Worth the Challenge

by Erickson, Karen

  Rhett swallowed hard. “I think it sounds great.”

  “We’ll consider it. I know Hunter has a list already started.” Rhett heard the tap, tap, tap of Alex’s pen. “When will Gabriella be ready to share the scent? Are you focusing on one in particular or does she want to offer a few choices so we could narrow it down?”

  Panic clawed at Rhett’s chest. He suddenly felt the need for a paper bag so he could hyperventilate into it. “Probably a few choices. She isn’t stuck on one particular scent at the moment.” Hell, he was making it up as he went along. Like usual.

  “And you two are getting along, right?” Alex’s voice lowered. “No funny business involved?”

  The king of funny business had the nerve to ask him that? “Aren’t you the one who messed around with your assistant while working in Europe?” Rhett pointed out not-so-kindly. All the questions made him irritable. Real life had a rude way of butting its ugly head in and ruining his good time.

  “That was different.” Alex sniffed. “We were halfway in love by the time we got to Paris. You, on the other hand, hardly know this woman.”

  Rhett knew he didn’t like the thought of being away from her for too long. Even now, with him inside the villa and her sitting outside nearby, he felt a loss. Like he needed to go to her and touch her, hold her tight. Make everything better just by being connected to her.

  “I have to go. I’ll call you when we arrive in New York.” Rhett ended the call before Alex could say another word, guilt lingering within him. He hardly ever cut off his oldest brother, usually saving that sort of behavior for Hunter, but he didn’t want to deal with the questions. It all made him feel like a failure.

  And he was going to fuck up this project, he knew it. He could feel it in his bones. It was his fault Gabriella was distracted and could hardly work on the scent. He kept her too busy in bed to think about much else.

  Or maybe that was his problem. She was all he thought about. He thought his obsession was bad before he slept with her…

  He stepped out onto the deck, noticed that she stared off into space, a dreamy expression on her face. Often he found her like that. Thinking, dreaming, over what, he wasn’t sure.

  “What are you doing?”

  She startled, turning around to glare at him with a hand resting over her chest. “You scared me to death.”

  “Sorry.” He leaned in for a quick kiss before he settled in the chair next to her.

  “Were you on the phone?”

  He nodded grimly. “With Alex.”

  “Oh.” She glanced down at her notebook, chewing on her lower lip. “Did he ask about the scent?”

  “He did.” He tried his best to keep his voice neutral but it was difficult. “He asked how you were progressing.”

  “And what did you tell him?”

  A bunch of lies to keep him happy. “I said everything was coming together.”

  Her eyes filled with tears and she turned away from him, covering her eyes with her hands. “Great, so you lied. Your brothers are going to hate my concept.”

  “No, they won’t.” He reached for her, but she pulled away, dropping her hands to glare at him. “They’ll love it.” How he wished he could ask what the hell it actually was.

  She slammed her notebook shut, making the table rattle with the force of it. “I doubt that. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.” Sighing, she stood and walked toward the ledge of the deck, resting her arms on it so she could stare out at the ocean.

  Rhett followed her, suddenly afraid to get too close. She’d been edgy, almost despondent for the last few hours, and he wasn’t sure what was bothering her or why. “Is something wrong?” Christ, he wanted to roll his eyes at himself. He sounded like a chick.

  “Nothing you could help me with.” She kept her gaze trained straight ahead and he noticed her eyes were still watery with tears.

  “Try me.” He leaned his arms on the wooden ledge close to hers.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned to look at him. “My father called me this morning.”

  Rhett frowned. “Is everything all right?” He knew somewhat of how guilty she felt, leaving her father back home. How odd he’d become over the years, how obligated she felt to take care of him. How he hadn’t necessarily encouraged her to take the job with Worth, which had secretly devastated her though she wasn’t one to go into details about it.

  “He called to let me know he accepted a job offer. He leaves next week for Italy.” She slowly shook her head.

  “With who?” Unease settled within him as he waited for her answer.

  “Renaldi.”

  He clenched his jaw. The Renaldi brand was one of their biggest competitors. His father had hated Giorgio Renaldi tremendously, had always accused him of being a dirty-handed liar and cheat. “You’re kidding.”

  “I wish I was.” She turned to face him, her cheeks streaked with tears. “Imagine them wanting to all of a sudden launch a perfume when they’d never done so before? Sort of strange, don’t you think?”

  “An odd coincidence,” Rhett said carefully.

  “This is no coincidence,” she said bitterly. “He told them. My father went to Renaldi and told them about Worth and then offered his services for more money, I’m sure of it.”

  His heart sank. Alex and Hunter would hit the roof when they heard this. “How do you know? Did your father tell you this?”

  “He didn’t have to. I just know.” She pushed away from the ledge and started for the villa. “I don’t blame you if you hate me. My father double-crossed you, he double-crossed me. He duped all of us.”

  Rhett grabbed her before she slipped inside the house, forcing her to turn around and face him. The tears were still there, accompanied by a look of such disgust, such absolute misery, it nearly broke his heart. “You’re overreacting. I don’t hate you,” he said. “I could never hate you. And you’re not your father’s keeper.”

  “Yes, I am! I thought I could trust him. He betrayed me, Rhett. And in turn, he betrayed you.”

  “How? He’s a perfumer, you’re a perfumer. If you both want to maintain successful careers, you’re going to each have to work at businesses that compete with each other.” He was acting way more nonchalant about this than he felt. “It’s bound to happen.”

  She sucked in a deep breath. “I feel like he ran with this information straight to Renaldi.”

  “Who’s to say someone from Renaldi didn’t contact him? You know, my father always hated Giorgio Renaldi.”

  “Really?” She frowned.

  “They were bitter rivals. I don’t remember much since I was so young, but according to Alex, my father always had a soft spot for the wife. Claudia Renaldi is a very beautiful woman.”

  “Hmm.” She’d met the Renaldis once, long ago at some industry social event. She could hardly remember them, though she recalled the wife had worn plenty of jewelry, which she’d greatly admired as a girl.

  How her father had contacted them and ended up with a job in Italy, she wasn’t quite sure. Could hardly wrap her head around it, really.

  “What your father is doing and who he’s working for won’t interfere with our working relationship. I won’t let it.” Rhett wrapped his arm around her slender shoulders and pulled her close. “It’s easy for me to say, but don’t let it bother you. We need to concentrate on our project, not worry about what your father might be doing.”

  She sighed, buried her face against his chest. The sensation of her warm breath through the thin fabric of his shirt made his body react like the horny bastard he was. “You’re right. I’ve been gathering notes, coming up with some formulas. I’m not sure if they’re what you’re looking for, but once we return to New York, I’ll send my formulas to the lab and see what we can come up with.”

  “Is it enough, you think?” He tried his best to keep the worry from his tone but it proved difficult.

  And this ultra-perceptive woman picked right up on it. “I don’t know.” She met his gaze, hers unwa
vering, her expression daring him to protest.

  Well. He appreciated her honesty.

  It also scared the hell out of him.

  After reassuring Rhett she most certainly had everything under control, Ella had hidden away in her bedroom, telling him she needed to work. He’d tried to convince her to at least go out to the beach with him, where she could sit under an umbrella and pour over her newly created formulas.

  But she wanted to do it alone. In private. She needed the quiet, the absolute stillness of the empty, silent room. The only sound the fan whirling slowly overhead, the faint murmuring buzz of the motor soothing her frazzled nerves.

  Eventually she started to take notes, redoing formulas, trying to figure what fit best where. The scratching of her pen on the thick paper within her notebook seemed extra loud, as did the clicking of her fingers on the keyboard of her tiny laptop.

  She hadn’t worked in such silence for so long, it felt odd.

  When she wasn’t calculating formulas, she conducted research via the web. Even fired off a few emails, one to her mentor, a lovely woman who’d once worked with her father and now another to a former instructor at Givaudan. She offered them hints of her newly created scents, asking might she be on the proper track if she wanted to create an unusual but identifiable tropical scent.

  Their lack of response scared her to death. What if she was completely wrong? What if she formulated all three juices, brought them as samples and the Worth executives hated every single one? She had no time to go back and recreate something from scratch. Rhett had already made that clear. She’d been under the gun from the moment she took the position.

  And yet she’d fooled around during most of their time on the island. Too enamored with Rhett, too captivated by the way he smiled at her, kissed her, made love to her…

  Frowning, she shut her laptop, dismissing her empty inbox. They would eventually reply. They always did. The time difference was tremendous and besides, she was being foolish, willing the return emails to appear like she had magical powers.

  If she had magical powers, she’d snap her fingers and have the perfect scent created. The Worths would celebrate her. The entire industry would declare her brilliant. And Rhett…

  Rhett would wrap her in his arms and whisper that he never wanted to let her go.

  Literally snorting, Ella stood and went to the window, staring out at the ocean. It was yet another beautiful day on Maui, her last, and she spent it cooped away in the room she’d hardly used since arriving. They’d slept in this bed their first night there, the first time they had sex, then moved to Rhett’s room the next day.

  She cracked open the window, allowing the scent to waft in on the gentle breeze. A mixture of heat and sand, the salty, slightly algae smell of the ocean and a hint of blooming native flowers, it was what she so desperately tried to capture.

  It scared her, how unsure she felt. How risky this entire endeavor was. She was already feeling on unstable ground when she received the phone call earlier. Her father, giddy with his news, proudly proclaiming how he’d somehow come in contact with one of the Renaldi brothers, letting them know he’d seriously considered taking on the Worth perfumer contract but ultimately told them no.

  What would it take to have you take on a perfume assignment again? the Renaldi brother had asked her father.

  Too much for you to fathom, he’d answered, laughing when he recounted the story for Ella’s benefit.

  She hadn’t wanted to hear it. The news had made her sick when he announced the amount of money they were willing to offer him. An exclusive two-year contract, he’d boasted. Near complete creative control, not only would he formulate the juice, he would have a say in the final decision as well.

  Practically unheard of in the industry, and her father had scored such a deal. She still could hardly believe it.

  You need to learn how to negotiate properly, he’d chastised her, his voice gruffer than usual. His disappointment had been palpable, even over the phone. You take the first deal you’re offered and allow them the ability to cut you off as quickly as they hired you. You’re a fool.

  She was a fool to believe her father would be proud of her. He was selfish. She’d known this her entire life but had chosen to ignore it. No child wanted to admit their parent didn’t care for them properly, was too wrapped up in their own lives to attend to the needs of those who solely depended on them.

  When she was small, she’d at first feigned interest in scent. As she grew older, she realized she had a true talent, a gift. A nose, her father had proclaimed to his friends and colleagues. He’d told everyone his daughter had as good a nose as he and everyone knew how refined his was.

  She’d become a perfumer because she’d known nothing else. And for the first time in her life, she resented it. Resented her father, the life he’d provided her, the lack of choices. She’d had no choice. She was who she was because of him.

  The burden to impress, to prove to all she was just as good and someday would most likely be better than Michel Durand was exceptionally heavy. Her father believed she would fail. Oh, he didn’t outright say so, but he didn’t need to. He believed she would never amount to anything.

  Or that she would never amount to the greatness that was Michel Durand. She lived in his shadow her entire life. And it was so dark and so long, it nearly consumed her.

  A knock sounded at the door and then it opened, Rhett peeking his head around it. His eyes were gentle, as was the smile that curved his full mouth. He was devastatingly handsome, sweet when he wanted to be, but bossy and stubborn too, sometimes a bit more than she cared for.

  Deep down, she liked the way he took charge. It aroused her and his behavior made her feel cared for. Something she’d never really experienced before.

  Ever.

  “Are you all right?”

  She nodded, tried to offer him a reassuring smile but failed. She saw it in the darkening of his eyes, the concern written all over his face. “I’m fine,” she lied.

  He entered the room, closing the door behind him, why, she wasn’t sure. Slowly he approached her, his steps light, his gaze locked directly on her. “We leave first thing tomorrow morning,” he said when he stopped in front of her.

  She nodded, afraid of what might happen if she tried to speak. She could fall apart, start blubbering all over him and that was the last thing she wanted to do.

  “I want to spend the rest of the evening with you,” he murmured, reaching out so he could capture her hand in his.

  “What time is it?” She hadn’t paid much attention, knew she’d spent most of the afternoon locked away considering the placement of the sun, the shadows that it cast.

  “Almost four.” He squeezed her hand before entwining his fingers with hers. “We only have a few more hours together alone, Gabriella.”

  A wave of sadness washed over her, so large it made the back of her knees dissolve. He squeezed their linked hands, but it didn’t reassure her like usual. The unspoken words rang through her head. What they shared was temporary. As soon as they returned to New York, it was over. She knew this, was savvy enough to understand how it worked, but she hadn’t anticipated finding herself halfway in love with him.

  And she was. It wouldn’t take much to nudge her over the edge, either. It was foolish, she’d known him for such a short amount of time, but there it was.

  To Rhett, she was an island fling. She’d told herself this from the start. Her head knew it, but her heart was a complete idiot.

  That she allowed her heart to become involved in the first place was more than enough proof of her utter foolishness.

  “I want to spend tonight with you. I don’t want to worry about work or the scent or anything like that. Just me and you”

  “Rhett…” She started to protest, to argue, but he pressed his fingers to her mouth, silencing her.

  “Just say yes, Gabriella.” He paused, his eyes full of some unnamed emotion she’d never seen before. “I—I really want you t
o say yes.”

  His hesitation, his words warmed her heart. And she so enjoyed the way he said her full name. Not even her father called her that any longer. No one did.

  Except Rhett.

  “You know, we’ve spent every night together,” she reminded him when his hand dropped away from her lips. “Really, we’ve wasted lots of precious time when we should’ve been working. I know that’s not what you want to hear, but maybe we should work tonight instead of going out.”

  He slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her in close. She fit perfectly against him, their bodies attuned with each other yet still thrilling at first contact. Resting her hands on his chest, she smoothed her fingers downward, savoring the hard, muscular feel of him. Slowly, she tilted her head back, their gazes meeting, his so serious. “I have an idea,” he murmured.

  She arched a brow. “What sort of idea?” Most of his ideas usually ended up with them naked in bed. Not that she usually complained…

  But today—at the absolute last minute—she was trying to do the right thing. She didn’t know if she’d finally come to her senses or was acting incredibly stupid.

  “A good one, I promise.” The wickedness in his grin made her smile in return. “Trust me.”

  “I want to trust you. But…” Slowly, she withdrew from his embrace, momentarily at a loss for words. “Maybe—maybe we’re going about this all wrong.” How could she tell him she believed they’d essentially wasted their time while on Maui? She was just as guilty as he, just as much of a screwup when the both of them had something to prove to their families, to the industry, to the entire world.

  So why did they squander their opportunity?

  “What are you saying?” His voice was tight, his expression fierce. It was as if her words flipped a switch within him. “That you don’t trust me? That you think I’m a fuckup like everyone else does?”

  “I never said that,” she started, but he cut her off with a look.

  “You didn’t have to. It’s written all over your face.” Clenching his jaw, he glared at her. “Fine, you’re right. I bring you to this island and all I want to do is fuck you. Forget the job, forget the perfume, forget Worth. All I can think about is how fast can I get you naked.”