His San Diego Sweetheart

After her Adonis had come out of the sea, Miranda had left the beach and gone to a nearby café for a cool beverage. It was casually chic and she hoped offered a good drink. It wasn’t like she’d been dressed for the beach anyway. Her lace sheath dress was definitely not beach attire and as for her pumps, she was still trying to get the sand out of them.

“Can I get you another drink?” the bartender inquired. “It’s happy hour now and cocktails are half priced.” When she didn’t answer quickly, the bartender walked away to help another customer.

Miranda glanced down at the pomegranate martini she’d been nursing since she arrived. She’d only been in San Diego for twenty-four hours. Her best friend, Sasha Charles, had picked her up from the airport last night and deposited her at her hotel. Sasha had offered Miranda to stay at her place, but Miranda had been adamant that she didn’t want to put her friend out. That wasn’t the real reason. She didn’t want to share her real plans with Sasha because she knew Sasha wouldn’t approve. And so she’d opted to stay at a hotel instead. It was an elegantly appointed hotel that would suffice for what she hoped was a short stay.

Miranda was hoping that she could find Mr. Right quickly enough that she would meet the one-month deadline looming over her head, before her inheritance was given away. Her parents, Tucker and Leigh, were just as upset as she was by her grandfather’s stipulation. She’d been hoping to find a loophole, but her attorneys had been unsuccessful. And now desperate times called for desperate measures.

She was just about to order another martini when the surf god from this morning came strolling into the café. He sat down at the far end of the bar away from her and talked to the bartender. Given the easy rapport they shared, they must know each other.

She allowed herself a few minutes to adjust to seeing him fully dressed. But this time, he was no less potent than he’d been on the beach earlier. In fact, she’d say he was more so. Her devastatingly sexy stranger had closely cropped black hair, an angular face that held bushy eyebrows and facial hair that was more than a five-o’clock shadow, but not a full beard, and the dreamiest eyes she’d ever seen. He was dressed in distressed jeans that clung to a gloriously tight behind, from what Miranda recalled, and a graphic T-shirt that hugged his defined biceps. Miranda couldn’t forget how delectable his body had looked earlier and licked her lips in remembrance.

Why was she having such a reaction to this man?

He clearly didn’t have a nine-to-five job. Why else would he have been at the beach when most people were at work? And here he was again, which told her that he could be exactly the sort of man who could be compelled by the promise of a hefty cash payout.

Decision made, she slid off the bar stool with as much modesty as she could in a dress, grasped her purse dangling from the stool and moved toward her mysterious stranger. What was the worst he could do? Brush her off? He’d done that earlier and she was no worse for the wear.

“Ahem.” Miranda coughed loudly, bringing her right hand to her mouth.

He glanced up from his conversation, but didn’t make any effort to speak. Instead his dark eyes gleamed like glassy volcanic rock as he boldly raked her from the top of her hair to her now aching feet. Pumps were definitely not made for all the walking she’d done today. “Are you done with your appraisal?” Miranda inquired. Flirting could work to her benefit if it garnered his interest. Though he would soon find out she had an agenda.

“Nearly.” He continued to scan her critically for several more moments before he beamed his approval and looked her dead in the eye.

“And?”

A perplexed look crossed his features. “And what?”

“Do you like what you see?” Miranda inquired.

“Yes. Yes, I do very much.”

Miranda’s insides jangled with excitement as she slid onto the bar stool beside him. The bartender came to her immediately. “Have you decided if you’d like another?”

“Actually, I’d like something stronger.” She turned to her companion. “What would you recommend?”

He grinned a delicious, stomach-curling smile. “Max, get her a bourbon, same as me.” He swiveled around to face her. “It’s a bit strong, but I think you’ll like it.”

“I like strong,” Miranda countered. “Men, that is.”

“Is that a fact?”

She smiled coquettishly. “It is indeed. I noticed you earlier surfing.” She inclined her head toward the beach that was about a hundred yards away.

“And did you like what you saw?”

She raised a brow. He’d seen her watching him, so she answered honestly. “You know I did. It was quite entertaining watching you out there.”

“And afterward?”

An image of him in the wet suit flashed across Miranda’s mind. “The view wasn’t bad either.”

Her stranger laughed heartily and Miranda liked the sound of it. It was deep and masculine and the very air around her seemed electrified being next to him.

“Well, aren’t you a breath of fresh air. You actually say what’s on your mind.”

“Miranda.” She extended her hand. “Miranda Jensen.”

“Vic Elliott.” His grip was strong and his hands were massive, swallowing her small ones in his. “Pleasure to meet you, Miranda. And here’s your drink.” He motioned to the bar where the bartender had placed her drink along with another bourbon for him. He held up his glass and she did the same. “Cheers.”

He tapped his glass against hers and watched her take a sip. His gaze was so compelling that Miranda had to focus on sipping her drink. It was as strong as he said it would be, but she needed liquid courage. “I like it.”

“A lady after my own heart.”

“And would there be any other ladies of your heart?” she inquired. Better she know now what she was up against than waste her time with a man who wasn’t available.

He gave her a sideward glance. “There’s no one special.”

“How about some dinner?” Miranda inquired. “Since I’m new to San Diego, you choose.”

“Would love to.”

* * *

Vaughn liked Miranda Jensen. She was open and direct. He appreciated her honesty. She knew what she wanted and wasn’t afraid to put all her cards on the table. He liked that she’d approached him in the café. She seemed unconcerned about what he did for a living or how much money he made. Twice today, she’d seen him, first at the beach and now at the café. She probably thought he was a drifter she could have a one-night stand with while on a business trip to San Diego. And that was just fine with him. She was a fine-looking woman and he wouldn’t mind getting better acquainted with her. In or out of bed.

After they finished their bourbons, Vaughn decided to take Miranda to a local seafood spot that had the best crab claws in town. Rather than drive his Ferrari and call out the fact that he was loaded, Vaughn opted for an Uber. When he was getting to know a woman and to weed out gold diggers only interested in his money, he usually gave minimal details about himself, including the name Vic Elliott. In the Navy, his men had nicknamed him Vic and it stuck, so Vaughn used it along with an abbreviated version of his last name.

“Hope you don’t mind getting dirty?” Vaughn said as the Uber driver drove them to the restaurant. His thigh was inches from hers and he could feel himself getting further and further turned on by this woman and they hadn’t even touched yet.

“I don’t mind,” Miranda said. “In fact, the dirtier the better. Though I do wish I’d opted to change clothes.” She glanced down at her attire.

“Why?” Vaughn asked, glancing in her direction. “You look beautiful.”

“But a bit overdressed for the beach, right?” She laughed.

He smiled. “A bit—that’s what makes you so adorable.” He reached across the short distance between them and tucked a wayward strand of hair that had fallen in her face behind her ear. When she glanced up at him, her eyes were filled with desire. Vaughn wanted to sweep his mouth across hers and taste her, but the car came to a stop.

“We’re here!” she said brightly.

Yes, we are, Vaughn thought. If the car hadn’t come to a halt, it was a certainty he would have acted on the rampant desire he felt for Miranda.

* * *

He’d been about to kiss her; Miranda was absolutely sure of that fact. The way he’d looked at her with those searing dark eyes that seemed to read into her soul told her so. And she would have let him. Hadn’t her heart been hammering in her chest, just sitting beside him, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder? Even though they’d only known each other barely an hour. She would have let this handsome and sexy stranger have his way with her.

What would that have been like? Would his kiss have been soft and sweet? Or hard and hungry?

She needed to get control of herself.

She wasn’t here for romantic entanglements. She needed a husband—and quick. This man looked like he wasn’t desperate for money, but wouldn’t mind some extra cash in the bank. And it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t bad on the eyes either. Not that her marriage would be a real one. She had no intentions of consummating the marriage. They would only stay together long enough to ensure her inheritance before going their separate ways. But first, she had to ask him.

After exiting the car, Vic led her inside the seafood restaurant with his hand lightly resting on the small of her back as he propelled her forward. It was in no way untoward, but Miranda felt it all the same. He kept it there until they were seated and he’d scooted her chair underneath her before taking his own.

“You’re quite the gentleman.”

He grinned. “My mama taught me how to treat a lady.”

“Sounds like she’s a wise woman,” Miranda offered.

“She’s an amazing woman.” The way he said it told Miranda that he was close with his mother. A man who had a good relationship with his mama was always a good sign.

After the waiter filled their water glasses and took their drink orders, Vic immediately begin firing questions at her. “So where are you from, Miranda?”

“Chicago.”

“And what do you do there?”

“I work in the hotel industry,” she responded.

“And what brings you to the West Coast?”

“I have a pressing business matter that I’ve put off for far too long and now it requires my attention.”

He laughed and shrugged off her evasiveness. “That’s rather vague, but you don’t have to share. I understand the need for anonymity.”

“And what is it that you do?” Miranda inquired. If he was going to put her on the hot seat, why shouldn’t she return the favor?

“I used to be in the Navy, but now I surf.”

“Why the Navy?”

“If you couldn’t tell, I love the ocean and the sea. Quite frankly I’ve never felt at home anywhere else except on the water. It’s a part of me.”

“I’ve a laundry list of places I’d love to go to, but I imagined you’ve traveled the world extensively while in the Navy.”

“It did afford me certain luxuries, but we usually weren’t there long enough to truly take in the culture. Now Chicago, on the other hand, I’d steer clear of. I can’t imagine living in the Midwest and having to deal with all that cold and snow. How do you do it?”

Miranda shrugged. “I suppose you get used to it. Have you always lived in California?”

Vic nodded. “It’s close to the ocean, just how I like it.”

The waiter returned with their drinks and they continued happily chatting about Vic’s travels until dinner came. Miranda was a good sport when the waiter put bibs on both her and Vic so their clothes wouldn’t get soiled. A platter of succulent crab claws with mustard sauce and Lyonnaise potatoes were placed in front of them.

“You have to try this.” Vic reached for a crab claw and after dipping it in the mustard concoction, he leaned over the table and fed it to Miranda. Her eyes grew large at the romantic gesture and she toyed with the idea of not accepting, but in the end, she grasped Vic’s large hand in hers and bit into the crab, taking a large chunk into her mouth.

Vic sat back in his chair, but his eyes never lost hers as a sigh of ecstasy escaped her lips at the sweetness of the crab meat and tanginess of the mustard sauce. Desire zinged through her and Miranda knew a blush had to be tinting her cheeks.

“That’s delicious...”

“I know, right?” The tone of his vice was jovial, but the look on Vic’s face was anything but. It was a hungry look. A look that told Miranda she’d awakened the beast. She watched him place a small heap of potatoes on her plate. And thank God for it. Miranda was completely tongue-tied. She’d known she was attracted to Vic. And it scared her. If she chose this man—there was no way theirs would be a marriage of convenience.

Chapter 2

“I had a lovely evening,” Miranda said when Vic insisted on seeing her back to the hotel and walking her to her room. She knew what he was up to. He wanted to get in her pants and as much as that scenario would ease the sexual tension that had been flying between them throughout the night, it wouldn’t solve her current situation.

Vic was a viable candidate for a husband, but she couldn’t let her hormones run away with her, despite how much she wanted to. And boy, did she want this man something fierce. She’d love to have free and unfettered access to roam her hands up and down his chiseled body, to relish him taking her to new heights, because her intuition told her Vic knew how to please a woman in the bedroom. All that patience waiting for the perfect wave. There was no way he was a slam-bam-thank-you-ma’am kind of man. He’d take his time exploring every sensual side of her nature.

They walked in silence after exiting the elevator. Neither of them too keen on talking. Even though they’d done just that for hours. They’d actually shut down the restaurant, only leaving when it closed. Miranda had thoroughly enjoyed her evening with Vic much more than she would have guessed when she slid off her bar stool at the beachside café and introduced herself.

And now they were here.

At her door.

Miranda took an extraordinary amount of time fumbling to find the hotel card, but when she did, she didn’t use it. Instead, she spun around to face Vic. He’d moved closer to her during that short time and now he was a breath away from her, a tantalizing breath.

“Vic...”

He pulled her into his arms and she was surprised when she didn’t object. Instead, she allowed him to come closer and mold his body to hers until every inch of their lower bodies were touching. Then his head lowered until his forehead was touching hers. Miranda’s breath caught in her chest.

God, how she wished she was one of those women who could bed a man and walk away the next day, but she wasn’t. Furthermore, her situation didn’t allow her to have a weak moment and have a night of passion with Vic. She had to think with a clear head and not with other body parts.

“Ask me in,” Vic whispered huskily. “You know you want to.”

He was right.

She did.

She wanted him desperately, but tomorrow morning she’d be in the same boat she’d been in yesterday. Or maybe even worse. Vic was dangerous. He was the kind of man she could fall for, lose her head over when practicality was needed here.

“I should go inside.” She pushed against his rock-hard chest and Vic released her.

“If that’s what you want.”

She didn’t dare look up at him, because he’d know it was a lie. So Miranda kept her head low and murmured, “Yes, it is.” Then she quickly used the card to let herself in the hotel room and immediately closed the door.

But not before she caught a glimpse of Vic’s stunned expression and his last words. “I’ll call you.”

* * *

Did Miranda really just close the door in his face? Vaughn stood staring at her hotel door in stunned disbelief. Was he losing his touch?

He’d felt her heat when he’d pressed her against him. Her body had reacted to his, instantly molding itself against his. She’d wanted him too, but for some damn reason she was denying herself—hell, the both of them—a night of mind-blowing sex. Because that was exactly what she would have had in store. He’d been nursing an erection on and off for half the night and that was just from a brush of his hand across her back, accidental foot play underneath the table or a look from Miranda from across the table. If he’d had all night with her, she wouldn’t have slept. He would have made sure to explore every inch of her body from head to toe.

But alas, he wasn’t getting that chance.

She’d closed the door, and if he wasn’t mistaken, locked it.

Was she locking it to keep herself from opening it or from letting him in?

Shaking his head, Vaughn headed to the elevators. He just couldn’t understand how he’d gotten his signals crossed. And what possessed him to say he’d call her? Maybe he should leave well enough alone and move on to greener pastures.

The elevator doors chimed and opened. Vaughn stepped inside.

As the doors closed, Vaughn knew he wouldn’t move on. Miranda Jensen had intrigued him and not many women did. And it wasn’t just the chase that had turned him on; he wanted to know more about her. Throughout the night, he realized they’d talked more about general topics than they had anything personal. Miranda had been cagey about revealing any personal details other than her name and job title, which made Vaughn’s antenna come on high alert. She may not be interested in his wealth, but she was certainly hiding something.

And Vaughn wanted to know what it was.

But more importantly, he wanted Miranda. And he would have her.

* * *

There was no trace of Vic Elliott. He didn’t exist.

After returning from the amazing dinner she’d shared with the man, Miranda had decided to Google him. Find out more about this mysterious stranger who had captured her attention since emerging from the sea. But she couldn’t find a single thing about him. There wasn’t a record of Vic anywhere online. She’d tried several spellings of his name, including using Victor, and still her results had been fruitless.

He’d lied to her about something as fundamental as who he was.

How could she have been so blind yet again?

Was she destined to be a loser when it came to picking the right man? It stung because Miranda was sure she’d seen something in Vic that was special, something that she’d never encountered before with the other men she’d dated. Over drinks and dinner, they’d shared true companionship, laughing and talking about a number of topics from sports to politics to religion. Though she was woefully out of her league when it came to sports. Instead, Vic hadn’t made her feel dumb or stupid and they’d even discussed catching a game.

Now she knew he’d been lying the entire time.

But had she been that open? No. But at least she’d given him her real name. If he wanted to find out more just as she was researching him, he could. If he was interested, but he couldn’t have been if he’d lied to her. He was probably married and had given her a fake name in the hopes she’d spend the night with him. And her traitorous body had wanted to. Oh how she wanted to indulge in all the desires of the flesh. His sinful flesh.

His hard, lean body had been made for a woman’s touch. Of that, Miranda was sure.

Except she wouldn’t be partaking because Vic, whatever his name, wasn’t hers. She sighed. It had been nice to wonder what if, if only for a little while.

* * *

The next morning, Vaughn was up with the birds. Images of the raven-haired beauty from the beach had dominated his dreams, causing him to toss and turn in his king-size bed. Eventually, he’d thrown back the covers and, after brushing his teeth and showering, donned an Elite wet suit and gone to the beach. He dove into the waves. Whenever he needed to clear his mind, surfing was a good cure-all. He could lose himself in the powerful forces of Mother Nature and forget whatever it was that ailed him such as a certain body part which ached to be released.

Vaughn couldn’t remember the last time he’d had an erection that had gone unsatisfied. Usually, when he was with a female, the night would come to its inevitable conclusion, him in the arms of a beautiful woman.

Not last night.

Miranda Jensen had rebuffed his advances, sending him home with a hard-on like some love-struck teenager. And it irked him. Not because she’d turned him down, which, although rare, could happen. He was rankled because he knew Miranda wanted him equally as much as he wanted her, but instead she’d made them both miserable by pushing him away. The question was why?

There had to be more to the story and he would find out.

Several hours later after returning home to shower, Vaughn drove to his office. Elite’s headquarters were located a few blocks away from La Jolla Shore’s beach. Most of his staff wore shorts, T-shirts and sneakers because Vaughn wanted a laid-back vibe at the office and found it made for productive workers. They appreciated not only the dress code, but the free healthy snacks catered by a local food truck, the coffee bar as well as a game and nap room onsite. He treated his employees well and consequently had their loyalty.

He greeted his assistant, Kindra, as he stopped by her desk. Kindra was one of the sweetest girls he’d ever met. She had a wholesome, all-American quality to her five-foot-five, blonde appearance. She was athletically built, wore no makeup and rarely had he seen her in anything other than a skirt, but she was the best help he’d ever found.

“I’m surprised to see you here,” Kindra said. “I’d have thought with today’s forecast you’d be catching some waves.”

Vaughn grinned. She knew him so well. “I already did.”

“So you thought you’d come in and do a little work?”

“If that’s okay with you?” He gave her a wink.

She shrugged. “You’re the boss.” Kindra followed him inside his office and caught him up to date on what he’d missed that morning. Once he was up to speed, Vaughn dismissed her so he could open his laptop and satisfy his curiosity.

He typed Miranda Jensen into his browser and searched.

He was shocked by what came up.

Miranda was no gold digger on the hunt for her latest meal. She was a wealthy heiress from a prominent Chicago family. He went on to read how her grandfather had made a killing in the finance world and as his sole granddaughter, she was due to inherit millions.

Vaughn leaned back in his chair and rubbed his beard. So he hadn’t been the only one not being completely truthful. Although she’d shared that she was from the Windy City, Miranda hadn’t mentioned she was an heiress. Was she just as cognizant as he of men’s less than altruistic motives when it came to dating her?

Who knew they had so much in common?

It certainly eased Vaughn’s fears about revealing his true identity to her, when she was clearly rich several times over. It made what he was about to do very easy.

* * *

“I’m so excited you’re in town,” Sasha Charles told Miranda when they met for lunch at noon. Miranda was excited to finally spend time with her dear friend. Since college, they’d only seen each other on the odd girls’ weekend, but to have quality time to seriously catch up was worth the trip to San Diego alone.

“Me too,” Miranda responded. “It seems like I haven’t seen you in ages.”

Sasha laughed. “It has been a while. The last time I saw you was when we went to that ski chalet in Colorado with our significant others.”

Miranda rolled her eyes. She remembered that trip and how she’d been besotted with Anthony, all the while he’d been looking at other women in skintight ski outfits. What a fool she’d been. And she was determined not to make the mistakes of the past. She’d narrowly avoided disaster with Vic, but luckily she’d led with her head instead of her libido. Otherwise, all she would have had to show for her efforts was a good lay. Now, she could continue her search for a husband.