A Tropical Heat novella (Bk 2)

Return to Paradise

Mason Caldwell is a luxury resorts tycoon, a busy, determined man with goals to meet:
— build a perfect art studio in their beach house so his sexy, estranged wife will have to live with him while working
— lure Leilani back to Hawaii by commissioning her (through a third party) to adorn the walls of his newest resort with massive canvasses
— find proof that he’s innocent of adultery, and
— get his short-lived marriage back on track, especially if it means encouraging the sparks flying between them to burst into flames.

Still feeling betrayed and manipulated by Mason, Leilani returns to O’ahu with her own agenda:
— ignore her attraction to her handsome husband
— finish the tropical paintings commissioned by him
— earn the money to pay for her mother’s medical care, and
— get Mason’s signature on divorce papers.

Resenting his deceptive methods, Leilani struggles with conflicting messages from her heart and her head, especially with Mason’s familiar touch and heat-filled gazes tugging at her heart.

Can they fight the love and passion that rages between them long enough to rebuild trust in their marriage, or will their relationship implode once again?

– – – – –

EXCERPT :

Chapter One

Paradise or purgatory?

Leilani Tomas couldn’t decide as she navigated the breezeway between the gates and main terminal of Honolulu International Airport, trepidation growing with each step. The scents of plumeria, jet exhaust, and ocean air swirled around her, all painful reminders.

It was here she’d made her biggest error in judgment, marrying Mason Caldwell, über wealthy CEO of Caldwell Properties International and her soon-to-be ex. That she’d returned to the island mere weeks before their first anniversary was no accident. Mason had planned it that way, leaving her little choice in the matter.

O’ahu was a South Pacific paradise, but if she let the memories of her Waikiki beach wedding and luxurious honeymoon crowd in, this trip promised to be pure— What the hell?

The sign held by a young Hawaiian woman said Tomas-Caldwell in bold black letters. Damn Mason anyway. He was well aware she didn’t use his name.

How typical of him to simply ignore what he didn’t like. She marched over to the sign bearer. “I’m Leilani Tomas.”

“Aloha. Welcome to Hawaii.”

“Mahalo,” Lani murmured, bending forward to accept the fragrant leis. Good heavens, three of them?

The fragrance of white ginger, tuberose, and plumeria filled her nostrils, tempering her irritation with Mason’s gifts. She smiled and accepted the brief, customary kiss on her cheeks.

“What else has Mr. Caldwell arranged?”

The girl grinned. “He took care of everything. Would you follow me, please?”

Well, of course he did. Lani forced a wider smile and nodded, then smiled again while giving her luggage stubs to the waiting skycap. By the time he’d delivered her into the hands of a uniformed chauffeur, Lani’s cheeks hurt from the effort.

“I’m sorry for your trouble, but I have a rental car reserved. I can handle things from here. Thank you.” She reached for her luggage.

The closest door of a white stretch limo sprang open.

“Hello, Lani.”

Her stomach lurched at the familiar, deep timbre, and she had a sudden urge to flee. Only her feet refused to budge. She sucked in much-needed oxygen.

Long khaki-clad legs swung from the dark depths of the limo, muscles bunching beneath soft fabric as he emerged into the heat in dress slacks and a white golf shirt.

“Mason.” His name was all she could manage. He took her breath. He’d always had that infuriating ability.

“Welcome home, darlin’.” Mason leaned forward as if to kiss her.

She stiffened and pulled back at the last second. His nearness and the deep, quiet tones of his voice were unnervingly intense. Why was it men who were bad for you always came with an attraction potent enough to knock a woman off balance? Lani donned dark sunglasses against the late afternoon sun, hoping to look casual and dismissive, though she felt anything but. That had been too close. For a moment there, she’d almost leaned into the kiss.

Without turning her head, she observed him. He still wore his thick, brown hair long, secured at his nape with an elastic band. His tan accentuated cautious hazel eyes and the features too rugged to be classically handsome.

One corner of his mouth pulled up in a slight smirk. “You’re looking well. Miss me?”

Oh, God, yes. She shrugged and turned away, watching the driver stow her luggage. When she was sure her voice wouldn’t waver, she turned back to Mason.

“Let’s wait until we’re in the car, shall we?”

He nodded once and swept his arm wide.

Lani entered the vehicle and took a seat close to the opposite door. Mason followed, and the door shut beside him. The tropical climate she could handle but having him so near raised her inner temperature.

“We’re alone now. No kiss for your husband after you’ve been away?”

She removed her shades in the darkened interior and stared at him, disbelieving. He sounded as if she’d been on a trip, not separated from him for six months. As if nothing of importance had happened. As if she hadn’t left him with her heart sliced open and bleeding.

He needed to understand their separation would continue. “Let’s get one thing straight. ‘We’ are not part of the bargain. I’m here to fulfill the contract, not to renew our relationship. Are we clear?”

“Crystal.” The gentle flare of his nostrils and the tiny tic along his jaw told her she’d driven her point home, and he didn’t like it one bit.

Tough.

As usual, other than well-controlled anger, he showed no signs of her words affecting him. Why did she keep looking for some glimmer of hope? Even if she believed he’d once had feelings for her, it didn’t change the fact that she couldn’t trust him. Lani refused to live her life like her mother had, waiting for crumbs of affection that were never enough.

“I appreciate the royal treatment, but there was no need. I have a rental car reserved. If you could have the driver stop—”

“Your Mini-Cooper and the Jag are here, and both are in perfect working order. There’s no need for a rental.”

Why did he always need to run the show? To control the ones he loved—correction, the ones he felt were his responsibility—and shower them with gifts, things?

The perfume from the leis wafted around her, and Lani sighed. She did so enjoy the custom-made Mini, a birthday gift from her husband. Correction. Soon-to-be ex-husband. With Mason, the gifts and taking charge weren’t just courtesy, but an obsession she’d come to recognize as a substitute for emotion.

How many times had she wished for a declaration of his feelings instead? No matter. It would have been a lie. His betrayal had hurt worse than she’d thought possible, teaching her she couldn’t believe his generosity was in any way tied to real emotion. Still, the car was hers, and he’d gone to considerable lengths to have it shipped all the way from Texas. It was silly not to use it. She’d always found it fun to drive.

“Fine. Whatever.” She could stand being polite and distant if the result was what she wanted—a fast, uncontested divorce. “Is the studio ready?”

“Of course. Supplies and canvases all waiting for the artist. If there’s anything else you need, just ask.”

“And you’re certain I’ll have enough quiet to concentrate?”

“I’m sure of it.”

“Thank you.”

“No problem. I was curious about the number of smaller canvases you ordered, though. You do understand I need oversized pieces for the hotel’s common areas?” He angled toward her, his body language inviting.

She looked out the window at the never-ending traffic of Honolulu, refusing to be taken in by his charm again. “They’re for a personal project. I’ll reimburse you.” The vivid tropical scenes she had planned would brighten her mother’s drab room.

“For heaven’s sake, Lani, I’m not worried about the money.” Mason’s clipped tones revealed his exasperation. “How long are you going to do this?”

“Until the paintings are finished. When I agree to a commissioned project, I finish it.”

“Don’t be coy. It isn’t cute. How long do you plan to punish me for something you think I did?”

Anger, hot and suffocating, shot through Lani’s veins. The man could be such a bastard sometimes.

“You forget I witnessed you leaving that… woman’s room, instead of mine, at two a.m. We were supposed to be together that night, working on our marriage, but apparently, that wasn’t high enough on your priority list.”

“And I’ve told you nothing happened. How can you believe rumors and circumstantial evidence over your own husband?” Mason’s voice boomed in the confined space.

“Because his story doesn’t hold water, and I know what I saw.” She held up her hand before he could reply. “I’m not rehashing this again, Mason. I’m not.” Lani touched two buttons, lowering her window, and opening the skylight. “We’re over. Yesterday’s news.”

Talking wouldn’t help, anyway. Mason insisted he was innocent, once he’d had time to concoct some ridiculous story about running into an old friend who’d wanted to get married and he’d helped the couple accomplish it. Sure, sure. Didn’t everyone want a friend tagging along, joining them in their honeymoon suite at a Caldwell luxury resort in Cancun? Of course, when she’d demanded proof, the couple had conveniently vanished.

How stupid did he think she was? After she’d left and had time to think, she’d realized that even if Mason’s ridiculous story proved true, it didn’t change the fact that their marriage hadn’t been important to him. Never had been. She’d been the afterthought, the last check-off box on his daily to-do list. Hell, she and their shaky marriage hadn’t even been on his radar that night despite his agreement to meet her for dinner to discuss how to fix their relationship. If so, he would’ve at least called to let her know he’d been held up. That she’d meant so little to him still stung.

She leaned her head back against the seat, released a shaky breath, and pushed the thoughts away. The last few weeks had been difficult, trying to get her mother into a decent facility to convalesce after a bad fall and reassuring her she wasn’t being abandoned. To Lani’s horror, hot, fat tears gathered and spilled over her lashes. She straightened and brushed them away, desperate that Mason wouldn’t see her fall apart.

She could do this because the outcome would mean her freedom and a new start. Mercifully, Mason didn’t pursue the subject of their past. Let him be accommodating, solicitous. Let him try to save their marriage. He could attempt to ply her with gifts and shower her with false adoration all he wanted. She was no longer the naive co-ed to his sophisticated, hard-edged magnate. The heartache of the last six months had seen to that.

This time she knew what to expect, was aware of the true measure of the man, and couldn’t be seduced. He’d soon tire of the exercise and go on to the next unsuspecting female.

The very thought of him with someone else made her stomach lurch. Her gaze fell on the large canvas tote bag at her feet, its contents hidden from view. She’d learned from experience to carry overnight essentials within its sturdy walls and items she couldn’t afford to lose. Like her favorite brushes.

And divorce papers.

*****

The ensuing silence was filled by traffic noise for several miles.

Mason shifted in his seat, plucking at the crease in his pants just below the knee.

How could Lani say she didn’t want to rehash the past? She’d never listened to his explanation. He gripped the armrest, fighting the urge to hold and comfort his wife. She’d obviously been under stress with her mother’s accident and the medical bills piling up.

He squelched memories of another accident and a preteen boy crushed under the weight of grief for his parents. Lani was fortunate. Couldn’t she see that?

He couldn’t understand why she’d become so furious when he’d paid her debts off. The total amounted to less than nothing, yet she insisted he subtract the sum from her painting commissions.

He’d never so much as flirted with another woman since he’d met Lani. How dare she not believe him? That she had so little faith in him, in his word and integrity, galled him. If she hadn’t appeared at the worst possible moment and refused to believe his reasonable explanation, they wouldn’t be in this mess.

How could she leave him and not look back? The question he’d asked too many times to count shivered through his mind like a frigid breeze. Maybe she’d never loved him at all.

Digging through the past right now wouldn’t endear her to him. Fighting about it wouldn’t either. But he would like to know if the woman he’d married still existed, or if he’d only seen what he wanted to all along. He needed answers, and he intended to get them. Being in limbo wasn’t a place he enjoyed nor one in which he intended to stay much longer.

He flicked his glance over her white Capri jeans and the simple scooped-neck top in green. This Lani resembled the woman he remembered. Gone were the perfect hairdo, designer clothes, fine jewelry, and fake nails so long she couldn’t pop the tab on a can of soda.

Despite her stiff posture, this Lani called to him, with her flawless, dusky skin—courtesy of her Hawaiian and Hispanic ancestry. She wore her long black hair secured into a messy up-do with a clip. It exposed the delicate flesh at her nape, reminding Mason of the times she’d come out of some lecture hall on the Stanford campus with nothing but a pencil holding her hair in a knot.

That day he’d been grateful for the travel his job required.

Early in their relationship, he’d delighted in showing her how much pleasure could be derived from lavishing attention along her neck, the curve of her ear, and the gentle slope of her shoulders. With him pushing the limits of her endurance, she’d gone from languid and sighing to demanding he extinguish the fire he’d started. Their frenzied lovemaking had dislodged the clip, and her hair spilled down her back as she rode him, wild and wanton.

Damn, but they’d been good together. That particular memory never failed to get a rise out of him. Today was no exception. Having her close after so long apart intensified the effect.

“Mason, you’re staring.”

“Sorry, darlin’. Seeing your hair up like that brings back memories.” He’d let his voice lower, but the gravelly part was pure lust. He couldn’t help it. Their physical joining, for the most part, had been… phenomenal. And if he had to suffer in her presence, then she’d damn well feel the heat, too.

Her gaze flicked over his crotch before she turned away to stare out the window. “Fine. I’ll wear it down.”

He chuckled. “I love it when you let your hair down, darlin’.”

Her fingers tightened into a fist. Lani glanced skyward and shook her head. “You contracted for my talent, not fringe benefits.”

“While you have many talents, I don’t recall asking for any fringe benefits. I simply remembered something from our past. We still have good memories, don’t we?”

She glared at him through lowered lids. “I have trouble remembering back that far.”

The hell she did. Mason clenched his jaw for a moment, then relaxed. He’d made his point. With any luck, Lani’s sleep would be as tormented as his own promised to be. Time to find a new subject.

“I take it Mama Tomas gave you a hard time about living in a Caldwell property?”

“She appreciates your making it happen and the private nurse. We both do. But you know Mama.” Lani raised a hand to her forehead in a dramatic gesture. “I’m sending her off to live with strangers, throwing her away. Never mind she needs constant care with a broken hip and cracked wrist.”

“You could bring her here to live when she’s better. There’s plenty of room, and she’s always welcome.” The offer slipped out before he remembered Leilani hadn’t returned to him, but to do a job.

“By the time she’s well enough to travel, I’ll be back on the mainland.”

“Right.” Unless he could find his damn alibis and bring them to the island. He made business deals more complicated than this; he should be able to make the rift between them go away. A nice romantic dinner would be a good start. He should have made more gestures like that during their marriage.

If he had any chance of winning her back, he had to make more of an effort and show her things would be different. “I thought we could drive the island tomorrow, take pictures of the views you’d like to paint. We could wind up the day at Haleiwa Joe’s on North Shore for dinner.”

A wry smile tugged at Lani’s full lips. “Nice try, but I’m capable of driving the island, Mason. Besides, I’m sure you have plenty to keep you busy.”

She’d relaxed a little, probably thinking he’d accepted her answer on the island drive and was free of him. Think again, sweetheart.

At least he’d managed to get her back where she belonged. With him. One hurdle overcome. Now the hard part. Getting her to realize they belonged together. He would win her back because the alternative was unthinkable. She’d made a commitment, damn it, and he had, too.

He meant to hold them both to their word.

When the driver passed up the turn to Plumeria Paradise, Mason tensed, but Leilani didn’t comment. She appeared too absorbed in passing landmarks and the ever-bustling traffic. Did this mean she’d expected to stay at the house and not his hotel? His pulse throbbed with the possibility.

Her mouth thinned when they passed under the sign for Hawaii Kai.

“I can’t believe you. I seriously can’t believe you. Have the driver turn around now. Did you think I’d move back in with you like nothing ever happened?”

Mason blew out a breath. “I thought you’d be more comfortable at the house. I renovated the enclosed lanai to accommodate the painting and removal of large canvases. Your studio is all set up.”

“Which is attached to the master bedroom. You know I work at night when things are going well. I can’t do that with you sleeping in the next room.”

“I moved into one of the guest bedrooms.” He’d done it months ago, unable to sleep in the bed they’d shared.

Lani’s surprised gaze snapped to his.

“I assure you my only intent was to offer you a comfortable working environment as outlined in our contract.”

“Since you’ve gone to all this trouble just for me, and you’re used to sleeping in strange beds, why don’t you take a suite at your hotel?”

Mason grimaced. “You really know how to turn the knife, woman. I don’t deny wanting you in my bed but getting you there kicking and screaming isn’t my style.” He paused for a moment, his lips curving as he thought about what he’d said. “Well, screaming is allowed, but only after the willing part.”

The muscles worked in Lani’s jaw as she struggled not to smile. God, if he could just get her to loosen up and remember what they’d had together.

“Don’t hold your breath. I prefer divorce over becoming a widow.”

As the driver turned into their driveway and waited for the sculptured metal gates to swing open, Mason smiled.

“I must be making progress if you’re smiling at the mention of a divorce.”

“No chance, darlin’. I’m delighted to be the one getting ahead. Six months ago, you told me to drop dead. Now you’d prefer I stay alive. See? Definite progress.”

*****

After the chauffeur set Lani’s bags inside the door and left, an awkward silence hung in the air. She glanced around the living room, Mason’s comment about their contract echoing in her head. It was the stinging barb, the casually spoken line that let his opponent know they hadn’t a prayer negotiating further.

Everything looked the same. How was that possible? She hadn’t seen the place in ages, yet the decorative touches she’d made to the place during their second trip to the island were still exactly as she’d left them. The snapshots of them laughing and loving still graced a small bookshelf. On the wall above it, he’d added a large, framed picture she’d painted for his birthday—a reminder of her and Mason’s home state. The gentle slope of a grass-covered hill and the starkness of one lone shade tree came alive with the profusion of color from bluebonnets and Indian paintbrush beneath a sunny Texas sky.

The house seemed to be waiting, holding its breath. But for what? She shook her head at the fanciful thought. After Mason’s quip about making progress, it was more likely he’d kept everything the same just to illustrate how she could step back into their life as it had been.

Other than his presence, which would probably be fleeting, given his penchant for frequent business trips, the one big problem she could see with the accommodations would be getting used to her tiny apartment again once this was all over. She’d already experienced the difficulties of giving up a lavish lifestyle for a more practical one. This time she wouldn’t be seduced by it all. She knew better.

“Something wrong?”

“No.”

Mason bent to pick up her bags. “I’ll put these in the bedroom.”

Lani lifted the tote filled with her favorite brushes and followed. She ignored the bedroom and walked straight through it to the lanai. As with everything Mason touched, the studio he’d created was first class. Three sides of the room were windowed, overlooking the tropical oasis that was the backyard and beach beyond. A large easel stood waiting in the center of the room and the ceiling had been raised to the second-story roof. He’d created an artist’s paradise—a sanctuary of natural light surrounded by beauty, with the best supplies money could buy.

It was a room designed to spoil her for all other studios.

“Very nice,” she managed after tamping down the “Oh, wow!” threatening to erupt. The smell of canvases covered in fresh gesso wafted from a stack leaning against the far-left wall, some of them almost as large as the wall itself. She longed to add acrylic paint to the mix, creating one of her favorite scent combos.

Lani moved forward, touching the new easel, the swivel stool, a sketchpad. “You must have worked very hard to have this finished before I arrived.”

“I knew what was needed. Others did the hard work.”

And yet, she knew Mason. He was hands-on. Much to his detriment at times. He’d have overseen every stage and inspected the progress every night. “Even so, I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.”

If only she had something even half as good as this back home in San Francisco, where she and her mother had been abandoned by her father. They had, out of necessity, made the city their home, but they both missed Texas.

Lani especially missed the hill country and Mason’s ranch with its stately live oaks, bluebonnets in the spring, the longhorn cattle, baby goats cavorting, and a view from his huge, covered porch that offered gentle breezes, birds flitting between the feeders, deer strolling by or stopping for a rest, and soul-restoring sunsets. They’d managed two separate weeks there over the months, but it had made a lasting impression.

The wistful thoughts brought her up short. She was still a struggling artist, despite concentrating on her craft between waiting tables and substitute teaching at local art classes. She should be and was grateful for this opportunity and what it would mean to her future. For a while, she could fulfill a dream of painting full time.

Mason could have hired any number of artists to create paintings for his hotel, but he’d insisted hers would elicit the atmosphere he wanted. It wasn’t charity, she reminded herself. Although she’d allowed him to pull a few strings, she’d refused to take his money when her mama’s fall created a financial burden. This she could handle. He’d receive goods for his money. She’d earn more than enough for the costs not covered by insurance and the hotel suite Mason had placed at her mom’s disposal.

This opportunity had been a godsend—the break she’d been hoping for and working toward. If only he hadn’t gone through an intermediary to commission her, disguising his identity until the final contract had to be signed.

Regardless of the circumstances, she welcomed the work and the commission. Not to mention the added prestige of having her paintings hanging in a hotel where thousands of people would see them every year. That was almost as good as having a long-running exhibit in a gallery.

The gift shops would carry limited edition prints, T-shirts, scarves, bags, coffee mugs, and postcards with her art on them. She’d lost count of the number of items that would be offered, and she’d get a small stipend from every sale. It was another thing to consider when selecting her subject matter for each piece.

She needed some time alone to wrap her mind around staying at the house and fortify herself against his close proximity. Having to be on her guard around Mason was more taxing than she’d thought. Outside, the brightness of the summer evening had begun to wane. Lani took her cue from nature, faked a yawn, and sat her wooden case on a nearby table.

He sighed. “The kitchen is well-stocked if you’re hungry.”

“No, thanks.” She stepped into the bedroom, feeling self-conscious with him standing there, watching her. “I’ll just unpack, take a shower, and go to bed early.”

Mason took two steps toward the doorway and stopped. The air between them electrified, the scent from the leis becoming cloyingly sweet. Lani removed them from around her neck and hung them over the end bedpost. “Thanks for these. They’re beautiful.”

His gaze caught her own. “They’ve got nothing on you.”

There was that gravelly sound in his voice again, just like in the limo earlier.

She attempted a smile, not quite sure how to respond, her heart aching with regret.

The man oozed charm, charisma, and sex appeal. She’d fallen hard and fast for him once. She couldn’t let it happen again.

Living with an unfaithful husband had sucked all the joy and life from her mama. History would not repeat itself with her.

“Well, I’ll see you in the morning,” Mason said, his tone clipped. He closed the door behind him, and tears prickled behind her eyelids.

Lani took a deep shuddering breath. Sharing a house with him couldn’t last more than a few days. Nothing came before Mason’s business. Strangely enough, the bitter thought gave her hope. She could stand living with this… whatever it was between them for that long. Then some crisis would whisk him away to his various business ventures and whatever game he was playing would be over.

He’d never gotten what being married was all about—not when he was too busy jetting around the globe, appearing at various social functions with his executive assistant, occasionally stopping long enough to warm Lani’s bed and leave another lavish gift. Jewelry, spa certificates, and impressive credit cards. She’d gotten the hint. He’d wanted her to remold herself into someone of his world, and for a while she’d tried. So much for his commitment to love, honor, and cherish.

She unpacked, showered, and crawled into the king-size bed she’d once shared with Mason—delicious days and nights of learning each other’s bodies during their honeymoon, then again when he’d surprised her by purchasing the place a few weeks later.

Silky strands of hair tickled her shoulders, bringing to mind the reason for his body’s reaction to her in the limo, and she groaned.

Damn him for reminding her he could make her cry out with passion, then leave her to sleep in their bed with the memory. She punched her pillow into submission and snuggled under the lightweight covers, her body achy and restless, despite the fatigue.

*****

Mason leaned back in the task chair, legs splayed. Did Lani go to bed downstairs thinking about how it had been between them, as he had countless times in the last few months? With any luck, she had, and the memories would be good ones—forcing her to rethink that damn “D” word.

The letters and numbers blurred together on his laptop screen. He shut it off and rubbed his face, trying to revive gray matter that refused to be prodded into service any longer.

He’d had plenty of time to think after he’d come home from Cancun to find Lani had taken her things from the ranch, except the Mini Cooper. Plenty of time to remember the things he hadn’t paid much attention to at the time. Like her urging him to travel less and work smarter using the high-tech gadgets he’d tried to avoid.

Mason had also had more than enough time to regret letting his pride and anger get in the way of common sense and losing the opportunity to have settled this misunderstanding quickly.

Months ago, he’d thought it would all blow over, and she’d see how wrong she’d been to doubt him. When he’d finally come to his senses and thought to prove how wrong she was, the couple whose wedding he’d spent the evening celebrating were long gone—his friend Robb’s new wife, Janet, heading out on another secret assignment while Robb Winthrop returned to his archeological digs deep in the jungle of the Yucatan.

Soon his latest brainchild would be in full swing, and then Lani could see how committed he was to making their marriage work. That had to mean something to her, right? He’d be home more, just like she’d wanted. But would it be enough if his private investigator couldn’t locate either of the Winthrops before Lani fulfilled her contract?

Without warning, a huge yawn threatened to dislocate his jaw, and Mason stretched, trying to loosen tight muscles. He reached back and pulled the band off his hair, enjoying the release of tension.

Just keeping up with the daily reports and running interference on the bigger decisions was a job in itself, but he had a plan for that problem too. On top of that, he’d decided to oversee the remodel on Plumeria Paradise, Caldwell Enterprise’s latest acquisition. He could say using technology to keep up with his various interests was to prevent his having to micro-manage, or that it was for the health of the company. But behind all the changes was guilt, pure and simple.

He’d failed his wife.

The knowledge that she’d deserved much better than he’d given didn’t sit well. The constant travel and negotiations for the purchase of the Waikiki resort had taken too much of his time from Lani. He owed it to her—and to himself—to put things right and show her their marriage could work.

He yawned again and acknowledged the need for sleep. With a groan, he rose from the chair. Stiffened knees protested the length of time he’d parked his butt at the desk. He hobbled across the hall to brush his teeth before stripping and sliding naked between cool, soft sheets. They swept over his crotch, making him wish it was Lani’s hands on him, her mouth caressing him, and her supple body filling his hands.

Glancing at the bedside clock, he groaned. Morning would be here too soon. These kinds of thoughts were what he’d been trying to avoid for hours. He closed his eyes and acknowledged the futility of the action.

For the first time in what had felt like forever, Lani and he slept in the same house. The image of her remained, even behind his closed eyelids. Her cocoa skin against white denim reminded him how well they’d performed an old familiar rhythm, his flesh lighter than hers where their bodies joined.

He heaved a sigh into the darkness. Lani hadn’t been here a day, and already he was hard and aching for her. How could that be when he hated the callous way she’d tried to end their marriage?

Seeing her again had left him with more questions than he’d had before, tempering his anger, and reminding him of their early days. Who was she now? The Lani he’d fallen in love with and married had been full of life and laughter. The married Lani had fast become someone he didn’t recognize, especially toward the separation, someone he’d become less and less attracted to.

And today’s Lani?

Oh, she pushed his buttons again, this one did. She’d changed into a more mature version of her former self. Cautious, and more sophisticated than the woman he’d married, but soft and feminine again, letting her natural beauty shine through.

He turned on his side, any position uncomfortable in his aroused condition. Whoever she’d morphed into, she was still his wife. Now that he had her where he wanted, time was on his side. He would push his private investigator to bring his friends back here to explain about that night, or he’d take Lani to them. He had to win her back.