Disclaimer: SM owns Twilight

Ch2:Flat & Bitter Champagne

Leah finished tying the halter dress around her neck and walked over to the ringing phone. It would either be the front desk, announcing the arrival of her guest for the evening, or Rosalie, calling in a panic as she waited for her guest. Her friend had already called Leah from her private suite down the hall four times, threatening to bail on plans for spending the evening—or night—with a paid escort.

"If you don't like him, tell him to leave," Leah had said matter of factly the last time Rosalie had called. "That's the whole idea, Rose—no hassles. You're paying for the service. You're in charge babe. He's paid—and paid well," she added with dour amusement, "to do whatever you want. That includes leaving the second you say the word."

It may sound greedy, but it was true, Leah thought presently as she picked up the phone and gave permission for her guest to be allowed to come to her suite. She'd existed in the publicity for years now. She'd been tainted by too many experiences with men who were more interested in attaching themselves to her in order to leech off the benefits of her talent, money, or both.

She'd learned to spot the type with amazing rapidity, given the experience of her childhood. There were plenty of individuals around who were programmed to take advantage…to use. It didn't matter if they vampirized man, woman, or child, as long as it brought 'em an ounce of self-respect and the unholy buck.

Leah fastened an earring as she checked the table room service lain out while she was in the shower. Everything looked as it should—the champagne, the food she'd chosen either on heated platters or, in the case of the shrimp and caviar, chilled in bowls surrounded by ice. She made a point of treating her guests well, and was only minimally disappointed if she wasn't attracted to them and politely ended the evening early. She appreciated the chance to meet a male in a controlled environment and fulfill her sexual needs if the opportunity was ripe.

Leah also was grateful for the fact that unlike many women—women who might have to do something they ended up regretting to satisfy their normal sexual desires—she had the money to pay for her needs. It wasn't a gift she took lightly.

When the knock came at the door, she glanced in the mirror quickly to check her appearance. Once again, she never short changed her guests. They had a right to find her as attractive as she was capable of being. It wasn't a one way street, after all. She slid her feet into a pair of high heeled sandals.

"Just a moment! I'll be right with you," she called as she fastened the strappy sandals around her ankles. She opened the door a moment later.

Her inviting smile melted. "What the fuck are you doing here?"

"It's nice to see you again, too," Embry Call returned with a flashing grin.

She didn't have time to respond to his unexpected presence before he stepped into the hall, forcing her back a few steps. He closed the door.

Leah gather herself and straightened her spine. It would have been nice if he didn't still tower over her. She was five foot eight, and when she put on a pair of heels, it was common for her look straight into a man's eyes.

Or look down at him.

Not so with Embry Call.

"I asked you a question."

His smiled widened. Despite her fury, something rippled in her lower belly—and it wasn't disgust. He had a smile that could almost literally bring a woman to her knees. The fact that he used that weapon with freedom infuriated her. Leah was all too familiar with men who could charm as easily as breathe.

"You're surprised that I'm your escort for the evening?"

She gave him a disbelieving look and snorted in contempt.

"I'll take that as a yes," he said softly. His electric smile faded for few seconds as he examined her with a smoky stare. His gaze seemed to mark her as it traveled down her body.

He moved past her abruptly and walked into the suite. Leah followed him, her mouth still hanging open in shock that Embry Call was here. Just because he'd invaded her thoughts and her dreams didn't mean he had the right to barge into her real life.

He turned after inspecting the vivid pinks and oranges splashed across the sky. The view of the two mile long stretch of beach with Diamond Head to the left and the sun setting over the mountains to the right was breathtaking from her suite at the Moana Surfrider Hotel, but her focus was entirely on Embry. She took in his appearance for the first time, realizing the sight of him was more awe inspiring than the Waikiki summer.

He wore a pair of black pants and a white dress shirt, open at the collar. His black jacket was perfectly tailored and highlighted his broad shoulders. He wore his black hair longer in the front, but in the back it was neatly trimmed just above the collar of his shirt. The style perfectly set off his starkly masculine face. He held a paper sack. Her gaze lingered on his tanned, large hand gripping the package. He had great hands. Granted, everything about his body was amazing, but Leah had caught herself staring at his masculine, capable looking hands frequently during her surf lesson.

Now she imagined what those hands would look like on her body—what they'd feel like.

"There's been a mistake," she said breathlessly. "I was expecting someone else."

"You weren't expecting someone from Hawaiian Nights escort service?" he said arrogantly.

She went still. Her heartbeat began to drum in her ears in the silence that ensued.

He slowly came toward her. "What's the matter Leah? I assure you that I'm capable of filling the requirements for the job."

She shivered at the impact of his low, raspy voice. "You work for Hawaiian Nights?"

He gave her a bland look and shrugged at what he must consider a statement of the obvious. "Why is that so hard to believe?"

Leah couldn't think of how to respond. He was certainly handsome enough for the job. He was more than sexy enough. In fact, he was too attractive. The effect he had on her made her uneasy.

"Did you know it was me you were meeting?" she asked.

"Sure."

She shook her head incredulously. "And knowing that, you actually agreed to come?" her gaze lowered to his slow grin. His smile—that flash of white teeth against bronzed skin—really ought to be outlawed for its mind altering effects. Okay… it was definitely best not to think of what it did to her body. When he didn't speak, just continued to stare at her with a small, insolent grin on his firm lips, she prodded, "We took an instant dislike to each other. Maybe you didn't notice?"

"Bit hard not to notice a blizzard like yourself in Waikiki. The way I recall it, you took an instant dislike to me." He pointed to himself with his thumb.

"Didn't like the experience much, did you? Well there's a first time for everything." Leah quipped.

He didn't appear overly intimidated by her sarcastic remark. As a matter of fact, he seemed so damn comfortable, Leah suddenly felt as if she were the intruder in his space. Like the whole damn island was his, and she had just had the audacity to place a toe on his sandy beach.

Which there was a tad of truth to, she had to admit. This island paradise would never be her home, whereas Embry Call embodied it.

Those singular dark gray eyes flecked with gold lowered over her deliberately, lingering on the swells of her breasts in the V of the neckline—checking out the bounty that had just washed up on his sovereign shore. She wasn't wearing a bra. She gritted her teeth when she felt her nipples tighten against the smooth, cool, fabric of the dress.

"We may not like talking to each other much, but you didn't call Hawaiian Nights for a chat buddy did you?" he said softly but surely.

Leah stiffened. "I called for a fuck buddy. Is that what you're thinking Mr. Call?"

He surprised her by chuckling softly, the sound reminding her of something between a purr and a soft growl. His big male body looked entirely relaxed, making her hyperaware of her own anxious tension. "Shit, you're a piece of work. Do you ever let up Clearwater?"

She considered him with an icy stare. The humor vanished from his face. Because of the flecks in his gray eyes, his gaze usually reminded her of hot smoke, but Leah learned at that moment they could also go hard and cold. Her tension mounted. Okay, so he was much more than just the big, sinuous wolf lazing around in the sun that she'd compared him to in her mind.

"All right. If that's the way you want to play it, fine. I might think you're a mean cold bitch, but that doesn't mean I wouldn't love to have you under me, in front of me… on your knees." He closed the distance between them.

Leah stared up at him warily when he leaned down over her, close enough for her to inhale his spicy cologne and natural rich male scent. Warm fluid flooded her panties. Just like that—in an instant—her body had readied itself for him. The strength of her response stunned her.

Scared her which in turn pissed her off.

"I've thought about all those positions, and a dozen others equally interesting ones, since yesterday," he rasped, his face just inches from her own. "So if you're asking me if I think you called Hawaiian Nights for a fuck buddy, I think the answer is yeah. But I don't want to be your 'buddy,' Leah. I don't want to be patronized by your champagne and your caviar and your small talk. I just want to fuck you, on my terms."

"Go to hell." She glared at him.

"Uh-uh." He shook his head. "You're going to take me to paradise. And if you can manage to keep your mean pretty little mouth shut, I'll take you right along with me." His warm sweet-smelling breath fanned her lips. Despite the chaos of her thoughts, her body ruled her at that moment. She strained toward him.

He seized her mouth in a hard kiss. His male essence flooded her awareness, leaving room for nothing but a hot, erupting desire. She clutched onto his shoulders then desperately sank her hand into his hair, holding on for dear life as a tsunami of lust pounded through her. He penetrated her lips and made free with her mouth. She found herself striking out hungrily with her own tongue, ravenous for more of his flavor.

She was so overwhelmed with the power of his kiss she didn't realize he had untied the halter of her dress until he lowered the material to her waist. He sealed their lips. She trembled. The man's kiss could more accurately be called an attack. That's how it seemed to her jangled nerves and screaming senses.

He stepped back to inspect her, his nostrils flared. Her nipples puckered in acute anticipation of pleasure. He surprised her by reaching into the paper bag he still clutched, his deep gaze never leaving her breasts.

"I brought this for you," he said gruffly.

Her eyes widened when he withdrew a white lei. The velvety, cool petals tickled the hypersensitive skin of her breasts when he put it around her neck. He lifted her loose hair over the flowers and took his time releasing it, letting the strands run through his fingers. His other hand adjusted the flowers and paused near an aching nipple.

He seemed to be holding his breath. She knew she was.

She gave a small whimper when he touched the beading flesh with a calloused thumb and forefinger.

"It's made of orchids," he said in a low rumble as he watched himself pinch lightly at her nipple then sooth it was caress. "My gran grows her own carnations, orchids, and plumeria and makes them into 'flower jewelry.' She loves her flowers. She says they're the one accessory a woman should wear because they will remind her that she herself is a beautiful bloom." He glanced up and met her stare. The hand at the back of her neck shifted. A long finger slipped beneath cool petals. "She always uses plumeria at the neck, even on her orchid leis." Leah inhaled the sweet, familiar fragrance of the flower traditionally used for leis. "The scent is released at the warmth of your neck. Perfumed jewelry, Grandma Emma says."

He reached around Leah's waist and unzipped her dress. At his urging, the fabric slipped off her hips and fell in a soft heap around her ankles. Her silk panties followed. She stood before him, wearing nothing but her sandals and flowers.

Her throat had gone dry. Her confusion—the paradox of anger, anxiety, curiosity, and desire—seemed to paralyze her muscles.

"It's beautiful, thank you," she finally said.

His lips tilted. He seemed genuinely pleased by her compliment. He probably hadn't known she was capable of saying something nice. But it was only the truth. The gift of the white orchid lei struck her as perfect…simple, sensual, and astonishingly lovely.

In truth, his offering had disarmed her.

"You're the beautiful one, 'Aileah." He leaned in closer. "Now… I'd like to watch while you bloom for me."

She stiffened warily when he spread his big hand over her hip, fixing her in place while he burrowed the ridge of his forefinger between her shaved labia. He grunted in masculine appreciation when he felt how damp she was. Despite her surprise at his boldness, it felt delicious to have him slide along her clit, creating a sizzling friction that made her press tighter against his hand. She tried to kiss him, but he straightened and moved his face back. He watched her closely while he penetrated her slit with his middle finger, still rubbing and agitating her clit.

"So smooth and wet. I knew you would have a sweet little pussy."

"Embry," she muttered thickly while he played with her to perfection. She put her hands on his shoulders and tried to pull him down to her… tried to gain some measure of control over the situation. But he refused to kiss her. It made her feel vulnerable and uncomfortable, but also incredibly aroused to know that he wanted to stare at her while she climaxed. A complete stranger. The fact that he was entirely dressed while she was naked also added to her strange combination of distress and arousal.

She moaned and ground against his hand. The friction was optimal… perfect. She tried once again to avoid his intense stare. This time she unbuttoned his shirt and shoved a hand over warm sleek muscle.

"No," he said softly, firmly.

He spun her around. She cried out in protest at the absence of his gifted strumming fingers on her pussy. Her eyes widened when she saw he'd turned her to face a mirror that hung over a credenza. He pushed her toward it, pressing his long, hard body to her backside. He nuzzled her neck with his nose, his eyes on her in the mirror.

"Look at you," he whispered hoarsely. "You're blooming right before my eyes."

She struggled feebly in protest. She didn't want to look at herself while Embry Call pleasured her. The image she saw in the mirror was incredibly erotic—his dark, big hands stroking her hips and belly, her brown nipples trembling delicately next to the exquisite white flowers. But it also made panic rise in her for some reason. She felt too exposed… too vulnerable.

She needed to get back to her place of control.

He held her hips in place when she tried to turn around to face him. She gasped when he bent his knees and pressed his erection against her. Instinctively she ground back against him. He sawed his hips against her, stimulating himself and her at once. His low growl made her reach around, trying to get her hands on the cock she'd been thinking and dreaming about for days—despite her better judgment.

He moved quickly, grabbing her wrists and pinning them next to her abdomen. He held her with one hand, easily restraining her. She glanced at him in the mirror only to see his magnetic eyes were already on her.

"Let me go," she said, her mounting sense of helplessness making her sound angrier than she was. Mostly she was just spinning, knocked off balance by the knowledge of her desire.

"Maybe, after I watch you come a time or two."

She saw that her pulse leapt wildly at her throat. Her eyes dropped to his lowering hand. She bit her bottom lip, stifling a groan when he slid a finger next to her burning, erect clit. He had ample lubrication to work with, she realized with a trace of humiliation. The reaction he evoked in her wasn't a safe, healthy sexual hunger.

She was soaked. Ravenous to the point of foolishness. Which would eventually lead to regret, she knew.

He stroked her, and her anxieties turned to mist in the sultry air. She cried out when he once again penetrated her with his middle finger. His hand and fingers moved in a concentrated synchronous movement that caused heat to flood her cheeks and her juices to flow more abundantly around his fingers.

He watched her in the mirror as she went rigid with pleasure. Panic boiled in her belly at her stark vulnerability, but the desire pounding through her was stronger. She gritted her teeth together and closed her eyes a moment later, shutting him out in the only way she could as an orgasm crashed though her. Because she partially struggled against it, her climax had a sharp, almost painful quality against it. He tightened his hold on her wrists, pushing her back into his long, hard body. His hand became more demanding. A shout tore out of her throat.

He wasn't going to let her give anything less than her all.

"That was so pretty, I think I'd like to see it again," she heard him say a minute later as she sagged against him with her head forward, her hair falling into her eyes.

"No," she whispered. She felt strange—like she'd been turned inside out. It shamed her to reflect on how she'd submitted to his demands to control the pace of their lovemaking.

"Yes." he whispered his lips against his ear.

She inhaled sharply when she felt his calloused fingertips caress the underside of her left breast.

"You're softer than the flower petals."

She moaned when he cradled her from below. Without looking up she knew he studied the image of her breast in his hand.

"Look up, 'Aileah."

"Stop calling me that."

I call you that because it's your name. Isn't it," he stated more than asked. He squeezed her breast softly, molding her flesh in his warm palm. "Now, look at me touching you. Would you rather I stop?"

She looked up slowly. She didn't want him to stop, and he knew that, the bastard. His gaze lanced right through her. Against her will, she pushed back with her hips, pressing her ass against his firm erection. His facial muscles tightened at her caress.

"You really want to be in the driver's seat don't you?" he asked huskily.

She just stared at him while he fondled her breast, too aroused to find words.

"But we're playing by my rules, 'Aileah."

"Not if you want to get paid in full, we're not." She finally found her voice.

He grinned. "We'll see about that. I'm going to release your wrists now. But I want you to move your hands to the back of your head. Keep your elbows wide."

"Forget it mister."

"Oh, I'm not going to forget it. The vision of you granting me permission to play with your beautiful body will likely be etched in my memory until I die." He released her wrists. "Hands up."

He was entirely unmoved by her defiant stare.

"Put your hands on your head, 'Aileah."

The drum of her heartbeat escalated to a roar. She held his gaze and slowly raised her hands to her head. It was like someone else was doing it instead of her. She felt so strange, like she was both detached from herself and at the same time, more aware of her body that she'd ever been.

More alive than she'd ever been.

"That a girl." He praised in a low voice. His other hand rose. For an excruciatingly arousing minute or two, they both watched in the mirror as he fondled her breasts and tweaked her nipples until they were stiff and aching. Leah felt trapped… deliciously held hostage by her own desire.

He held up her breasts from below, squeezing them lightly in his big hands, making the nipples poke out lewdly between his fingers. Leah held her breath and quietly whimpered.

"Shhh," he soothed when he heard her sound of desperation. "Do you need to come again, baby?"

Air popped out of her lungs.

He released one breast and fingered the lei. He brushed the velvety petals over the nipple of her breast he still held in his palms in a deliberate yet lazy fashion. "Go ahead. Say it."

Leah trembled as she watched him caress her nipple with the flower. Her need felt so raw it hurt. "I want… I want to come again."

She felt his cock leap against her bottom. Had admitting her desire really turned him on that much?

"Course you do," he murmured warmly. He pushed her hair back and pressed a hot kiss to the side of her neck, just above the fragrant plumeria. He raised his hand to her right wrist and forced it down to her pussy.

"Spread the lips wide."

Her arm jerked reflexively in his hold. She met his hot, steamy stare in the mirror. Not that she required further evidence of his arousal. His cock throbbed next to her ass, the sensation tempting her. The heat penetrating the fabric of his pants and resonating into her flesh was driving her crazy.

Slowly, she separated the lips of her shaved, slicked labia. Her heartbeat slammed in her ears as she watched his rigid expression while he stared at her exposed outer sex for several tense seconds. She kept her eyes fixed on his handsome face feeling too vulnerable to look at what was undoubtedly a flagrant display of her uncontrolled desire.

"Thank you for showing me how lovely you are. Let go now," he said gruffly. Leah didn't resist when he grabbed her wrist and placed her hand on the back of her head, once again. She was too eager for him to touch her… for him to make her forget herself once again. She tried to still her panting when he lightly pinched her labia together just beneath her burning clit. Then he slid his forefinger down into the fleshy pocket he'd made and stirred.

Leah cried out at the sharp pleasure. She clamped her jaw together, both shamed and aroused by the moist clicking sounds caused by his agitating finger on her wet tissues. She shut her eyes tightly as orgasm loomed.

He paused in his wicked stirring of her clit. "Open your eyes, look at me touching you."

She groaned as her head fell back on his shoulder. Her eyelids remained sealed shut.

"Leah." The hoarse, one word plea caused her to open her eyes warily.

He snagged her gaze and glanced downward, magically forcing her stare to follow his.

He moved his finger, agitating her clit. Leah's knees buckled as another orgasm shook her. She was hardly conscious of him using one hand around her waist to steady her as pleasure shuddered through her flesh in powerful waves. She distantly was aware of the fact that he pushed her upper body down.

"Put your hands on the table."

She reached out blindly, her body still shuddering in climax. Her awareness zipped into full focus, however, when she felt his hand move behind her. She heard a paper ripping and realized he was putting on a condom.

Then he was pressing the thick head of his penis to her slit.

"Ahh,"she moaned tensely. He pushed. Her vagina stretched—and strained—to accept him. But she was so hungry, and slowly her need encouraged her body to accommodate his gentle but insistent thrusts.

Her entire body shook by the time he'd fully sheathed his cock in her. She felt so full.. so hot. His hand caressed her hip, her waist, and the side of a suspended breast. His fingers rose to the nape of her neck, where he tugged on a handful of hair.

She met his gaze in the mirror. He began to fuck her, deep and thorough. Her mouth hung open in shock at the cyclone of sensation that barraged her consciousness. He held her with one hand at the shoulder, the other at her hip. He made free with her, slamming their flesh together, creating a nearly unbearable friction. She realized through a thick haze of lust that despite his earlier action, he was intent on his own pleasure at the moment.

Selfish even.

He wasn't going to wait for her.

For some reason, the realization satisfied her. Aroused her. She pushed back with her hands on the table and matched his hard ruthless rhythm with her hips. His pleasure became her sole focus. She saw his snarl in the mirror, gloried in his savage grunts as their bodies crashed together stormily. He suddenly put both his hands on her shoulders, raising her until she stood before him. He bent his knees and fucked her in their upright position, fixedly watching her breasts in the mirror as he bounced the firm flesh again and again with his driving cock.

Leah cried out in mixed misery and bliss when he pushed her down hard on his full length and began to throb in release. He grunted gutturally. His spasming penis felt so good deep inside her. It pleased her to know she'd given him satisfaction, but her own need still festered like a raw open wound.

He leaned over her, forcing her to bend at the waist. Her hands went out to catch them, supporting the majority of their upper body weight on the table. He pressed his face against her back. Her pussy clenched around him. He groaned and she wondered if he'd felt her unintentional caress. His breath struck her skin in erratic bursts of warm air.

It felt nice. Too nice.

When she tried to rise he straightened. The feeling of his softened but still ample penis sliding out of her made her grit her teeth in a mixture of anguish and rising discomfort.

Thankfully, he said nothing as she walked away. She closed the bathroom door, took one look at the stranger in the mirror and then meticulously avoided the sight. She carefully removed the lei and set it on the marble vanity.

It was difficult to meet his eyes when she returned a minute later wearing a lavender satin robe, but it wasn't as hard as it might have been had she not taken the time to collect herself. She noticed he'd refastened his pants.

"Would you like something to eat?"

He looked irritated.

"Just a second," he muttered before he went to the bathroom. Leah realized he was disposing of the condom. When he returned a moment later, she was sipping a glass of champagne, staring at the star encrusted midnight blue sky, trying to let the crashing waves on the beach calm her.

Instead, the pounding surf reminded her of Embry slamming into her body in a relentless, driving rhythm.

She handed him a filled flute when he approached her, but he refused to take it. "I told you. I don't want your champagne."

"I'm not patronizing you Embry," Leah said referring to his earlier statement.

"You could have fooled me."

She inhaled slowly and set down both champagne flutes.

Through the reflection in the sliding glass door the terrace, she saw him scrape his hair back with his fingers in a gesture of frustration. "Look I'm sorry I know was greedy there at the end. I was… excited. Extremely so."

"You have nothing to apologize for." She said softly.

"That what's with the ice queen routine?" he demanded with a burst of irritation.

She turned around to face him. "If you don't want anything to eat or drink. I'm not sure there's anything left to say or do."

She was proud of how even her voice had sounded, how calm, despite the clamminess of her hands and the increasingly uncomfortable pressure on her chest. She had had panic attacks before and didn't relish the prospect of having another one in front of Embry Call. She hadn't had one of those scary spells since she was in her early twenties, but the threat of them always lingered in the background. The panic attacks had been at their worst when she was a child. She could still feel her father shaking her, hear the fury in his voice.

Still smell the rancid scent of cheap whiskey on his breath.

Don't you dare play games with me. I know you're faking it. You'll sing if you want to eat tomorrow. You'll sing if you don't want to be locked out again. You didn't like sleeping on the beach last time, did you?

Embry's eyes widened incredulously at her cold words. His face settled into a rigid furious mask. "So you got what you wanted is that it?"

"Very much so," she assured him.

"I know I sure as hell did."

She stepped toward him, but her confused attempt to smooth the waves she'd caused was cut short when he abruptly said, "Don't worry, I'll see myself out."

She turned and faced the ocean again. When she heard the slam of the door behind him, she picked up the champagne glass with a shaky hand.

The icy fluid tasted flat and bitter on her tongue.

Leah swung open the door. Rosalie looked flushed and pretty standing there in the hallway. Leah suspected her healthy glow had just as much to do with the escort named Emmett, the man Rosalie had spent the last two nights with, as it did the tropical sun.

Leah's own tan had deepened considerably. But unlike Rosalie, Leah couldn't attribute her glowing skin to sex. She had spent the last few nights alone in a cold bed, trying not to think about that night with Embry Call. She couldn't imagine what had gotten into her—why she'd behaved so uncharacteristically.

Every time she recalled the graphic image of herself in that mirror—raw, unprotected, and shuddering violently in orgasm—something swelled uncomfortably in her chest.

"Another night in paradise," Rosalie sighed.

Leah chuckled. She was glad Rosalie seemed so relaxed. Still a prickle old uncertainty went through her when she fully went through her when she fully took in the contentment on her friend's face.

"Rose, you're not letting this guy—Emmett—get under your skin, are you?" Leah felt like a hypocrite after she asked. Who was the one who had allowed a paid escort to get to her?

And Leah knew better.

"No, but I'm going to miss him when we leave," Rosalie admitted as she stepped into Leah's suite. Leah picked up her purse. "He's really made me forget about Royce—or at least, not obsess about him so much. Kind of hard to focus on all the nasty thing's Royce's been pulling in divorce court when you've got a beautiful man filling up your…err…thoughts."

Leah smiled. "Well, I'm thankful for that. Are you seeing him again tonight?"

Rosalie blushed making her cheeks turn even pinker beneath her sunburn. "He's stopping by at ten."

Leah checked her watch. "Guess we'd better get to dinner then."

Since they were both wearing heels, they had to take the street instead of the beach. The mood on the usually bustling Kalakaua Avenue was uncharacteristically mellow in the soft twilight. Leah walked briskly, however, refusing to enjoy the beauty of the evening, the strolling tourists, or the caressing breeze. Her memories of the glitzy, touristy avenue fueled her hasty footsteps. Or maybe it was the sound of street entertainers in the distance—strumming ukuleles and woman's voice.

A woman, not a child, she reminded herself anxiously.

"I think this is the entrance," Rosalie said referring to the restaurant where she had booked a reservation.

"Bry's?" Leah asked when she saw the sign. Her footsteps faltered for an instant as she recalled the hotel front desk calling the other night to announce her guest.

A man by the name of Bry says he's here to see you, Ms. Clearwater. Shall I send him up?

"Yeah, apparently it's a Waikiki must. It's always so booked up, though. I couldn't get reservations until tonight. The food is supposed to be phenomenal, and I got us an ocean side table. It came with the highest recommendation in my travel guide."

"Great," Leah murmured as they approached a native hostess wearing a pretty floral dress and a peach colored lei.

"I love your lei," Rosalie complimented amiably as the woman gathered their menus.

"Thank you," the hostess replied with a smile. She led Rosalie and Leah down a walnut panel lined hallway. Out of the corner of her eye Leah noticed a blur of photos, all associated with sporting events around the islands—outrigger canoe races, swimming events, surfers riding shockingly tall waves. "They're actually for sale over there if you're interested. The owner's grandmother makes them. She always says flowers are the only jewelry women should wear."

One of the photos came into sharp, clear focus—the image of a lean, powerfully built male swimmer crouched to dive on the starting block.

"Embry Call," Leah said.

The hostess's brow furrowed before she looked to where Leah stared. Her smile widened. "Yes, that's the owner of Bry's. He's an Olympic gold medalist, many times over. He still holds several world records. He's also a championship surfer."

"He was our surf instructor!" Rosalie exclaimed. They had all paused and were staring at the photo of Embry.

The hostess laughed melodiously. "You were lucky to get him. His busy schedule usually only allows him to squeeze in a couple lessons a week. He has enough staff to cover his lessons, but he usually tries to teach a few because he loves it so much. He also owns a boat marina in Honolulu, and he's always volunteering for charity and sporting events here on the island. The Call family is very well known locally. Call Farms exports a huge amount of island produce to the Orient and the mainland—pineapple, macadamia nuts, coconut oil, things like that. So… he didn't tell you he owned Bry's?"

"No he never mentioned it," Leah replied coolly. She unglued her gaze from the photograph of Embry poised to dive. Even though he wore goggles, she still could see the intensity in his dark eyes, the expression of focused determination.

The look of a man who got what he wanted.

"Does he have any other… business ventures?" Leah asked, trying to hide the irritation in her voice. From the perplexed expression of the hostess, she hadn't succeeded very well.

"Not that I'm aware of, I can't imagine what else he would have time for."

Leah smiled and nodded. The hostess resumed showing them to their table.

"Wow, we were taught how to surf by a local legend," Rosalie whispered as they followed the hostess.

Leah hadn't revealed to her good friend that Embry Call had enlightened her a great deal more than just how to find her balance in the crashing surf. He'd showed her the dizzying depths of her passion. As far as Rosalie knew, Leah's guest on that first night had been enjoyed and subsequently forgotten.

She thanked the hostess distractedly when she placed a napkin in her lap and handed them the menus. She gazed out at the remaining swimmers frolicking in the waves.

Embry Call may have fueled the flames of her desire into an inferno, but he had done it dishonestly. Sure he had lied about being a male escort. Why would a man like him bother being employed as a male escort—being employed as anything, for that matter, when he was clearly a successful entrepreneur and probably the most eligible bachelor on the whole damn island?

Anger burned in her stomach when she considered his bold face lie.

But so did curiosity.

Why had he done it? He didn't need to trick a woman to get her into bed. Was his motivation just to put Leah in her place after the way she had treated him during the surf lesson? Had he just been soothing a bruised ego?

If that were the case, he should be triumphant. He had brought her to her knees. She would have done anything he had asked her—and gladly. She should be wild with fury. But although she was unsettled and yes angry, she couldn't help but recall the expression on his handsome face just before he had stalked out of her hotel suite. It'd hardly been victorious.

She ordered a mai tai at the waiter's recommendation and made small talk with Rosalie. But the question kept recurring to her again and again.

Why had he done it?

For some reason her mind fastened on the question and refused to let go. Not until she found out the answer.

Lei- A wreath of flowers, especially one worn around the neck

Sigh... for the love of Embryy lol ..

Now I'm going to sleep I have to wake up in a few hours for school :) Woooo College!... *loads of sarcasm there* lol

Review..