Free Wishful Sinful (Rock Royalty Book 5) by Christie Ridgway Page A

turns, and the driver came to a stop in front of a beachside bungalow surrounded by coconut trees and banana plants. Flowering shrubs flanked the front steps leading to the dwelling’s door. As Walsh climbed out, he noted the smell of the ocean and the complete sense of privacy.
    Her head twisting this way and that, Honey trailed the chauffeur who unlocked the front door and threw it open. On the threshold, his admin’s body stilled.
    Coming up behind her, he could see why.
    Through the glass back doors, the view was of the sun setting over the Pacific. It leant rosy tones to the large living area. Off each side he could see a bedroom. Hibiscus flowers were arranged in a spiral at the center of each duvet-covered mattress.
    A bowl of fruit sat on a nearby table and next to it champagne chilled in a bucket of ice.
    “There must be some mistake,” Honey said, her voice tight. “This looks like the honeymoon suite.”
    “No mistake,” their driver said, his expression offended. “This is yours.”
    “It’s very lovely, don’t get me wrong,” she said hastily, casting a look at Walsh. “But not suitable for us.”
    “This is yours,” the man insisted. He put card keys on the table and placed Walsh’s suitcase near the doorway of one of the bedrooms. With a murmured “Welcome” in Spanish, he left through the front door.
    Honey’s eyes were like saucers as she took another slow look at the environs. Tropical-styled furniture sat on tiled floors. A complete bar took up one corner, a flat screen TV and stereo system another.
    “I don’t think this is right,” she said, even as she walked toward the back doors and stared at the view of the waves rolling in.
    “There’s plenty of space for us both.” Secluded space. Perfect for secrets. Clandestine moments.
    Stolen kisses and caresses.
    Shit.
    He came up behind her, detecting a new scent on her skin. He’d noticed it all day. A note beyond her usual fresh soapiness that operated with stealthy effect on his libido. At first breath it smelled as wholesome as she was, but underneath it held a spicy, seductive quality.
    Honey glanced at him over her shoulder. “It’s not suitable for work.”
    But maybe it was perfectly suitable for what he needed―to prove himself the boss of his inconvenient, unwelcome urges. Taking in a breath, he told himself he knew what he had to do.
    Yeah, it was time.
    “I don’t see how we’ll get anything done,” she continued.
    “Don’t worry on that score.”
    She threw him a doubtful look. “Walsh—”
    “I’ll prove it to you. Get out your tablet or a notepad or something.”
    Moving away from the doors, she headed for where she’d left her laptop bag. “Why?”
    “I’ve come to a big decision.”
    From the soft-sided case she extracted paper and pen. “And that is…?”
    “I’ve decided it’s time I marry.” He watched the water, each wave rolling in calm and steady. Like he wanted his life. “So I need you to help me make a list.”
    She coughed. “A list of what?”
    “A list of the sensible qualities I want in the woman who will be my wife.”

Chapter 5
    Honey had never slept naked. That must be the cause of her restless night, despite the steady and dulcet lullaby the waves sang as they washed upon the sand. She’d climbed between the sheets wearing the terry robe she’d found hanging in the bathroom, but after five minutes and three turns, it had put her into a full-body strangle.
    So she’d struggled free from it and then spread out, flesh-to-cotton.
    But slumber still didn’t come. Instead, her mind replayed on a continuous reel those moments on the airplane after Walsh’s mouth touched hers.
    Staggered by that near-death experience—she’d been convinced the end was just seconds away—she’d responded without thinking, her mouth pressing hard to his. The tip of his tongue had brushed her bottom lip, and she’d opened to allow him to dive inside. The possessive, aggressive nature of it had