Read Online Private 02 - Private Paradise by Jami Alden - Free Book Online

shuttered it. But it was enough to trigger an apology more than ten years in the making.
    “ There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret the way I ended it with you.”
    “ I don't want to talk about this,” Carla said, heading for the door.
    Sam grabbed her and pushed her back into her chair, standing over her so she couldn't escape. “No. You cut me off before, but I need to say this.”
    She sat, stiffly, as Sam knelt in front of her, his hands on the arms of her chair effectively blocking her in. Her face was as pale and stiff as marble, her gaze locked on a point past his shoulder as she refused to meet his gaze.
    Sam powered through, unable to stop the words from bursting to the surface. “Even thinking about it makes me sick to my stomach. But you have to know, I did it because I didn't want you to throw your life away over a loser like me. I didn't want to see your disappointment when you realized what a massive mistake you'd made.”
    He paused, waiting for her response.
    “ Are you finished?” she asked in a voice chilly enough to form ice crystals on her lips.
    Sam pushed to his feet, a lead weight forming in his stomach as he realized how completely she had closed him out. “I just need you to know the truth. I really cared for you, Carla. You were and are beautiful, kind, and smart, and way better than I deserved.”
    She straightened in her chair, shifting in her seat as though shaking off a layer of dust. “Well, there's something we can agree on at least,” she said in a falsely bright tone. “And while I'm happy you got that off your chest, an apology really wasn't necessary. Like I said before, I'd all but forgotten about what happened between us.”
    It was on the tip of his tongue to argue that she wouldn't have accused him of scheming to bang every guest in sight if it was so far back in her memory banks. but before he could say a word, she was up out of her chair and calling Bryce back into the office to start their meeting as though Sam hadn't just spilled his guts all over the place.
    A week later, there wasn't so much as a crack in Carla's cool facade.
    While he, Sam thought as he pounded out a mile on the treadmill in the resort's gym, had come to the conclusion that working with Carla was torture. Absolute, fucking torture. And damned if he could find a way out.
    When they interacted, Carla was all cool politeness and courtesy, treating Sam like he was nothing more than some distant acquaintance, someone she wouldn't have even remembered had he not reappeared in her life.
    While Sam was resorting to this, he thought as he started another punishing circuit of the resort's state of the art gym: a six minute mile on the treadmill, followed by fifty each pull ups, sit ups, pushups, and squat thrusts. Over and over every single morning because this was the only way he could deal with the simmering ache of frustrated desire that dogged him every second of every day he spent with Carla. So close, so unreachable.
    Every time he sat across her desk from her as they discussed particular strategies for their high profile guests, he had to fight not to reach out and grab her, lay her across the wide wooden surface. Make her remember everything they were to each other and all the ways he knew how to make her scream with pleasure.
    Every time he watched a male guest run his eyes appreciatively over Carla's toned, curvy body, Sam had to fight not to put the guy in a headlock. It was getting so bad, Sam actually considered doing it just so she'd have a legitimate excuse to fire him.
    While she was apparently able to dismiss what had happened between them like it had never occurred, Sam was going batshit crazy, living in an agony of frustrated desire. He'd always thought people who claimed you never got over your first love were crazy. But now...
    Whoa. Let's not get ahead of ourselves. Just because you're still dying to fuck Carla DeLuca at age thirty-two doesn't mean you feel the same way you did