Page 9 of Try Me

So Familiar

Declan

Declan shovedhis finger under his tie and ripped it off, desperate to get a breath. He could feel the Duke invitation in his suit pocket, close to his heart, pulsing with a beat of its own. He’d been so distracted by the thought of going back home that he’d accidentally recited the same speech he’d given a few weeks earlier when he’d won at Cabo San Lucas. His mind had gone completely blank, and he’d only realized his mistake when he’d spotted McKenna in the audience giving him the stink eye and signaling for him to shut up.

Declan wasn’t too worried about anyone else picking up on his blunder. Chances were the others were too drunk to be paying any attention. Not that he cared what they thought, anyway.

He couldn’t stop thinking about the envelope in his pocket. He still hadn’t opened it, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to read the invitation. If he read it, then it would be real, and he would be forced to make a decision.

On one hand, surfing in the Duke was his greatest desire. On the other, facing Sunset Beach was his worst nightmare.

After a brief check-in with Claudia and another round of drinks, Declan headed once again for the privacy of the patio. He hoped to clear his head enough to think, but on the way out, he saw something that made him change directions.

Her.

The most beautiful woman in the world. Declan had first saw her yesterday morning before the contest started. She’d been surfing the heavy waves with such effortless grace that he’d thought for a moment she was a mirage. There was something familiar about her. Even from far away, Declan could see that she was Hawaiian. With a heavy heart, Declan thought he might know her from home. Had he met her during what he thought of as the dark days when he’d done nothing but drink all day? His memory was riddled with holes from that period. If he’d met her, he might not remember her.

Nah. He would definitely remember her.

He wouldn’t forget a woman who looked like that. Her dark hair and eyes, athletic body, and confident posture reminded Declan of the drawings he’d seen of the Hawaiian goddess Pele. She could have been ripped from the pages of a Hawaiian folktale.

There was no way Declan could forget a woman who looked as good as she did and surfed like a female version of Keoni Makai.

Sam Henderson stepped between Declan and the woman, and then they were walking away together. Declan felt a spark of jealousy ignite in his belly. What was a woman like her doing with a troll like Sam Henderson?

Declan watched with a sharp eye as Sam put his hands on her and pulled her into a hallway. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as he got a glimpse of the frown on the woman’s face. Was it his imagination, or had she looked less than eager to follow Sam into the shadows? She hadn’t looked like a woman who wanted to make time in a dark hallway. She’d looked like a woman who wanted to get away.

But it was none of his business, was it? He had been ignoring his own date all night. He should probably be keeping an eye on Claudia, not interfering with another woman. Declan knew how rowdy these parties could get. He should really get back to his date.

Even as he thought of Claudia, Declan found himself striding toward the darkened hallway.

He knew he shouldn’t get involved, but the woman had struck a chord in him. She reminded him of home. He would at least check on her. If she was happy to be with Sam, he would leave them alone. But if she wasn’t happy to be with Sam, he would gladly ram his fist down the man’s mouth.

After the emotional upheaval of receiving the invitation to the Duke, Declan needed a release. Punching Sam would do nicely.

Declan came around the corner in time to see the woman shove Sam in the chest, then pop up in a fighting stance, fists raised and ready.

Sam’s laughter rumbled, but it was a short-lived sound cut off by the heel of her hand to his throat.

Declan hurried forward, ready to take over, but he was too slow. By the time he crossed the few feet that separated them, the woman had delivered a series of quick punches that put Sam on his ass, blood spurting from his nose.

Sam clapped a hand over his face, and blood stained his fingers. “You broke my nose.”

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” she said, fists bunched in preparation for round two.

Sam lunged to his feet. Instead of dancing away, she moved into him, ramming her knee between his legs. Sam went down, and this time, stayed there.

Just to make sure Sam didn’t get any ideas, Declan strode over and yanked him up by the neck. “You wanna fight someone your own size?” he hissed in Sam’s face, then shoved him toward the back door.

“She broke my nose,” Sam whined.

“You’re lucky she didn’t do more,” Declan said, pushing Sam through the door.

A group of reporters who had been lounging by the front door smoking cigarettes and waiting for a bit of action caught sight of them and scrambled to take pictures.

Declan shoved Sam and told him to get lost.

“I’m leaving,” Sam yelled, both hands covering his face as blood continued to pour down his nose. “That bitch is all yours.”

---