Tonight his focus was on finding one particular woman. Thursday was her birthday, and he intended to help her celebrate. In fact, whether she knew it or not, he intended to spend all of his time with her, if that’s what it took. He was determined that by the time they left Dunwoody Cove their relationship would have moved to a whole new level—sexual, that is. She would no longer see him as the brother of one of her closest friends. Instead, he planned on being a whole lot more.
He suddenly heard that throaty laughter of hers and his head spun around in that direction. Even in dim light his gaze focused on Peyton sitting on a stool at the bar with several men standing around her. Already she’d acquired a fan club. She had been at the resort two days before he’d arrived and that might have been two days too many, he thought. But he would remedy that very soon.
Now that he’d arrived he wouldn’t waste any time staking his claim…but subtly. He wouldn’t rush her, but he intended to be thorough in his pursuit. Two weeks would just be the start of things—the groundbreaking for their relationship, so to speak. He had decided that the best approach was to get her away from her life in Oklahoma—here, unsuspecting, alone and with him.
First he had to gain her trust, though there was no reason for her not to trust him. After all, he was Samari Di Meglio Madaris’s brother. She had known him close to seven years and seemed comfortable with the friendship they’d forged. He wanted her to see him not just as a friend, but as something more. He wanted her to take the blinders off and finally see what others had been seeing for years. It went deeper than just the physical attraction, but he was willing to stoke the sexual chemistry first.
Peyton being here at Dunwoody Cove was his idea. Getting Mac and Sam to go along with his plan hadn’t been easy. After all, Peyton was their best friend and they knew of his reputation when it came to women. Convincing them he wanted more out of a relationship with her had been difficult, and they had questioned his motives. Nevertheless, he took it in stride since he’d made up his mind to go after Peyton with or without their help. And once he made up his mind about something, there was no stopping him. But there was a nagging question: why was he so determined to have her?
Peyton was sitting on a barstool in a slinky black cocktail dress with a split up the side that displayed nearly every inch of her thigh and gorgeous leg. She looked absolutely stunning, the way the thickness of her dreadlocks swept across her shoulders. She hadn’t seen him yet, which gave him a chance to observe her unnoticed. Although she usually came off tough as nails, there was a softness that showed in her face. Her lips were full and sexy, and the reason why he had laid in bed so many times thinking about how it would feel to taste them. Her coffee-colored skin framed her dark eyes. And a pair of gold chandelier earrings dangled from her earlobes, giving her an exotic, sensual look.
She shifted in her seat, revealing a bit more of her thigh, and a spasm of desire coursed through him. He couldn’t see much of her dress. But from what he could see, it covered just enough to make him fantasize about the rest of her.
The men standing around her were eagerly hanging on her every word. They reminded him of predators circling their prey, ready to pounce at the first chance. And he intended to make sure they didn’t. They may have put her at the top of the food chain, but he was going to have her on his menu for her entire stay.
Peyton laughed again, throwing her head back and accentuating her long graceful neck. She sat there looking simply gorgeous and more dazzling than any other woman in the room. This wasn’t the first time he’d seen her look so jaw-droppingly beautiful. There had been times they’d run into each other at weddings and family gatherings. And she always managed to garner more than enough attention, just like now.
When she laughed again, he figured she had started the party without him and it was time to make his presence known, especially when one of the men continued refilling her cocktail as another placed his hand in the center of her back, touching her bare skin.
Not on his watch.
Ignoring the women looking in his direction, he moved toward the bar where Peyton sat entertaining her audience. He frowned the closer he got. It seemed one guy in particular intended to make her his for the night, the one who kept refreshing her cocktail.
She was talkative, more than he’d ever seen before. When he was in her line of sight, she blinked. Seconds later, a huge smile spread across her lips, from corner to corner. “Angelo! What on earth are you doing here?”
Angelo smiled warmly at her as he moved past the men encircling her and came to a stop in front of her. He heard the slight slur in her voice, which meant she’d had one drink too many. “Maybe I should be asking you the same thing, Pey,” he said, intentionally using her nickname to convey his familiarity as he gently pried the glass out of her hand and placed it on the counter.
Angelo knew that Peyton wasn’t a drinker, seldom touched the stuff. She wasn’t completely sloshed yet, but a few more would get her there. “What are you drinking?” he asked her.
She shrugged her shoulders. “Scotch and water. I don’t drink much.”
Angelo nodded. “I know.” He glanced at the glass. It was more Scotch than water.
“I’m celebrating my birthday. It’s this week, and I’ll be thirty.”
He heard the excitement in her voice. “I know that,” he said, “and an early happy birthday to you.”
“Thanks. These guys are helping me celebrate,” she said, motioning to the men standing around her.
“Umm, you don’t say.” Angelo stared at them, taking a hard look at each one of them. A few had the decency to look away, probably to shield the guilty looks on their faces. He knew just how they had intended to help her celebrate.
“Yes, wasn’t that nice of them?”
She really didn’t want to know what he truly thought of them, so instead of answering, he slid onto the stool opposite her. “How can you be turning thirty when you don’t look a day over twenty-five?”
She reached out and patted his cheek. “You’re so sweet, Angelo.”
“Hey, evidently you don’t know the rules around here,” the man who’d had a heavy hand in refreshing her drink said gruffly, moving to stand closer to Peyton’s side.
Angelo gave the man a hard look. “No, I think you’re the one who doesn’t know the rules, especially with the amount of Scotch you’ve been giving her,” he said, glancing back at Peyton, and seeing the glassy look in her eyes.
“He was just being nice, Angelo,” she said softly, smiling. “I’m here to have a good time, right?”
“Right, but I think you’ve had too much of a good time for now.”
She nodded slowly. “Yes, I think so, too.” Then she leaned in closer. He ignored how good she smelled and listened attentively when she whispered, “I’m beginning to feel sick.”
“Then, let me get you to your room,” he said, standing.
“Hey, look here, buddy,” the man said angrily.
Angelo turned stony eyes on him. “No, you look,” he said in a steely voice, trying to keep it down so as not to cause a scene. But if he had to, he would. “You were deliberately trying to get her drunk. Now, I suggest you haul ass before I kick yours.”
The man was about to open his mouth
