“We have discussed it, dear. We think it’s the perfect location,” she said.
“I thought you’d want to marry at Crimson Canyon,” he said to Julia and Trent.
“Mom wants a tropical wedding on the beach. And Julia and I are fine with it,” Trent said. Julia gazed adoringly at her fiancé. “We have our whole lives in the canyon to look forward to.”
Trent bent to kiss her lips.
Brock nodded. “Okay, we’ll have your wedding at Tempest Maui.” Brock realized he didn’t sound enthusiastic so he put on a big smile. “It’ll be my pleasure and an honor.”
If it wasn’t a disaster.
The pressure was on. Brock would never live it down if something fouled up the double ceremony. Not that he had any reason to believe so. The first wedding at his Hawaiian resort had been flawed, but they’d since ironed out all the problems. The Fashion Institute’s gala should go smoothly today and they’d be on the right track again.
“I’ll check with Vanessa, my event planner, when I get back and we’ll discuss wedding dates that work for everyone.”
An image of Vanessa as he left her last night, half-naked, her eyes a soft glaze of blue and her gorgeous body glistening with the afterglow of her powerful climax stuck in his mind. His groin tightened with a need so dire it shocked him. He pictured her here, with all that platinum hair flowing, laughing beside him as she charmed his family.
The mental picture gave him pause.
“Lunch is ready,” Evan said, to Brock’s relief. He was grateful for the distraction.
Evan ushered them to their places in the dining room. “Let’s discuss the weddings as we celebrate Mom and Matthew’s engagement.”
“But first, a toast,” Brock said, picking up a champagne flute and looking at his family members, their numbers increasing with wives and babies. He was the outsider, the man alone, the sole bachelor in the family and Brock didn’t mind at all.
He was in his comfort zone.
Brock wouldn’t think of Vanessa Dupree as the woman who would settle him down and have his children.
And that was the biggest comfort of all.
Vanessa rubbed sunscreen on her legs and arms, then lowered herself down on a beach towel and let the Hawaiian rays warm her. It wasn’t an overly hot day, but she wouldn’t complain. It was February, and back on the mainland where she grew up near Baton Rouge, the temps were in the middle sixties. Here on Maui, the sun shone warm and soaked into her skin with a pleasant heat.
Instead of doing laundry at her condo on her afternoon off, she decided to treat herself to some R & R on the sands of Tranquility Bay. It was a celebration of sorts. She’d gotten really lucky, managing to foul up the fashion gala three days ago while Brock was out of town. Everything had gone as she’d anticipated. The lighting, the slideshow in the background, the seating arrangements, had all mysteriously gone awry, making Tempest Maui look like an amateur high school production rather than the five-star resort that it claimed to be.
She closed her eyes, commending herself on a job well done. If she managed to hold on to her employ long enough, she’d ruin Brock Tyler’s business.
At least temporarily. Men like Brock didn’t fail. He’d come back strong, she was certain. But as long as she tossed stumbling blocks on his path to success, making his road harder to navigate, she’d be satisfied. It might make him stand up and take notice that people weren’t put on this earth for his sole pleasure and entertainment.
The way Melody described how he’d courted her, lavishing her with expensive gifts, treating her like royalty, focusing all his attention on her, thus making her fall head over heels for him, had disgusted her. He’d dumped her sister like a hot potato when he’d met another woman who’d intrigued him more. Vanessa’s blood boiled, and the reminder cemented her resolve. She wouldn’t allow guilty feelings to intervene. Akamu wouldn’t take the heat from this last foul-up. Lucy hadn’t been involved. Her new friends were in the clear.
It was all on her. She was the Tempest event planner. The buck stopped here.
She’d lucked out that Brock had been gone these past few days. She hadn’t seen or spoken with him since he’d left her rather stunned in her condo on Saturday night. She’d melted into a puddle from his kisses and allowed him liberties far beyond what she’d ever expected to allow.
She squeezed her eyes tight, attempting to block out the memory. Brock had shattered her. He’d made her come alive. She’d splintered before his eyes and she’d come up panting and shamelessly wanting more. The only thing stopping her from dire mortification that night had been the hungry, appreciative look on Brock’s face.
He hadn’t been proving a point. He hadn’t resorted to revenge for her walking out on him after the dinner. No, he’d been fully, deeply involved. He had regret in his eyes when he’d left her. He had wanted to stay. Later, she found out why he’d taken that midnight flight. He wouldn’t miss his mother’s engagement celebration.
Vanessa rolled onto her stomach and picked up her cell phone. She punched in Melody’s auto-dial number. The phone rang and rang. “Where are you, Melly?” she mumbled, right before her answering machine clicked on.
“Hi! You’ve reached Melody. You know the drill. I’ll get to ya when I can.” Melody’s beaming voice brought a quick smile to Vanessa’s face, before she frowned.
“Hi, Mel, where are you? I’ve been trying to reach you today. Call your big sister as soon as you can.”
Vanessa worried about her sister’s state of mind. Melody had been distraught and depressed when she’d left for Maui, but Melody assured her she’d manage. She’d encouraged her to go.
An hour later, sunbathed and more relaxed than she’d been in weeks, Vanessa packed up her beach gear. She bent to pick up her striped beach towel. As she turned around she came face-to-face with Brock. “Oh!”
Where had he come from? With his chest bare, wearing tan shorts and running shoes, she noted he was out of breath. He’d been running on the beach.
He watched her fidget with the items she held in her hand, keeping the towel close to her bikini-clad body. Her face flamed and she decided it was a good thing the sun shone bright today. She’d blame her flush on the heat.
“Hello, Vanessa.”
“Um, hi.” She gazed out at the aqua waters unnerved by the way he looked at her. A thought struck. “It’s my afternoon off. I wasn’t—”
He took the towel from her hands and raked his eyes over her black bikini, or rather the parts of her body the bikini didn’t cover. “I know.”
They stared at each other for a long moment.
Her traitorous heart flipped over itself. She’d expected fear, loathing or something akin to dismay, seeing him again. But what she felt was…thrilling.
She filled her gaze with him. Why did he have this effect on her?
“Sit down for a minute, Vanessa.”
She nibbled on her lower lip. This wasn’t a request, but a command.
He set the beach blanket out onto the sand and gestured. She sat, then he sat. Both gazed at the waves rippling to the shore in white froth.
“It’s good to see you,” he said.
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. “Thank…you.”
Oh, Lord, Vanessa. Get a grip.
His shoulder brushed hers. A golden sheen coated his muscled chest. Vanessa was fully aware of him, the faint scent of sandalwood and man oozing from his body.
“I’ve been gone for three days and frankly, I wasn’t happy with how we left things the other night.”
“How was that?” she blurted. She wasn’t sure what he was getting at and frankly, she didn’t want this conversation. The irony astounded her. With miles of clear blue seas and pristine sand surrounding her, she felt trapped and couldn’t find a way out of this exchange.
“Unfinished.”
Vanessa blinked and her nerves jangled. “Maybe,” she began, nibbling once again on her lower lip, “it was a good thing that you left
when you did.”
“I had to go. I didn’t want to, Vanessa. I had a midnight flight to catch to the mainland. I don’t think you wanted me to go either. I’m usually not a love ’em and leave ’em kind of man.”
Liar. Melody’s tearful face flashed in her mind.
“Okay.” She had to play along. She wasn’t finished with Brock yet.
“As long as we’re clear about that.”
“All clear.” She feigned a big smile.
“Now, maybe you can tell me what happened at the fashion gala. I didn’t get a glowing report. Quite the contrary, actually.”
Vanessa spent the next ten minutes bluffing her way through an explanation. Brock listened intently, nodded his head and asked a few key questions. She’d expected these questions and had rehearsed the answers.
Brock glanced at her lips on several occasions. He lowered his gaze many times, too, his gorgeous dark eyes roaming over her skin.
When she was through explaining her way out of the gala catastrophe, Brock leaned back on his elbows and took a deep breath. “Spend the night with me, Vanessa.”
Just like that, he’d voiced his innermost desires and expected her to comply. For a brief moment, the temptation to spend the night in Brock’s arms carried in her thoughts. “When?”
“Tonight.” She felt the heat of his penetrating gaze on her back.
“I can’t. I have plans with…Lucy.”
Brock sat up again and gazed into her eyes as if searching her for the truth. “Okay.”
She sent him a regretful smile.
Brock’s expression changed and he became thoughtful. “I need to take a more active role in the hotel. I’ve been absent each time we had an important event. Next time, I won’t be gone. I expect you to accompany me to the luau on Saturday night. Between the both of us, we’ll make sure there are no missteps.”
Now, her goose was cooked. “That’s a good idea.”
Brock stood and looked at her. Then he reached down, his hand outstretched. She slid her hand in his and he drew her upright and into his arms smoothly. His hands splayed over her waist. “Just so we’re clear,” he repeated, before dipping his head and slanting his lips over hers. Their bodies brushed, her breasts covered in the slightest cotton material, pressed his chest.
The kiss nearly buckled her knees. When he broke off the kiss and gazed into her eyes, she nodded and managed, “Very clear.”
Six
V anessa adjusted her pareo around her body in the most flattering way possible. She tied the black material garnished with printed white gardenias slightly above her breasts into a bow the way Lucy had shown her. The sarong fell to just below her knees in an elegant angle.
“There,” she said, looking at her reflection in the mirror. “Not bad for a mainlander.”
Once satisfied with the dress, Vanessa swept her hair up in a twist and placed a fresh orchid behind her right ear, pinning it in place. She applied pink lip gloss, slanted a mascara wand over her lashes a few times and slipped her feet into a pair of strapless sandals.
“All set for the luau?” Lucy walked into the room, sipping on a fruit smoothie.
Vanessa turned away from the mirror to face her friend. “How do I look?”
“The pareo was made for you,” Lucy said, coming to stand beside her. “You look like an island princess, Waneka.”
Vanessa smiled as the phonetic Hawaiian name rolled off Lucy’s lips. With Lucy’s long raven hair and her dark natural skin tone, she was the true island beauty. “You fit the part better, Luana.”
Lucy shrugged. “I bet Mr. Tyler doesn’t think so. You’re the one he’s always watching.”
Because he’s suspicious of me, Vanessa thought wryly. Or maybe her guilty conscience was in overdrive tonight. Because, this evening her friends would be involved. Tonight, Akamu would oversee the food preparations and Lucy was in charge of the entertainment.
Brock was getting what he deserved, but her friends might take the heat when things got chaotic during the luau and Vanessa cringed at that thought.
She and Lucy drove separately to the hotel, Lucy giving her a knowing look when she explained that Brock insisted that she accompany him to the event for business reasons.
Once she arrived, she headed for his office and knocked on Brock’s door.
“Come in,” he said, and she found him at his desk, flipping through a batch of papers.
When he looked up, his eyes took on a warm glow. “Wow.” He rose from his seat and walked around his desk. She wanted to exclaim “wow,” too, but held her tongue. He looked like the millions she knew he had, casual but classy in tan slacks and a black silk shirt. He’d combed his dark hair back, accentuating strong bone structure and those knockout deep brown eyes.
Vanessa’s blood surged in her veins. Her boss was sexy and she wasn’t immune. The air sizzled around them, the sweetly fragrant Hawaiian scents adding allure to a room filled with tension.
“You look…almost perfect.” He stood before her and reached for the orchid in her hair, removing it from her right ear. He placed it behind her left ear and nodded his approval. “Now, it’s perfect.”
Vanessa touched her hair, questioning him silently.
“Wearing it on the left side means the woman is taken.”
“Oh.” The explanation stunned her for a moment. His implication was clear.
He smiled and toyed with the bow around her breasts. One manly tug and her dress would be a gossamer puddle around her feet. “Do you know the restraint I’m managing, not to unravel you out of this dress.”
Vanessa swallowed. “It’s called a pareo.”
Brock grinned. “You’re learning.” Then his eyes darkened to an even deeper brown. “But that’s not my point.”
For a fleeting moment, she wanted to be unraveled out of her sarong and tossed onto his desk caveman-style, disregarding all sense of reason.
He lowered his voice. “It would be so easy, Vanessa.” He tugged on the sash beneath the bow gently. “Would you like that?”
Vanessa blinked and then closed her eyes. Oh, God. She would love it.
His lips brushed hers tenderly and she snapped her eyes open. But the kiss was so breathtakingly good she closed her eyes again, wrapped her arms around his neck and simply enjoyed the taste of Brock and his subtle sandalwood scent that made her heart beat like crazy.
His hands caressed her derriere and he deepened the kiss, applying pressure to her lips. Bringing her up close, he rubbed her against his rising manhood and she moaned longingly, the sound escaping before she could stop it.
“Damn, Vanessa,” he whispered, breaking off his kiss and the hold he had on her. “Don’t make plans for later tonight. We’re going to finish this.”
He took her hand and led her out of his office, heading outside as the sun set in orange hues over Tranquility Bay.
Ten minutes later disaster struck…right on cue. Brock stood beside her and Akamu on the hotel’s private beach lit by tiki torches when all hell broke loose. He glanced at the reservation book. “There’s at least one hundred extra people waiting in line, all claiming to have made reservations. Their names are not on our list.” He yanked off the orchid lei from his neck and stared at Vanessa.
She heard the buzz of irate conversations from the people waiting in line and her stomach churned. Brock waited for her response.
“I don’t get it. We’ve verified all the names on the guest list. We only signed up two hundred. We’re not equipped for this many people. I’ll turn them away with our deepest apologies.”
That had been her plan. Turn them away disgruntled. Word of mouth would spread like wildfire.
“They’re not going to like that. Those people are hungry and cranky, boss.” Akamu shook his head and gazed at the line, his eyes wide with horror.
“What’s your solution then?” Brock glanced from Akamu to Vanessa. “Well?”
“I’m sorry, I have no idea how this happened.” Vanessa’s apology met w
ith deaf ears. “Maybe a computer glitch?” She’d managed to sabotage the guest book, deleting names and adding to the list all week long. It hadn’t been difficult. “We could invite them back tomorrow night.”
Brock’s jaw tightened. “No. We’re going to accommodate them tonight.”
Vanessa’s brows shot up in surprise. “How?”
He turned to Akamu. “Get into the kitchen. Have the chefs prepare one hundred more servings of side dishes. Make some calls to local restaurants. Beg and borrow, steal if necessary, fifty pounds of Kalua pig. Vanessa, you get housekeeping out here and have them set up any tables they can get their hands on. We won’t turn these guests away. I’ll make the rounds and speak with them myself. Let them know they’ll be my guests for a complimentary breakfast on the beach tomorrow.”
Akamu and Vanessa nodded.
“Go,” he ordered and Vanessa saw the look of disdain on his face. She suspected Brock Tyler didn’t like apologizing to anyone about anything.
Her insides knotted with tension. She’d never been a witness to Brock’s wrath, but he was certainly not happy with her right now.
This may very well be her last night on the job.
Brock settled the mess at the luau and sat down more than an hour later, finally grabbing a bite to eat. Vanessa had been quiet though diligent in getting the extra guests seated and fed. It had taken nearly an entire hour, delaying the meal and the performances, to appease one hundred grumpy guests. Many were still not happy with their seats or the situation.
A strange wary feeling stormed his gut and he looked at Vanessa, seated across from him, eating mochiko chicken. She looked so beautiful and so…aloof. When she glanced at him, he couldn’t read those deep sea-blue eyes.
The disaster had been averted somewhat. Brock had seen to it, but the damage had been done. Those additional guests had gotten a raw deal and Brock wasn’t happy about that. The fact that his first important hotel events had been faulty, churned in his stomach.
His pride and ego were on the line.
Trent would never let him live it down if he didn’t come out the winner.
Reserved for the Tycoon Page 6