Isabella - Book One

by Thompson, Jamie Brook

  Hmmm. Didn’t see this one coming.

  He sprawls out onto the ivory carpet and plops my foot on his stomach while he fiddles around to get comfortable on his back.

  “You don’t have to do that.” I lean forward and try to remove his hand from the pressure point on my foot.

  He glances at my chest and quickly turns his head. “It’s fine. You need several minutes of pressure to get the full effect for relief.”

  I sit back in the seat and take in a deep breath from the blowing vent.

  Our conversation falls flat, but it’s not uncomfortable.

  He doesn’t move, which proves to me the tension between us isn’t weird like it probably should be. I decide to break the silence.

  “I have to admit I’ve never been this surprised on an appointment.” I tilt back my head, allowing the air to brush over my face.

  “Are you disappointed?” His questioning tone makes me think I’ve struck a nerve of insecurity.

  Nah, men like him aren’t hard wired with insecurities, I convince myself while I enjoy the blowing air. “Could any woman be disappointed being in your presence?”

  “You do realize I’m not paying you for compliments.” His voice is so heavy with sarcasm it makes me tip my head down to watch as he cracks a smile that makes the skin around his eyes crinkle. “And for the money I’ve invested, I expect you to be truthful at all times. I don’t want you to hold anything back.”

  “Are you sure?” I question, beginning to think of Hector.

  “Yes, I’m a man of steel. Nothing offends me. Nothing’s personal. It’s just business. And if I’m stuck with a woman flattering me all weekend, I’m going to grow very bored with the conversation.”

  Is he for real? He probably has one of those God complexes. A total Narcissus. Only I’m not going to let him stare into a pool of water that long just admiring himself. “Well, if you want the truth. I think you’re a prick the way you treat your employees.”

  He cringes. Probably from the word I was intentionally trying to get him riled up with. “I hardly think you’re the HR person to be giving me lessons on employee relations. Unless, you can outline a detailed list of your qualifications.”

  “I pay attention.” I grow upset over the rude attitude playing at his voice. “Do you even know Hector’s wife is dying of cancer and it could be cured if he had health insurance?”

  “Who’s Hector?” Reef lifts his head and his sandy blond hair dangles at his broad shoulders.

  “Your driver.” I seriously wonder if he’s kidding me. “The guy that works several jobs and probably prides himself on being at your beck and call.”

  He rests his head back onto the carpet and raises his large hand to smooth his hair back. “I don’t even think I knew his name. I only tell him where to take me or drop me off.”

  “Are you kidding?” I cut him off before he can say another word. “How long has he worked for you?”

  “I don’t know.” His eyes wander the ceiling as though he’s trying to calculate the time. “You’d have to ask Bonnie.”

  “Who’s Bonnie?”

  “My secretary.” He chews at his bottom lip. “Well, she’s sort of my personal assistant.”

  “Oh,” I say and steady myself as the jet begins to take a turn. “I hate these things. Why would anybody own one?”

  “You get used to it. After a while it becomes just like a car.”

  “I would never get used to something like this.” I promise him.

  He climbs to his feet and heads over to a wet bar area, pulling out a silver shaker. My eyes tighten at the thought of having to explain that we’re not permitted to drink on the job. I arch my back and press out my chest, tugging at my white tank. It might help a little. At least take his mind off forcing me to ingest a substance that weakens the senses.

  “Can I get you a drink?” He pulls out a variety of alcoholic beverages.

  “No thanks,” I say, playing at the neckline of my shirt as though I’m trying to straighten it. “I don’t drink.”

  “Nice.” A playful twinkle glows in his eyes. “Is that part of her rules? Employees must stay in complete control in order to avoid the big, bad wolves trying to steal their cookies.”

  “Something like that.” I raise a brow, enjoying the fact it’s not going to be a huge topic like it has been in the past with other suitors. “What I could really go for is an Everything bagel, toasted and smeared with plain cream cheese. And maybe a Coke Slurpee.”

  “A what kind of bagel?” He gives me an adorable pouty face, and then peers into the stocked cupboards near his shoulders.

  “It’s a bagel that has everything in it so they call it an Everything bagel.” The thought makes me hungry. I’m surprised. Normally I don’t want anything during a flight.

  “Well, I’m not sure they have 7-Eleven’s in Mexico, but I can certainly have the staff at my resort blend some ice and Coke together.”

  “Wait, you own the resort?” I’m stunned. Another welcoming distraction from the flight.

  “I own several things. And tonight we’re having our tenth anniversary of our first grand opening. Several actors in Hollywood bought a few of my condominiums.” He pops open a can of mango juice and holds it up as though he’s offering me some.

  I shake my head.

  I can’t concentrate on anything but the word actors right now. I’m wondering if I’ll run into one I’ve recently been out with. I can’t stand Hollywood and all its handsy men who think they can get away with murder simply because they have an Academy Award at home. Not with this girl. None of that impresses me.

  “So you mean like movie stars?” I ask, dreading his response. I thought this was going to be an easy weekend with no drama.

  “I have several that have bought condos from me who are coming.” He takes a gulp, and I can’t help but notice how attractive it is the way his throat constricts around the liquid. He stands there as though he’s thinking about the sweet taste, and then wanders over to sit next to me even though there are several other seats that would be more comfortable. Did this guy even read one word of the contract? Our thighs shouldn’t be touching like this. “If there’s one thing about Hollywood, it’s that they love to party. I’m not much for crowds and dancing, which is why I called your agency.”

  “Oh,” I say not bothering to tell him we’re not permitted to stand so close. The warmth from his skin is making me feel funny. What was X thinking? It’s as if she sent me on this assignment to fail. Tom Cruise has nothing next to this Mission Impossible. It’s seriously bothering me that I’m this stimulated sitting next to a guy that sometimes wears a man bun. But, my hell, does he look sexy wearing that man bun.

  The plane begins to descend.

  My gut feels like it belongs in my throat.

  “Why aren’t they warning us we’re about to land?” I gag the words out before placing a death grip on his strong forearm.

  “I have the speakers on silent.” He starts to shuffle around in the seat like he’s going to get up. “I can turn them back on if that will help you?”

  “No,” I sigh, and suck in a huge breath.

  He strokes my fingers. “Are you okay?”

  “No. I hate flying.” I pull my hand away.

  “Just relax and lean into my shoulder,” he encourages.

  I hesitate. I’ve already broken so many of the boundaries that Mr. Mexico could be in real trouble if we continue on this path. It’s not safe to put myself so close to a man I just met.

  The plane bounces from a gust of turbulence.

  To hell with it. I lean against his shoulder, clutching his bicep. “Where are your flight attendants?”

  “I had them take the day off. I figured you’d be more comfortable just the two of us.” He strokes the top of my head and plays with my hair. “Do you need a barf bag?”

  I nuzzle into the soft touch of his hands. “No, I’m good now.”

  “We’re almost to the runway.” He looks out the
small window.

  The wheels touch down and the loud vibrating sound relieves me more. It’s over. I pull myself off his shoulder. “I’m so sorry about that,” I apologize. “I’m awful at this.”

  “You did great.” His eyes deepen and for the first time I can see substance behind them. “I’m impressed you didn’t even toss your breakfast.”

  I lower my gaze. “How far is it to the resort? I’m not so sure I won’t.”

  He chuckles and leans over to unclip my seat belt. “Wrap your arms around me. I’ll help you to the limo.”

  I let out a gasp. “Another limo ride?” I want to cry. “This is exactly why I’m not cut out for the life of the rich and famous. I can’t handle everybody taking care of me. I like to be in charge of myself and drive my own car.”

  The pilot opens the jet door and a wicked heat whips my face like a blowing furnace. I lean against Reef. “I’m so sorry I’m being this forward. I promise Madame X wasn’t lying when she told you I get motion sick.” I want to puke just smelling the warm air. Welcome to Mexico. I swallow hard and try to maintain any dignity I might have left as the sun pelts against my skin. I wish I could paint a thousand clouds to cover the heat blazing from the sky that’s making me feel even sicker.

  Reef sneaks his hand around my waist and practically lifts me down the ladder where a limo is parked a few feet away. “Just try to relax.” He squeezes my side. “I’m in no hurry. I want you to be comfortable. I promise I’m going to take good care of you.”

  “Thank you,” I say, wondering how in the world a total stranger is making me feel so safe.

  “I don’t care if we sit out here for hours.” He steps onto the pavement, but continues to hold me, and I don’t pull away because those motion sickness pills have made me so exhausted on top of still feeling awful from all the altitude changes.

  I stand there for a moment and watch as a group of men rush around us to get our luggage off the jet. I actually like this part. I’m so happy not to have to worry about lugging my bags around when I feel this weak and nauseated.

  Reef tugs me over to the limo and helps me get inside the cool vehicle. I sit down and lean my head against the cool black leather grateful the interior isn’t ivory. I seriously might need that barf bag. He sits down and wraps his arm around my shoulder so he can mess with my hair again.

  “You really don’t have to be this nice,” I say, and start to pull away.

  He won’t have it.

  “I’m sorry. It’s just that we’re supposed to be at least a purse width away from each other anytime we’re in a sitting position,” I remind him of the rules.

  He scoots away a few centimeters. “You’ll have to forgive me, I’m new at this.”

  “No, you’re doing great.” I nuzzle into his hands, finding relief at the way he’s massaging my scalp. “I shouldn’t allow you to do this either, but right now I’m going to let it slide.” And If I weren’t so sick, I would kick myself for already allowing him to skid past so many rules.

  The car begins to move, making me wince.

  “Do you want me to make him stop?” Reef asks, staring down at me.

  I take a deep breath. “No, I’m fine. This is so pathetic.”

  “Just lean against my chest,” he invites, which sets me on edge.

  “I’m good,” I say, trying to resist what I know I shouldn’t do. But maybe the most uncomfortable part is that I really do want to lean against him. His masculine nature makes me feel safe. This guy is good. I try and block any sort of notion that there could be a connection between us, even if it’s just sexual chemistry.

  “Let me take care of you.” Reef reaches over and clutches me against him.

  I take in the comforting scent of his woodsy cologne.

  He begins stroking my hair from the top of my head all the way down to my back, and I don’t stop him. It feels too good. Something about the way he’s pressing against me seems to be taking away the horrid puking sensation I had only minutes ago.

  “Do you always get sick like this when you travel for dates?” he asks, resting his jaw on my head.

  “I don’t travel much. I usually take the local appointments.” I nuzzle deeper into the masculine smell of his chest, feeling totally relaxed. “I’m the Hollywood girl. I usually go to premieres when the producers can’t get a date for the red carpet.”

  “So, you haven’t traveled much?”

  “I’m not real great at it,” I laugh, “as you can see.”

  He rests his hand on my back. “Well, we’re just going to have to get you used to it. Maybe talk to a doctor and see what can help you travel more comfortably.”

  The sinful side of me wants to tell him that I’d travel fine if I could relax in his arms like this everywhere we went, but I hold back. I don’t want to start a fire I can’t put out. “Do people like me ever get better at traveling?” I stare up at him.

  His green eyes sparkle. “I’m sure they do. You just have to get used to it.”

  “Have you always been a good traveler?”

  “It’s been so long; I don’t even remember when I first started. I’m just used to it by now.”

  “Must be nice,” I sigh, and lower my head to focus on the masculine scent of his cologne, which has distracted me from the wheels of the limo bumping against the road. “I’m actually starting to feel better, but I don’t think I dare move from this position.”

  “Fine with me,” he quips and gently pokes my side.

  I shake my head a little. “This is probably something you’ll tell all your buddies. The whole boy meets girl on a plane. Girl gets sick. Boy nurses girl back to health.”

  “Am I nursing you back to health?” He gently lifts my chin, making a wave of adrenaline rush through my body.

  What is wrong with me? “Obviously, you’ve done this before,” I point out how natural he must be around women, considering I’ve allowed my guard down this far.

  “Haven’t been on a date in while.” His hand reaches up to shield his forehead. “I’m sad to say it’s been over ten months.”

  Dang. I lift myself off his chest. A dry spell like that could complicate things. I can’t take the chance of him feeling like I’ve led him on.

  “Something wrong?” he asks. His ocean blue eyes implore my body with curiosity.

  “I’m just feeling tons better.” I place my hand between us so the side of his body isn’t touching mine.

  “Did I say something to upset you?” He tilts his head.

  Just stop being so handsome, and sincere, and wonderful. “Oh, I just didn’t want to give off the wrong impression. I’m sure Madame X put you through the twenty-hour interrogation going over the rules.”

  He laughs.

  “It’s ridiculous isn’t it?” I scrunch my face. “But it keeps us safe.”

  There are tall, ivory buildings out my window that are glowing to life with a wide variety of flowers in full bloom. Reds, yellows, magentas. Basically every color in the rainbow is decorating the well-kept grounds where rows of palm trees line the terracotta brick road to the main office.

  “Wow,” I gasp. “This is amazing.”

  “You like it?” He stares at me as though he’s seeking my approval.

  “I can’t complain a bit about the ivory color.” I smile. “It plays off the foliage so well. I’d swear I was on some sort of tropical island paradise.” I take another peek out the window, admiring how far away it is from all the other resorts clumped together in the distance. “This place is incredible. And it’s so private.”

  “That’s why Hollywood pays to stay.” He chuckles, and gently runs his fingers through my hair again. “Should we check you into your room?”

  “Sure,” I say as the limo slows to a stop.

  I open the door and step out, taking a deep breath of the sweet smelling jasmine that are blooming against the decorative fencing that runs all the way down to the beach. Birds chirp in the tall palm trees. I stand there and listen to their happy songs
. This is why people vacation, I remind myself. It’s not about the long flights, or the long rides to get here. It’s this. A warm, cozy place on the beach that takes me away from the world. I haven’t had something this nice in a long time. I can’t imagine being stripped from the clean ocean breeze to be stuck in some fancy resort room. I want to be right here, away from reality for a while.

  “Reef, would it be okay if I just walked around for a while?” I ask.

  He glances down at his watch. “I have a few meetings in about ten minutes, but I could show you around. Maybe you could sit by the pool and have a drink while I’m gone.”

  I smile, hoping to hide my curiosity of why he never mentioned he had meetings at the airport. Would he have canceled them if I wanted to stay there a little longer to try and recover? Is he that sincere about wanting to make me comfortable?

  “I’ll make sure to have the staff take extra good care of you while I’m gone.” He links his arm through mine.

  “That would be nice, but I really just want to sit next to the pool for a while.” I say, trying to avoid any more questions running through my head that are making me more interested in this man than I should be.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Are you sure you don’t want me to show you to your room?” I ask Isabella, hoping she doesn’t notice I’m checking out how fine her chest looks in that white tank and orange cover. She’s perfectly sprawled out against that lounge chair next to the pool wearing sunglasses. It’s every man’s dream come true.

  “I’m fine.” She sucks in a deep breath of the perfect ocean breeze.

  “Make sure you keep the black towel with you at all times. That’s the only way the help knows how to treat you like a queen.” I lift her back and place a towel behind her.

  She nods.

  “I’m not sure when I’ll be back, but if you have any problems, tell them to get Maria.”

  “I’m totally fine.” She fans me away. “It’s not like I don’t know Spanish.”

  I tilt my chin and chuckle. “I forgot that.”

  “Just take your time. I need a minute to wear off the jet lag.” Her large smile is even more brilliant in the afternoon sun.