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Make Me Crave

Page 4

by Katee Robert


  “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.” He squeezed her hand. “I had a good time last night.”

  “Me...too.” She studied his profile. Adonis, indeed. “A really good time.”

  He shot her a look as he took a turn onto a path marked with her villa number. “I’m in danger of being pushy, but I’d like to have a repeat—or several. I’m here on business, but my nights are yours if you’re interested.”

  Her breath caught in her throat, though she couldn’t say why. To spend her days with Becka doing all the activities they had planned and her nights with her Adonis... That truly would be paradise. She licked her lips. “I...I’d like that.”

  He grinned and pulled to a stop where the cart path ended and the walking path began. “In that case, would you gift a poor man with your name? You’ll always be Aphrodite to me, but I’d like to know the true identity of the woman I plan to have coming countless times in the next few days.”

  She blushed and then called herself an idiot for blushing. “I’m Allie.”

  He went so still, he might as well have turned into a statue. Those hazel eyes focused on her with unsettling intensity. “Allie? Allie Landers?”

  She jerked her hand back, her heart beating for a reason that had nothing to do with desire. “How do you know my last name?”

  He laughed, but not like anything was funny. “This is so fucked.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  Gone was the devilishly charming Adonis who’d seduced her with little effort last night, replaced by a cold man she didn’t recognize. “Roman Bassani.”

  She knew that name. She knew that name. Allie scrambled out of the cart and took several steps back, though he made no move to touch her again. “The guy who keeps hounding me? What the hell are you doing here?”

  His smile was as cold as any she’d seen. “I’m here to convince you to sell your business.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  ROMAN WATCHED THE metaphorical shit hit the fan in slow motion. He looked at his Aphrodite—at Allie Landers—in disbelief. The horror in her expression, the way she took a step back and her body language closed down. Gone was the flirty siren he’d just had in his bed, replaced by a woman who didn’t trust him as far as she could throw him.

  Still, he tried to salvage it. “I can explain.”

  “Explain how you hunted me down to West Island and seduced me.” She shook her head, blond hair flying. “Nope. Absolutely not. You pulled one over on me. Good job. Way to go. Points for being totally and completely unexpected. You don’t get to stand there and tell me you can explain, because this is beyond explanation.”

  “I didn’t know you were...you.” He scrubbed his hands over his face. “I’m fucking this up.”

  “You think?” She took another step back. “Your reputation might be shady, but I never expected this.”

  He started to explain why he thought she couldn’t possibly be Allie Landers, but cut the words off before they reached the air between them. Telling her that her glorious curves didn’t fit in a specialized gym was both shitty and wrong, and he’d have realized that he shouldn’t assume a single goddamn thing if he’d stopped thinking with his cock long enough to function. There has to be a way to salvage this. “I don’t see why this has to change anything.”

  Her blue eyes went wide. “You don’t think this needs to change anything.” She drew herself up to her full height, somewhere close to six feet. “You’re out of your goddamn mind. Get out of here. I never want to see you again.”

  “Like hell I will.” He hadn’t wanted to do it like this. In fact, he’d crafted several well-thought-out arguments about how she needed to listen to his investment proposal. All of that flew right out the window in the face of his frustration. “You’re going to lose it all if you don’t stop being so fucking stubborn and let my investor help you.”

  She looked at him like she’d never seen him before. “Wanting to preserve what I worked so hard to create isn’t stubbornness—and not wanting to sell it out to someone like you doesn’t make me an idiot.” She motioned at him.

  “Someone like me.” She’d made it sound like an insult, and maybe it was. Roman played dirty. He’d never had any qualms about that truth. He still wouldn’t have tried to seduce Allie into seeing things his way—but he would have done everything else under the sun. He still would.

  But her obvious disdain stung. He laughed harshly. “Someone like me,” he repeated. “Honey, look in the mirror. There’s only one reason Transcend is going under, and it’s not me. I’m just trying to save it.”

  Her lips twisted. “How noble of you. Well, you can take your apparent white-knight complex and shove it up your ass.” She spun around and marched down the path toward her villa, her middle finger in the air.

  Stubborn, frustrating woman.

  Admittedly, he could have played that better. Roman pinched the bridge of his nose for a long moment and then turned the cart around and headed back for his place. If he could just tell her who his investor was...

  Impossible. He’d signed a nondisclosure, which his investor had insisted on. Even if he wanted to tell Allie the details of what his client had planned for her gym and shelter, he couldn’t. Judging by her reaction, it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. She would have called him a liar and told him he was full of shit.

  He’d miscalculated. It wouldn’t have changed the reaction he’d had to seeing Allie in person—he didn’t think anything could have altered that—but he’d have kept control enough not to try to seduce her.

  Fool. He could almost hear his old man’s voice as if the bastard sat next to him. Took the easy way and look what happened—exactly what always happens. Failure.

  Roman shut that shit down. He didn’t have time to wallow in shame for fucking up. He had to figure out a way around it. As tempting as it was to follow her back to her villa and continue the argument until she saw things his way, it wouldn’t do anything but make her dig in her heels further. Allie had proved herself to be as stubborn as the day was long. For some reason, she was resistant to investors.

  He needed to figure out why. It was the only way to get around her issues.

  He took a shower and headed into the main lodge. It was the only place to get a call out on the island or to use anything resembling the internet. It took some convincing to get the woman on staff to give him access to the tiny business center, but he managed.

  Roman sat down while the computer hissed and spit in the old-school dial-up sounds. He shook his head. Apparently paradise didn’t like modern technology. Go figure. He considered his best options and dialed Aaron Livingston. It was late enough in the morning that the man should be at the office.

  Sure enough, he answered on the fourth ring. “Aaron Livingston.”

  “Aaron, Roman here.”

  “Hey, Roman, it’s been a while. What can I do for you?”

  Roman hadn’t spent much time out and about since the fiasco with Gideon and Lucy, and as a result, his social life had suffered a bit. He hadn’t cared—it was a nice change of pace—but he hoped it wouldn’t work against him now that he needed a favor. “I was hoping you could do a bit of a background check on a company I’m considering investing in. I’ve done the run-of-the-mill one, but the owner is being difficult and I need to know why.”

  “You mean they weren’t down on their knees in awe at your greatness?” Aaron’s amusement filtered through the line. “Color me shocked.”

  “You don’t have to rub it in. I missed a step, and I need to figure out where.”

  Aaron laughed. “You’ll have to give me a few minutes to get over my surprise that the vaunted Roman Bassani isn’t perfect.”

  “Asshole.”

  “Without a doubt.” Another laugh. “Give me the business name and I’ll see what I can do. It might take me a few days, but I’ll find the
information you need.”

  “Thanks, man. I appreciate it.”

  “Yeah, well, I am charging you.”

  He grinned. “I wouldn’t expect anything different.” He hung up after Aaron told him to expect the information via email. It wasn’t ideal, but he could wait through the long dial-up time to get it if that meant he had a leg to stand on with Allie.

  Allie.

  Roman sat back and scrubbed his hands over his face. It was time to deal with the fact that he’d fucked up. He might have fucked up badly enough that this account was lost...

  No.

  Damn it, no.

  She was doing good work, but that good work could be increased exponentially if she allowed his client to invest and do the equivalent of franchising Transcend. It was a brilliant business model—or it would be if she moved a few things around.

  Except she hadn’t taken his meetings or returned his calls, and now she was doubly determined to stay the hell away from him. Fuck me. He had to fix this, to do something to get her to stop long enough to listen to what he had to say.

  She was stubborn. She’d more than proved that. Well, it was too damn bad, because he could be a stubborn bastard, too.

  Roman checked his email, verified that the sky wasn’t falling back in New York and logged off. It was time to figure out a game plan to get moving again. They were trapped on this damn island together for the next six days, and he’d be damned before he let this opportunity pass because of one mistake.

  Though he’d be lying if he considered last night a mistake. He should have gotten her name immediately, but if he had, the night wouldn’t have happened. Having Allie in his bed... He stomped down on his body’s reaction to the memories that rolled through him, one after another. Her taste on his tongue. The feel of her generous hips in his hands. Her pussy clenching around his cock. The little smirk she gave him when she knew her saucy attitude was flat-out doing it for Roman.

  He’d give his left hand for a repeat. Get your priorities in order, asshole. She might be hotter than sin and amazing in bed and funny as fuck, but she’s still business.

  Roman couldn’t afford to forget that—or let the lines blur.

  * * *

  “Roman Bassani followed you here?”

  Allie adjusted her balance on the paddleboard and dipped her paddle into the water. “I already said that.” She glared at the gorgeous water. Stupid paradise, making her stupid. She knew better than to go home with a man whose name she didn’t even know. You didn’t go home with him, because neither of you are home right now.

  Not helping.

  “I just... That’s ballsy. Even for Roman.”

  She twisted so fast, she almost fell off the damn board. “You say his name like you know him.” Something resembling jealousy curled thorny vines through her stomach. She had no right to the feeling, and it made no rational sense, so she ignored it.

  “Well...I kind of do.” Becka shrugged. She wore a bikini so tiny, it must have taken an act of God to keep it in place. It was a bright neon green that managed to complement her equally bright blue hair. “Or we have one degree of separation, but I’ve met him once, I think. He was a friend of my sister—is a friend of my sister.” She shook her head. “You know the story, but yeah, he’s really good friends with her boyfriend and so they all hang out sometimes now. But I know him by reputation, at least, and he’s the best at what he does.”

  That was part of the problem—Allie wasn’t one hundred percent sure what he did do. He’d contacted her about investing in Transcend, but it quickly became clear he was a middleman for someone else and... She didn’t know. Trusting an investor was difficult enough without them hiding behind a third party. That extra distance didn’t bode well for her being able to maintain control of the gym and shelter if she signed on the dotted line. She’d come to West Island to escape real life for a little bit, and it’d followed her here despite her best efforts.

  And then she’d slept with it.

  She frowned. Way to make the metaphor weird, Allie. “It doesn’t matter. It was a mistake and I’m going to enjoy the rest of my damn vacation without worrying about him.” She was lying through her teeth, but she sent a look at her best friend, daring Becka to call her on it.

  Becka dipped her paddle into the water, moving farther away from the beach. “I don’t know, Allie. He’s one sexy golden god of a man. What would it hurt to bang him like a conga drum while you’re down here and go back to hating him when you get home?”

  “He’s Roman Bassani. He’s the enemy. I can’t just separate things like he apparently can.” Though he’d been just as shocked at her identity as she was at his. Allie knew that for a fact. The man might be a good actor, but no one was that good. She didn’t believe for a second that he’d tried to manipulate her through sex, but that didn’t mean she was about to roll over and offer herself and everything she’d worked so hard for to him just because he was beautiful and had an amazing cock and—

  Not helping.

  “What would a little hot and smoking sex hurt?”

  She splashed water at Becka. “It wouldn’t hurt, but the man already doesn’t take me seriously. If he thinks he can seduce me into seeing things his way, who’s to say he won’t do exactly that?”

  Becka sighed. “You’re right. I know you’re right. It’s just so... This place. It makes everything sexier and less complicated, and even though vodka and I broke up, vodka would most definitely agree that it’s a good idea.”

  “Then it’s a good thing you and vodka broke up.” They reached the mouth of their little bay and paused, letting the paddleboards shift with the water. She lay back on the board and closed her eyes, willing the sun to soak in and chase away her tension. “It’s not fair. I am so damn furious that he pulled this shit, but my body hasn’t got the memo. He’s just so hot. It makes me crazy.” She was pretty sure she had the self-control to keep her hands off him going forward, but Allie wasn’t all that eager to put it to the test.

  “Yes...yes, he is.”

  There was something in her friend’s tone that made her open her eyes. Allie shot up to a sitting position. “Tell me that the sun has gone to my head and I’m hallucinating.”

  “If you are, we’re sharing the view.” Becka adjusted her kneeling position like she was going to war. “I can distract him if you want to make a break for it.”

  That ugly jealousy rose again, even though there’d been nothing resembling insinuation in her friend’s tone. Anyway, Allie had just said that she wanted nothing to do with him. She couldn’t have it both ways. And Becka was... Becka was a force of nature. Stop that right this second. She’s your friend, and he’s not anything to you.

  The “he” in question rowed his kayak toward them in smooth movements that made the muscles in his shoulders and chest flex—kind of like they had when he was hovering over her and thrusting...

  Her face flamed, and she shook out her hair, doing her best to pretend it was just the external heat and not his effect on her. When Roman got close enough for her to see his face clearly, she went still. He wasn’t looking at Becka at all. His attention had focused on Allie like a laser beam, and he cut through the water, effortlessly back paddling to coast to a stop next to her paddleboard. “Allie.”

  “I’m not sure of the exact laws in this place, but I’m pretty sure they frown on stalking.”

  His lips quirked. “It’s a small island. We’re bound to run into each other.”

  How could he sit there so calm and collected while she fought between the desire to tip his damn kayak and to jump him where he sat? She steadied her grip on her paddle and fought for control. It was easier—so much easier—to be angry than it was to deal with the conflicting emotions inside her. “Is that what you call your kayaking past our villa—again?”

  His grin was quick and unrepentant. “The view isn’t as good th
is time.” She sputtered, but he didn’t give her a chance to reply, turning instead to look at Becka. “I know you.”

  “Not really. But you know my sister—Lucy Baudin.”

  He flinched—actually flinched—though he covered it up quickly enough that Allie wouldn’t have noticed it if she wasn’t watching him so closely. Becka had said her sister and Roman were friends, but it appeared to be more complicated than that. Allie filed that away, and irritation rose all over again. “We’re trying to have a relaxing time, and you’re ruining it.”

  Roman turned the force of his attention onto her again. His wearing sunglasses should have diluted the effect, but she swore she could feel his gaze dragging over her, taking in her high-waisted vintage swimsuit. It was a flirty black with pink polka dots, and she knew she looked damn good in it. From the way his grip tightened on his paddle, he agreed.

  A strange sense of power rolled through her. He wanted her just as much as she wanted him. She’d known that, of course, but the shock of his true identity had twisted everything up in her head. Roman might be considering trying to seduce her into submission, but... What if she turned the tables on him?

  Or maybe you want any excuse to get into bed with him again.

  She ignored the internal voice and leaned forward, giving him a good view of the excellent cleavage the underwire top created. A muscle ticked in his jaw, and she reveled in the power for a breath before reason kicked back in. “Get lost, Roman. You don’t have anything to say to me that I want to hear.”

  “We both know that’s not true.” His wicked grin widened, leaving no illusions to what he meant.

  Her irritation flickered hotter. He was sitting there, the smug bastard, and thinking he had her number just because he’d made her come more times last night than she’d thought physically possible. Thinking he could railroad her into doing what he wanted.

 

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