“It became rather apparent that he really didn’t want me back.” She looked down at her folded hands, her nails unpolished and cut short in a no-nonsense, sensible fashion. No, Paul wouldn’t want her back for any other reason than to help his career. “The funny thing is I don’t think he ever loved me for me. I was always a stepping-stone to whatever else he was after. And in this particular case, he wanted to know how I was able to contract Red Seven at the casino.”
She shook her head, disgusted she hadn’t seen Paul for what he really was years before.
Damon’s brows drew together. “Red Seven? The pop band?”
She nodded. “Do you want to know the great ‘secret’ that Paul was so desperate to know?” She paused for dramatic effect. “Chocolate.”
“Chocolate?”
“I know it sounds crazy, but it’s true. All I did was a little research on the lead singer and found he really loves these specialty chocolates from Paris. So after I had called his agent and was turned down, I sent a nice handwritten note along with those chocolates, asking if they would reconsider.” She shrugged. “I lucked out when they did.”
“I would hardly call that luck. You reached out to them on a personal level. That was very smart. Like I said before, I shouldn’t underestimate your talents to get a job done.”
“Thanks. Paul thinks I’m wasting my time here. That I’ll fall flat on my face. And maybe you’re both right, but this hotel,” she said, spreading her arms out, “is important to my family. Especially for my dad. I really feel a revived purpose in my life being here. I haven’t felt a true sense of belonging since my parents passed, but I feel it now. I feel it here. So I’m going to try until you and your company tell me to stop.”
After a few seconds, Damon finally stood, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Okay.”
She paused. “Okay? Okay…what?”
“I’ll increase your budget with my own money. If you think you can turn the hotel around in the timeframe I’ve given you, then it’s yours.”
Her heart rate spiked. “Oh my gosh, really?” Laughter bubbled up inside her. “You’ll increase my budget and let me do some marketing and everything else?”
“Within reason. Come up with a new budget plan, and we can discuss it tomorrow. You can do whatever you want, however—”
Kinsley jumped up and launched herself into his arms. “Thank you,” she breathed into his shoulder. “Thank you for believing in me.”
Damon stilled. Then his arms slowly came around her and he pressed her to his chest. “You’re welcome,” he whispered in her hair.
She made no movement to separate herself from his embrace. She knew it was wrong—highly inappropriate, actually—to be standing in her office, burrowing in her boss’s chest like a chipmunk. Anyone could barge in. But he felt so nice, so warm with that freshly showered, masculine scent all his own. She couldn’t resist staying in his arms a little longer until good sense entered her brain again.
Kinsley dropped her arms and they both slowly drew apart. Damon didn’t look happy. In fact, his jaw was clenched so tight, it looked like it might shatter. She just hoped this little overly affectionate stunt didn’t cost her her job.
“Sorry,” she muttered, her face growing hotter with every passing second. “Sometimes I let my emotions get carried away. I didn’t mean to…jump you. It’s just that I’m so grateful.”
Damon remained silent, his brows furrowed together as if contemplating how to tactfully fire her without hurting her feelings.
“It, uh, won’t happen again,” she assured him. “The hugging part, not the thanking you part.”
“I know what part you were referring to,” he growled.
She swallowed. “Oh, right. Of course. Sorry for the… Sorry.” Somebody tape my mouth closed now.
Damon held up his hands in a time-out sign. “We’re off the clock, right?” he asked.
Dread had her hesitating. Was he really going to fire her? She nodded and slowly met his steel-blue eyes.
Then before she could blink, Damon St. James pulled her back into his arms and kissed her.
Chapter Ten
Kinsley kissed him back, her arms wrapping around his neck and grabbing fistfuls of his shirt against his nape. Her mind spun with the perplexity and excitement of Damon St. James’s mouth on hers. She was kissing her boss! And she adored him with that kiss until desire deepened into a craving that had her straining into him.
He pressed nearer, made a growling noise as his hands came up and cupped her face.
Everything about this one small moment was perfect, and it made her pulse soar.
This is what it should have been like with Paul.
Then her cell phone text alert went off.
She broke contact first, tilting her face back. Air came out of her lungs in quick, shallow breaths. Damon, on the other hand, hadn’t moved, still cradling her face with his hands. He blinked several times as if waking from sleep-walking and finding himself in unknown territory. She was just as shocked at her response. Her arms came down slowly. Every fiber of her body wanted to grab him close again, but she forced herself to step back.
Catching her breath, she turned away and pulled out her phone. The text was from Elena asking her if Paul had left yet. She quickly responded then turned back toward Damon.
She straightened the hem of her blouse then cleared her throat. “Um, that was…” Amazing, hot, wonderful, the best kiss of my life. But since he was her boss and not some regular man she’d met and was attracted to, she simply finished with, “…unexpected.”
Damon blew out a breath. “Yeah.”
Her lips felt swollen and her mind still buzzed with a kind of confusing euphoria. But deep down inside she knew that kiss spelled disaster for her heart. There was something stronger going on than just mere attraction. Working together was already becoming difficult. Where would this all lead to in the end? Damon wouldn’t be in Cape Harmony for much longer, and he’d already made it perfectly clear that he was not boyfriend material.
She bit her lip. “Maybe… Maybe that shouldn’t happen again.”
“I’m sorry,” he said instantly. “You’re right. I was completely out of line.”
His apology landed like a rock in her gut, and she had to look away. Not coming up with anything suitable to say, she merely shrugged.
Damon began to pace. “Dammit, Kinsley. I wish I could blame this on a fever, but I’m not sick anymore. And here I was just berating your fiancé for manhandling you, and then I turn around and do the same exact thing. It was very unprofessional of me.”
She’d hardly call that kiss manhandling, especially since she had participated—and quite willingly, too. But the passion in his tone told her he was fully onboard with putting this whole incident behind them, so she was going to have to go along with it to save face.
“Let’s just chalk it up to one of those heat-of-the-moment responses,” she said, trying to sound upbeat and calm. “From now on, we’ll both make sure we keep our relationship strictly professional.”
“Yes, of course. Professional. Absolutely.”
She frowned. He didn’t have to be so adamant about it. And a little hesitation would have been nice for her ego, too. “Great. I’m glad we agree.” Sort of.
Elena rapped on the door a few times then let herself in. “Oh, I didn’t realize you were in a meeting.” Her gaze shifted from Kinsley to Damon and back again. Kinsley was guessing they both looked out of breath, rumpled, and guilty, because Elena’s face turned three shades of pink. “Uh, Kinsley, there are some guests in the lobby who want to speak with you.”
Grateful for the excuse to leave, she smiled her thanks. “Tell them I’ll be right out.”
Elena nodded then left, leaving them in such tense silence it hurt Kinsley’s head.
“I should let you get back to work, then,” Damon finally said.
“Yes. I’d better go.” But her feet felt buried in wet sand and she couldn’t move.
/> “Kinsley, I meant what I said about increasing your budget. And I don’t want you to think, after that kiss, that I don’t respect your work or what you’re trying to do here.”
They were words she’d wanted to hear for days but she couldn’t appreciate them at this moment. “Thank you.”
She finally turned to go, but he stopped her by just raising his hand.
“Yes?” she prompted.
“Are we okay?” Doubt clouded his expression as he gazed at her.
She forced a smile. “Sure. We’re good.”
Then before her own expression gave her away, she turned around and bolted out of her office.
…
Damon sat upstairs on his bed, his laptop balanced on his thighs. Papers were spread out on the comforter. When he’d left Kinsley earlier, he knew the only way to clear his head was to pour himself into work. And up here alone in his hotel room was the perfect place to rid his thoughts of the uptight brunette with the mouth that seemed perfectly made for his.
With a groan, he fisted his hands.
He still couldn’t believe he’d pulled her into his arms so fiercely, as if his life had depended on it. He hadn’t known he was capable of such emotion. Any emotion. She’d simply hugged him to thank him for having such faith in her work, and that was it. That one innocent gesture ignited something deep within him that had been kindled ever since he’d met her. And he’d given in to it.
Even though he’d known it was wrong.
He was an idiot to even think about starting anything up with a woman like her. He was never going to be good enough for Kinsley. Screwups like him would only fail her in the end. He couldn’t give her the kind of affection she deserved. He could barely have a normal relationship with his family.
His cell phone rang, and he looked down. It was his father.
Right on cue.
“Hi, Dad,” he said, hitting the speaker button and bracing himself for whatever news was about to be delivered.
“Damon, I wanted to make sure you got the email I sent out last night on the two casino prospects in Atlantic City.”
“Yes, I saw them.”
“Good. Make sure you don’t let these slip through. Oh, and by the way, we’re in luck. A builder friend of mine is interested in that little hotel you got yourself involved in.”
Damon sat up, his pulse spinning. “Wait. The Harbor Light?”
“Yes. Apparently, land is hard to come by in that town. If he wasn’t a buddy, I’d even play a little hardball.” His father let out a low chuckle.
“I don’t think it’s such a good idea to sell just yet.”
“Why the hell not?”
Yeah, why the hell not, Damon? He swallowed. “It’s…it’s kind of a landmark. Plus, there are people in town who are pretty attached to that old hotel.”
“Well, sure, I understand, but that’s not our problem, is it?”
Not his dad’s problem, but it was definitely a problem for Damon, especially after he’d assured Kinsley she’d have the time to try to make the hotel work. And why had he even given her the time? Because he didn’t want to be compared to her ex-fiancé, Paul. Because he wanted the hotel to be a success to show his father.
And because he truly wanted to see her happy.
“Dad, I would reconsider. At least for a little while. The hotel could prove more profitable than you think, given some time.”
“You know I don’t have that kind of patience. Life is short. If someone is willing to take it off our hands for a decent price, we shouldn’t let this deal slip out of our grasp. Sometimes you need to cut your losses early. This is what I want to do.”
“I know that, but…” Words failed him. What could he possibly say?
Hold off on any business transaction you may have set up even though it could cost you thousands because I have a thing for the hotel manager.
Yeah. That would go over well. He’d already managed to let his father down on numerous occasions. He couldn’t do it again. He needed to buck up and be what his father expected.
“But what?” his father asked in a gruff tone.
“Never mind.” He sighed wearily. “It wasn’t anything important.”
“Is everything okay down there?”
“Nothing I can’t handle.” He hoped.
“Good to hear. Look, I have to go now. I have dinner plans. Call me once you hear anything about the casinos. But get that property in Atlantic City first, and then we’ll talk about the hotel.”
Damon let out a quiet, relieved breath. “Thanks. I will.” He clicked his phone off and rubbed a hand over his face.
Things were becoming messy. If only he hadn’t let Kinsley’s attachment to the hotel get to him. If only he hadn’t let her get to him. He didn’t even recognize himself anymore. He needed to focus again, get his head back in the game of what he did best. The email his dad had sent him gave several casino contacts to call. He’d reach out to them tomorrow. Show his dad he could maneuver a lucrative deal on one of the casinos the company had eyes on. Maybe if they had some property in Atlantic City, his dad would be so pleased, his attention would be drawn to that. It could buy Damon some time with The Harbor Light, and by the end of the summer, they might be able to show that it would be a good investment to hold on to. In the meantime, he’d also have time to explain the situation to Kinsley, let her down gently in case their plan didn’t work.
He shook his head at himself. Since when had he ever worried about letting an employee down gently? There was no doubt about it. He had it bad for Kinsley. But that wasn’t the pressing problem. He needed to make sure he got that casino buyout. And if he wanted to make that happen, he’d have to go to Atlantic City and meet with the owners in person.
Damon closed his laptop and swung his legs off the bed to pack his bags. Because he’d just made the decision to leave tonight.
Chapter Eleven
A week and a half later, Kinsley sat in the newly decorated ballroom of the hotel, waiting for Arden. Things were progressing nicely with some of the minor renovations she’d scheduled, so her friend wanted to come by and check things out for herself and have a small menu tasting before she made any recommendations to her clients.
Kinsley had ordered new linens for the tables and updated centerpieces. The Chamber of Commerce had already booked a few of their executive meetings in the small conference room, and one of their bigger banquets, Business of the Year, was on the schedule for next month. Everything seemed to be going great, and she’d wanted very much to share that good news with Damon in person instead of by email or phone. But she hadn’t seen him since that day Paul had shown up.
Since that day Damon had kissed her.
Apparently, he had been called away on emergency business in Atlantic City and was staying at one of the casinos there while he sorted out some ventures. Which was in his right to do. Totally acceptable. Why would he need to say good-bye to her first? He had a job to do and he was doing it. Like she was. Things at the hotel were as they should be. She was being her usual sensible collected self, and he was acting very professional and boss-like. Just as she wanted.
Yep. Just like they’d agreed.
It was awful.
“There you are,” Arden said as she breezed her way into the ballroom, looking annoyingly perky and fresh. “I just checked your office and—” Arden stopped mid-stride and gaped. “Whoa. This room looks different.”
Kinsley smiled. “Different good or different bad?”
Arden walked up to the table and dropped her purse on top of it. “You know it’s good different. Not the Ritz or anything, but definitely nice and simple.” She glanced around again. “I think if you lose those heavy window treatments it would look even better.”
“Actually, I am. A daughter of one of my guests said she’d make new ones for me for close to cost in exchange for a free weekend stay here over the Fourth of July holiday.”
Arden sat down and fingered the new tablecloths. Then she nodded.
“I’m getting a good feeling about this place.”
Kinsley would normally have felt it, too, if not for Damon’s sudden disappearing act and his unenthusiastic email responses when she’d update him on her progress.
Chef Rick, looking more like a biker than a chef with his red bandana covering his bald head, came into the ballroom, carrying a few tiered trays. He set both platters on the table before Kinsley and Arden then began to explain what they were about to taste.
“Ladies,” he said in his usual raspy tone, “the tray on your left is a brief sample of what would be on the high tea menu beginning Memorial Day. The scones with clotted cream and lemon custard of course are very traditional, but we also decided to add a few more savory samplings as well, like the mini crab cakes on butter crackers.”
The food looked pretty and appetizing. The presentation was right on the mark, and if the food tasted half as good as it looked, Kinsley figured the high tea would be a huge hit for the summer.
“Looks fabulous, Rick.” She pointed to the other tray. “And what do you have there for us?”
Rick grinned, flashing his one gold tooth. “I played around with some cupcake recipes and created individual wedding cakes. It’s a trend I’ve been reading up on.”
Kinsley smothered a smile, imagining a burley guy like Rick researching mini wedding cakes.
“They’re adorable,” Arden said, picking one with a large frosted flower sprinkled with white pearls. She bit into it and her expression went dreamy. “Oh, these are great, too. I have a bride-to-be who might be interested in holding her reception here. She’s a bit quirky, though.”
“What do you mean?” Kinsley asked, picking up a scone.
“Well, she definitely wants a beach wedding, flip-flops only, but she also mentioned something about hot dogs and hamburgers at the reception.”
Kinsley looked up at Chef Rick, who didn’t seem fazed by the request. “I can do that,” he said simply. “Of course, I’d take it to another level.”
Arden stopped chewing, darting a glance at Kinsley then back to Rick. “Really? How so?”
“I’ve seen it all when I had my own catering business,” he said, folding his arms and showcasing his beefy biceps covered in tattoos. “But the best events I used to do were favorite dishes shrunk down to bite-size canapés with drink pairings. Like maybe Kobe sliders and mini gourmet grilled cheese sandwiches, served with Jersey craft beer or even Bloody Mary shooters. If the bride likes Mexican food, we could do taco crostinis with specialty Margarita tastings. You take the simple, twist it slightly, and make it a unique experience.”
Bargaining with the Boss (Accidentally Yours) Page 12