Reserved for the Tycoon

by Charlene Sands

  She was an addiction.

  And a challenge.

  Now that Brock knew what he was dealing with, he’d watch his back, cover his bases, but wouldn’t deny himself the pleasurable benefits Vanessa could provide.

  No way would he let her have anything to do with his mother’s and brother’s wedding. He didn’t trust her. But she didn’t know that and he had to keep her thinking that he was clueless.

  Until he tired of the game.

  “Brock,” she huffed out, breathless.

  He searched her deviously gorgeous blue eyes. “What?” he whispered, trailing kisses along her throat. She arched her back instinctively; the erotic move jarred him and he groaned. “Damn it, Vanessa.”

  She had him hot and ready in a flash. He had to control his animal instincts or he’d be dropping her to the floor, right there in the middle of his hotel. He backed away from her and she opened eyes filled with the same hunger as his.

  “Brock,” she murmured, repeating his name. Her voice sounded small and vulnerable this time. Tears filled her eyes. Confusion marred her expression. She shook her head and brushed past him in a flurry, her high heels scraping the marble floor as she raced to get away.

  Stunned, Brock watched her leave, his stomach knotting up and gutted inside.

  She deserves this, he told himself.

  But he walked back to his office without feeling one true ounce of satisfaction.

  Joe’s Tiki Torch was less crowded than usual for hump Wednesday, yet the music blared as if people were packed in wall to wall. Vanessa sat at a small corner table facing her piña colada and her friend Lucy.

  “You didn’t eat much at dinner, now you’re not drinking. What’s up?” Lucy asked, with kindness in her eyes.

  She really was a dear friend, not the frivolous kind that would dump you at the first of sign of trouble, or worse yet, relish your particular anguish. No, Lucy was true blue.

  Which made Vanessa feel terrible about what she’d been trying to do. Pangs of guilt plagued her lately. She’d set out to destroy Brock in his newly renovated hotel, but she’d never contemplated making friends here, ones she cared about dearly.

  Lucy was a gem.

  Akamu had come through like a trooper and a loyal friend on Monday. He’d covered for her and taken care of the conference fiasco on his own—then generously gave her full credit for fixing the very problem she’d tried to create.

  She sighed, plucked out the yellow flowered umbrella from the tall colada glass and took a sip. She couldn’t believe her rotten luck. Who would think a water pipe bursting would actually save Brock’s butt?

  “I’m a little down tonight. Sorry if I’m bad company,” she said to Lucy.

  “That’s why we’re here. To cheer you up! You’ve been like this since Monday.”

  Lucy had asked her several times in the past few days what was wrong and Vanessa had made up one excuse after another. What could she say? I’m falling in love with the man I’m planning on destroying? If I succeed, your job might be in jeopardy.

  She reminded herself to think of all the Melodys in the world who’d been hurt badly by men like Brock. She reminded herself how hard she’d tried to be both mother and father to Melly these past years. She’d protected her from fickle girlfriends, teachers who’d been unfair and cagey young men who weren’t good enough for her. She’d taught her how to drive defensively and how to dance. She’d helped her with her high school prom and college sorority events. She’d always been there for Melody, her baby sister.

  “I’ll lighten up.” She smiled for Lucy and sipped her drink again. The pineapple, coconut and rum slid down her throat like an alcoholic milk shake. “This isn’t half bad.”

  Lucy narrowed her dark eyes and nodded. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

  “I know.” But she couldn’t tell her this.

  Vanessa was asked to dance a few times and each time, with Lucy’s prodding, she got up and danced. Lucy was a free spirit. She lost herself in dance, laughing and moving around the dance floor with her partners without a care in the world.

  Vanessa really tried to lighten up. She wanted to have fun, but lately she felt like a stick in the mud. She’d refused an offer to go outside and get some air and another blatant offer to see her dance partner’s own tiki torch.

  She sat down, winded, looking at her watch and wishing she’d driven her own car to the bar. Those thoughts were quadrupled when Brock walked into the Torch with Larissa Montrayne, the woman who’d monopolized all of Brock’s time the other night. Supposedly, she was engaged to be married, but one wouldn’t know it by the way she clung to Brock’s arm. They strode up to the bar, their backs to her.

  Vanessa turned away from them, wishing she could escape out the back door. She met with Lucy’s questioning stare instead. “You look like a tiger ready to pounce.”

  Vanessa clenched her teeth. “No, I don’t. I’m fine.” She plastered on a fake smile.

  “You don’t look fine.” Lucy looked around the entire room and stopped when she spotted Brock with Larissa at the bar. She cast Vanessa a sympathetic look. “Oh, I get it now.”

  “I don’t think so,” Vanessa said, keeping her voice down. “But I can’t talk about it here.”

  “Do you want to leave?”

  The question was music to her ears. She grabbed her purse. “Let’s not stop to say hello.”

  Lucy nodded and rose from the table. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

  They slipped out the front door without Brock noticing them. He was oblivious to anything but what he wanted, when he wanted it.

  He’d made love to Vanessa days ago, then kissed her with enough passion to make her toes curl and her heart ache every time they’d been together since. He’d made her doubt herself, her intentions and her life.

  But she was glad she’d come here tonight.

  Seeing him with another woman firmed up her resolve. Seeing him with Larissa reminded her what kind of man he really was. She’d been a fool. She wouldn’t allow herself warm feelings for him. She certainly wouldn’t fall in love with him now. Her course was set. She wasn’t finished with Brock yet. She owed him for the pain he’d caused her sister. She had three major events coming up and the plans to disrupt each one were solidly planted in her head.

  There was no turning back.

  Brock would get exactly what was coming to him.

  Nine

  “I want to give you what you’ve got coming, Vanessa,” Brock said, standing behind his desk wearing a devastating smile. She’d been summoned to his office just a few minutes ago and hadn’t a clue what he’d wanted.

  He paced now, hands clasped behind his back. In an uncharacteristic business tone, one he almost never took with Vanessa, he began, “You’ve been here about six weeks now.”

  Vanessa nodded, estimating in her head that he was correct give or take a day.

  “And in that time, you’ve worked hard. I’ve seen the hours you put in. Your efforts haven’t gone unnoticed.” His sensuous mouth curled up in another smile. “I’m speaking as your employer now, Vanessa.”

  She gulped. What was Brock up to?

  “Let me get to the point, I’m giving you a bonus.”

  Vanessa flinched inwardly. How had she botched up her plan so much that Brock offered up a bonus? The news crushed her, but she maintained her outward composure.

  “Since you’ve been here, working on events, the hotel has thrived.”

  “Oh.” More bad news.

  Vanessa kept disappointment from her voice the best she could. Her last three attempted foul-ups had become hugely successful events. “I’m happy to hear that.”

  “I’m sure you are.” Brock’s tone sharpened for a second. “It’s why I hired you. I knew you were the only one for the job.”

  She nodded with a feigned smile, swallowing a lump that lodged in the pit of her stomach. It was still a mystery to her how she’d deliberately underbooked last weekend’s luau only to have the
event sell out at the last minute.

  The amateur Surf and Turf BBQ on the beach had gone off without a hitch, even though she’d misplaced the surfboards and made sure the propane tanks were empty in the gas grills. But no panic ensued. Somehow, everything had come together and the guests wound up having a marvelous time.

  Even the one hundred geckos released around the pool during the new innovative Water Massage Demonstration hadn’t caused the uproar she’d hoped. Hotel security had rounded up the tiny green lizards within seconds. There’d been no scrambling, no wild screams from the guests, no chaos. In fact, the slight disturbance only proved how well the water massage worked. The guest going through the demonstration hadn’t even flinched, displaying uncanny evidence how effective the relaxing technique worked.

  Vanessa had failed miserably and now, adding insult to injury, Brock handed her a bonus envelope. “You deserve this more than I can say.”

  She gazed down at the envelope, biting her lip. “Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome. Open it.”

  “No, I, uh…I’ll open it later.”

  Goodness, she didn’t want to see the monetary extent of her failure. She didn’t know if she could pull off a grateful smile. Tears threatened and she banked them down.

  “If that’s what you want. You’ll find it generous. Personal feelings aside, you’ve done a bang-up job here at Tempest Maui.”

  Botched was the better term. “Thank you, Brock. Anything else?”

  Brock relaxed his stance and came around his desk. Leaning on the corner, he folded his arms over his chest. “How are the wedding plans going?”

  She blinked. “Smoothly.”

  “Great. Is there anything you need from me?”

  Vanessa shook her head. “Not at the moment.” She’d hoped she’d have ruined him by now. Instead, she’d helped his hotel make money hand over fist. How had that happened?

  Baffled, Vanessa debated about whether or not to sabotage the double wedding. It would be lower than low on her part. Brock’s mother had finally found happiness after years of being a widow. But, how better to ruin the hotel’s reputation if the owner’s very own family wedding turned out as a nightmarish fiasco?

  Her face fell at the prospect.

  “Anything wrong, Vanessa?”

  “What?” Vanessa peered into Brock’s concerned eyes. “Oh, no.” She waved the unopened bonus envelope in the air. “What could be wrong? I’m glad you’re happy with my work.”

  Brock slanted her a look. “Thrilled is more like it. I’ll probably win my bet with Trent. And I have you to thank for that.”

  Her heart sunk to her feet. “Right, the bet that your hotel will outperform his hotel in Arizona.”

  “Then there’s the matter of winning my father’s classic Thunderbird.” Brock’s voice quieted and he gazed deep into her eyes. “I can’t wait to show you that car.”

  The moment Brock lifted up and approached her with a hot gleam in his eyes, Vanessa spotted trouble with a capital T. She backed up instantly, almost stumbling. “I’d better get back to work.”

  Brock pursed his lips, disappointed, but he let her go without stopping her and she made a clumsy escape. She had big decisions to make regarding the Tyler double wedding coming up next week.

  Could she destroy two innocent Tyler weddings just to prove a point?

  At the end of the day she walked out of her office, the Tempest envelope stuck between her checkbooks and her wallet in her purse, still unopened. She hated that it was in there, hated what it represented.

  When she reached her condo, she stripped out of her clothes, ran bathwater scented with plumeria and stepped in. Warm water surrounded her weary bones and she melted into the sweetly fragranced bath until she finally relaxed.

  When Plan A doesn’t work, you go to Plan B, she told herself. But Vanessa didn’t have another plan. Certain that her sabotage would work and she’d be free of Brock Tyler by now, Vanessa had only this one vision.

  “Now what?” she whispered, cupping water over her bare shoulders and arms.

  Vanessa glanced at her new Lily’s Designs alligator purse she’d tossed on the bathroom counter. Not a knockoff this time. Lily herself had given the purse to her after the conference concluded for a job well done.

  Another reflection of her plan gone awry.

  Her muscles tightened once again. She glared at the purse, thought of the bonus it housed inside and mentally chastised herself all over again for failing.

  “Don’t open it, Vanessa. Don’t cash the check. Don’t even think about it.”

  But curiosity got the better of her. She stepped out of the tub, covered herself with a big towel and walked over to her purse. Biting her lip, she snapped it open and pulled the envelope out.

  On a deep breath, she ripped open the envelope and gasped when she saw the amount on the check. Tears immediately welled up. She’d made Brock a fortune and he’d given her a percentage of that for her good work.

  She found a note enfolded inside the envelope. With a flick of her fingers, the note parted.

  Join me tonight on the Rebecca at seven sharp to celebrate.

  Vanessa stared at the note. Those commanding words just added to her dismay. Brock thought he could summon her at his will, whenever he wanted. Anger bubbled up. Her nerves grew tight. Her body shook. The implication was clear. He’d given her a large amount of money and now expected her to pay up with the one other thing that was important to him. Sex. She whispered, “How dare you, Brock.”

  Vanessa dressed quickly, putting on a seductive little gown, piled her hair up with a clip and put on her best jewelry. She wanted out. And she wanted Brock to see what he’d be missing when she told him off and walked out on him.

  Vanessa reached the yacht just as the sun set on the horizon. Festive twinkling lights illuminated the marina and dock, guiding her way to Brock’s boat.

  She found Brock easily enough, looking handsome in tan trousers and a black silk shirt on the deck, waving her aboard. He met her when she approached and helped her climb the steps. “Glad you could make it.”

  She nearly snorted. “Did I have a choice?”

  Brock grinned and took her hand. “I have something to show you.”

  “I bet you do.”

  He guided her down the stairs leading to the main sitting room. Suddenly, bright lights flashed, cameras went off and a roomful of people called out, “Surprise!”

  Startled, Vanessa backed up a step, only to fall back against Brock’s willing arms. She righted herself and looked up at the sign above the wet bar. “Vanessa Dupree—Tempest Employee of the Month.”

  She glanced at Lucy, who couldn’t keep from grinning, Akamu and two dozen coworkers she’d come to know from the Tempest offices, all welcoming her with smiles. She turned to Brock. “Are you serious?”

  He smiled, a gleam in his eyes unreadable. “Dead serious.”

  “You throw an elaborate party for your Employees of the Month?”

  “Not every month. Just when someone exceeds our expectations.”

  A glass of champagne was shoved into her hand and Lucy came over to give her a hug. “Congrats. This is a great honor.”

  “But I…um.” What could she say? “Thanks.”

  Brock took that opportunity to give a little speech about the hotel’s recent success and Vanessa’s part in that. She was met with a round of applause and afterward they dined on a catered buffet outside on the deck. The night was warm for late winter, but that didn’t stop Vanessa from getting chilled to the bone.

  She hadn’t expected this. None of it. She didn’t deserve the friends she’d made here. She didn’t deserve to have Lucy’s and Akamu’s support and love, either.

  The yacht toured the bay, moving slowly and Vanessa found herself alone at the railing, looking out at Tranquility Bay, fully enraptured in the moment.

  A wealth of emotions sought her out: guilt, joy, loyalty, deceit, allegiance, cowardice. Her head spun with confusing th
oughts. And then the “if onlys” took hold.

  If only all of this was real, the job and the friends she’d made here.

  If only she deserved the honors bestowed upon her for a job well done.

  If only she was free to fall in love with Brock Tyler without guilt or deception.

  When the yacht docked, Vanessa said goodbye to all of her friends and coworkers, thanking them for coming and sharing this special time with her.

  After everyone had left, Brock walked up to her, took her hand, and she gazed deep into his eyes. She’d accused him of horrible things, but he’d been up front and honest with her. More than she’d been with him.

  Except, one thing bothered her and she had to know the truth. “I saw you at the Torch with Larissa Montrayne the other night.”

  “I was there.” He nodded quietly and sipped his champagne.

  “You admit it?”

  “Yes. I didn’t see you.”

  “I left.”

  “If you’d have stayed longer, you would have seen her fiancé come in. I met Larissa in the parking lot. I didn’t take her there. She’d been waiting for him and we decided to grab a drink inside.”

  “That’s it?”

  “That’s it.” He leaned in and kissed her lips. He tasted of warm alcohol, smelled like musk and looked like sin itself. “Anything else?”

  Had it been that simple? Had Brock met Larissa like he’d claimed? Had it been an accidental meeting? She’d only stuck around for a minute after seeing him at the Torch before thinking the worst and running off.

  Vanessa connected with his eyes. Whenever he looked at her she saw desire, a mesmerizing gleam that drew her in with magnetic force. She swallowed hard and did a mental head shake.

  She’d come here so determined and now she felt herself melting, losing herself in him again. “I should go,” she whispered.

  Brock cupped her face with one hand. “I need you tonight, Vanessa.”

  It wasn’t a command or a demand. It was a statement of fact. The sweetly earnest tone of his voice charmed her.

  “Why me, Brock?” Her question slipped out. It was a question she’d been asking herself since she arrived on the island. They’d been inexplicably drawn together and it was the last thing she’d wanted.