Aloha Affair

It was all fun and games until someone got hurt. That's what they say. Leslie was not really one to join in fun or games. There were reasons. Lots of them. All of them involve her parents' secrets on both sides.

Leslie took a sip of her third soda. Feeling light-headed and tired. No, exhausted. Her position next to Jason was cozy. Too bad he was engaged to another woman. A woman who didn't deserve him. And he was Leslie's boss.

The game of Truth or Dare, surrounded by laughter, friends, and warm firelight. A warm tropical breeze reminded her of times past. Of love and magic.

"Leslie." Maddy Rafferty called from across the brazier.

Too quickly, Leslie raised her head, making her dizzy. A warm, firm grip on her right shoulder steadied her. "W-what?"

Maddy gave her a curious look before repeating the question. Was she okay? Leslie considered that for a second, looking at Jason next to her. Was she? Considering there were two of him. No. She shook her head, making her lose her balance more in the seat.

Her mouth opened, but if sound and words came out, she didn't know. What was wrong with her? She was drinking her favorite cherry cola. Maybe it was overstimulation. It had been years since she had been in a social setting like this.

The hand around her arm pulled her gently to her feet as the two Jasons stood. "Go to bed, Leslie. I'll see you in the morning."

Only dimly was she aware of her nod. Taking a step, she almost fell. His hand around her arm kept her upright. She giggled then looked at him again. Brown with flecks of green near the iris, his eyes were beautiful, just like the rest of him. Tall and muscular, it was apparent he spent as much time in his home gym as he did at the office: a handsome face and thick blonde hair.

"Good night, Leslie." That voice could stop her heart and make her flush. Deep and raspy. Like velvet over her senses. No, the other woman didn't deserve him. But neither did she.

Leslie Brightly was a woman with too many skeletons to hold onto a relationship. Never having dated or even slept with a man—too many questions. To share a life completely, she would have to give.

The inside of the resort was darker. A few lights on to save on the energy bill. It offered an ambience that could be romantic if she weren't walking alone.

Unsteadily and slowly, she made her way to what she thought was the alcove for the elevator. Heavy footsteps followed her. She turned, thinking it might be Jason or Nate. A hand closed around her throat.

"Stupid bitch." The stern voice of Tom Wilcox brushed her ear as his mouth moved in hard kisses along her jaw to her lips. Cutting off the scream she had tried to utter. The hand around her throat was squeezing hard. Her hand fumbled for her purse. For the knife she carried. Hitting space at her thigh. Too late, she realized what had happened. She had left her wallet upstairs at Jason's insistence. She had done so with the thought that she would be safe.

A rough hand shoved up her shirt to fondle her breast through her bra. His mouth bruised her lips. His tongue was trying to find an entrance where she wasn't allowing. "Come on, let me in, baby. You know you want this."

Then he was gone. The hand holding her up was pulled away. Gasping, she slumped with her back to the wall. Pain shot up her spine when her tailbone connected with the hard floor. Her own hand went to her throat as her lungs fought for air.

"Fucking bastard." Jason snarled as he punched Tom in the stomach, then hit him again with an uppercut that knocked the other man out.

More heavy feet running up the marble lobby floor brought Leslie's eyes from Jason to Nate. "Fucking Christ." He started toward her, still slumped on the floor, but Jason moved faster.

The anger still in his eyes made her draw back from Jason's approach. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm sorry. Here." He crouched in front of her with a hand out. "It's me, Leslie. I won't hurt you." Hesitantly, she took his hand without looking at him. Her eyes went from the man sprawled on the cold floor to Nate. She had seen it, but wasn't sure it had really happened.

"Come, let's take a look at you in the light," Jason whispered, leading her to a restroom nearby. She had missed the alcove for the elevators. This one was a view of the white-sand beaches by the ocean.

Her movements weren't any steadier than before, but her head wasn't spinning as badly now. "Was he?" She asked in a whisper so soft she wasn't sure she had spoken.

"Yes, don't dwell on it. You are safe." In the restroom, he locked the outer door and lifted her easily onto the counter. Not really easy, since she was a six-foot-half-Scottish woman of about 160 pounds.

Gently, his fingers lifted her head so he could see her throat. "I'll go get Garth. That bastard shouldn't have put his hands on you."

"No. Please." Leslie replied, clutching the top of his wrist to stop him from leaving her. "No trouble. He's out cold. I need to sleep off whatever is wrong with me and forget this ever happened."

His eyes searched her face for a second. "You know him." It wasn't a question.

"Not the point." She replied with a shudder at the last meeting she'd had with the unconscious man. Heavy hands fell on her shoulders in a comforting gesture. Her hazy mind and body registered that he was between her legs. Her bottom rested on the counter. The perfect position for something terrible to happen. Or good.

"His reputation with assistants precedes him." Jason intoned.

Without a thought, truly, she leaned forward and took his mouth in a searing kiss. He tasted of brandy. Warm and intoxicating. The liquor burned her lips, but she didn't care. This would be her only opportunity—her first real kiss. What Tom had done in the alcove didn't count. She hadn't wanted it.

His hands on her shoulders tightened. Pulling her closer to him. Her arms did the same, encircling his neck. Her fingers were tangling in the hair at the back of his skull. As soft as it looked. Silky and thick.

This wasn't what he was expecting. But on the heels of a near assault, her reactions were probably not anything she was thinking about. She needed comfort, and he was the only one here to give it—the only one who should be giving it to her.

Her shuddering finally stopped, and a small moan escaped her. Signally the end. Gently, he broke the kiss. "Let's get you upstairs and in bed. How much did you drink?"

She shook her head with a soft smile. "I don't drink, Jason. I've had only soda."

That confused him for a second. Just soda. But her movements, her slurred words. "Fuck." His hands around her lower ribcage saw her down from the counter. "Who was getting your drinks?"

She considered the odd question. Shocked eyes met his. "Tom."

Staff on hand, and the man had been making her drinks. That meant he had intended to get her drunk. Or at least incapable of fighting him off. That sounded about right. Especially if the pair knew each other, if she had turned him down, Tom would be set on retribution. She wasn't safe. After tonight, Tom would pour everything he had into finding her to finish what he started. Alone, she was vulnerable.

"Marry me." His name would protect her. He really didn't want to marry his three-year fiancée. She was boring and annoying to him. But he had to be married. Why not this one? Nothing about her annoyed him or frustrated him. In fact, he hadn't had one hiccup in his life since she had started working for him over a year ago.

She giggled. "I think you are as intoxicated as I was." She took a step away from him to the door. Unsteady but not as bad as earlier. She was sobering. He was serious. Sober and serious.

"No. I can protect you. Tom won't let this go. Marry me for a year. Let me get him off your ass, and then you can live in peace." Jason responded quickly. "Here, tonight. I'm sure there is somewhere open that will do it."

She turned to look at the man she had wanted for over a year. Who had all the qualities she wanted in a partner. In a husband, if she were the marrying kind of woman. "Sure, Jason, if you can find someone who will marry us at midnight." She answered him sarcastically. There was no way he was serious. She was the ugly redhead that no one paid attention to. Even in college. Not that she was complaining. Alone was better. That way she didn't hurt anyone.