through the night?”

      “No, but—”

      “Then it’s best that you come with us.” The EMTs began to lead her to the waiting ambulance.

      “Please, please,” she said, starting to panic. “I really don’t want to.”

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