Sunset Desires

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  Sunset Desires

  Copyright © 2012 by C.R. Moss

  ISBN: 978-1-61333-210-8

  Cover art by LFD Designs

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work, in whole or in part, in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher.

  Published by Decadent Publishing Company, LLC

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  www.decadentpublishing.com

  Sunset Desires

  A 1Night Stand Story

  By

  C.R. Moss

  ~DEDICATION~

  As always, to my DH, love you, babe! Also, a special thanks to my EBW gals who helped me out with this project. You guys rock!

  Chapter One

  “You did what?” Gwendolyn Tramonto’s jaw dropped open in surprise. Her heart skipping a beat, she glanced at her cousin, Seana, and her sister, Ivy, whose mouth hung open in a large O, then stared at her cousin, Heather. Gwen white-knuckled the local-brew beer bottle.

  Heather reached across the small cocktail table in the southern porch style beach bar and patted her hand. “I set up a date for your last night here on this beautiful island. You know, end your trip to Grand Cayman with a tickle and bang.” Grinning, she relaxed back into her seat. “In fact, I tried setting some up for all of us, but since I had to work around the men’s schedules, Ivy’s, Seana’s and mine will happen after we return home.”

  Astonished, Gwen shook her head. A length of dirty-blonde hair that had escaped her ponytail fell across her eye. She swept it back. “I don’t believe this. Did you guys know about her plan to pimp us out?”

  Ivy and Seana shrugged, perplexed expressions on their faces. They shook their heads.

  “None of you knew,” Heather offered, seeming a bit put off by their lackluster reactions. She drummed her fingers on the wide arm of the weather-worn wood chair. “All our matches have been made through a very prestigious and respected matchmaking service. The owner, Madame Evangeline, had me complete extensive questionnaires. She runs background checks. Everything’s on the up and up and safe.”

  “So that’s what all those odd questions have been about over the past few months,” Seana stated, a trace of a British accent she affected for her acting gig and didn’t want to lose while on vacation slipping through. She sipped from her glass of merlot. “My roommates and I were wondering.”

  “Now you know. I could answer most of the questions on my own, but there were those few I needed help with.”

  Seana smiled. “I must say, though your presumption to find us men piques me, I am oddly intrigued. I want to see what kind of man this woman thinks is my match.”

  “Good!” Heather returned her cousin’s grin. “So, Gwen, you’re not mad at me, are you?”

  Gwen shook her head. “No. Just a little nervous is all.” To calm down she sucked in a humid stream of air, bringing with it the heady scents of sand, sun, and surf mixed with the aromas of bar food and beer. Though the sun dipped toward the horizon, the heat still stuck around. The warmth didn’t bother her, but her anxiety about the upcoming situation did. Heather had asked some pretty personal questions. At the time, she’d figured her cousin had grown lonely—too much work, not enough socializing, and probably wanted a better connection with family, a friend. But now…. Despite the high temperature, a chill racked her body. “Oh my God, that fantasy question. You told a total stranger about my fantasy?” Her high-pitched squeal rose above the clamor of the bar.

  A few patrons sitting on the stools lining the center horseshoe bar turned to stare in her direction. Mortified over her outburst, she slumped in her chair.

  A flicker of unease crossed Heather’s features, but she had a great poker face and composed herself in an instant. “Don’t hate me, but yes. From what I understand, Madame Eve has a knack for bringing the right people together, whether due to the questions or a sixth sense I don’t know, but the woman who referred me raved about her and the service.”

  “But what if we don’t want to find our soul mates yet?” Ivy, an athletic woman and thrill-seeker who couldn’t settle down for anything so far, shifted in her seat. Concern tinged her voice. “You know not all of us want to commit to someone quite yet.”

  “Don’t worry, dear cousin. I kept that in mind.” Heather showed off her perfect, straight white teeth. “I made specific requests for each of us. Gwen will meet her man in a little while. The rest of us will have our chance in Vegas.”

  “I don’t know if I should be scared or not,” Ivy stated with a wink.

  “You, Ivy? Scared?” Seana raised a brow.

  “Nah, you know me. I’m going to treat it like a grand adventure, but what I’d like to know, Heather, is why?”

  “I figured with our track records of no men, getting dumped, no time… etcetera, etcetera, we needed a little bit of adult fun and a change of pace. Now, back to you, Gwen.” Heather retrieved an item from beneath her chair. “If you’re up for the challenge of having a nice time tonight, then take this.”

  Geez, when was the last time I went out? One year? Two? Pathetic either way. It would be nice to go out, maybe have some dinner, dancing, male companionship. Be served for once instead of serving someone else. Be touched and loved… desired… instead of feeling like a dried-up old maid.

  Gwen accepted the long-stemmed, sunset-colored rose wrapped in a shiny blue plastic sleeve, her mind churning over how Heather had told that Madame Evangeline woman about her secret desires. Did she tell her everything? She searched for something witty to say to distract herself from the troubling thoughts. “And it’s not even my birthday. So what’s with the flower?”

  “It’s your date’s identifier. It’ll help him correlate you to the photo he has. Like a second identification for security purposes.”

  Ivy snickered. “That’s all well and good, but shouldn’t she know who Mr. Marvelous is?”

  “Yes. Right.” Heather dipped into her purse and pulled out a piece of paper. “Here, Gwen. Check out his headshot and profile information.”

  The paper trembled in Gwen’s hands as she unfolded it and drew it near to read. Pictures. Profiles. What does the guy know about me? Her heart drummed hard in her chest. Heather’s questions…. God, my fantasy. She dreamt of being whisked away to a tropical island for an illicit affair with the love of her life, preferably a wealthy man who adored her and enjoyed treating her like a queen. Through him, she wouldn’t have to bust her ass working anymore. She could pursue her arts, become a philanthropist. But back home in Las Vegas, the rich people she had access to were customers when she worked the high roller rooms, and they were off limits, though some waitresses disregarded that rule. Aside from Heather, who spent most of her time in New York anyway, her inner and extended social circles didn’t have contact with the upper class. No chance of finding her dream guy there.

  What photo did Heather use for me? What had the man thought of it? She wasn’t a classic beauty, not ugly either, but there were definite flaw
s she hated seeing in print—eyes a bit too far apart for her taste, a face that rounded into chipmunk-like cheeks when she smiled. Her head reminded her of a bowling ball. Too hard on herself? Yes, definitely.

  The man in the two-by-three photo in the corner of the page…. That’s where all the beauty went when God handed it out. She crossed her legs and fought to keep from fanning herself. His gaze stared up at her. His intense, mesmerizing focus drew her in. Warm. Intelligent. Beautiful. She imagined his face in a moment of passion—blissful with hooded, bedroom eyes. Her body warmed. She captured a short breath.

  “Evan Cadell, huh?” Ivy stood and peeked over Gwen’s shoulder. “He’s a handsome fella. Gotta love those strong, chiseled features and thick brown hair. Imagine running your fingers through Evan’s locks and gripping them tight in a moment of passion. Great dark, blue-gray eyes, too. Lucky you.”

  Yeah, lucky me. “No, he’s not bad at all.” He’s hot. The apt word repeated in her mind, but she wasn’t about to voice that opinion. Her face heated from Ivy stating the same thoughts she’d been having about his hair. No doubt her cheeks were as pink as the shade cupping the bottom of the rose petals. Gwen tapped a finger on Evan’s photo. “Is he here yet?”

  Heather checked her watch. “Don’t think so. It’s not time. Soon though.” She rose. “Since he should arrive any minute now, we’re going to take off.”

  “You are?” Shocked, Gwen’s gaze snapped from Evan’s profile—Sagittarius, Civil War buff, favorite sport listed as curling—to her cousin.

  Seana stood, appearing just as surprised, and wrapped a protective arm around Gwen. “We’re just going to leave her to meet some stranger?”

  “Where’s your sense of adventure, ladies? This is Gwen’s date. She doesn’t need us.” Heather hiked her purse straps onto her shoulder with a tsk. “We’ll catch up with you tomorrow morning at our hotel, Gwen. Be good, but not too good. After all, this is about letting go and embracing your fantasy.”

  “Thanks,” she murmured, not sure if she was more excited or frightened about the impending blind date. She gulped and wished her family would stay, but they didn’t. The three of them walked away, blending into the crowd and disappearing from sight.

  Without their presence at the table, her skin tingled as if she were naked and exposed. I might as well be. Maybe soon will be….

  Gwen stroked the flower’s soft, satiny petals. Tramonto. Italian for sunset. The multi-colored rose represented their family name and unity. Wasn’t family supposed to have your back, stop a person from doing stupid things? She gazed down at the information sheet wondering what her cousin roped her into and decided her zinging nerves were not from fear, but excitement at what the night could hold.

  Chapter Two

  For the past half hour, Evan Cadell had kept an eye on the four women sitting on the other side of the beach pub. Every time a patron moved into his line of sight, he prayed the ladies wouldn’t disappear. Meeting a total stranger for a blind date far from home? A scary prospect. He wouldn’t have blamed her if a sudden case of cold feet set in, except he hoped for the opposite. Ever since he’d received Gwen’s profile and caught a glimpse of her earlier in the week at another restaurant, he’d been anticipating meeting her and seeing what could happen. Thank God she hadn’t seen him yet, though. Last thing he needed—to be called a stalker.

  Gwendolyn Tramonto, to his delight, was a pretty woman. Her eyes and smile were so much brighter in person than in her photo. Her body type—curvy and solid, especially in her arms and calves and a big change from the model, waif-types he normally dated and screwed—elicited lustful thoughts that surprised him. But then, he wasn’t the one who’d gone to Madame Eve. He could thank Uncle Lane for stating what kind of female he needed. At first, the intrusion into his life miffed him, but then again, he needed a change so he couldn’t be all that mad at Lane for setting up the rendezvous.

  Taking a draught of beer from his mug, he continued to observe his date who now held a beautiful, golden-pink rose. Perhaps his uncle and Eve were on to something. She appeared strong, fit, ready for whatever life would throw at her. Probably wouldn’t shed one tear if she cracked a nail. Her muscular legs would feel good wrapped around him as he sank into her hot core. He’d enjoy the sex but going to the gym with her, snorkeling, reef diving…if she had diving certification. If not, no big deal. He knew of plenty of activities on the island—biking, walking, shopping, attending functions….

  About to take another drink, he stopped the mug halfway between the bar and his mouth, shocked at the turn of his thoughts. Jumping the gun, aren’t we?

  He thought of her like she’d already become a permanent fixture in his life. She didn’t even live on the island, nor did they know each other. Did he expect she’d fall instantly and madly in love with him, move to a foreign country, and get a job? What tourist would want to uproot her life? A nice dream, but hardly reality. Plain foolish thinking on his part as his nanny would have said.

  Gwen. The match up. A distraction for a night. A short break from the drudgery of life. Uncle Lane wanted him to start a relationship. He only wanted a fling. That’s all he’d promised his uncle, who seemed gung ho to have him settle down. Weird idea coming from a man who hadn’t had a happy marriage. Evan’s habits of living alone and immersing himself in work were ingrained. He had thirty-five years of bachelorhood to his credit. If it weren’t for Lane, he’d still be at the office poring over figures. Not much else to do when you lived so far away from friends and family, and on an island.

  But Uncle Lane, a recent returnee to the dating pool, had decided all the single males in the family needed to dive in with him. He put Evan at the head of the matchmaking line. Lucky me. Shrugging, he downed the rest of his beer. The least I can do is make the best of it and show her a good time. Glancing down at Gwen’s profile, he focused on the main words of her fantasy—vacation, exotic location, handsome man, sensual rendezvous.

  Handsome? Check. At least he’d been told he had above-average features. Exotic location? Check. He had the perfect spot to take her. Erotic tryst? Though friends and family called him charming and women praised his skills, he hoped he could give her what she wanted and make her dreams come true.

  A resounding cheer between a few patrons playing dominos at the bar jerked Gwen’s attention away from the rose. Her gaze landed on an approaching man, each long stride self-assured, determined. She glanced at the information sheet then back at the live version of the picture on the profile. Evan. Her breath caught in her throat. Pictures didn’t do him justice. He had a confident swagger but not cocky. Gorgeous, as her sister had mentioned. His chin and cheeks were shadowed with dark stubble. Tan trousers covered his legs. A white dress shirt, the top four buttons undone, showed a smooth, hairless chest kissed by the sun to a light bronze. The clothing appeared to almost strain against his built frame. The same bronze-colored skin graced his arms where the dark hairs had been lightened to shiny gold.

  Evan stopped at the table, his intent fixed on her, and smiled, displaying beautiful teeth. The saint-like expression would make any momma proud, but a devilish, sexy gleam lit his eyes. Her sister’s maxim, he’s sex on a stick and I could just lap him up, flitted through her mind. Once again, she had to stop from raising a hand and fluttering it in front of her face.

  “Gwendolyn Tramonto?”

  His tenor voice, with the same touch of British accent as Seana’s, washed over her. She wanted to melt from the warmth of it. A sudden bout of shyness gripped her. She nodded then cleared her throat. “Yes, I’m Gwen.” She swept the lock of hair out of her face again. “I’m sorry. My cousin sprang this date on me just a little bit ago. I guess I’m still a bit stunned about it all. You must be Evan Cadell?”

  “The one and only.” He picked up her hand, brought it to his mouth, and brushed his lips over the backs of her fingers. His sexy gaze peered over her knuckles, connected with hers. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Gwendolyn.”

  So ple
asing to the eye. Suave. This might turn out to be a good night after all. And he still has hold of my hand. His thumb rubbed along the back of it. Lustful desire burst in her core, heating her insides, causing a flush to creep up her neck and into her cheeks.

  A slow, deep chuckle rumbled out of him. “Are you ready to get the evening started?”

  Moments later, they were walking down a sandy path along the roadway toward one of the beach resorts. The date would lead to intimacy, sex with a stranger. She should be more nervous, but she wasn’t. A carefree attitude surrounded Evan, which in turn, put her at ease. She took a deep breath of the fragrant air. A smile tipped her lips.

  “It’s beautiful on the island, isn’t it?” Evan returned her grin.

  “God, yes. I feel so much more relaxed and calm here. Quite a difference from the hustle and bustle of city life.”

  A gentle breeze rippled her peach-colored, cotton sundress. Her flip-flops flapped and scraped against the ground. Electric Tiki torches popped on one by one within the tropical foliage, illuminating paths to hotels and resorts.

  “It must be nice having this as your home.” Gwen gazed at his profile, his sexy, kissable lips. Anticipation of touching him curled in her stomach. Giddiness she hadn’t felt since her teenage years rushed through her. “Surrounded by water. Everything so colorful…the sky, the sea, the buildings…. If I lived here, I’d never want to leave.”

  Evan shrugged. A small grin creased his mouth. “Living here’s okay except for hurricane season.” He chuckled again. “So your profile states you work in the gaming industry in Las Vegas?”

  She laughed, thinking she’d have to have a talk with her cousin about how she stated things. That, or strangle her. “Well, that’s one way of putting it. My cousin, Heather, filled in the details for the profile.”