Neither Alexei nor anyone associated with him had been in contact with her since she left New York. She supposed she could have looked up the number for his corporation and tried to get Emilio on the line, but then it didn’t really seem right that the onus of showing up for two-week sex slave duty should be on her. However, when she woke on Sunday morning with still no emails or voicemails about where she was supposed to be and when, she began to wonder if Alexei hadn’t been bluffing. Maybe he had never planned to let the Drummond Oil headquarters stay in Texas. Maybe he had just wanted to see if she’d really agree to his proposal.
She shook her head in disgust with herself. How could she have been so naïve? He was a billionaire who dated modelesque women who were always up for threesomes. Why would he choose to spend his two-week vacation with her? Of course he had been messing with her, she decided.
But just as she was about to start unpacking, a knock sounded on the front door. A few seconds later, she opened it to find Emilio on the wrap-around front porch.
“So, I guess this is actually happening then,” she said when she saw him. “I’d half convinced myself he was bluffing.”
“Yeah, if you knew Lex, you’d know once he says something’s happening, it’s happening.”
“So he sent you all the way out here to pick me up? Isn’t that a little below your pay grade?”
If Emilio felt the same way about the situation, he didn’t let it show on his face. “He only sends me on non-business related errands when he wants to make sure they get done to his specifications.”
She was about to ask what exactly Alexei had “specified” for this particular errand, but he beat her to the punch with, “You ready to go?”
“Sure, just let me get my suitcase.”
Emilio shook his head. “Special orders. Nothing bigger than a purse.”
Eva blinked. “Wait, he’s forbidden me to bring a suitcase of my own clothing?”
Emilio looked very uncomfortable now. “Yeah, he has. But if it makes you feel any better, everything you need will be provided for you when you reach your destination.”
That in no way made her feel any better. “I don’t want everything provided for me. I want my own things. I can’t believe this.” But she stopped herself before she could go into full hysterics. It wasn’t Emilio’s fault his boss was a complete dick.
“Fine,” she said through gritted teeth. “Let me just get my purse then.”
Less than thirty minutes later, she and Emilio climbed aboard Alexei’s plane.
“You should sit there,” he said, indicating a white leather seat on the left side of the plane, which had a manila folder placed on it.
She picked up the folder and tried to hand it to him. “Is this yours?
Emilio didn’t take it from her. “No, that’s definitely meant for you,” he said, shifting awkwardly before making a big deal of sitting in the seat across from her.
She opened the folder to find a single print-out indicating Alexei Rustanov had been tested for several sexually transmitted diseases, and the reports had all come back clean. Then it was her turn to cover her embarrassment by taking her seat.
Her cheeks were still burning by the time the plane took off. She really couldn’t have been more furious with herself for somehow managing to get re-involved with a man like Alexei Rustanov.
Chapter Eight
EVA had thrown her passport in her purse just in case, but she had expected Alexei’s plane to take her back to New York, where she’d figured he’d hole her up in a penthouse made entirely of glass while he did whatever he wanted to her for the next two weeks. So she was surprised when the plane began to descend just an hour after take off.
She looked out the window and saw a coastal island, which she decided must be South Padre, since there weren’t that many islands located only an hour’s plane ride from Drummond. A few minutes later she found out her guess had been right when a grey-haired limo driver greeted Emilio and she at the bottom of the small plane’s stairs.
“Welcome to South Padre Island, Miss St. James,” the driver said before turning to Emilio and saying, “Welcome back, Mr. Alvarez.”
So Alexei had decided their tryst should go down on Texas largest barrier island? South Padre was a known party destination, a place that attracted mostly college kids on spring break and families who didn’t want to go as far as the Caribbean. She wondered why a billionaire with access to any number of glamorous locales would choose to spend his vacation there.
“Does Alexei spend a lot of time here?” she asked Emilio when they were settled in the back seat of the limo.
“No.” Perhaps sensing she needed it, Emilio poured Eva two fingers of bourbon and handed it to her. “But he does own the resort you’ll be staying at.”
She blinked hard for the second time that day. “Say what now?”
Fifteen minutes later, she received her answer when she stepped out of the limo and saw The R resort. Even though it looked like it had undergone a rather expensive remodel, Eva recognized the location as the old Surfside Hotel, which was where she had been planning to spend Spring Break before her father cut her off. The weekend after that disastrous dinner, she’d not only moved in with Alexei but also called the fellow SSW grad student who had coordinated their trip to South Padre to say she wouldn’t be able to go.
She could still remember Alexei regarding her with mournful eyes when she got off the phone. “I wish to have money for you,” he’d said. “Then I send you on this trip and maybe go with you, da? I am sorry I cannot do this. You deserve more.”
She’d masked her disappointment about the trip, which she’d really been looking forward to, and said, “I’d much rather stay here with you for the break, anyway. And nobody really deserves a trip to stupid South Padre Island.”
But he shook his head and insisted, “No, one day I will find a way to give this trip back to you. I promise.”
And now he owned the hotel she was originally supposed to stay at.
She craned her neck upward to take in the entire structure. Man, when Alexei decided to show somebody, he really showed them.
Emilio escorted her up the elevator and past two large and burly guards, both sporting shaved heads, to the penthouse suite. The R, a luxury hotel that sat many stories above and far outshined the nearby competition, was owned in-full by the Rustanov Enterprises.
As it turned out, Eva had been right. Alexei had decided to hole her up in his penthouse. Only it was located at the top of this hotel as opposed to in New York. When Emilio showed her into the suite, she could barely believe her eyes. Unlike his office in New York, this space was warm and inviting, decorated in a sumptuous red and gold color scheme that made it feel more like a palace than a room in a hotel known for hosting well-heeled spring breakers. At least half of the penthouse was taken up by a living room, which featured a standard-sized pool, of all things, complete with deck chairs and a small bar. There were also plate glass windows providing a 180-degree unobstructed view of the island. She went to the Texas-facing side of the suite and swore she could see all the way to Corpus Christi.