What she didn’t discover from Donald Jones, she had learned from his entourage.
She had finally used all that knowledge to secure a generous loan from Raymond Casillas. It had been a huge risk. She didn’t trust the aging playboy and knew he was going to find a way to have her repay him with sex. That wasn’t going to happen.
Unfortunately, she was behind on her loan payment and she couldn’t miss another month. Ashley shuddered, the icy-cold fear trickling down her spine as she considered the consequences. Just a few more rich celebrities seeking privacy on her island—okay, quite a few more—and she would be free of the threat.
Ashley walked down the hill with renewed determination. She strode along the sturdy wood dock, blocking the bright sun with her hand as she took a closer look at her guest, Sebastian Esteban.
The man stood on the deck like a conquering hero waiting to be swarmed by the grateful natives. Her heart started to pound against her chest. She noticed the thick dark hair ruffling slightly in the wind and the T-shirt stretched against his broad chest. His powerful legs were encased in faded jeans. She felt an unfamiliar pull low in her belly as she stared at the gorgeous stranger.
“Huh,” Clea said as she walked alongside Ashley. “There’s something familiar about that man.”
“Is he famous? An actor?” Ashley immediately dismissed that idea. While his stunning good looks would make Hollywood lay down the red carpet for him, she sensed Sebastian Esteban wasn’t the kind who would trade on his harsh, masculine features. The blade of his nose and the slash of his mouth suggested aristocracy, but the high, slanted cheekbones and the thrust of his angular jaw indicated that he fought for every inch of his territory.
“Can’t say for sure,” Clea muttered. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”
It didn’t matter what he did for a living, she decided. She wasn’t going to be starstruck. Ashley had intentionally cut herself off from the world when her parents died five years ago. She would probably recognize a few superstars, but she didn’t keep up with the current celebrities. Yet she didn’t think she could tolerate another famous person who thought basic manners applied to everyone else and not them.
“Mr. Esteban?” Ashley asked as she reached out her hand. She looked up and their gazes clashed and held. Her safe little existence went completely still as the beat of her heart pounded in her ears. Anticipation rushed through her as Sebastian touched her hand. When his large fingers enclosed hers, her world shifted. She saw the glow of interest in his dark eyes as the energy, wild and violent, ripped through her.
Ashley wanted to jerk back, but the stranger held her fingers captive. Her muscles clenched as every instinct told her to hide. But she couldn’t move. She was frozen as the dark, swirling emotions threatened to pull her under.
“Please, call me Sebastian.”
She shivered at the sound of his rough, deep voice. “I’m Ashley,” she said. It was difficult to push the words out of her tight throat. “Welcome to Inez Key. I hope you will enjoy your visit.”
Something hot and wicked flickered in his eyes before he released her hand. “Thank you, I will.”
As she stiffly introduced Clea and Louis, she reluctantly noticed how Sebastian towered over her, his broad shoulders blocking out the sun. She could feel his masculine power coming off him in waves.
She covertly watched him as he refused Louis’s assistance and tossed his backpack over his shoulder. Who was this man? He was wealthy enough to own that boat, but he didn’t wear designer clothes. He had no entourage or tower of luggage, but he could afford to stay at her home for an exclusive weekend.
“You’ll stay here in the main house,” Clea said as they escorted him up the hill toward the white mansion.
Sebastian stood for a moment as he studied the plantation home. His expression was blank and his eyes were hooded, but she felt an explosive tension emanating from him.
Ashley wondered what he thought about her home. The guests were always in awe of the antebellum architecture. They saw the clean lines and graceful symmetry, the massive columns that stretched from the ground to the black rooftop and surrounded every side of the house. The balconies hinted of an elegant world long forgotten and one could almost ignore that the large black window shutters were for protection from the elements instead of decoration.
But no one noticed that her home was falling apart. There was only so much that a slap of paint, a carefully angled table or a fresh bouquet of flowers could hide. The antique furniture, the artwork, anything of value, had been sold years ago.
As they walked into the grand hall, she dimly heard Clea offer refreshments. Ashley glanced around and hoped she had not overlooked anything. She wanted Sebastian Esteban to notice the curving staircase and how the sunlight caught the crystal chandelier instead of the faded wallpaper. Yet the way he quietly studied the room, she sensed that he saw everything.
Ashley stifled a gasp when she felt Clea jab her bony elbow in her ribs. “Miss Ashley, why don’t you show Mr. Sebastian his room while I get the drinks?”
She gritted her teeth. “Of course. This way, please.” Ashley bent her head as she approached the stairs. She didn’t want to be alone with this man. She wasn’t afraid of Sebastian Esteban, but she was uncomfortable with her reaction. This wasn’t like her.
Ashley’s skin tingled as she climbed the stairs ahead of Sebastian. Her cutoff shorts felt small as she felt his heated gaze on her bare legs. She should have listened to Clea and worn a dress that covered every inch of skin.
But she immediately dismissed that idea. She wanted to hide, but at the same time she wanted Sebastian to notice her. Her chest rose and fell as she quickened her step. Ashley wished she could ignore the fast and furious attraction. So what if she found Sebastian sexy? Any woman would find him desirable.
Ashley didn’t look at Sebastian as she flung open the door to the master suite and gestured for him to enter. “This is your room,” she announced. “The walk-in closet and bathroom is through that door.”
He strode to the center of the room and Ashley knew he wouldn’t find fault in his accommodations here. It was the largest room and offered a magnificent view. She had placed the best furniture in the sitting area. The four-poster bed was carved mahogany and was big enough for him to lie in the center with his arms stretched out.
Ashley closed her eyes as the unwelcoming heat flushed through her skin. Why did she have to think of that? She wanted to purge the idea of him on the bed, as he lay on the rumpled sheets, naked and gleaming with sweat. She imagined his lean and muscular arms extended as if he was waiting for her. Welcoming her.
“Am I kicking you out of your bed?” Sebastian asked.
“What?” she asked hoarsely. The vision of her curled up next to him on the four-poster bed bloomed in her mind. She shook her head to dispel it. “No, I don’t stay here.”
“Why not?” he asked as he tossed his backpack on the bed. The bag looked out of place against the vintage handmade quilt. “It’s the master suite, isn’t it?”
“Yes.” She nervously darted the tip of her tongue along her dry lips. She couldn’t explain it to him. That this room, this bed, had been the center stage for her parents’ destructive relationship. The affair between her father, Donald Jones, and her mother, his longtime mistress Linda Valdez had
