Never Enough Read online

  Never Enough

  Never2Late4Love – Book 1

  Best Selling & Award-Winning Author

  Nancy Fraser

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales, is entirely coincidental.

  Never Enough

  Never2Late4Love – Book 1

  COPYRIGHT © 2021 by Nancy Fraser

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  Contact Information: romwriter96(at)gmail(dot)com

  Cover by Notes From a Romantic’s Heart Author Services © 2021

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Never Enough

  Praise for Nancy Fraser and Never Enough

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Never Enough

  WHEN AMANDA THORNE arrives on San Bella Island, she’s tired and in bad need of a vacation. She’s just finished paying off her late husband’s many debts by selling their home and belongings. On her way to Dallas for a new job in a medical research lab, she’s taking one week to recoup before beginning her new life.

  Nicholas Holloway is recovering from a 2-year stint undercover for the U.S. Marshal Service. Ordered to take a vacation to clear his head, he ends up on San Bella at the same time.

  Will these two battle-scared souls find peace in the other’s arms? And, will they be able to walk away at the end of their one-week fling?

  Caution: This book contains love scenes and language some may find offensive. Or hot!

  Praise for Nancy Fraser and Never Enough

  “Never Enough is another winner from the very talented Nancy Fraser. Tightly written with outstanding characters, the story grabs you from the first page and never lets go. No matter what mood Fraser sets in her stories, she skillfully creates characters that will remain with you long after the last page.” ~ Best Selling, Award-Winning Author, Desiree Holt

  “Never Enough was so steamy-hot, I needed oven mitts just to hold my e-reader!” ~ Notes From a Romantic’s Heart Blog Reviews

  Chapter 1

  Montauk, Long Island

  Saturday Morning

  AMANDA THORNE TURNED full circle in the three-story entryway, her sensible two-inch heels clicking against the expensive slate flooring. Sparing one last, longing glance at the great room to her right, she engaged the alarm, closed the door behind her, and dropped her keys in the realtor’s lock box.

  The past eight years of her life—the last vestige of her inheritance—gone.

  Right on time, the taxi pulled into the long, winding driveway, stopping just inches from where she waited. The driver, a short, stocky man who reminded her of her maternal grandfather, took her single suitcase and placed it in the trunk.

  “Where to, Miss?” he asked.

  “LaGuardia, please. Domestic terminal.”

  He held the door open and waited for her to settle into the seat before slipping behind the steering wheel and shifting his weight to get comfy.

  “Going to visit family?” he asked, casually starting up a conversation.

  “No,” she said softly. “I’m relocating.”

  He shot her a quick glance over his shoulder before pulling the car into gear and starting out across the inlaid brick drive. “You’re moving away from Long Island?”

  His question sent a sharp pain through her chest. After all, who in their right mind would leave Long Island, especially the beautiful area of Montauk?

  It’s not like you had a choice, now did you?

  Amanda bit back an angry curse, willing her conscience back into its allotted corner of her mind. Suddenly remembering the man’s question, she told him, “I’m taking a job out of state. As much as I’ll miss parts of New York, I won’t miss the winters.”

  “Ah,” he said, chuckling. “You’re relocating somewhere warm.” He paused, then asked, “Were those your three moving vans I passed on the way from the highway?”

  Three vans? Not hardly.

  The single small load truck she’d hired had held everything she owned, save for what she’d packed for her trip. So, if there was a caravan of trucks, it wasn’t hers.

  “No, not mine,” she acknowledged finally.

  He turned the taxi onto the highway leading to the airport. “Good luck to you, wherever you’re headed.”

  “Thank you.”

  Sliding her fingertips over the screen of her cell, Amanda pulled up her reservation—the short vacation a gift from the real estate agent who’d benefited greatly from the sale of her home.

  Diamond Key Resort, San Bella Island. An island paradise, or so the brochure claimed. All she wanted was time to recoup, a handful of days to reset her emotional clock and prepare herself for her new life.

  A week alone... away from the cloying pity of her so-called friends and family.

  With any luck, she’d come out of her short stay no worse for the wear.

  Diamond Key Resort, San Bella Island

  Sunday Afternoon

  NICHOLAS HOLLOWAY TAPPED his fingertips restlessly against the rich mahogany finish of the hotel’s reception desk. Drawing a breath and letting it out slowly, he calmed his jittery nerves and waited for the return of the young clerk. After a few more moments, she came forward, her gaze assessing him up and down.

  “You’re in room 301, a corner king, Mr.... uh... Holloway.” Handing him his credit card and the electronic keycard, she told him, “You can take the main elevators to the left. Or, if you’d prefer, the stairs next to the patio entrance.”

  He nodded, and asked, “Which way to the bar?”

  She gave a quick tip of her head. “Just through those glass doors to the right.”

  He took a few steps away from the desk, and then turned back. “Thank you.” Staring at her name tag, he added, “Melanie.”

  “You’re welcome, Mr. Holloway.”

  Nick grabbed the worn canvas bag sitting at his feet and headed toward the stairs. The climb would do him good, burn off some of his residual energy, the adrenaline he’d not yet set aside.

  ‘Get out of here, Nick’, his boss had ordered. When he’d meant to argue about being sent away, Greg had added, ‘One week. Shrink’s orders. You’re lucky it wasn’t a month. Now fuckin’ go’.

  And, so he’d gone. All the way to San Bella Island.

  Nick let himself into the well-appointed king-size room and dropped his bag on the floor next to the bed. He’d unpack later. First, he needed a shower, something strong to drink, and a full day’s sleep.

  Better yet, he needed a woman. A warm, willing piece of ass who didn’t want to talk afterward. A grin tugged at the corner of his mouth. What were the chances the prim and professional Melanie would be open to a tumble between the sheets?

  Retrieving clean underwear and his toiletry case from the oversized duffle, he turned toward the bathroom. He’d barely cleared the doorway when he caught sight of himself in the large mirror above the vanity.

  No wonder the front desk staff had given him the once over—more than once.

  He braced his hands on the edge of the sink and leaned closer to his reflection. It wasn’t Nick Holloway he saw but, rather, Phil Thompson, the undercover persona he’d worn like a shield for the past two-plus years. Nick closed his eyes, wanting more than anything to shed his alter-ego and all the emotional baggage that went with it.

  Reaching for his kit, he withdrew the clippers and slipped the medium comb into place, running it through the thick beard he’d worn for the past two-and-a-half years. He changed combs and took the shorter whiskers down to a respectable five o’clock shadow, still not comfortable with totally exposing himself.

  He replaced the comb a second time and ran it through his collar-length hair, taking off a good two inches, leaving just enough to cover his latest scars.

  Shower next, then enough booze to knock him on his ass for a good night’s sleep—assuming that was even possible.

  Three hours later, Nick opened his eyes and pushed himself to a sitting position on the side of the bed. He’d dozed, yet a solid sleep had eluded him. He stood, crossed the room, removed another mini bottle of scotch from the in-room bar, mentally calculated the inflated cost, and poured the amber liquid into a glass.

  The heavy blackout curtains slid noisily along the metal rod, the slowly sinking sun blinding him for a moment. Once his vision cleared, he looked out over the neatly manicured resort grounds, a gradual slope leading to a pier that jutted out into the gulf.

  People milled around everywhere, some playing horseshoes on one of the three pitches, another group sat around an open bonfire. Most were there in twos or fours, families with children were scattered along the beachfront.

  His gaze was drawn to a single figure, a woman. Dressed in a pair of shorts that ended mid-thigh on
impossibly long legs and a halter top, she walked along the water’s edge. Her sandals dangling from her fingers, she played tip-toe with the surf.

  Dark chestnut hair dusted her slender shoulders. She turned, shielded her eyes, and looked back at the hotel—as if she could sense him watching her.

  Desire shot through him, making him hard, reminding him of how badly he needed a woman. Two long years, an overabundance of caution and self-preservation, had stretched his patience and his libido to its limits.

  He may have been ordered to take a vacation, but he was certain all he needed was sex. Steamy, fuck-until-you-drop sex.

  When he glanced back toward the waterfront, he realized the woman had made her way up the walkway and now stood at the edge of the outdoor patio. She raised her gaze, and his breath caught. She was even more delicate than he’d pictured; her eyes darkened slightly by shadows and sadness. She reminded him of someone he’d known once; someone he couldn’t save, no matter how hard he’d tried.

  Chapter 2

  AMANDA ACCEPTED THE fruity drink from the bartender’s outstretched hand, and took a sip before walking away. She should go back inside and order room service.

  But, she couldn’t. Not yet.

  The early evening breeze was a balm to her overwrought senses, a welcome form of relaxation she’d hoped for but not expected. She made her way back down the narrow pathway and claimed one of two Adirondack chairs fifty feet from the water’s edge, settling into the wide seat and laying her head back to watch the last of the sun fall beneath the horizon.

  Resort workers were busy lighting torches along the half-dozen pathways, and citronella candles to keep the bugs away. To her left, a group of five sixty-something women were laughing, joking about a milestone birthday for one of them—most likely the woman wrapped in the pink feather boa. They were having the time of their lives, enjoying each other’s company without the need for male companionship.

  She gave a short laugh. Take a look at your future, Mandy-girl. That’ll be you some day. Older, alone, sipping margaritas from a chilled pitcher, and wondering where your youth—your life—went wrong.

  The sound of fussy children arguing the onset of bedtime drew her attention to the far side of the grounds. Young couples walked arm in arm, stopping every few feet to share a kiss, some chaste, more than a few bordering on indecent. She swallowed and released a slow breath. It had been so long since she’d been with a man; since she’d been kissed, cherished. Loved.

  Forcing her attention away from the latest pair of lovebirds, her gaze clashed with the man she’d seen earlier. He’d been standing at the top of the pathway, his long fingers wrapped around a tall bottle of beer. Now, he stood less than ten feet away, his legs spread for balance on the gentle slope of grass.

  He was tall, at least six-two, his medium brown hair held a hint of gray at the temples and hung to the top of his shirt collar, his face darkened by a hint of a beard. His crooked smile drew her attention to the scar that ran along his jawline.

  Not bad looking. Interesting in fact, in a rugged sort of way.

  While she’d been staring, he’d taken a few more steps in her direction. The closer he came, the harder she found it to look away.

  “Is this seat taken?” he asked, nodding toward the empty chair next to hers.

  “No, it’s not.”

  “May I sit?”

  She shrugged. “It’s a free beach.”

  He chuckled, his laugh sending a shiver skittering across her bare arms.

  “Not at the prices this place charges, it’s not.”

  “True,” she agreed, giving him a shy smile.

  He stretched out his hand. “Nick.”

  She placed her hand in his, surprised by the gentleness of his grasp. “Amanda. Although I prefer Mandy,” she responded.

  “Nice to meet you, Mandy.”

  “You too, Nick.”

  “Can I buy you a drink?” he asked.

  She gave her half-full glass a shake. “I’m good. I’ve been nursing this one for a while now.” Taking a small sip, she admitted, “I’m not much of a drinker.”

  “So, what brings you to San Bella Island?”

  Mandy took a moment to answer, unsure of how much she was willing to share with a total stranger. “Short vacation. I needed to get away from the city.”

  His jaw twitched, but he held back an actual smile. “And what city would that be?”

  “New York,” she said simply. “Long Island, to be exact.”

  He made a show of looking around them, scanning the whole of the resort grounds and beach. “You can’t get much farther away from New York than this place.”

  “How about you, Nick? What brings you to San Bella Island?”

  “Same. Vacation. I just finished a big job, and needed a break.”

  She took another sip of her drink, and asked, “What do you do... for work?”

  He drew his full lower lip through his teeth, as if contemplating her question. “I’m a contractor,” he told her. “How about you?”

  “I’m in between jobs at the moment.”

  “A perfect time for a vacation.”

  “Have you been here long?” she asked. “At Diamond Key?”

  “I got in earlier today. How about you?”

  “Yesterday. I’m here for a week.”

  He met her gaze, giving her another half-smile. “Me too, until next Saturday at least.”

  A thought occurred to her. As heartbreaking and emotionally draining as her last few years had been, there was one thing she needed even more than her brief vacation.

  She needed a man. Badly.

  She’d never been one for casual sex, but the idea of having a brief fling set her pulse racing. And Nick, with his crooked smirk, soulful chocolate gaze, and interesting imperfections seemed like the perfect candidate for a temporary lover.

  Swallowing back the last of her drink, more for courage than thirst, she wondered how one would go about bringing up the subject of sex with someone they’d just met.

  HE HATED SMALL TALK with a passion. Yet, with Mandy, it flowed naturally. Nick wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he suspected she was hiding something. As beautiful as she was, the sadness he’d seen from the window of his room was even more pronounced up close.

  The shadows he’d imagined beneath her azure gaze were even darker than he’d suspected. Her slender body was even thinner than he’d guessed. He wondered what had caused the shadows, the rail thin frame. What secrets was she keeping tucked away behind those huge, blue eyes?

  As much as he valued honesty, he couldn’t very well blame her for not being totally forthcoming. After all, he’d unloaded a pile of bullshit himself just moments before.

  He relaxed back in the chair, surprised by the contentment he felt in the silence. He’d spent so much time on edge, on full alert, sitting next to an attractive woman, enjoying a cold beer and the evening breeze coming off the ocean, seemed foreign to him.

  He wasn’t sure if he knew how to get out of his own way; get out of his head and back into the real world, but he sure as fuck was going to try.

  “I’ve not eaten yet,” he admitted. “I don’t suppose you’d let me buy you dinner?”

  Mandy turned to face him and gave him a coy smile. “I’m not really hungry, but I do have snacks and a really nice bottle of Monte Bello Cabernet in my room.”

  Chapter 3

  NICK PUSHED HIMSELF to his feet in a rush, his gaze affixed to Mandy’s tentative smile, his ears still ringing with her enticing offer. He had no interest in her expensive bottle of wine. All he cared about was the ‘in my room’ add-on.

  Stretching out his arm, he offered her a steadying hand. When she placed her fingertips in his grasp, sparks shot across his palm. He gave a tug, drawing her to feet. “I like wine,” he said, offering her grin, “and snacks.” Sweeping his hand wide to encompass the narrow pathway, he urged her forward. “Lead the way.”

  Mandy reached for his hand, closed her fingers around his, and started up the crushed gravel walkway. “I’m on the fourth floor,” she said softly. “Room 416.”