Will — Deal with the devil

To say that I wasn't more taken with Britney O'Prey than any other woman on the island would have been a lie. Was I the cliché rich boy who wanted what every man desired in a room, and yet couldn't have? Yes, yes I absolutely was. So much so that I watched her and her alone for an entire evening like some depraved, primitive creature.

This behavior of mine I would have been ready to chalk up to a passing fancy of an admittedly beautiful woman, if the woman in question did not continue to pique my interest in the only way any woman ever could: by simply not showing herself. Absence certainly made the heart grow fonder, even if it was only of the notion of taking a woman to bed.

"Have we heard back from the agency yet?" I asked absentmindedly, taking in the view from the balcony of my study.

Out here was where I did my best thinking. That was until I met Britney.

Over the last three days, all my thinking was about her. Naked. In my arms. In my bed. On the beach. In my office chair. On this very balcony… She ruined my favorite thinking spot without even being present.

"Not yet, Mr. Hunter," Harmon replied, fighting the urge to sigh.

"Well, make fire under their asses and get me a response by the end of the week," I replied with too much enthusiasm.

"You know, if you want to talk to her so badly, all you have to do is knock on her door," an exasperated Harmon snapped.

Clearly, my new found obsession was driving my PA as much up the walls as it was me. Wealth made me many things, patient not being one of them, much as I protested otherwise.

"I don't know what you mean," I insisted, clinging to what little pride I had left. "Just, do your job," I said with a hiss, shooing him away when I heard a knock on the door.

"I do my job, quite brilliantly I might add, which is why I can say things like this. Allow me to say it in language you might understand. Grow a pair," said Harmon, turning his back on me as he crossed the room to go and answer the door.

Deciding that I had had enough of the balcony for the present, I followed. Harmon opened the door to a distressed Arthur, my hotel manager, who had on his heels a certain fired up redhead that I hadn't seen in three days.

"This is outrageous," she yelled, hands now on her hips as she faced poor Arthur head on. "Hand my property over to me this instant."

The anger in her voice coupled with the vigor in her stance and the deep, determined frown on her face seeped straight into my chest, then dropped down to my groin. Well, there went the last of my pride. There she stood, in all her glory, proof that lust was dangerous.

"Mr. Hunter please," Arthur pleaded for my help.

Britney turned her wrath on me. "I need that phone, Will," she demanded.

My gaze went to the package under Arthur's arm. He clung to it for dear life. Harmon stepped in and took the box from the fifty something year old.

"Thank you, Arthur. That will be all," said Harmon, dismissing the manager.

Britney turned to go after the manager, then thinking better of it, turned on her heel and returned to me.

Seeming to have regained her wits, she said in a more controlled manner, "Mr. Hunter–"

"I quite liked Will, but whatever floats your boat," I said, gesturing for her to enter the study.

The anger seemed to drain right out of her, along with the confidence, to be replaced with the return of the deep-seated frown and something that looked a lot like desperation. It was only my second time seeing this woman, and yet my interest in her had grown.

Happy and flirty one second, grumpy and irritable the next. Angry and fierce one moment, hopeless and in despair the next. She was all over the place. Like someone not quite comfortable in her own skin. Nothing at all like her runway persona, like the reputation that preceded her.

What kind of demons are you battling, fair maiden, and how may I be of assistance?

"This way, Ms. O'Prey. We won't be a moment," I insisted.

Hesitating a while longer, she looked to Harmon, then me, before resigning herself to her fate. "Fine. Let's just get this over with," she said, stepping into the study.

Harmon took the package and shoved it into my hands. "Here. A pair of balls," he said, before turning on his heel and making his exit.

Now alone in my study with a distressed woman, I squared my shoulders and prepared to be her knight in shining armor before following her into the study.

"Apologies, Ms. O'Prey, but Arthur was merely doing his due diligence. It's a security issue, you see," I said, giving her my most empathetic look as I fought every male instinct in my body to make a pass at her.

Already seated in the armchair before my desk, she folded her arms and crossed her legs. Her dress rose up to her mid thigh and, like some schoolboy, I promptly looked away.

"I just want my phone, Mr. Hunter," she said, with puppy dog eyes, looking for all the world like she was on the brink of tears.

I almost caved then and there and handed her the package, but protocol was protocol and the privacy of my guests was my primary responsibility and objective.

"As you are aware, Ms. O'Prey, for the safety and privacy of all our guests, no cellphones are allowed on the island," I reminded her with a shrug.

"What? That's absurd. Coming here is like making a deal with the devil. My whole life is on the line here," she complained.

And queue the return of the temper. Her turn of phrase got me thinking. No doubt I wouldn't get a chance like this again. She was practically begging me to use the situation to my advantage. Time to shoot my shot.

"You're in luck, Ms. O'Prey. I'm going to the mainland tomorrow for a business meeting. Would you like to accompany me to settle your affairs there?"

She stared daggers at me, suddenly on guard, giving me a suspicious look. Rightfully so. Had she been half as drunk as the night I met her, I would have had her right where she sat. What a fool I was to walk away that night. Was the universe giving me a second chance?

"What's in it for you?" she asked, catching me stealing a glimpse at her thighs. Her legs uncrossed and she rose, as calmly as she could muster. "I don't know what you think happened when we met, but whatever it is that's happening in your head, I'm not interested."

She smoothed out the skirt of her dress and left the study.