Their Secret Paradise: Immortal Paradise, #100
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On the island where the gods Love and Lust reside, no one will leave untouched…
Parapsychology grad Gina Munson finds her uncle's island resort fascinating,-but romantically dangerous. The supernatural passion of the island caused her a harsh lesson before, and now her only interest is to study the paranormal without falling victim to the resort’s special “charms.”
Contractor David Gilroy wouldn’t believe in the island’s alleged power even if he knew about it. He’s not interested in anything other than his building job...until he runs across Gina sunbathing topless.
When summer in paradise blossoms into a desire she may never recover from, Gina knows she can’t trust what they’re feeling. How can David convince her that his passion is real? What if it isn’t?
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Their Secret Paradise - J. Rose Allister
Table of Contents
Their Secret Paradise
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Their Secret Paradise
...an Immortal Paradise series spinoff romance
J. Rose Allister
On the island where the gods Love and Lust reside, no one will leave untouched...
Parapsychology grad Gina Munson finds her uncle's island resort fascinating,-but romantically dangerous. The supernatural passion of the island caused her a harsh lesson before, and now her only interest is to study the paranormal without falling victim to the resort’s special charms.
Contractor David Gilroy wouldn’t believe in the island’s alleged power even if he knew about it. He’s not interested in anything other than his building job...until he runs across Gina sunbathing topless.
When summer in paradise blossoms into a desire she may never recover from, Gina knows she can’t trust what they’re feeling. How can David convince her that his passion is real? What if it isn’t?
THEIR SECRET PARADISE
Copyright © 2017 by J. Rose Allister.
All rights reserved. Printed in the United States of America. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations em- bodied in critical articles or reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organiza- tions, places, events and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
For information contact :
J. Rose Allister
http://jroseallister.com
Copyright © 2017 by J. Rose Allister
Second E-book Publication: June 2012
First E-book Publication: November 2009, Eternal Press
Cover design by J. Rose Allister
All cover art and logo copyright © 2017 by J. Rose Allister
Word Count: 28,575
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Romance
One
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DAVID GILROY’S CAMERA LENS caught his image in the shimmering glass of the hotel. Great, he thought. I look like a damn tourist. He paused to consider the truth of it as he shook his head, freeing his vision from sun-bleached hair. Despite the dense tropical air, he’d have preferred jeans to the shorts he wore, flannel to the cotton tank, and work boots to the Nikes. Still, it was the camera in his hand that gave his tourist garb that over-the-top touch. Even he could believe the guy in that reflection was one of the mega-walleted travelers who were here to drop wads of cash in a pointless, hopelessly overpriced vacation.
With a snort he turned away, his eyes sliding over the lush flora and wasted space he was here to transform. No, David Gilroy did not waste life on futile vacations. He helped create them for others. At least, that’s what he would be doing on this job, which would net him as much as some of these goons were spending to take in the four S’s—Sleep, Sun, Satiety, and Sex. In various orders and combinations.
He wandered off a cement path that went nowhere, stopping to test the ground by flexing his knees. No doubt the area had been well graded during original construction, but this side of the hotel featured a jungle-like tangle of shrubs that looked wild and long established. After clearing the tropics of, well, tropics to make room for his build, construction would be easier if there was a firm foundation beneath.
A foolish man builds his house upon the sand,
he said to no one in particular as he bent close to the damp earth, digging into the visible layer of sand. He came up with a rich crumble of dirt. That was something, at least.
As he straightened, brushing dirt from his fingers, his attention landed on the fertile plant life ahead. It was a shame to have to clear nature’s bounty to make room for man’s progress—if indeed one considered it that—but the wealthy needed another corner of the Amante del Mar resort upon which to frolic and squander their money. The planned multipurpose quad would be no amphitheater, but a fair chunk of flora would have to be sacrificed. As little as possible, per his preference and the owner’s wishes.
He raised the Nikon digital and snapped some shots of the doomed plant life, stopping when he noticed something unusual. He squinted against the bright morning sun to check his logic. Sure enough, there was a sort of clearing through the dense brush. David pushed into the press of exotic flora, hoping his mosquito repellent was enough to keep hungry tropical critters at bay. Fronds snapped back in place behind him, and just as he had a mental flashback of childhood safari games, he popped out into a generous, cylindrical nook. With interest but no conscious thought, the camera came up again. His finger depressed the shutter automatically for a rapid-fire round of photos as he twisted his body, shooting every angle of the space. Maybe ten photos had already snapped off when he peered over the top of the Nikon to see the occupied lounge chair straight ahead. Reclining there was the most luscious, mouth-watering pair of...
Hey!
He jumped as a heavenly mirage swung around on the lounger. The woman’s feet swooped into delicate sandals in one smooth motion as she rose. What the hell are you doing?
David blinked in confusion, caught off guard by the beauty outshining the tropical nest encircling them. Her state of dress, or rather, undress, froze a reply on his tongue. Nestled atop bronzed thighs was a small triangle of fabric tied at her hips with strings so narrow a mouse wouldn’t bother chewing them. That completed her attire, unless one counted the sandals and tanned, slender arms she’d crossed over the full breasts he’d seen in full glory just seconds before.
"I said, she went on with an added punch of venom,
what the hell do you think you are doing?"
Fragments of words raced through his mind, and he groped at them in desperation to force together a sentence. He’d never been at such a loss for words, but a naked goddess in a secret island hideaway was the last thing he’d expected.
I’m sorry,
he managed. I didn’t realize this space was occupied.
Eyes that mirrored the lush green of the surrounding leaves flashed. And once you saw otherwise, you decided to take home a few naked picture souvenirs?
He followed her accusing glance to the camera in his hand, which he shoved behind his back with a frown. Of course not.
Don’t bother hiding it. I saw you taking photos of me.
I wasn’t taking photos of you!
What’s the matter? Can’t a handsome guy like you get a real date?
The heat rising in his neck flooded his face and loosened his tongue. Look, lady, I don’t snap photos of naked chicks as a hobby. I’m here on business.
Oh, so you sell them on the Internet, then?
She looked around behind her, and both their eyes landed on a tiny jumble of white strings and cloth that no doubt comprised the top half of her bathing suit. I feel so much better knowing my photo is destined for Desperate Losers dot com.
Ridiculous as she was, he had to quirk a smile at her candor. I’m a contractor, not a porn site owner. I was hired to build an addition to the resort.
He cocked his head, sliding both hands—including the camera—into his shorts pockets. I was just checking out the scenery.
So I noticed.
I have permission to be out here. What about you?
Me?
The cocky glare flickered with something akin to guilt.
Yes, you. I don’t recall there being public sunbathing on this side of the hotel.
Her eyes slid back to the swimsuit, as though wondering whether she could will it onto her body without having to uncross her arms. "I wasn’t looking for public sunbathing, for obvious reasons. And I’m certainly not interested in hosting a paparazzi convention. Now please leave."
His smile widened as he took in little details about her. Sun glinted off a thick rumple of strawberry blonde hair. Every limb and angle on her lithe form was sleek, tanned, delectably curved, and beyond edible. Against his better judgment, he took a long stride toward her.
Her eyes goggled and she shrank back. The lounger pressed against her calves halted her retreat. Stop or I'll scream.
Yet her voice had lowered to a contradictory whisper as he drew closer, not stopping until he was a foot or so away.
Her half-panicked, half-fascinated stare held his own as he leaned toward her. She jerked and sucked in a loud breath as he reached past