Blueisland (Watermagic Series, #4) by Brighton Hill Page B

was no way Marcel could have made this in the short time that we had been on the island. It was like a mini-paradise way up in a tree with warm golden light illuminating everyone’s perfect faces. But if that was the case, how the hell did this dream home get here?
    My heart tightened. Emily was standing at the edge of the pool arguing with Marcel while some of the other French exchange students that I recognized from school were kicking back in the water. One guy with long golden brown hair was talking to beautiful, blond Marine. I think his name was Laurent. They seemed like close friends. Of the bunch, I didn’t think he had a relationship like the others. His back was to a stunning red head with fine features; she kept glancing at him.
    Who was that girl? I didn’t think I had ever seen her before. She had a black rubber tube dress on that laced up the front showing her flesh beneath. What a body. I kept looking for the hand cuffs and whips, but didn’t see any. Maybe she was in jail with Marcel and that was why I had missed her on campus. The idea of a bombshell like her in the slammer almost made me laugh. Sometimes I had a weird sense of humor.
    The red head draped her long wet hair over her shoulder and said to Emily in a snappy voice, “You better get blasted ass out because Brigitte is going to be here any minute.” I guess she was a bit rough around the edges. She looked a little like a non-animated version of Ariel from The Little Mermaid , but much hotter. She was like Ariel gone naughty.
    In the shadows, Emily’s lip quivered as she ignored her and continued talking to Marcel. “You should just tell Brigitte.” Her voice was pleading which surprised me.
    Shirtless, Marcel was dressed in some light sweat pants, grey in color, which hung low on his hips in a sexy way. I could barely even look at his naked, cut chest, broad shoulders, and washboard stomach without feeling week in the knees. “I told you I was drunk,” he said sternly to Emily. “You begged for it, but I warned you it would only be one time.”
    “I didn’t think you meant that,” she whispered, searching his blue eyes. “It was so good; don’t you agree?”
    “For you.” He shook his head and took a step back. “I couldn’t have been clearer. I was drunk off my ass and you pushed yourself on me, saying you just wanted me to make you feel good.”
    “Please, Marcel.” She put her hand on his lean, muscular arm, but he pushed it away.
    “Get out,” he said coldly , looking her deadpan in the face. I was surprised how he was treating her. Emily was used to every guy alive falling for her.
    “You better go.” Pascal said as he stood up in the pool. Like the others, his body was perfect and tan. His hair was thick, long, and black like the night, darker than Marcel’s. “We don’t need you making a mess of our lives.” Gosh, these guys could be cruel. Who the hell did they think they were?
    Marine got out of the pool and took Emily’s arm. “Come on. I’ll walk you back to the beach.” Her voice was soft and nurturing. Like her friends’ voices, there was a slight lyrical quality to it that sounded so beautiful. At least she had some compassion.
    But Emily pulled away. Apparently, she didn’t want her comfort. Sometimes phonies like Emily made me so mad. What was she doing chasing after the one guy who wasn’t interested in her? She had her choice of practically anyone else in the world. Stupid. But as she stepped back, Brigitte walked in.
    Oh, damn. I felt a sudden lump growing in my throat as I stared at her. She moved with the grace of a ballerina. I wondered what she had heard. She looked at Emily and Marcel a little too intensely as her stunning blue eyes narrowed. “What is going on?” Her mesmerizing voice was harsh.
    “Nothing,” Marine interjected as she pulled Emily away again this time with a little more force. “We were just leaving.”
    But Emily started crying , brushing her blond locks out of her