Honor Bound by Joey Hill (good novels to read in english TXT) 📗

vacation was pretty damn good. She sipped her drink and surveyed the pool area, an expansive, winding behemoth so large she couldn’t even see the other side of it.

It was crowded already, too. But not wholly by single men, unfortunately. Lots of couples as well as families with their children in tow. She decided to ignore them and scan the area for men traveling alone. Surely there were conferences here. Then again, men attending conferences might be busy during the day, and available only at night. Which meant she’d have to hit the clubs and bars. She could do that.

Right, because she was so worldly. She snickered and took a sip of her drink, put it on the table next to her and adjusted the chaise flat.

Time for some sun worshipping. She’d go man hunting later.

Clay surveyed the pool and ocean from his spot on the upper bar deck. He’d gotten in late—really late—last night, had done some work on his laptop and promptly passed out.

This morning he’d gone for a workout in the gym, taken a walk on the beach and had breakfast, then gone to his room to make a few calls.

Yeah, so far, some vacation. But Tish told him Ella’s plane got in late this morning, so he figured he’d run into her sometime today. In the meantime, he decided to soak up some sun.

This condo complex was packed. A lot of couples—on their honeymoons, probably—and families with kids running around screaming.

He liked kids. A lot. Someday he might want to have some. Maybe. If he had time. His father was a career-driven workaholic, and Clay couldn’t remember spending much time with his dad. Nothing worse than an absent parent to make a child feel worthless. He didn’t want to do that to his own kids. Better not to have any.

Of course since he never delved into a relationship past three or four dates, the chances of actually marrying and having children with someone seemed pretty damned remote right now.

Because he’d also seen how lonely his mother was, how his father’s frequent absences and preoccupation with his career had affected her. And he’d never do that to a woman, either. It was best to keep them at arm’s length, not get too involved. Then he wouldn’t have to hurt them.

Damn. Too much downtime equaled too much time for reflection on how fucked-up his personal life was. No wonder he liked working nonstop. He flagged down the waitress and ordered a beer, then flipped his sunglasses over his eyes and surveyed the pool.

One woman caught his eye. A flash of red swimsuit, long brown hair, and just something about her—

He straightened, leaned forward, then stood and walked to the railing of the deck to get a better look. She was lying on the chaise, one knee bent, sunglasses on and a hat shielding the upper part of her face from the sun, so he couldn’t really tell.

And damn, he’d never seen Ella . . . uncovered, but this woman’s body was a knockout.

A light sheen of sweat glistened on her skin, looking as though drops of gold had been sprinkled all over her.

She stood, and Clay sucked in a breath. Her breasts were full, but not overly large. Just perfect for her frame. Her hips flared out below her small waist, her belly was flat and she had beautiful, shapely legs. Toned arms, rockin’ shoulders . . . This woman either worked out like a demon, or worked for a living.

She pulled off the hat and dragged her fingers through her hair, pulled off her sunglasses, then headed to the pool and dove in. She swam a few laps, then came up the stairs, water sluicing off her body.

Clay finally exhaled. It was Ella. Holy shit. She sure looked a lot different in a bikini than she did in boots, jeans and a work shirt. He almost felt guilty over the tightening of his cock.

Almost.

She smiled when the waitress brought her a fresh drink. He loved her smile. She didn’t do it often enough.

Clay took his seat again, peering at her through the slats on the deck. No one approached or sat next to her. She seemed to be alone, at least here at the pool.

But was she meeting someone?

He still had no idea what he was doing here. He had yet to book the deep-sea fishing excursion he’d used as an excuse for coming to Hawaii. It sure as hell wasn’t entirely for Ella. Just partly. He felt responsible for her.

So he wanted to make sure Ella was okay.

Then he’d go fishing.

Or so he kept telling himself as he spent the better part of the afternoon ogling Ella while she sunbathed and took a few dips in the pool. He felt like a stalker. Or a private investigator. Only no one had hired him to watch her. That one he’d decided on his own.

She finally left the pool about five, and he did the same, feeling ridiculous for spying on her. What was he going to do if she met a man? Lurk behind the nearest tree and watch them? And then what? Get a telephoto lens so he could see in her room and watch them get it on? Which would be physically impossible since she was on the tenth floor.

Hell. He didn’t know what he was doing here, other than acting like a dumbass.

He took a shower, made a few calls, then worked on his laptop for a couple hours. Sitting in his room made him stir-crazy and he was getting hungry. He got dressed and decided to see what was going on downstairs.

If he was smart, he’d just call Ella’s room and let her know he was here.

But he wanted to lie low, at least for a bit, to see what she was up to. If she was, in fact, meeting up with some guy, he’d be embarrassed as hell. This way, he could sneak a peek at her, make sure she was okay,