Free Beauty Ravished by Celeste Anwar Page A

in urns rustled in the shifting breeze, touching her leg as she passed too close. A porch swing hanging at one end creaked and slowly moved on its chains, as if recently vacated, but she saw no one enjoying the picture perfect view from the top.
    Strangely enough, she hadn’t noticed any women on the island, she realized abruptly. Then again, she hadn’t come across any of the guests, just from afar. Of course, she and Sheri had assumed this invitation was to one of those parties where they tried to sell you expensive condos, so it could be the women were off touring while the men lazed about. Who knew?
    Wide, glass paneled doors marked the entrance, and Cherry pulled them open and strode into the lobby. The large open area was filled with coral and sea foam brocaded chairs and couches arranged in small groups for private conversations. Muted bulbs lit the space, giving it a soft, welcoming glow. Along one wall stood a marble-top counter and luggage station, but she saw no concierge or bell hops.
    Puzzled by the absence of hotel staff, Cherry headed for it anyway. She hadn’t taken but a few steps toward the empty counter when a soft, accusing voice spoke behind her, “What are you doin’? You don’ belong here.”
    The deep, accented baritone slid a frisson of alarm up her spine, unnerving her. Cherry turned slowly around, trying to appear as if she did belong. Maybe it was just supposed to be men here and they’d thought Sheri a man somehow?
    Her heart seized as her gaze landed on the owner’s voice. He was standing at the foot of the stairs, leaning against the baluster. She’d read clichés in books her entire life about meeting the man of your dreams, the epitome of how a man should look and move—and they were so true, down to the smallest reaction. She could barely breathe, barely comprehend anything around her—her entire focus was directed on the stranger. Even his accusation was lost as her mind stumbled around, taking in his every feature.
    He looked like he’d just come from the beach, and she thought she could even detect the scent of salt water in the air, but surely it was her imagination. His skin was a dark olive, richly tanned and captivating against the open-necked white shirt he wore. He looked as though he’d just shrugged it on, for only half the buttons had been fastened, and even at the distance, she caught a glimpse of toned chest. His black hair was wet, finger combed back off his forehead, but a few random locks had escaped and fell across his brow in rakish disarray.
    He sent her a narrow-eyed glare across the room. When she didn’t answer—or move to leave—he strode across the floor and stopped directly in front of her, invading her space until she was forced a step back just to look up at him. Up close, he was fiercer than she’d imagined possible, potent, like the bars of a cage had just been raised.
    “Excuse me?” she managed in spite of her suddenly dry mouth. Oh god . Green, intense eyes looked down at her beneath straight, angry brows. His was the kind of look that sent women in one of two directions—either straight to his bed or home to her own to huddle beneath the covers. She was torn. On the one hand, her galloping heart was commanding her feet to do the same and flee before she was devoured. On the other, the moment the word ‘devoured’ entered her mind, her pussy went into melt down and her knees turned to jelly.
    She wasn’t sure why her reaction was so extreme, but she sensed that this man was dangerous in ways she couldn’t even begin to imagine. Despite the trappings of civilization he seemed … savage, his manner inherently untamed.
    He crossed his arms over his chest, making his shirt gape. The movement drew her gaze like the needle on a compass. Her belly clenched as she stared at his pecs, sculpted to perfection, covered with a sprinkling of hair. “Why are you here?”
    “I received an invitation ….”
    “No, you didn’t,” he said