The Pleasure Of His Company

A taste of paradise

For two weeks each year, Kingsley Diallo puts aside his responsibilities as CEO of a multibillion-dollar company and heads to Aruba. It’s his chance to surf, unwind and enjoy the anonymity of just blending into a crowd. Then one day he sees Adah Palmer-Mitchell on the edge of the beach and wants to make a meaningful connection with her. Instinct tells him she’s keeping a secret, but the stunning island setting and Adah’s sensual beauty are an irresistible combination...

Disillusioned by romance, Adah agreed to an engagement to bolster her parents’ business interests. Suddenly that love-free arrangement is a sacrifice she’s not sure she can make. Handsome, charismatic and confident, Kingsley awakens her dormant desires, tantalizing her with the possibility of a passionate future. As their dangerous game of attraction escalates, can she choose between family loyalty...and the call of her heart?

“Hope you win...whatever it is you’re going after.” She gestured to the kites still in the air, the stage and the people watching the action from the beach.

“And still no gift of your beautiful name?”

She shook her head again, this time not hiding her smile. “My name doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree.” He paused, his gaze amused and thoughtful. “I have to call you something in my dreams.”

Adah rolled her eyes. Cute and corny. “Call me whatever you like.”

“I think I’ll call you Doe Eyes.” Then he grinned at her, apparently pleased with himself.

She shook her head a third time. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It’ll be even nicer to see you again,” Kingsley said. Before she could tell him the island wasn’t small enough for them to run into each other without agreeing to a time and place, his smile flashed again. “This won’t be the last time,” he said. The sand pulled at her sandals, and she stumbled, blushing as she righted herself under his amused regard. “Be careful until I see you again,” he said with another quick scan up and down her body.

Dear Reader,

Adah has always been a good girl. Good grades, attending a good college. She can even fake a good attitude about the long ago loss of her twin sister. But when she stumbles into Kingsley Diallo on a sunlit beach in Aruba, his glistening body and seductive smile make her want to be oh-so-bad.

With a fiancé waiting for her to set a wedding date and parental obligations looming, what’s a good girl gone bad to do?

Turn the pages, dear reader, and find out for yourself.

Lindsay Evans

The Pleasure of His Company

Lindsay Evans

www.millsandboon.co.uk

LINDSAY EVANS was born in Jamaica and currently lives and writes in Atlanta, Georgia, where she’s constantly on the hunt for inspiration, club in hand. She loves good food and romance and would happily travel to the ends of the earth for both. Find out more at www.lindsayevanswrites.com.

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Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Introduction

Dear Reader

Title Page

About the Author

Dedication

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

A beautiful man flying above the sea and into the sky wasn’t something Adah saw every day. From the beach, she drew a breath and felt her whole body flush as the man sailed across the bright blue water and even closer to her. Thin board shorts and a T-shirt clung to his hard body, the wet material of both outlining every ridge of muscle and plane of skin. He was absolutely gorgeous, and she wasn’t the only one looking.

“Damn, he is fine!” A woman down the beach said the words loudly enough to get chuckles of agreement from others nearby, pointing her camera up. Adah resisted the urge to reach for her phone to take a photo; instead she raised her hand above her eyes to shield her face from the Aruban sun burning brightly, even through her sunglasses.

They called it kite surfing. She knew that much from the signs on the event stage she’d seen on her walk from the hotel. And if the reaction of the audience was anything to go by, this gentleman was very good at it. Earlier she’d walked up in time to see him getting ready on the beach. He’d grabbed the edges of some sort of parachute, slipped his bare feet into slots on top of the board and then skated across the water, the bright-blue-and-white material of his parachute snapping in the breeze.

Fine was right.

Adah took off her sunglasses and watched him float across the water and just under the sky, turning somersaults while the audience cheered and called out what she assumed was his name. The announcer of the Hi-Winds Tournament shouted his praise as the man turned yet another flip and landed firmly on both feet on the deep blue sea. Then he was off, flying away from the shore and giving another kiter a turn in front of the rapt audience.

“Did you see that butt?” One of the bikini-clad girls near Adah said to her friend while they both giggled over their bottles of beer.

Her words made Adah blush and turn away from the water. She wasn’t much better than this girl, ogling the man just because she was looking for a source of distraction from her own problems. But that awareness didn’t stop her from sending one last lingering look across the water to where the man was making a loop in the sky and flying back toward the edge of the beach.

Although watching him made her feel vaguely uncomfortable in her own body, tingly and aware of long-ignored wants, it also felt good to be distracted from thoughts of the phone call she’d had with her mother earlier that morning.

“You have to make up your mind about this marriage, Adah,” her mother had said. “You’ve already said yes to this. Just make it official so we can start making concrete plans for the wedding. Let’s at least agree on a date.”

A date to join her life with another person’s to help save the family business.

Her mother made it sound so simple. Confirm the day for the arranged marriage she’d agreed to when she was a junior in college, depressed from a recent breakup and fixated on the idea that she’d never find a man to love her the way her father loved her mother. Back then she’d been convinced they didn’t make men like her father anymore—honest, romantic, ride or die. To her, males of the species were all boys and would mature only enough to treat a woman like another notch on their bedposts.

And now, at twenty-six, she was still single but less sure she was willing to give up any chance at passion and love to rescue the family business. That was what she should be willing to do. That was what her twin sister, Zoe, would probably have done. But what-ifs didn’t matter. Zoe was dead. It was Adah’s responsibility to step up.

Seawater rushed over her sandaled toes, and she hissed at the coolness of it. Without realizing it, she’d walked to the edge of the sand and into the waves. Adah skittered back, annoyed with herself for getting water on the expensive leather sandals that had been a gift from her best friend. She should have just worn her plastic Old Navy flip-flops.

Farther up the beach, the tournament continued. Adah was out of the way of the kiters assembling on the beach as their competitors helped them get into their complicated-looking gear. It was a beautiful display of cooperation and partnership.

“You going to walk into the water with your clothes on?”

She jerked her attention from the beach only to find herself immersed in seductive brown eyes. It was the man who had danced in the air above the waves. Up close he was a gorgeous thing. Tall and sun-browned, white teeth blazing in his handsome face, radiating as much heat as the sun overhead. He still wore his loose T-shirt and board shorts, both wet from his time in the water. Mirrored sunglasses hung from the neck of his shirt.

“Things aren’t that bad for me yet,” she managed past a tight throat. Why was he talking to her? Men this good-looking never went out of their way to engage her in conversation.

“That’s looking on the positive side.” He grinned again, then came close. “I’m Kingsley.”

His mouth was a firm curve, the top lip slightly smaller than the lower, both glistening with some sort of sunscreen or lip balm. Adah licked her own lips, which tasted like cherry Carmex, and imagined his tasted the same.

“Pleased to meet you.” She almost slapped herself on the forehead at the inanity of her reply. But she felt completely undone. Her heart beat quickly in her chest, and her tongue felt too heavy for her to speak.

“A mystery woman, then?”

She shook her head but didn’t correct him. Better he thought she was being mysterious and coy than an idiot who lost all her cool points just because a hot guy smiled at her. He shoved his hands in his pockets, seemingly unbothered.

“I saw you earlier,” he said, eyes moving quickly over her body in a way that was both appraising and appreciative. “I had to come by and say hello.”

“You saw me when you were in the air? You must have really good eyesight.”

“That’s not the only thing good about me,” he said. Then he laughed at his own bad joke. “I’m sorry,” he said as the last of his laughter faded. “I’m really not that corny.”

“Somehow I have my doubts.” But he still managed to charm her anyway. Adah felt herself responding to more than just his physical appeal. His eyes were warm with humor and his above-average height made her feel secure instead of intimidated. She could easily imagine cuddling into his big body after sex, her body humming with contentment as he stroked the length of her back in a soothing rhythm.

But there was something destructive in that. Something that made Adah’s stomach clench in warning. This wasn’t what she’d come to Aruba for.

As if he’d read her mind, Kingsley’s look became downright seductive. Heavy-lashed eyes and an intimate smile like the door opening to a softly lit bedroom.

“Would you like to have a drink with me sometime?” he asked.

Adah automatically shook her head although she desperately wanted to say yes.

I’m in a situation. The words from the old Erykah Badu song rang ridiculously in her ear. That was one way to put it. And that was even assuming he felt even a little of what was thrumming over her skin. Pure and undiluted attraction. Lust and the urge to smile back at him just to see those compelling brown eyes narrow even more from his grin, the corners crinkling in the simple pleasure of sharing space with someone attractive. She couldn’t remember the last time someone’s mere presence had made her want to stay in his company and enjoy the ease of his smile, the comfort of his body. Because it was undoubtedly desire. It coursed through her veins just from looking at him. His undivided attention felt like hands running over her bare skin.

“I can’t,” she finally said. Not I don’t want to.

And he seemed absolutely aware of the difference, judging from the way he looked at her, hungry and with the knowledge that the thing he wanted was within reach.

“I...uh... I have to go. Hope you win...whatever it is you’re going after.” She gestured to the kites still in the air, the stage and the people watching the action from the beach.

“And still no gift of your beautiful name?”

She shook her head again, this time not hiding her smile. “My name doesn’t matter.”

“I disagree.” He paused, his gaze amused and thoughtful. “I have to call you something in my dreams.”

Adah rolled her eyes. Cute and corny. “Call me whatever you like.”

“I think I’ll call you Doe Eyes.” Then he grinned at her, apparently pleased with himself.

She shook her head a third time. “It was nice to meet you.”

“It’ll be even nicer to see you again,” Kingsley said. Before she could tell him the island wasn’t small enough for them to run into each other without agreeing to a time and place, his smile flashed again. “This won’t be the last time,” he said. The sand pulled at her sandals, and she stumbled, blushing as she righted herself under his amused regard. “Be careful until I see you again,” he said with another quick scan up and down her body.

When he turned and walked away, she shamelessly watched him, the loose fit of the drying shirt over his muscled back and the shift of his butt in the long shorts. She bit her lip. There was joy in Kingsley. She thought about what sex would be like with him—undeniably hot, uninhibited—and knew there would be a spontaneous delight about the encounter, a pleasure at living and breathing and being able to gulp deeply from the cup of life. He was a man worth knowing. And touching.

“I know you’re looking,” he called over his shoulder without turning around. Laughter threaded through his voice. The sound of it should have made Adah blush and look away like a thief caught with her hands in the cookie jar, but she only grinned and kept looking until she could no longer make out the finer details of his physique.

She was still smiling when she walked across the sand and through the beachfront entrance of her hotel. The lavish hotel, though stretching the limits of her budget, was one she was glad to have found. Her room overlooked the water, the entire reason for her visit to an island in the Caribbean.

“Welcome back, Ms. Palmer-Mitchell.” The woman at the front desk spared a smile for Adah as she looked up from her computer screen.

“Thank you.”

“There’s a visitor here for you. She’s already in her own room, which she requested next to yours.”

Adah stopped. “A visitor?” A bad feeling made her footsteps stutter. The leftover warmth from the encounter with Kingsley leached from her. She shivered.

“Yes. She arrived about thirty minutes ago.”

Adah had been walking the island for nearly two hours, trying to clear her mind and find a solution to the unsettled feeling that had yanked her out of her sleep nearly every night for the past six months. She was desperate for a good night’s sleep.

Adah pressed her lips closed and sucked them between her teeth. “All right, thank you so much for letting me know.”

After wishing the woman a good morning, she crossed the tiled lobby, each step feeling heavier than the last as she imagined who was waiting for her upstairs. She knew only one person with the means and motive to come to Aruba and turn her peace upside down. When the elevator doors slid open on her floor, there was someone waiting to get on it. The woman, elegant in white linen with her iron-gray hair on top of her head in a simple French twist, smiled at her in equal parts relief and triumph. Adah released a quiet breath.

“Hello, Mother.”

Chapter 2

“Surprise, darling!” Thandie Palmer-Mitchell rebounded beautifully from the surprise of seeing Adah in the elevator.

Adah wished she could say the same for herself. Her suspicion had turned into grim certainty when the elevator doors opened on her floor. She felt scattered to the four winds at the sight of her mother, gorgeously styled and smiling in the last place Adah wanted her to be.

“Are you heading down?”

“Not anymore, now that you’re here,” her mother said.

Of course not. What she hoped was a smile spasmed across Adah’s face. “Okay. My room or yours?”

“Yours, of course. You must want to shower and get cleaned up after being out there in the heat.” Her mother fanned her face with her slender clutch purse as she stepped back to let Adah off the elevator. “After ten minutes out there, it felt like my skin was covered with sand and sweat.”

She fell in step with Adah down the wide and well-lit hallway toward the small room Adah had booked. Adah cringed, suddenly remembering her mess. Although she’d been in Aruba for only a day, most of the contents of her suitcase were already spread all over the room, a tendency toward untidiness she carried over from how she treated her space at home. The common areas were orderly and almost obsessively neat, but her bedroom and bathroom were booby-trapped with piles of clothes, books and makeup in danger of falling over.

She wasn’t dirty, Adah often reassured herself, just disorganized. Her habit of just stuffing her rolled travel clothes into her suitcase in no discernible pattern meant she often had to dig to the bottom of her luggage to find the exact thing she needed. Then after all that searching, who wanted to repack everything? There was just no point.

Her mother was the complete opposite. She used packing cubes, elegant and expensive, that she carefully arranged before each trip. Underwear in one cube, dresses in another and so on. Then she just slipped the prepacked cubes into the drawers of whatever hotel she checked into. Adah envied her mother’s ability to easily and neatly transition from place to place. But Adah had never made any effort to take on those qualities for herself.

Biting the proverbial bullet, she slid the keycard in and opened her door. “Come on in.”

Inside was the same disorder she’d left. Clothes all over the bed and the chair near the window. Her suitcase gaped open on the dresser with her other bathing suit and underwear spilling out. She grabbed clothes from the chair and tossed them on top of the suitcase.

“Sit.” She scrubbed a hand self-consciously over her windblown hair. “I’m going to have a quick shower—just make yourself comfortable.”

“Don’t be silly. It’s okay, darling.”

But Adah hadn’t forgotten her mother’s earlier comment about her getting cleaned up. “It won’t take me long. Sit and play some music on your iPad or something.”

Then she seized the nearest item of clothing on the suitcase and rushed to the bathroom. Barely fifteen minutes later, she walked out, running a brush over her hair, her body freshly lotioned and wearing the fitted floral sundress her best friend had insisted she bring to Aruba.

“Inject some sexy in your life, Adah,” Selene had told her as she pressed a large department store bag full of dresses and underwear she’d gotten nearly free in her job as a fashion buyer.

Adah felt like a fraud in the garment, effortlessly pretty in a way she couldn’t pull off in her everyday life. It felt like she was playing dress up, or at least trying to be like her mother. But she swept those thoughts away. Refreshed from her rushed shower, she twisted her straightened hair into a quick topknot.

“What brings you here, Mother?”

“My only daughter, of course.” Her mother had truly made herself comfortable, streaming a Luther Vandross song from the small iPad on her lap. She shut it down by closing the cover and set it aside. “I didn’t want you to feel all alone in this strange new place by yourself,” she continued.

“I’m not alone, Mother. There are thousands of tourists on the island this time of year, not to mention all the people who live here.”

“You know what I mean. You’re always going someplace by yourself. I think you’d be tired of that sort of solitary existence by now.”

Her mother had grown up in a boisterous home as one of six children and often voiced regrets she hadn’t had another child after Zoe died.

“With Zoe gone, I’m an only child, Mother. I’m used to being alone. Most times I prefer it.” Like now.

“Nonsense.” Her mother made a dismissive motion. “Nobody really likes being alone. But I can only be with you for a little while. There’s some business back home in Atlanta I need to tend to.” The business that had shaped the course of all their lives since it started. “I came to treat you to something nice for your birthday. I know your father and I were so busy last month we didn’t get a chance to celebrate with you properly.”

Weeks before they’d done the annual dinner at Adah’s favorite restaurant but hadn’t had time for the separate weekend trip to Saint Simons Island that was also part of the birthday tradition.

“It’s okay. I know with the company being in trouble, you and Daddy don’t have as much time as usual.”

“That’s no excuse, darling. And that’s the reason why I’m here!” Her mother looked excited about whatever she was about to reveal. “I moved you to one of the rooms on the top floor and reserved a half day’s pampering session in the most beautiful spa. The masseuses there are award winning—although I didn’t know massage was something you could get awards for.” Her mother frowned like she was giving serious thought to her last remark.

“Mother, you really didn’t have to.” Adah had come to Aruba by herself to think. The key part of that being by herself.

“I know. But I want to.” Her mother leaned forward with an even bigger smile. “Our appointments are tomorrow morning. They’ll pick us up from here at ten. And while we’re gone, they’ll move your things up to the new room.”

And that was that.

Adah immediately knew her mother’s ploy for what it was. And she was half surprised at its transparency. A bribe to get the wedding show on the road and pull the family business out of the fire in which it had found itself despite her parents’ brilliance and the relative success of its line of natural hair care products. Still, she allowed it all to happen, the ever-present guilt pricking her into saying yes to whatever it was her mother wanted.

Her twin, Zoe, had died when they were just eleven years old. A car accident on the way home from a young entrepreneurs’ summer camp. It was beyond awful that her sister, her best friend, had died. Adah had forced Zoe to sit on the passenger side of the car’s back seat just because she’d wanted to sit behind the driver for a reason she couldn’t even remember now. The guilt about that still tore her apart. Even at eleven years old, Zoe had been the one eager to take over the family business and make it even better. All Adah had wanted was a job where she could be surrounded by children and hear their laughter all day.

In the end, as co-owner of an exclusive day care complex in North Atlanta catering to some of the city’s wealthiest residents, Adah had gotten the job she’d wanted. Zoe had gotten nothing but death.

* * *

The next morning, after a restless night spent with her mother on the other side of the wall in an adjoining room, Adah woke and pulled on the same sundress from the afternoon before and the leather sandals. The car that came to get them smelled of the spa, something vaguely citrusy and clean, making her feel as if she were already resting on a masseuse’s table and waiting to be transported to boneless relaxation. But she knew peace wouldn’t come. Her mother had something to say, and she would state it when she thought Adah was most vulnerable—while she was getting her massage.