“Damn.” He gripped the counter.
He forced himself to tame the primal response. Locating a Calvin Klein shirt, he shoved his arms into the white oxford and fastened the buttons down his chest.
For now, he had to portray his presence on the island as a business venture. Independent of his personal plans.
Before his purchase went through, he’d bring Ellie to her knees. And afterward, he’d leave her stranded the way she’d left him. Desperate. Shaken. Bitter. Empty inside.
Five more days.
The seductive power of revenge filled him with determination. He tucked his shirt into his jeans, fastened his belt, grabbed his leather jacket off the back of a chair and set out to find the object of his discontent.
Chapter 2
Ellie spent the rest of that afternoon making beds, cleaning bathrooms and avoiding Carter Stratton. She threw her angst and sexual frustration over the encounter with Carter into making every room on the second floor spotless, and also to reimburse Matilda for the flowers she’d bought on Ellie’s behalf.
She was on her knees, scrubbing the bathroom floor in Suite 223, when the door swung open. She froze as her uncle stepped into the room—with Carter behind him.
Oh, no .
They stopped and stared at her. Her uncle, bewildered. Carter, amused, his eyes glued to her backside.
Blushing profusely, Ellie struggled to her feet, dusted off her yoga pants and ignored the quirk of Carter’s lips. He used to wear that expression when they were in a crowd, separated by necessity so her father wouldn’t find out about them, yet one of Carter’s sizzling looks told her how close they’d be once he got her alone.
Carter’s grin widened as he remarked, “Personal wakeup calls and stunning views.” He nudged her uncle, who coughed uncomfortably. “I like what you’ve done with the place. A guy could get used to this.”
Uncle Russert addressed her with a hard stare over his rimless glasses. “Eleanor, what are you doing?”
She stammered, “It’s...I’m—Matilda needed time off.”
“Hey, I’m not complaining,” Carter said, his gaze trailing up and down her body, taking stock of her disheveled state. Her hair thrown back in a careless ponytail, her breasts visible under a thin white t-shirt. Embarrassment flooded her when she realized her nipples were showing through her sports bra.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Is there something you need?”
“Do you really want my answer to that?” Carter murmured with sexual undertones.
Her uncle must not have heard him. “Eleanor, why do you do this to me? Every time I need to impress an investor, you find some way to embarrass me.”
“Hold on,” Carter interrupted. “It’s not a big deal.”
Russert whirled on him. “Wait in the hall, please. I need to have words with my niece.”
Carter hesitated, glanced at Ellie, then shrugged and walked out. Ellie wished Carter had stayed to play mediator between her and her condescending uncle. Once, Carter would’ve put himself between her and any threat. She braced herself for Russert’s temper.
When the door clicked shut, Russert’s face contorted with wrath. “Do you want to lose everything? Do you want your father’s dreams to rot in a foreclosed ruin because you couldn’t bother to make sacrifices?”
Ellie’s set her hands on her hips. “All I’ve made is sacrifices since you came to handle Daddy’s estate.”
“Use your head, Eleanor!” He loosened his tie, easing the blistering pressure that reddened his face. “Act like a woman who needs the mercy of a man with money. Not the princess my brother made you into.”
Although his words chafed her pride, she notched up her chin up. “You’ve lowered yourself to insults to make people do what you want?”
“It’s not me who refuses to leave this island.”
Ellie bit her tongue. He was right. Maybe there were other opportunities beyond the shore of this island, but she was too terrified to make that leap. Especially when both her parents had died while crossing its oceanic mote.
“You’re not living in a protected bubble anymore. You’re like anyone else about to lose her job, her home, and her last chance to walk away with a little cash to start over.”
She spread her arms to indicate the sparkling bathroom. “Why do you think I’m working so hard?”
Considering his glare, he believed she could do better than menial labor. “Then get used to scrubbing toilets.”
She stared in disbelief. “What do you want me to do? Prostitute myself to Arnoff Applestone?”
Russert pinned her with his icy black gaze, so unlike her father’s warm brown eyes. “I’m telling you to do whatever it takes.”