Heating Up Hawaii

by Carmen Falcone

  “And?” He rubbed his eyes with his hand, and she noticed the dark circles under them. Why was he going to Paris? Business, or pleasure? The question burned on the tip of her tongue, but she simply ignored it.

  She grabbed a notepad and a pen from the low glass table. “Well, that’s a great way to boost your image, especially if you’re trying to reestablish trust after the safety issue. Do you plan on making a donation to any organization or group while in Hawaii?”

  Silence descended upon them. She started to scribble some notes, and raised her eyes to Luc’s. Beyond the cool objectivity, a flicker of an emotion he chose not to share sparked for a moment in his eyes. It was warm. And then it was ruthless.

  “My donations have nothing to do with this resort,” he said in a calm, yet assertive voice.

  She dropped the notepad and pen to the side and sighed. “Not directly, but they help to boost your image.”

  “I don’t want any of this mentioned. I make individual donations, not from the chain.”

  “Well, don’t you see that this can help both you and the cause? If only—”

  He narrowed his eyes. “I won’t make a circus out of this.”

  She placed her hands on her waist, her fingers biting into the fabric of her skirt. “It doesn’t have to be a circus. I could just write a couple of press releases and maybe have it mentioned briefly during your interview.” Why did he have to be so stubborn?

  “No,” he said simply. The fact that he gave her no explanation, no excuses, nothing else, made her stomach clench.

  “You are being unreasonable,” she insisted, although the message from his eyes for her to drop the subject had been final. “It’s great you are making these donations, but don’t you want to bring awareness by sharing what you are doing? I read on one website you even paid visits to some patients. Making you look good is just an added bonus, Luc.”

  “The person who convinced me to take the pictures with sick children for this so-called awareness told me the same thing. They set up this ridiculous photo shoot, made it awkward for the entire hospital and the children…” His eyes wandered past her. “My answer is still no.”

  “Do you really think I’d make a circus out of this? You’ve lost your mind.” Penny gasped. “I respect sick people. Don’t you remember my grandmother died from cancer?” she asked, but before he could answer, she waved her hand in the air. “Never mind. Of course you don’t.”

  His lips twitched into a sour smile. “I thought you were the one who didn’t want to discuss the past.”

  “I don’t.” She crossed her arms. “I just wanted you to know that I’m not some kind of blood-sucking professional.”

  He nodded, and stepped toward the door. Then he turned his head, and his gaze captured hers. “I do remember what you told me about your grandmother, for what it is worth.”

  “I wish I remembered anything you told me. But for that, you’d have to have told me something. Anything,” she said, unable to keep the bitter resentment out of her voice.

  It was true, wasn’t it? During the two months they were together, she had shared so much with him, especially because her grandmother had died only six months before they’d met.

  Back then she’d thought of him as a great listener, supportive and kind. Now she knew that it had been a great barrier he had built so that their relationship would never go past the surface.

  Even now that she worked for him and wanted this damn resort to succeed, he still couldn’t tell her why he protected his donations to those organizations. And it bothered the hell out of her.

  She chewed on her lower lip.

  “Based on what you did the last time I told you something, I think my reservations are expected,” he told her, his eyes as cold as winter snow. “Au revoir, Penelope.”

  She slammed the door shut as bubbles of anger rose in her bloodstream. He would never let it go. But why would I want him to let go, anyway? I haven’t.

  ***

  Luc signed a couple of contracts that Shirley, Brad’s PA, handed him. After she left the temporary office he occupied, he sighed heavily and rotated his chair.

  Scattered rays of sunshine skipped through the semi-open blinds. With one movement, he pulled them up, and the strong sunlight quickly infiltrated the entire office. He needed some clarity.

  Perhaps clarity would tell him why he had not been able to get Penny off his mind while in Paris. He had gone for a couple of important meetings. He’d thought the distance between them would be a plus and he’d be able to see things in a new light.

  He had even dared to invite Pauline out to dinner, with the expectation—the need—to feel desire for another woman. To have another woman in his bed and release the ache that was starting to annoy him.

  However, before the appetizers had even made it to their table, the realization had knocked him hard in the gut—not only did he want Penny in his bed, but no other woman would do. Ever since the plane ride, when he’d foolishly thought she wanted him just as he wanted her, he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind. He wanted to make Penny crave him.

  That had been why he’d taken Pauline home with nothing more than a pathetic peck on her cheek, leaving her baffled and surprised. Well, so was he—surprised at the strength of the desire eating at his core. A desire that should have been long gone, forgotten and overcome. Yet, every time he saw the image of the curvy woman with freckles peppered on her face and those big hazel eyes staring at him, he had to fight it.

  He stared at the view through the window and put his hand against the glass. Brad’s office, the one Luc used while in town, faced the gardens. Different shades of blue spread through the wraparound pool, surrounded by tiki torches, a blend of wildflowers, and sunbathing chairs. The mosaic ceramic on the border was the only evidence that it wasn’t an actual lake. The remodeling team had done a great job, and he couldn’t wait until all the guests returned and the heated waters of the pool were filled with people again.

  Only when he spotted his fingerprint on the glass did he realize he’d been pressing it hard. What would it be like to take Penny in that pool? Just the two of them. Adrenaline rushed through his body.

  Her legs would be wrapped around his naked waist, while he’d thrust deep and long into her. She would hold on to both sides of the border. Better yet, she would hold on to his shoulders for support.

  “Mr. Leoni,” Shirley’s voice sounded over the intercom.

  He shook his head, and blinked out of fantasyland. “Go ahead.”

  “Penny Ashbrook is here to see you.”

  “Let her in.”

  He held his breath when she walked inside.

  A yellow linen dress embraced her curves, tightly fitted until the waist, where it dropped down and flowed. A short black jacket carefully concealed a couple of her most valuable assets. The perfect example of an outfit made by women to drive men crazy. If her nipples hardened under the yellow linen, he would see if not for that frustrating little jacket. Probably for the best.

  “I came to talk to Brad, but Shirley mentioned you were here instead.” Penny sat in a chair in front of him. She gave him a casual smile, but he didn’t miss the dark gleaming in her hazel eyes. “Did you have a nice trip?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good to know. I saw a couple of paparazzi shots of you and a pretty model. It’s nice to see you maintain yourself in the media.” Professionalism dripped from her voice. She proceeded to open a leather portfolio and remove a couple of clippings.

  He saw a couple of photographs snapped from when he’d opened the car door for Pauline in front of the restaurant, and he closed his fists with a white knuckled intensity. In the world of social media and tiny cell phones, nothing was private anymore. He hadn’t remembered seeing any paparazzi nearby at the moment the picture was taken, though he didn’t put it past Pauline to have tipped them off.

  Penny looked at him with an annoying detachment, as if she didn’t care who he took out.

  �
�We went out to dinner.”

  “And you got mentioned. Probably because she’s a model.” She grabbed one of the newspaper clippings and sighed. “She’s gorgeous. Just look at those legs.”

  “You don’t mind?” His chest contracted. Did she really not mind?

  Her smile added to his discomfort. “As long as you don’t draw negative press to yourself or the company before the opening, why would I?”

  He gave her back the clipping he held, and when the thin piece of paper switched hands, an electric jolt snaked up his arm. She must have felt the same, because he didn’t miss the slight jump of her hand or the temporary surprise in her eyes. A thrill of hope belted through him.

  Hmmm… Encouraged by her physical response, Luc observed her in silence. Her hair cascaded in soft waves around her beautiful face, in which her high cheeks still blushed from the contact. The way her chest began to heave and how she tried to make it better with a sharp intake of breath amused him.

  Her round, hazel eyes watched him, as if they lightened from within.

  A stir tugged at his groin.

  She shifted in her seat. “I can come back later to talk to Brad.”

  “Tell me what it is. I’ll take care of it,” he said, pleased at the cool confidence in his voice.

  “It’s more of a manager’s job, but if you want to know…” she sighed, and hid both hands in her lap. He leaned his head forward a bit, and noticed how she tried to conceal her fidgety fingers from view.

  “I want to know everything.” He cleared his throat.

  “Have you been to the spa area recently?”

  The spa had been fairly affected by the flood, due to its proximity to the beach. He shook his head. “Not since they’ve done the repair work. Why do you ask?”

  “I’ve been thinking of offering some massages to our VIP guests who are coming to the opening party. But there’s still one massage room out of order, according to maintenance,” she started, as she went through her notes. “And also, I wanted to suggest that the manager hire male masseuses. Almost every masseuse is a woman.”

  “And?”

  “It wouldn’t reflect well on this property, not being an equal opportunity employer.”

  He frowned, not liking any bit of it. “Noted. I’ll tell Brad.”

  “Also, since this is an adult-only resort, some women might want to get massages from men.”

  “True. Did you enjoy your massage?” He’d given her full access to all of the resort’s facilities, including the spa, like all of the top managers. No doubt, there was no better encouragement to keep full occupancy than employees who knew what they were talking about and selling.

  “I haven’t had time to schedule it yet.”

  “Not a fan of female masseuses?” He meant to tease, but his voice dropped an octave regardless. “Would you have felt more comfortable with a male masseuse?”

  She frowned, and a small nervous laugh escaped her lips. “God no.”

  “Isn’t that sexist of you? To think women are better masseuses than men?” He crossed his arms, stretched his legs, and pushed his chair against the wall.

  He enjoyed when she came close to losing her composure. She shrugged her shoulders, which gave the annoying black jacket a slight opening once she squared her shoulders again. Her chest heaved.

  Mon Dieu, she’s beautiful.

  “No. I think you should hire both genders, based on their talent and not on their physical assets. And in my case it’s different. I’m more… particular about certain things.” She averted her eyes to stare down at her hands.

  “Like having your body touched by a man.” He jerked forward before propping his elbows on the dark wood desk. The squeak of the chair made her eyes return to his. This time, he pinned her with his stare. He could have kicked himself for his stupidity. The last thing he wanted was to picture any man touching her—a masseuse, her ex, or anyone who might have filled her bed during the time they’d been apart.

  Only the present mattered, and nothing else. Not even the future.

  She looked away. Again. “Yes. I mean, no.” Her eyes returned to his. “Luc, this isn’t about me,” she said with calm confidence, perhaps trying to downplay the pulsating vein in her neck.

  She rose from her seat as if propelled by the same force that pulled him to stand up and close the short gap between them.

  “I should go.” With an unsteady breath, she took a step back.

  “Don’t.” He swallowed the lump of sexual frustration in his throat. He could see it in her eyes, which melted into two pools of rich caramel, that she wanted him.

  There was that thread of doubt blanketing her, so thin and at the same time a brick barrier against his desire. No. He wasn’t going to slam her against the corner wall and kiss her senseless, although his every fiber urged him to. He wanted her to want him, and to come to terms with it, as much as he had.

  They wouldn’t have a future together. He had done the whole caring for someone he loved once. He wasn’t sure there was any amount of love inside him left to do it again. To go through the pain of loving and losing. And she…was obviously disenchanted with the whole institution of marriage. She also seemed to have a lot on her plate, professionally and otherwise. Which made them two selfish, screwed-up people. And gave him hope for at least a torrid, no-barriers love affair.

  “Luc, we shouldn’t.” Her voice was barely above a whisper, her resistance hung by a thread—a thread possibly thinner than his, he realized as she stepped forward. Her beautiful, honey eyes glowed. And her fingers loosened their hold on the leather folder.

  Her gaze dropped to his lips, and the tip of her tongue slid out of her slightly parted mouth and licked her upper lip.

  “I want to kiss you,” he said, the question turning into a warning the moment he pushed the words from the depth of his inflated lungs. “God, Penelope, I want to kiss you,” he repeated, unable to stop the tortured pang in his voice.

  He closed the remaining distance between them, and dipped his head down. The leather folder she held slid between her fingers and thumped on the carpet. He savored the smile that stretched across his face, pretty sure he was acting like a stupid fool. But, damn it, it’d been a long time since he felt this foolish.

  ***

  Penny threw her head back, initially because they were so close that she didn’t want to breathe into his designer suit. Or drool.

  She got a glimpse of his eyes. Oh, his eyes… Why did they have to be different, yet convey the same sexy message with that bone-melting intensity? And his words…they left no room for second guessing. He wanted her, and he had spelled it out. Twice.

  A strange sensation tightened her throat.

  She glared at his blue eye, and saw the cold water of the pristine beach she glanced at daily from her balcony. Looking was quite different than taking the plunge. And his hazel eye… it melted into a rich, dark gold. Water and stone. Two very different elements.

  The seconds stretched into what could have been a painful eternity, as he dipped his hand under her neck. Her body involuntarily arched in response and a jolt of red hot desire sped through her. Good God, I want him.

  A soft moan escaped from her parted lips, and he took the opportunity to cover them with his own.

  His mouth seared her skin as his tongue slid inside. She knew then that this was the kind of attraction she sought in other men but never found. This organic pull. The visceral urge to grab, to feel, to touch.

  And touch she did. Penny threaded her fingers through his hair, feeling its full texture against her palm. The heat from his lips arrowed down her throat, unsettled her heartbeat, and awakened all her nerve endings.

  Luc pulled her to him, and brought them together in a perfect fit. She stroked her tongue against his and grazed her teeth on his upper lip. At that moment, her mind shut off any doubts or insecurities. The misleading dizzy spell didn’t matter—the lust throbbing inside convinced her that she’d be stronger at the end, even though he was
her weakness. Always had been.

  They had kissed and made love before, and perhaps this was the reason why their bodies clung to each other so effortlessly. This time around, her emotions were amplified, the reactions of her body intensified. Her need for him surpassed any expectations—it was raw, effervescent, and ruthless. Just like the man who kissed her.

  Luc Leoni.

  He lifted her from the floor with a coarse groan. She wrapped her legs around his waist. Without breaking the kiss, he set her on the top of the desk.

  Their heavy breathing muffled the sound of the books, papers, stapler, paper clips and the filled pen holder being pushed out of the way. A couple of items fell from the glass top, though she didn’t bother to look.

  Instead, Penny raised her hands to his chest, her fingers tracing his dark blue tie up and down. She couldn’t help smiling when his body slightly trembled under her fingertips. It only served as encouragement for her to touch him lower, and she gasped when her hand found the hard, throbbing erection concealed by the expensive fabric of his pants.

  He deepened the kiss and ran his fingers down her back. When both of his hands cupped her buttocks, bringing her core closer to him, she didn’t hold back the loud moan. She couldn’t hold it back, or anything else, for that matter.

  “Penelope,” he murmured against her lips, his accent thickened.

  She panted, her eyes semi-closed, and gave her sanity one more chance to return to her brain. It didn’t. The only emotion pumping through her system was a terrifying longing to have him buried deep inside her.

  He parted her legs gently with both hands. She shivered the moment his fingers touched her bare skin, scorching the inside of her thighs. Opening her legs, she once again wrapped them around him, her stiletto heels grinding against his taut butt.

  “Oh Luc,” she whimpered, as they both gasped for air when he tore his mouth from hers.

  He kissed her temple, her closed eyes, her cheeks. All while his fingers worked their way closer and closer to her underwear. The light brush of his warm palm against the lace fabric drove her insane.

  He traced the tip of his tongue along her neck, and her breasts hardened with the promise of what was to come.