[Invitation to Eden 20.0] The Island of Eden by Lauren Hawkeye Page A

rumbling beneath my feet.
    “Eden?” The woman paws at her hair, brushing it out of her face. “Am I on Eden? Did I make it?”
    “What did you say?” This is not the answer I’m expecting. By now, Miranda and Roan, two of my employees, have abandoned their casual stroll to join me on the beach. Miranda bends down to pick up a bag that has washed up as well. She opens it to find a camera and some kind of mini recorder.
    “She’s a reporter.” A sneer distorts her pretty face as she holds it up to me. My staff knows my aversion to public scrutiny, and because I am very lucky, they are also protective of me.
    There’s a time and place though, and something is swelling in my chest, threatening to rip free.
    “How did you get here?” I demand this, my body stiffening. Whoever she is, no matter that she just almost drowned, Joely can fly her right back out.
    I’m taken aback by the grin that I can just barely make out beneath the tangle of her hair as she slaps her hands against the wet sand. “Holy shit. I can’t believe I made it.”
    She bursts into laughter.
    I wonder if she isn’t a bit crazy.
    “Did you come by boat? Who else was with it?” Because surely she wasn’t stupid enough to set out on her own.
    Miranda also pulls out a thick, sopping wet file from the bag. She flips through it.  “She has a bunch of information about Eden and you, Sir.”
    My spine begins to tingle. I look down at the woman. She’s staring up at me defiantly through the wet strands of her hair. “Who are you?”
    I thread just the slightest hint of dominance through my tone... the kind that makes my submissives sit up just a bit straighter.
    This woman, though? She just smirks. “Noelle Davis.”
    She’s smirking at me? She almost died trying to sneak onto my private island and she’s smirking at me? “Are you a reporter?”
    “Maybe.” She tilts her head to look at me. “Are you the Master?”
    How the hell did she uncover that? I have more money than I could spend in ten lifetimes, and I’ve paid well to ensure that I stay hidden.
    “We’re going to get you dry, then my pilot will fly you back to Miami.” I can feel control spiraling out of my grip, all because of the defiant woman at my feet. This won’t do. Grabbing her hand, I pull her to her feet.
    The second our hands touch, I feel something sizzle through me—an electric shock that nearly knocks me to the ground. I yank my hand back, the shock reverberating up my arm, and she nearly falls.
    “Quite the welcome wagon, you are.” She eyes her own hand suspiciously before wiping it on her wet jeans.
    I wonder if she felt something too.
    I dismiss the thought almost immediately. I’m still off-kilter from my hopes, my meeting with Tessa Savage earlier. I’m reading into things that aren’t there.
    “I’m sure we can find you some dry clothing, then you are gone.” I glower, and she stares at me. I don’t quite know what to do with the fact that here is no fear in those bright blue eyes of hers. “No one is allowed onto this island without an invitation. It’s private property.”
    “You don’t really want me to tell people you turned your back on a poor, helpless woman in need of rescuing, do you?” She arches an eyebrow. I suspect she will make good on her word.
    “Forgive me for being frank, but you really don’t look like a woman who needs to be rescued.” I don’t care if she tries to tell the Queen of England. I’ll bury it, like I bury everything else.
    Didn’t bury everything though, did you? This insolent woman found you.
    Miss Noelle Davis puts her hands on her hips, her expression mocking. Damn it, I wish she’d brush the hair away from the upper half of her face. It’s irritating speaking to only half of her face. “I don’t. But no one else knows that.”
    Anger starts to churn inside like a storm on the sea. This is exactly why I don’t allow anyone that I haven’t thoroughly vetted onto the island—and never, ever