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“Not guilty!!”
The verdict hit the room like a spark in a chamber full of gasoline. A roar exploded from the gallery—cheers, claps, relieved sobs.
Zaedrick Walker, Esq. didn’t flinch. He simply exhaled, smoothing the front of his tailored charcoal suit as if the trial hadn’t been the high-profile circus the city had followed for weeks.
Flashbulbs snapped the moment he pushed open the courtroom doors.
“Mr. Walker. Statement?” One reporter asked.
“Attorney Zaedrick, how did you pull this off?” Another reporter questioned.
He offered the reporters nothing more than his signature half-smile: calm and unreadable, then walked straight through the chaos as if it were parting for him.
He needed silence.
He needed heat.
He needed the ocean.
Two days later, Fiji welcomed him with warm air that tasted like salt and sunlight. By his second morning there, his shoulders had finally dropped from the tension of the courtroom. Barefoot, he walked along the shoreline, letting the tide kiss the tops of his feet.
That’s when he saw her.
A woman’s silhouette drifted toward him, soft curves outlined by the rising sun. Her hips swayed with an effortless rhythm, her shadow gliding over the sand like poetry.
As she approached, her features sharpened in the light: full lips, honey-brown skin, a gaze like quiet fire.
His pulse jumped.
“Good morning, ma’am,” he said, unable to look away. “I don’t mean to offend you, but… are you really this attractive?”
She smiled but didn’t slow down. Didn’t answer. She just kept walking, the hint of laughter tugging at her lips.
Zaddy ran a hand over his jaw, chuckling under his breath.
Not used to being ignored, he followed.
“Okay,” he called out, “maybe that wasn’t the right line.”
His voice softened as he caught up to her. “Let’s try this again.”
She slowed, studying him with the cautious interest of someone deciding if he was trouble or worth the trouble.
He extended his hand.
“Hi. I’m Zaddy. From Houston. Can I walk with you?”
Her smile widened this time, warm and feminine. She placed her hand in his, her touch cool against his palm. “That’s better,” she said. “And yes. You can walk with me. For a moment.”
“What’s your name?” he probed.
“Chyna,” she quickly responded.
Her voice sounded like tropical dusk: smooth, low, and mysterious.
They strolled along the shoreline, waves whispering over their ankles. When Zaddy invited her to dinner, she didn’t hesitate, just nodded once with a soft smile that promised curiosity… and maybe mischief. They parted ways to prepare.
*****
Chyna moved through her villa like a slow-burning flame.
The ocean breeze billowed the curtains as she slipped into a deep blue dress, the fabric hugging her curves like it had been stitched onto her skin. She added earrings, glossed her lips, and paused in the mirror.
Not too much. Not too little.
Just enough to make a confident man forget every woman he’d ever met before.
When she walked into the restaurant, Zaddy rose instantly. His eyes traveled from her lips to her heels and back again, and she felt the heat of it like a hand sliding down her spine.
She let the silence linger before easing into her chair.
“You clean up nice,” she murmured, crossing her legs slowly.
Dinner was good.
His attention was better. Intense and locked in, like she’d become his favorite study.
A live band began to play, saxophone notes melting into the glow of the lanterns.
Zaddy’s gaze dipped to her mouth, then to her dress… and then he stood, offering his hand.
“Dance with me.”
The moment she rose, his breath caught.
His body reacted before he could stop it, heat surging through him, causing the zipper of his pants to push out quickly… urgently… and unmistakably.
For once, the unflappable Zaedrick Walker felt out of control.
And Chyna noticed as her eyes followed from his growing pants’ zipper to his brown eyes. Her smile said she liked it.
*****