Vengeful Vows. Yvonne Lindsay

I don’t get every day,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

      She couldn’t help it; her body reacted with a shimmer of desire. She had no words to describe it, this stupid reaction to a tone of voice, but suddenly she was hyperaware of the man as he moved closer behind her. She dug into her beach bag for her hairbrush.

      “You might want to use this first,” she said, passing it back to him. “There’s a hair tie on the handle, too.”

      He took the hairbrush, and the next moment his fingers were working their way through her hair, touching her scalp and skimming the back of her neck as he eased the hairbrush through the knots. She’d never in her life believed that having her hair brushed by a stranger could feel erotic. But there was something deeply sensual about the way Galen followed each stroke of the brush with the touch of his fingers on her scalp. It made her want to sigh with pleasure.

      When he was done, she was on the verge of becoming putty in his hands. She felt a moment’s relief that she was facing away from him so he couldn’t see the way her nipples had become taut peaks against the thin fabric of her one-piece swimsuit in response to this most innocent of touches. But then he started to run his fingers through her hair again and every muscle in her body clenched.

      “You okay? I’m not hurting you, am I?” Galen asked.

      He was so close she felt his breath on her shoulder and shivered a little.

      “I’m fine,” she said in a voice that was tight with control.

      He was simply doing her hair, for goodness’ sake. Not seducing her. How this normal, everyday act could be playing such havoc with her senses was beyond her but she needed to get herself under control. She focused her gaze on Ellie and for a moment envied her the freedom of not caring who she was or what she looked like or what hurts had been visited upon her. Instead, she could just be carefree and in the moment. Industrious one minute, lying flat out on the sand the next, then laughing as she got to her feet and plunged into the water to wash off the sand five seconds later.

      Galen began sectioning her hair.

      “Do you want under or over?” he asked.

      “I beg your pardon?”

      “Your braid. Under, so it sits flat, or over, so it sits on top?”

      “I never knew there was a difference.”

      “Your mom never did this for you?”

      “My mom was sick for a long time, and my dad, well, let’s just say he didn’t have the benefit of online videos when I was growing up.”

      She swallowed against the surprising wave of emotion that choked her. There’d been days when her mom could meet her at the front door of their rented home with a smile and then there’d been others when she couldn’t even raise a hand to wipe a tear from her cheek. The disease that had plagued her had taken its toll on everyone, and the fiercely guarded memories of those times always shook Peyton to the core.

      “Anyway, does it matter?” she said a little more sharply than she’d intended.

      “Over it is. And tomorrow we can go into the intricacies of the herringbone braid. Now, be still. I need to concentrate on this.”

      He fell silent as he worked. When it was over, he rested his hands on top of her shoulders. His palms were warm and his fingers gentle, but to her they felt like brands on her bare skin.

      “Admiring your handiwork?” she asked with a note of sarcasm.

      “Something like that. Did you know that you have these really soft curls of baby hair that grow at the nape of your neck?”

      She shivered as he touched them, winding one around a finger. His knuckle brushed the back of her neck, sending her body into sensation overload. Who knew the back of her neck was so sensitive? Then her whole body went into shock as she felt the imprint of his lips right there at her nape. She bolted up from her lounger in an instinctive attempt to create more distance between them and adjusted her sunglasses on her face as she turned around and looked down on him.

      Galen looked up at her unashamedly. “Sorry, couldn’t help myself.”

      He flashed her another of those devil-may-care grins and rose from his lounger before jogging along the beach to where Ellie was fashioning a turtle sand sculpture. Peyton watched him join his ward with an enthusiasm she envied. Even in the short time she’d begun to get to know him, she recognized he had a knack for making everything look so uncomplicated. No doubt he was the life and soul of every party he attended, she thought with a touch of venom. The charmed billionaire who never had a care in his privileged world. He’d never had to come from school to a quiet house and wonder if today would be the day that he’d discover his mom dead in her bed. Or that the next knock on the door was from the sheriff to evict them from another home.

      And then again, he’d known loss, she reminded herself with an effort to be fair. Ellie’s parents’ deaths had obviously affected him, and her research had uncovered he’d lost his own father when he was in his early teens. That must have been hard. Maybe his carefree act was just that. An act. She shrugged, picked up her sarong and knotted it at her hip before pushing her feet into a pair of crystal-studded thongs and walking along the beach to supervise the sculpting. Whether it was an act or not, it didn’t matter to her because she wasn’t here to enjoy Galen Horvath’s company. She was here to do a job and she needed to remember that.

      * * *

      It was midnight, and Galen was mentally worn out and physically uncomfortable. There ought to be a law against suits and ties in tropical climates, he thought as he unknotted his tie and entered the villa that was home for the duration of their honeymoon.

      “Good of you to come back.” An acerbic voice came from the depths of the overstuffed couch facing the moonlit water. “I was beginning to wonder if you’d left us for good.”

      “Did you miss me?” Galen said, refusing to rise to Peyton’s bait.

      The woman had been so intent on keeping her distance from him that he’d almost begun to wonder if she’d even miss him when he had to work. Of course, working on honeymoon was not ideal, but the resort was on the verge of signing an agreement for a major expansion with an overseas partner, and certain things needed to be dealt with right here, right now.

      “Ellie missed you,” Peyton said, rising from the couch and facing him with her hands on her hips.

      Galen’s throat went dry as he took her in. She was silhouetted in the light behind her, exposing the slim, lean lines of her body beneath the sheer cream on the lemon-patterned sundress she wore. He’d seen her in her swimsuit and, yes, she was incredible to look at. But like this? She was mystery and mayhem all in one package. The sharp sound of her voice dragged him into reality.

      “I was beginning to wonder if you’d married me just so you could have a babysitter. I have to say, if that’s your parenting style, I feel sorry for Ellie because she deserves better than that.”

      Deserved better than him, too, perhaps? Galen felt his anger rise but, as ever, he pushed a lid down firmly on it and deflected her words with a smile. “Ellie knew I would be tied up all day.”

      “It doesn’t mean she didn’t miss you. She gets really anxious when you’re not around. Did you know that?”

      A shaft of guilt struck him in the chest. The last thing on earth he ever wanted to do was cause Ellie any distress. “What do you mean exactly?”

      “She sounded tense at dinnertime, asking when you’d be back. I tried to distract her. Let her beat me at cards.”

      “Let her?” He cocked a half grin. The kid was a demon at cards.

      “Okay, so she thrashed me. But when you weren’t home by bedtime she got really upset. She was terrified something had happened to you, no matter what I said.”

      Galen nodded, accepting that he should have reached out to let her know he wouldn’t