Chapter 3
Three
ANYA
The car purrs softly as Ryker drives us away from the hotel, the leather seat cool against my thighs where my uniform has ridden up.
His presence fills the vehicle, suffocating and intoxicating all at once, and I press myself against the passenger door, trying to create as much distance between us as possible.
Every few seconds, his eyes flick over to me, dark and hungry, making my stomach flip.
There’s something very different about him.
I don’t know what it is, but I know he’s not an ordinary man.
But what the hell am I doing? I’ve just willingly gotten into a car with a man I met ten minutes ago, claiming to be the boss of this resort.
A man who’s now taking me to his private home after practically forcing me to work for him, or I get booted off the island.
This is exactly the kind of scenario John warned me about.
John. Shit. I should text him.
My fingers twitch toward my pocket where my phone sits, but I hesitate. If Ryker is some kind of kidnapper, the last thing I want is for him to take my phone away. Better to wait until I’m alone to message John.
The silence stretches between us.
I shift in my seat, the fabric of my uniform making an embarrassingly loud sound against the expensive leather. Ryker’s jaw tightens at the noise, and I freeze, afraid I’ve somehow offended him.
“How long have you been working at Wolf Isle?” His deep voice startles me, rumbling through the car’s interior.
I swallow hard before answering. “This is actually my second day.”
“Second day?” His eyebrow arches, and he glances at me again, his gaze lingering longer than necessary on my face, then trailing down to where my uniform strains across my chest. “I assume you like it here?”
“I... yes. I guess so,” I say as heat floods my cheeks. The way he’s looking at me is… no one’s ever looked at me like that. Which is probably why I’m still a virgin. “Why do you feel like I’m a good fit to work for you?”
“You don’t sound thrilled,” he says with a chuckle, but there’s an edge to his words like he’s taking my opinion seriously.
“I’m just surprised,” I say carefully, not wanting to seem ungrateful but also not wanting to pretend this situation is normal. “Everything’s happening very fast.”
He makes a sound that’s almost a laugh, but it lacks humor. “I don’t waste time when I see something I want.”
What the fuck? I know he didn’t mean it in an innocent way. I take a few deep breaths to calm my racing heart. Maybe he didn’t mean anything by it, and I’m just reading into everything a little too much.
To distract myself, I turn my attention to the view outside the window.
We’re driving along a coastal road, the ocean a stunning azure that stretches to the horizon.
The hotel rises behind us, an elegant white structure that looks even more impressive from a distance, with its many balconies and terraces catching the sunlight.
Along the shoreline, charming straw-roofed huts dot the pristine beach, some with hammocks swaying gently between palm trees.
Guests lounge on plush chairs or stroll along the water’s edge, looking like they’ve stepped straight out of a luxury travel magazine.
“This island is beautiful,” I breathe, momentarily forgetting my anxiety as I take in the paradise surrounding us.
“I’m glad you like it,” he says, a note of pride in his voice.
“It’s... perfect.” I press my fingertips against the window, drinking in every detail. “Those beach huts…are those for guests too?”
“The overwater bungalows? Yes. They’re our most exclusive accommodations.”
I try to imagine what it would be like to stay in one of those bungalows, falling asleep to the sound of waves lapping beneath me, waking up to a vast expanse of blue. It seems like a different universe from John’s cramped apartment with its persistent smell of mildew and the neighbor’s cooking.
“Have you had a chance to explore much of the island yet?” Ryker asks, his tone softer now.
I shake my head. “No, they kept me pretty busy with training yesterday, and today I was just starting my shift when... well, when you found me.”
“I’ll have to give you a proper tour, then.”
My stomach flips at the thought of this powerful, rich man giving me a private tour of his domain as he gives me those lustful looks that I can’t miss.
I wonder what it would be like to walk along the beach with him barefoot, with the wind in my hair.
I can’t help but stare at the tattoos on his hands, leading up under his suit jacket.
He has short, roughly cropped black hair and appears to be around 7 feet tall.
I can’t tell, but this man is one hunk of a CEO, and I can’t help but be naturally nervous, unable to speak.
We turn off the main road onto a private drive that winds uphill through lush tropical foliage. The vegetation gradually parts to reveal a mansion.
My jaw drops as we approach.
The house is massive, a modern masterpiece of glass, stone, and wood that seems to emerge organically from the hillside.
Floor-to-ceiling windows reflect the sunlight, giving glimpses of spacious interiors.
Multiple terraces extend from different levels, and an infinity pool gleams at one side, appearing to spill directly into the ocean view beyond.
“Is this... where you live?” I ask, unable to keep the awe from my voice.
Ryker’s lips curve into a satisfied smile. “Yes. Home sweet home.”
He pulls into a circular driveway and stops the car in front of imposing wooden double doors. Before I can reach for the handle, he’s out of the car and striding around to my side. The door opens, and he extends his hand to help me out.
I stare at his offered hand for a moment, then place my fingers in his. His palm is warm and calloused, his grip firm but not painful as he helps me from the car. I try to step out gracefully, channeling every wealthy woman I’ve ever seen in movies, but my heel catches on the car’s threshold.
I pitch forward with an undignified squeak, bracing for impact with the pavement.
Instead, I collide with a wall of muscle.
Ryker’s arms wrap around me, steadying me against his chest. My hands instinctively flatten against his torso, and I can feel his heart beating rapidly beneath my palm.
“Careful,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my hair.
I look up, and time seems to stop. This close, I can see flecks of amber in his dark eyes, can count the stubble along his jawline. His scent envelops me. It’s not a regular cologne. He smells like coconut, and it’s alluring to me.
I don’t know how he’s emanating this strong scent, but it makes the flutter in my belly worse, and my pussy throb like hell.
“Sorry,” I whisper, unable to look away from his face. “I’m not usually so clumsy. Thanks for catching me.”
“I don’t mind,” he says roughly as his arms tighten a fraction around me. For a wild moment, I think he might kiss me, and even wilder—I think I want him to.
“Okay, thank goodness,” I say, letting out a breathy giggle.
A sound from inside the house breaks the spell. Ryker straightens, releasing me slowly, his hands lingering at my waist as if reluctant to let go.
“Let’s get you settled,” he says, his voice back to its commanding tone.
I follow him up the steps to the front door, my legs feeling strangely unsteady. What on earth was that? I’ve never reacted to anyone like that before. It must be stress or the effects of staying a virgin for too long.
A doorman opens the door, and I’m immediately impressed by the extravagance.
As I step inside, I gasp at the soaring ceilings and beautiful silver decor lining the walls. The giant windows show a stunning view of the glittering ocean beyond.
The decor is minimalist, but it obviously looks expensive to me.
“This is the living room. I’ll show you the room that you’ll stay in,” Ryker says, leading me up a silver-lined staircase as my heart pounds like crazy. All this doesn’t feel real to me.
We pass through a hallway lined with abstract art pieces that probably cost more than I’ll make in a lifetime, then stop at a door near the end. Ryker pushes it open and gestures for me to enter first.
The bedroom is larger than John’s entire apartment.
A king-sized bed with crisp white sheets sits against one wall, facing another of those incredible floor-to-ceiling windows that frame the ocean like a living painting.
A seating area with a plush sofa occupies one corner, while a desk and chair sit in another.
Two doors lead off the main room. One door leads to what looks like a walk-in closet, the other presumably to a bathroom.
“I’m staying here?” I ask, disbelieving as my voice comes out as a squeak.
“Is it acceptable?”
“It’s bigger than anywhere I’ve ever lived,” I admit, then immediately regret revealing so much about my circumstances. My face reddens, but he acts like he didn’t hear what I said.
“The bedroom is fully stocked, but if you need anything specific, just let me know. Your duties will begin tomorrow, so take the rest of today to settle in.”
“Thank you,” I say, setting my pathetic backpack on the bed, acutely aware of how out of place it looks in these luxurious surroundings.
“I’ll leave you to get comfortable.”
Once he’s gone, I collapse onto the bed, my mind whirling with the day’s events. This morning, I was a nobody sleeping on a friend’s couch. Now I’m in a mansion on a private island, working for a man who looks at me like I’m something he wants to devour.
I need to talk to John.
I pull out my phone, seeing no signal. Oh no. Opening up the Wi-Fi, I’m relieved to see I can connect without a password. And immediately call him over video.
It rings several times before his familiar face appears on screen.
“Thank fuck, you’re alive!” His relief is palpable. “I was starting to worry.”
“I’m fine,” I assure him, angling the phone to show off my surroundings. “More than fine, actually. Check this out.”