SEDUCTION AT THE STARGRASS

by Charlee James

  He didn’t owe her anything, outside of reviewing what she had to offer, because when he agreed to something he followed through. After that, Gemma Dalton was officially a guest enjoying a vacation at his resort.

  Chapter 3

  Gemma took a sip of coffee and sighed as the fresh roast instantly washed away the morning fog that clouded her brain. The Slipper Shell was bustling with families and couples who enjoyed the breakfast spread Zale’s team laid out. Something inside her had stirred the moment she’d laid eyes on the hotel tycoon, and he’d popped up in her thoughts more than once the night before. Bronze skin, dark features, and devastating clear, turquoise eyes that mirrored the tropical waters of French Polynesia. The distraction was unwelcome, irritating, and hazardous to the task she’d come here to complete.

  “Ms. Dalton.” Gemma turned her head to the left toward the small but sophisticated voice and found a young girl staring at her with large, turquoise eyes. She wore a pleated navy skirt and a crisp white blouse, and her onyx hair was pulled away from her oval face into a French braid. Gemma smiled despite the girl’s commanding tone. She looked suited for a boardroom or financial debate. There was no doubt whose child this was.

  “Hello.” She angled her body toward the girl, forgetting all about breakfast. “You must be Zale’s daughter. You can call me Gemma.” She held out her hand, which was met with a surprisingly strong grip and a brief shake. When they released hands, she lifted her coffee cup, smiled at her over the rim, then took a sip. Oh my, Zale’s daughter indeed. Gemma didn’t have much experience with children, aside from her father’s new little family. Part of her couldn’t deny the jealousy that crept into her heart when she watched her dad give the children piggyback rides. The other part of her was relieved that he showed them more affection than he had her, and a playful side she’d certainly never seen.

  “You can call me Miss Carris.”

  Gemma nearly spit out the sip of coffee she’d taken. Well now, this was a girl with a spirit. “Miss Carris, let me take this opportunity to tell you how lovely I find the Stargrass.” She was thoroughly fascinated by Zale’s daughter.

  The girl simply nodded and acknowledged a pair of restaurant patrons with a warm smile. One that hadn’t been bestowed on her. She clearly knew who Gemma was and why she was here.

  “We haven’t had a chance to look over your proposal. Daddy and I are busy, you know.” The girl’s eyes narrowed, and Gemma found herself being sized up.

  “Of course,” Gemma replied in the same polite tone and reined in the smile that threated to spread across her face. She had a feeling the little miss would take it as a slight. Had she ever met a child so inquisitive and sharp?

  Just then Zale appeared behind his daughter with a daddy-bear scowl. “There you are. I thought you were going to wait at the front desk for me. I was worried.” He placed a large hand on his daughter’s shoulder.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.” She grinned up at him, all innocence, and his face softened with an utter expression of love that made Gemma’s eyes prickle.

  “Well, Ms. Dalton, you’ve met my daughter, Mila, who is going to be late for the bus if she doesn’t get out to the portico.” They both turned and walked hand in hand out of the restaurant. The father-daughter duo were quite the pair, and suddenly Gemma sensed it was them against the world. She picked up her coffee and lifted it to her lips, pausing when Zale cast a fleeting glance over his shoulder. There was something behind that look that she couldn’t pin down. Coffee sloshed over the side of porcelain rim and seeped onto her skirt. Her cheeks burned as she dabbed her lap with one of the linen napkins. It wasn’t like her to be flustered or distracted, but around Zale it seemed to be the norm.

  Once she was satisfied that the mess was cleaned up, Gemma discreetly scanned the dining room, lobby, and space beyond in an effort to catch a glimpse at Zale. Oh, it was foolish to seek him out. How could she ignore the quiver in her belly when she looked him in the eyes? It had been a long time since she’d felt that kind of thrill.

  Beyond the glass entrance, Zale spun Mila around, and she did a twirl and curtsey before they both laughed. Her parents owned sprawling estates and chic penthouse apartments around the globe, but none of them had ever been a home. Even the warm smile and shoulder pat Zale gave Mila was more than Gemma could’ve dreamed of. Her family was all business, all the time. With one last sip of her now-cold coffee, she pushed away from the table and walked out into the lobby.

  If Zale accepted her sale, he’d have an abundance of wealth and more spare time to spend with his daughter. She straightened her shoulders and walked toward the hotel’s side door that led to the Great Lawn. When the glass doors slid open, she was greeted with the crisp scent of the harbor. She took an easy breath and her muscles relaxed. The last thing she wanted to do was make holes in Zale’s pristine lawn, so she slipped off the stiletto pumps. All five senses practically purred when her bare feet sank into the lush carpet of grass. The repetitive lap of waves sang her a quiet lullaby while she drank in the sight of the horizon; dark water that mingled with a baby blue sky. Boats with crisp white sails glided along without a care, and Zale’s guests relaxed in Adirondack chairs with refreshing-looking drinks being served by a gentleman in khaki pants and a collared shirt. The man noticed her standing there and briskly strode across the lawn toward her.

  “It’s a beautiful day to enjoy our signature peach sparkler, or if you’d prefer a beverage from the bar it would be my pleasure to bring it to you.”

  “These look almost to lovely to drink.” Gemma selected one the of the long-stemmed glasses garnished with a kabob of fresh peach cubes and strawberry slices from the tray. “Thank you,” she added.

  “My pleasure. Please let us know if you’d like a blanket and pillows while you’re relaxing on the Great Lawn.” He bowed his head and went to wait on another guest. Gemma began strolling down the lawn and took a sip of the drink. The taste of ripe peach burst over her tongue. It was fizzy and refreshing, and she sighed with contentment. There was a vacant chair to her left, but she wanted to feel the grass underneath her feet. She sank down so she was facing the water with her knees to her chest. Gemma took another sip of the sparkler and tilted her face to the sun. She had forgotten sunscreen, but just a moment wouldn’t hurt.

  “Delicious, isn’t it?” The low rumble of Zale’s voice did funny things to her heartrate. She glanced over her shoulder, shielding her eyes from the sunlight.

  “Mmm.” She smiled. “It’s heavenly.” And there was that look again. The one she couldn’t decipher. He crouched down on the ground beside her. “She’s quite something, your daughter.”

  “That she is.” His face softened. “I can only imagine what she said.”

  “I have a feeling she’ll be taking your job sooner rather than later.” She smiled and sipped her drink, the cool liquid bubbling down her throat. “She let me know you’ve both been too busy to look at my proposal.”

  “An under-the-sea diorama needed our immediate attention.” The sun highlighted the strong lines of his face, shadowing the hollows of his cheeks and the curve of his jaw.

  “Ah. Then that must be the reason for the blue glitter sparkling on your cheek. I was going to ask if there was an interesting nightlife here at the Stargrass.” She smiled up at him from beneath her lashes, pulse pounding in her ears.

  “Glitter seems to play a permanent role in our décor these days.” he said, scrubbing his hands over his cheek bones. “Job hazard.”

  She laughed, enjoying how he opened up when he talked about his daughter. “I’m sure there are lots of those as a parent.”

  “Try going to a board meeting only to discover your fairy princess has bedazzled your suit lapels,” he said.

  She puffed her cheeks, and peach sparkler burst from her lips in the most unprofessional way. “I’m sorry. That was just…I could picture it.” Spitting on the man wasn’t exactly going to paint the picture of a competent brand that would make smart decisions for
his hotels. She laughed off her faux pas, even as heat warmed her cheeks. She hadn’t had such an entertaining morning in years, if ever.

  “That was exactly my reaction—a mouthful of coffee—when my assistant asked me where I purchased my jacket in a room full of people.” His lips quirked. It wasn’t a smile, not really, but the result made her heart forget what an important job it had—mainly beating. He glanced at his watch, and his eyebrows winged up. Was he surprised they’d spent so much time chatting?

  When they parted ways the day before, she left with an impression of a man who was a worthy opponent, but one who was a bit too sure of himself. Perhaps even domineering. There was no question who the boss was here at the resort.

  “I have work to do. Enjoy your morning.” He stood, then turned his back to her and began walking away at a quick clip.

  Her gaze slipped over his broad shoulders. Even beneath his sport coat she could tell they’d be rock hard to the touch, lined with honed muscle. She shook her head, twisting back to the view of the water opposed to Zale—although now the ocean had some hefty competition.

  Chapter 4

  After running into Gemma, Zale threw himself into work for the rest of the morning and most of the afternoon as a punishment for getting sidetracked. He hadn’t been able to tear his eyes from her as she sat looking out at the harbor. Her hair had been pinned up, exposing the graceful column of her neck. The moment she’d mentioned Mila, he’d been able to open up into a comfortable conversation—something he didn’t expect to have with her. He’d expected her to ask all kinds of questions about the timeframe for his decision. He’d been prepared for those, and intended to tell her he was still looking things through. She was competitive, an heiress used to getting her way.

  He hadn’t been prepared for a casual chat. One that lasted far longer than it should’ve.

  He pushed away from his desk and paced to the glass door separating his office from the lobby. Before he met the school bus, he’d check in with his departments.

  An airy laugh halted him in his tracks. Gemma was standing at the desk, laughing and chatting with his front desk agents. It was nearly three o’clock, the busiest time of day for guests to check into the hotel, and instead of making key packets and ensuring rooms were prepared, they were having a jolly time. He strode across the corridor, and his staff instantly stiffened and busied themselves.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Dalton. May I have a word?” He failed to temper his tone and delivered the question as a demand. She of all people should be aware of the professional presence the front desk required.

  “Good afternoon, Zale.” She pushed away from the desk with an innocent smile caressing her lips. Good God, she had to be the most exquisite woman he’d ever seen. His skin heated, and prickles rushed over his back. He was ticked off to find her swarming around his staff and doubly bothered that she still had the ability to distract him when he was upset.

  He paced out of the earshot of employees and guests before turning to face her. “You’re keeping my employees from their work.” He stood straight with his shoulders back, ready for her denial and primed for an argument. There was nothing she could say to quell the annoyance bubbling inside him.

  Gemma’s face was a blank slate, completely devoid of emotion. Her eyes sharpened. “I didn’t realize your employees weren’t allowed to assist with guest requests. If not, what is their purpose?” she asked curtly. “Why not staff the desk with kiosks instead of people?”

  He was suddenly several degrees warmer than he had been. “It’s nearly check-in time. They shouldn’t be idling around, giggling, when they should be preparing for the afternoon rush.”

  She let out a low whistle. “And here I thought Dalton was strict with time management.”

  Oh, she knew just the right buttons to push.

  “I treat my staff well. I respect their abilities, and I expect them to give one hundred percent each day in return. They’re here to care for the guests, and I have little tolerance for silly mistakes made from goofing off.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Perhaps you can fill my request for a few extra towels then?” She had one eyebrow raised, staring at him with an amused expression. Did she find this funny? She spun on the balls of her feet. Her heels clipped over the floor as she started to walk away, then she paused and turned back to him.

  “I wonder,” she mused, one manicured nail on the tip of her chin. “If you’ve heard the saying, if you try to control everything, you’ll enjoy nothing?” She shrugged as though she didn’t have a care in the world and disappeared into the elevator.

  How dare she run off without giving him a moment to respond to something like that? Easy for an heiress to say. She probably enjoyed plenty with the silver spoon of her family’s hotel empire. His shoes slapped against the floor as he made his way to the front desk.

  “Please call housekeeping and cancel the towels being delivered to Ms. Dalton’s suite. I’ll deliver them myself.” His voice was grim, and the front desk agent raised an eyebrow but picked up the phone and punched in the extension and nodded. “Certainly, sir,” the agent said, before relaying the message.

  Zale collected several plush towels from a housekeeping closet, dropped a sachet of lavender sprigs on top, and marched to the elevator. Control. How could she possibly judge him? She didn’t have the first idea as to what was piled on his plate. He checked his watch—no matter what was going on he was never late for the bus. Zale took a deep breath, relaxed his jaw, and headed toward Gemma’s suite. He doubted that his presence at her door would be well-received, but he couldn’t let her comment go.

  Zale stopped in front of her door and knocked. The door swung open almost instantly, and he took a step back in surprise.

  “Oh, thank you for coming so quickly. I’m dying to—” Gemma’s jaw dropped when she saw him standing there. She was wearing the breezy turquoise dress she’d had on in the lobby. One with sophisticated capped sleeves and a hem that made her legs look endless.

  “Dying to what?” All the words on the tip of his tongue melted away along with the anger of being unfairly judged. She looked adorable standing there, eyes wide and lips slightly parted in surprise.

  She cleared her throat and looked to the side. Was that a rosy blush creeping up her cheek? How interesting. Perhaps Ms. Dalton did get her feathers ruffled on occasion. If she wasn’t so infuriating, he might enjoy surprising her more often.

  She cleared her throat and accepted the towels he offered. “To make use of the soaker tub.”

  The image of Gemma removing her dress and slipping into the granite bath made his pelvis tighten uncomfortably. He stuck two fingers under his collar for some air. When her eyes dropped to his neck, he swore to himself. Could his attraction to her any more obvious? Heat sprinted up his spine, and they stared at each other for a long moment. Zale scrambled to find something coherent to say before the silence grew to a scream.

  “I came up here to tell you I don’t need your personal advice.” And just like that, the reason for his visit flared to life again. “I get results and fix the problems that arise because I am in control. If there’s an obstacle, it rests on my shoulders. And why shouldn’t it? These are my hotels. This isn’t a role I take lightly.”

  “Really?” She leaned against the door jam and raised a brow. “I hadn’t noticed.”

  His jaw tightened. “Perhaps it’s easier to be carefree when you’re the heiress of a multi-illion-dollar corporation,” he said, tone cool and controlled despite the temper rising inside him.

  She straightened, chocolate eyes going molten in a flash. “Nothing about my life is carefree.”

  Damn his body for reacting to her haughty stare as though it was sexiest thing he’d ever seen.

  “I’ve put in a full day before most people have breakfast,” she spat out. “There’s no favoritism, no easy breaks for an heiress who actually wants to have a hand in business. Do you think I’ve gotten where I am today by lying on some freakin
g yacht in a bikini made of dental floss?”

  He nearly choked on his tongue at the mental image, all while his respect for her climbed another notch. It wasn’t often that people went toe to toe with him, but Gemma showed no signs of slowing down.

  “It took years for me to climb my way to a management position in the corporate office, and that’s only when I graduated with a Master’s degree at the top of my class. How many parties do you think I attended in college? Because I couldn’t fill one hand if I were counting. There was no time for friends, no time for socializing. I began my career washing dishes and cleaning rooms, then working the desk. When I made my way to sales, I had to take bigger risks, defeat bigger monetary goals than any of my peers just to prove myself.” She was breathing hard when she was done with her tirade. Her cheeks were tinted with a rosy hue, her skin glowing and flushed.

  He moved closer to her. “Why?”

  “Why what?” Her lips were set in a stubborn line.

  “Why go to all the trouble?” He met her gaze, assessing her features even as she was sizing him up in return.

  “Because Dalton will be better with me in control.” There was absolute conviction in her voice. She wasn’t one to underestimate. “Because I won’t let the brand be anything less than the best. So forgive me if I don’t apologize for ruffling your feathers.”

  He bristled. “I didn’t come for an apology.” Since when did he need one?

  She stared at him for one beat, then two, their inflated egos and agendas hanging in the space between them.

  “You came so you could have the last word.” She reached out and closed her hands over the stack of towels. Placing one hand on top and the other below—exactly where his hands were positioned. Her slender fingers mingled with his, brushing against his skin, giving him a jolt of pleasure. He was suddenly all too aware of the rhythm of his heart. She swiped her tongue over her bottom lip, and while the action looked involuntary, the urge to taste her was overwhelming. Time paused, even as the tension morphed from a power struggle to one of unspoken desires. He wasn’t sure who moved first, one small shuffle forward, an innocent tilt of the head, and they were standing inches from one another. He had trouble drawing a breath; this exquisite woman had evaporated the oxygen from his lungs.