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  THE LOVE LAWS

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  Copyright © 2013 Tamara Larson

  Thank you for downloading The Love Laws.

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  Prologue

  Jamie Martin sighed, leaned back on her bare elbows, and dug her pink-polished toes deeper into the warm sand. This wasn’t a fantasy. She was actually in the Hawaiian paradise she’d always dreamed of visiting.

  All the props were there: a sugary secluded beach beneath her, a Technicolor sunset in front of her, and a positively delectable strawberry margarita balanced precariously on one pale knee. There were even some hard-bodied surfers in the distance to add to the total ambience, and yet she wasn’t content. Even here in modern Eden, she couldn’t stop thinking about her lingerie store, specifically what she would do if business didn’t pick up at Hidden Treasures soon.

  She shook her head as if to free it from dismal thoughts. Looking down she noticed that despite her platter-sized straw hat and SPF 50 suntan lotion her skin was definitely turning an alarming shade of pink.

  Jamie sighed and attempted to arrange her sarong over her legs, but it was no use, the square of aquamarine cotton barely covered her tiny blue crocheted bikini and that was usually the way she liked it—the more skin exposed the better. Of course, being from Vancouver, third degree burns from sun exposure wasn’t usually a problem.

  Jamie wasn’t here in Maui on vacation, at least not really. She was here for her twin sister’s wedding. Jessica Martin had vowed to love, honor, and cherish Detective Duncan Reinhold on this very beach just twenty-four hours ago. It had been a gorgeous, intimate ceremony, and Jamie felt tears gathering in her eyes at the memory.

  Jessie had looked so happy, so in love as she’d stared into Duncan’s eyes. The only thing missing had been their parents. Cal and June Martin had died four years before in a fatal car crash and both girls felt their absence keenly. Even their absence couldn’t seem to detract much from Jessie’s day, and for that, Jamie was eternally grateful, and just a wee bit envious.

  Duncan, her new brother-in-law, was not only incredibly gorgeous and kind; he was also out-of-his-head, frothing-at-the-mouth, head-over-heels in love with his new bride. Jamie was thrilled for her sister, but it was difficult not to feel just a tad green when she saw the two of them together. Up until two years ago, Jessie had been a hard-core librarian spinster, and Jamie had been the femme fatale. Now it was almost like their roles had switched. Jamie had been so preoccupied with getting the store up and running lately that she really hadn’t had time for romance.

  If she was really honest with herself, she hadn’t had the inclination either. She’d spent the two previous years as a burlesque dancer in a high-end gentleman’s club and that experience had pretty much turned her off men—at least temporarily.

  Looking out at the waves now, Jamie could feel some of her interest returning. One of the surfers in particular caught her eye. He wasn’t particularly graceful on his board, spending more time being dumped off than balanced on, but he was definitely having the time of his life out there. His deep laugh and flashing white teeth were difficult to ignore, even from a hundred or so metres away.

  Glad for the distraction Jamie straightened up and adjusted her oversized sunglasses higher up on the bridge of her nose so she could watch him without being too obvious. Her laughing surfer was straddling the board now, looking for the next wave, and she had an excellent view of the broad expanse of his smooth, golden back. To Jamie there was nothing more irresistible than a man with a fabulous rear-view, but this was the first time in months she’d actually taken the time to admire one. Silently, she prayed that his face didn’t resemble a fright mask.

  As Jamie’s gaze skimmed over every inch of his impressive physique, she allowed her sunglasses to slide back down her nose to get a better look. She was staring so intently at his back that she didn’t notice when he turned his head in her direction until their eyes locked and held.

  Damn, now he knows I was ogling him, Jamie thought, shifting her focus to a random spot on the horizon to avoid his intent gaze. Two years ago, being caught perusing a strange man would have been just the sort of bold move she’d been known for. Yesterday’s Jamie would have stared back and smiled invitingly. Mr. Surfer would have been out of the water so fast it would have looked like a scene out of Jaws. But she wasn't that girl anymore.

  Today’s Jamie, however, was mortified at being caught practically drooling over a truly world-class pair of shoulders. She wanted desperately to abandon her cocktail and make a dash for the nearest ladies room. Instead, she held her ground and stared out to sea, taking a casual sip from her margarita like nothing untoward had occurred.

  Her cool demeanor lasted about two minutes. That’s how long it took the surfer to reach the beach. When his feet touched bottom he rose out of the water like some kind of mythological water god, Neptune or Poseidon maybe. Jamie half expected him to be armed with a triton, but the huge yellow surfboard was close enough.

  When he’d been out on the water, Jamie had thought he’d dwarfed the four other surfers, but it was difficult to tell from so far away. Within shouting distance, he was a giant—at least several inches above six feet and thickly muscled across his smooth chest and arms. His shoulders looked big enough to block out the setting sun, which they did when he got close enough for Jamie to get a really good look at him.

  Completely against her will, Jamie felt her jaw drop. She’d been hoping for a harmless flirtation with a handsome stranger, but her random surfer wasn’t a stranger at all. The water had darkened his golden hair, and she’d had no idea his clothes had hidden such a mouth-watering body, but there was no denying that she’d accidentally stumbled upon her new brother-in-law’s best friend, Kevin Hall. From what she knew of this man, he was exactly not what she was looking for. He was the type of guy that smart women avoided like cheap shoes and discount bikini waxes.

  Kevin had arrived late, just in time for the nuptials, and Jamie had felt his gaze on her throughout the entire ceremony. He’d watched her unabashedly, smiling into her eyes whenever he got the chance. There was something both thrilling and irksome in his attentive manner. He looked at her like he owned her even before they’d exchanged the barest of pleasantries.

  On one hand, capturing the interest of such an incredibly attractive, eligible man was always good for the self-esteem, but on the other, she couldn’t stand it when men assumed that she was available for whatever fantasy they had in mind just because she’d worked at the Kitty-Kat Lounge for a few years. As a result, Kevin’s best efforts to be charming had been met with a blank stare and outright avoidance on her part. Now, she’d been caught staring at him—a move guaranteed to inflate his already impressive ego.

  “Do you surf?” Kevin asked when he reached her, his deep voice sending involuntary shivers down her spine, making Jamie even more irritated.

  “No,” she said shortly, without any effort at an explanation. Avoiding his topaz gaze, she began gathering up her things.

  “Why not?” He asked, hands on hips, he watched her flustered attempt to get up without spilling her drink or losing her monstrous hat in a sudden gust of tropical wind.

  She paused. “What do you mean, ‘Why not?’ Is it a requirement or something?” She asked, annoyed. Staring up at him through her sunglasses, she tried not to notice how endearing his half-grin was or the way the water molded his knee-length black board shorts to his muscular thighs. Why was this stud-muffin questioning her anyway? Was it any of his business what she did? Def
initely not.

  “Well, if it’s not, it should be. You should really try it out. It’s incredible. The water feels great,” he said, giving his head a shake so glittering droplets spread around his head like mist.

  Jamie stepped away to avoid the shower and gave an unladylike snort. “You should know. It looked like you spent a lot more time in the water than on your board.”

  “So, you were watching me?” He asked with a teasing grin and an arch of one golden eyebrow. “I thought so. Did you like the view?”

  “I certainly wasn’t looking at you,” she said indignantly, mentally crossing her fingers for the lie. “At least not how you mean. I just couldn’t help noticing you make a fool of yourself. Honestly, it was like watching Laurel and Hardy out there.”

  Kevin’s grin widened. “I’m pretty sure Laurel and Hardy never surfed. Probably because they were chickens. Like you,” he challenged, crossing his arms over his chiseled chest.

  “I am not scared,” she said evenly, ignoring her desire to punch him in the knee for even suggesting she was cowardly. “If an overgrown oaf like you can manage it, I’m pretty sure I can handle it, without nearly drowning myself either, I might add.”

  “Fine then. Let’s see how you do. I’ll bet you can’t even manage to stand up on your board. In fact, I think a little wager might make things interesting.”

  “Interesting to whom?”

  “Interesting to me, but you too. If you’re game.”

  Jamie gave him a chilly look and held up her hand as if to push him and his suggestion away. “As tempting as that sounds, I’m definitely not game. Not for anything you have in mind.”

  Kevin turned the wattage on his grin up to blinding. No woman had ever resisted him like this before. “C’mon. You’re in paradise. You should be experiencing all the pleasures the island has to offer,” he said, allowing his eyes to wander down to Jamie’s full pink lips.

  Jamie stared at him in disbelief, momentarily stunned by his boldness. “Ick, did you get that off a tourist pamphlet or something? I thought you were a writer. Couldn’t you come up with something more original than that?”

  “I’m a true crime writer, so I’m pretty sure my particular brand of communication wouldn’t work very well in this situation, but the resort literature has got a point.” He began counting those points off on his tan fingers. “We’re in a strange place. We’re alone. We’re single…what’s wrong with taking a few chances and experiencing some new things?” He looked at her with a wide-eyed innocent look meant to put her at ease.

  Jamie rolled her eyes so hard she thought they might just fall right out of her skull. She took off her sunglasses to give him the full benefit of her snapping, cinnamon-colored gaze. Bracing her hands on her hips, she glared up at him and said in her iciest tone: “Listen, Mr. Wannabe Lothario, this whole ‘experiencing new things’ approach might work with women without a smidge of intelligence or self-respect, but since I have both, and am not falling down drunk or under medication, let me assure you that however attractive you think you are, you are the only person on this beach who thinks so. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some packing to do.” With that she turned away and began stomping up the sand toward the resort in what she thought was a fairly impressive exit, marred only by the loud smacking sound of her pink flip-flops.

  Not content to let Jessie’s feisty sister have the last word, Kevin scanned his memory for the most obnoxious reply he could think of.

  “Wow, that is some temper you have there,” he called to her retreating back. “No need to check if the rug matches the drapes. You are definitely a natural redhead.”

  Jamie stopped in her tracks. He hadn’t actually said that, had he? What a complete jerk. Turning slightly, she smiled evilly at him. “I can guarantee that you will never, ever get the opportunity to find out for sure,” she said, raising her chin, she strode away, giving her hips an extra eat-your-heart-out sway as she did so.

  Kevin watched her for a long time, admiring her curvy form and smiling to himself. No matter what that girl thought, this wasn’t over between them. If he had his way, it was just the beginning.

  Chapter One

  Three Months Later…

  Hidden Treasures was empty and this, unfortunately, was nothing new. Jamie had been completely alone since her lingerie store opened three hours earlier. The provocative window display did nothing to lure customers through the door. The luxuriously appointed interior and colorful tables full of panties, bras, corsets, and robes were wasted because prospective buyers rarely came through the door. It was pretty clear that the store was in big trouble.

  She’d tried everything—ridiculously overpriced advertising in all the local newspapers, free giveaways and coupons, open houses, and even a rather risqué fashion show. Nothing worked and she was quickly running out of options. Soon she’d have to face the facts—her dream was dying a slow, painful death with very little hope of resuscitation.

  When she’d opened the store the year before she’d known she was taking a risk. The West Hastings location near Vancouver’s downtown was not exactly prime real estate. In fact, it was a bit on the seedy side, but the relatively inexpensive rent had allowed her to use her inheritance and savings to turn the former porn shop into the lush showplace for her creations that she’d always wanted. She’d thought her innovative designs would be enough to attract customers in droves. She hadn’t counted on the saturated lingerie market—between chain outlets and catalogues—she just couldn’t compete.

  Jamie walked past the nearest table of silk panties and resisted the urge to straighten them for the third time today. What was the use of ensuring that they were perfectly lined up? No one would see them but her. If things didn’t improve soon no one would have the opportunity to admire the gorgeous high ceilings, watered silk wallpaper or the French Provencal furniture she had so carefully selected to make Hidden Treasures the ultimate luxurious haven for lingerie aficionados either. The tap of her high heels against the hard wood floors echoed loudly in the silent store as she made her way to the blue and gray striped settee closest to the door and sat down with a long, drawn-out sigh.

  She felt like such a fool—using her inheritance, not to mention her savings from working at the Kitty-Kat Lounge to create this place. Now it looked like it had all been for nothing. Hidden Treasures was doomed—unless she came up with something brilliant to generate some real publicity…soon.

  The muted bell over the door tinkled and Jamie popped out of her dejected pose. She pasted a huge welcoming smile on her face, determined to charm the prospective customer into buying something.

  A single sale wouldn’t make a difference to her dismal financial future, but it always cheered her up to share her designs. She loved the idea of people indulging themselves by wearing something she’d created to enhance their bodies and their love lives. It was a small contribution to the world, but she really felt just the act of buying lingerie brought a small dose of fantasy and sensuality to the mundane existence people typically lived. She smiled just thinking about the 75-year-old woman who’d come in last week and left with a racy black merry widow.

  The smile faded slightly when she saw her best friend, Clay Wood, and his sister Catherine, enter the store. Jamie adored the handsome blonde, but he wasn’t exactly her target market. Clay managed her sister Jessie’s vintage bookstore, Forgotten Treasures. Working right next store meant Clay could usually be counted on to make frequent visits throughout the day, usually bearing coffee or chocolate to cheer her up as she watched her store go down the tubes.

  Catherine was as timid as Clay was flamboyant. She worked as a Proofreader at The Vancouver Star and often met Clay for lunch. Today her mousy blonde hair was loose and hanging down her back in limp shanks and the hem of her oversized overalls dragged on the floor when she walked making a ‘shooshing’ sound with every step.

  Jamie had known the girl for more than two years and every time she saw Clay’s sister she itched to give he
r a complete makeover. She constantly had to fight this impulse into submission because she didn’t want to hurt Cathy's feelings but it was a huge struggle to avoid at least offering to take her shopping for something that fit. Or maybe suggesting that she wear at least the occasional non-neutral color to spice things up. The girl seemed to have a disturbing beige fetish which just added to her tendency to fade into the background.

  Jamie liked Catherine but she didn’t usually contribute much to the conversation. Cathy typically smiled, listened and occasionally nodded when she was particularly enthused. Overall, she was just there, observing. It was almost impossible to get a real impression of her personality because she didn't really interact with anyone but Clay.

  “Good Lord, this place makes my store look like a Wal-Mart on Christmas Eve,” Clay looked around and shook his head. “Where are all the frustrated housewives buying their thongs these days anyway?” Clay asked, running his manicured fingertip over the buff male mannequin’s muscular shoulder.

  “Not here, obviously,” Jamie said dryly and sat back down on her settee. “Can you stop molesting Raoul for a minute and help me come up with something to save this place from being a fond memory?”

  Clay snatched his hand away from the mannequin’s silk boxers and turned to Jamie. “Ah, the smell of desperation is in the air,” he said, pretending to take a big whiff. “Fear not, My Little Cabbage. Cat and I have come up with a solution to your little problem.” He nudged his sister forward. “Come on, tell her what we were talking about,” he said, nodding encouragingly.

  Cathy pushed her glasses up on her nose with a quick jab of her forefinger and brushed some of her stringy blond hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture that almost always preceded her efforts at conversation. “Well…it’s just an idea. It’s kind of stupid really. You probably won’t want to hear about it—.”

  Jamie reached out and pulled Cathy onto the settee with her. “Cathy, of course I want to hear it. Whatever you’ve come up with is better than the blank screen going on in my head. Now, spill it,” she said as kindly as she could. She wanted to be patient and understanding with Cathy's shyness, but she really didn't have the time or the inclination to coddle the girl at this point. Her future was at stake, along with her pride. If Clay and his sister had a viable rescue plan in mind then she needed to know about it ASAP. Hope was fading fast.