Chapter Two
Three Years Later
Ella Simpson was in love with a married man, and not just any married man, but her boss. Not that she had ever let him know, even before he’d recently married his childhood sweetheart.
But she had come close to doing it when she’d first found out about his hasty marriage. She’d almost blurted out everything she was feeling and thinking.
How could you do this to me?
Don’t you know I love you?
Why do I always fall for the ones who are unattainable?
She hadn’t though. Instead, she had left Andrew Montgomery’s office in tears. It was just her luck that his business partner and the one man she couldn’t stand, Blake York, had intercepted her on her way to the ladies’ room.
“Did Montgomery make you cry?” Blake demanded in a voice she’d never heard before. Harsh. Unforgiving. If she didn’t know for a fact that the two of them were friends, she would have thought Blake wanted to hurt Andrew.
She shook her head, drawing herself up and straightening her shoulders. “No one made me cry.”
“Then why are there tears on your cheeks, love?”
Ella hated it when he called her love. It made her feel special, which was stupid because he called every woman at Montgomery Industry love. “Allergies.”
“You don’t have allergies,” he insisted. “If he made you cry, I’ll talk to him, yes?”
Ugh. Why hadn’t she gone with ‘the sight of you makes me cry’? Or ‘that tie clashes with your face’? She didn’t want his concern, and she sure as heck didn’t want his pity. She’d had enough of that when he’d discovered her one-sided emails.
“Whatever you think is best.” She brushed past him. “I have work to do, Mr. York.”
Ella took another sip of her strawberry daiquiri and stared out at the crystal-blue sea, feeling more and more like a lovesick fool with each passing minute.
Only a lovesick fool would agree to be a bridesmaid, in a “proper wedding” as York kept calling it, when she was in love with the groom.
Only a lovesick fool would fly to a destination resort two days ahead of time to fully enjoy the amenities.
Except... Andrew counted on her to keep his life running, and she couldn’t let him down. She hadn’t in five years... And his wife, Ella grudgingly admitted, seemed very nice. Her boss could have done a lot worse, like marry Alexis George instead.
She shuddered at that horrifying thought.
“Is this seat taken?”
Ella looked up, eyes narrowing as Blake’s smiling face. Of course he would come to the resort early as well. “Yes.”
He sat down. “Brilliant.”
“I said it was taken.”
“Of course you did.” He held up his glass. “Care to make a toast?”
“Will it make you leave if I do?”
“Most definitely,” he murmured, sending her heartbeat skittering out of control.
She hated how he could do that to her. Blake shouldn’t be able to do that to her at all. “Great. Here’s to you leaving.” She threw back her drink.
“Cheeky.” He didn’t look the least bit put off by her impromptu toast, and he didn’t look ready to leave either. “My turn. Here’s to a mutually satisfying week.”
“The only way I’d be satisfied would be if you left early. Like now. But since you won’t, I’ll be on my way.”
Blake stopped her with one touch. Tingles shot up her arm. Her eyes rounded.
“Don’t be in such a hurry, Ms. Simpson. We have so much to discuss.”
“We have nothing to discuss,” she said primly.
“Dear Andrew, I can’t stop thinking about—”
“How dare you!” Cold fury and embarrassment invaded her body, replacing every bit of desire that had dared to cloud her mind. Would she ever be able to live down those private emails?
“Now that I have your attention, may I make my intentions known?” he asked smoothly, crossing his long legs at the ankle.
“And what would those be?” She glared down at him, at his smirking mouth and wicked blue eyes. Such a shame that the devil looked like a handsome prince.
“You in my bed.”
“Not a chance in hell.”
“Give me one date.”
She laughed. “You think you could change my mind with only one date?”
“Fine. Two dates.”
“Ten,” she snapped.
“Five,” he countered.
“Eight.”
“Done.” A satisfied smile covered his gorgeous face.
Sweet Lord. What had she agreed to? Holding up her hands, she began to shake her head. “I didn’t mean it like that. I got caught up with arguing and—and—”
He jumped to his feet, like a graceful cat. “Oh, but you did.” Leaning down, he lightly kissed her cheek. Her pulse raced. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning for breakfast.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t want a nightcap,” she grumbled.
“That’s date three.” He winked, and then sauntered away, like a man who’d just... well, had gotten one over on her.
She had the childish urge to stomp her feet and throw something at him. “Ooooh. There is no way I’m going on one date with that man, much less eight,” she said as she began to make her way back to her hotel room.
Chapter Three
Blake’s first thought upon waking was his conversation with Ella.
It wasn’t well done of him, but he didn’t bloody well care. He was determined to get her to see him in a new light, even if she thought he only wanted her in his bed.
Of course, he wanted her in his bed, but he wanted more than that. He wanted her smiles, her laughter... he wanted the woman he’d met three years ago.
He shoved the covers back and walked to the bathroom, cutting on the shower. While the water steamed up the room, he shaved and brushed his teeth before quickly washing up. He had to catch her at breakfast, only he wasn’t sure if she would be seated on the pavilion or stay in her room.
Taking a chance, he pulled on a pair of board shorts and a t-shirt before heading to the pavilion. Luckily, the place wasn’t packed.
Eyes roaming the room, he found the woman of his dreams seated near the pool. She looked enchanting in her sundress and a wide, floppy hat that kept her pale skin from burning.
Keeping one eye on her, he ran the breakfast gauntlet and filled up a plate. She still hadn’t seen him because if she had, Ella would have left already.
Silently making his way to her, he could barely contain the hope that threatened to bubble up. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, sitting across from her.
Her head lifted, and her eyes narrowed as she stabbed a piece of helpless pineapple in the process. She had terrifyingly good aim. “It was a good morning.”
“Until I showed up?”
“Exactly.”
“And made it the best morning you’ve ever had,” he said, enjoying the way her eyes rolled and her nostrils flared slightly. If he couldn’t have her soft and sweet, then he would take her passionate hatred of him instead.
“Would you listen to yourself?”
“Rather listen to you, love.”
“Oh, I can go on for hours,” she practically growled at him.
His gaze dropped to her lips. “So can I.”
Her lips parted, twin rosy petals. Her tongue darted out, licking the bottom. His gut clenched. Then she seemed to compose herself, sitting up straighter.
“You really want to listen to me talk?” she asked.
“Yes.”
She studied his face, as if looking for the lie in his answer. “Fine.”
He tucked into his pancakes. “I’m all ears.”
Those lips of hers puckered and he bit back a smile, concentrating on chewing and swallowing instead. “I... don’t know what to say.”
“Where did you grow up?” he asked.
She blinked at him. “South Carolina. Little town called Knight’s Way.”
/> “Never been there. Would I like it?”
“I thought this was supposed to be about me?” she pointed out with a haughty look on her face.
“Quite so.” He waved his fork in the air. “Carry on.”
“I doubt you would like it.”
“Why?”
“It’s nothing but country folk. Only one stoplight in the entire town and most of the time, it’s on the fritz,” she said with obvious affection. “But Knight’s Way still has a drive-in movie theater and Beechum’s Drugstore. Best grilled ham and cheese around.”
“I’m a huge fan of grilled sandwiches,” he said, and her beautiful eyes narrowed. “All right, so I’m an indiscriminate fan of food in general.”
A ghost of a smile played on her lips. “You would find my grandparents’ grilled ham and cheese irresistible.”
I find you irresistible. “What about your parents?”
“My mom just retired from teaching, and my dad will retire from UPS next year. I don’t get to see them much with my work obligations.” She shook her head a little. “I don’t know why I’m telling you this. You already know.”
“I don’t make it a habit to snoop.”
“Except when you can’t help yourself,” she pointed out.
He didn’t want to argue with her. Didn’t want to bring up the beginning of their years of animosity—at least on her side. He’d never hated her.
“I didn’t look into your past,” he maintained.
Her eyes widened a little. “I can’t believe I’m admitting this, but I think you’re telling me the truth.”
“Haven’t I always?”
“I don’t know.”
That was a fair enough assessment. He’d teased and double-talked her to no end. “Honestly, I’ve not looked, Ella.”
“You’ve made it difficult to trust what you say.”
“What can I say to put your mind at ease?” he asked, desperate for the truth.
She shrugged, her gaze going to the ocean. Waves the color of turquoise splashed on pink sand. A gentle breeze blew through the palm trees.
“Nothing.”
“Then I won’t say a word.”
Her dark gaze focused on him. “Are you really going to hold me to eight dates with you?”
Though he nearly hated himself for it, there was no other way to get past her defenses. “Yes.”
She stood suddenly, her chair going back and her hat flopping wildly before she slammed her hand down on the top of it. “That’s one date down, York.”
“We’ve barely spent any time together,” he protested.
“You didn’t specify how much time we had to spend together, only the number.” She tilted her head to one side. “And the type of date. I’m done with breakfast, so our date is over.”
Grim determination set in. “Brilliant. I’ll see you tonight for dinner, at six thirty PM. My room. I’ll order for us.”
Her face paled a little. “I am not coming to your r—”
“Afraid of being alone with me?”
She sputtered. “N-no. Good grief, Blake, just because you’re handsome and have an accent does not make you God’s gift.”
“So you think I’m handsome?” He gave her a cheeky grin.
Her face flamed. “I’m not blind,” she said tightly, and then stormed off.
“You’re not immune, either,” he said, his mood considerably lighter.
Ella struggled to get her temper in check at his last remark. He had meant for her to hear him. She knew it. Blake had an uncanny knack for making her lose it. He knew just what to say.
But if she had to be honest, she wasn’t an innocent party in all of this. She gave as good as she got. Sometimes, she secretly liked their banter. Worse, she sometimes looked forward to it.
How she would get through eight dates with him, she didn’t know, but she would persevere. If only to prove to them both that she didn’t find him...well, she did find him attractive. In a hot, British guy sort of way.
He did have really nice hair—blond, thick, and wavy. His eyes were nice too—the color of the ocean right outside her balcony. And the way he was built—tall and lean. The man really ought to be on the cover of Men’s Fitness ...or GQ, considering the suits he wore to work each day.
“Stop,” she ordered herself.
“Stop what?” a familiar voice asked.
Ella drew up short. Just who she needed to run into. She glanced upwards and mouthed, Really, God, before turning to face the woman behind her. “Mrs. Montgomery.”
Warm grey eyes crinkled at the corners. “It’s Hannah.”
“Hannah,” Ella agreed, giving her a smile. Or at least she hoped it was a smile and not a feral baring of teeth. “Are you ready for the ceremony?”
“Mostly.” Hannah linked her arm with Ella’s and began to walk. Ella had no choice but to go along with her. “Want to know a secret?”
Please don’t be pregnant. She couldn’t handle that kind of happiness for her boss. And wasn’t she the most horrible person on earth for thinking that? “Sure.”
“The wedding isn’t for me. Drew thinks this is what I want, but really, I was happy to be married by the minister of beer.”
Ella’s jaw dropped. “The what?”
Hannah laughed. “Didn’t you know?”
“I had no idea.” The minister of beer? That did not fit in with her fantasy of Drew. Her Drew was sophisticated and—ohmigosh. He wasn’t her Drew. He was Hannah’s Drew.
“Desperate times called for desperate measures,” Hannah replied.
“At least he wasn’t so desperate he married Alexis George.”
“You got that right.” Hannah shivered. “She hadn’t changed a bit.”
Ella gazed at the blonde. “You know her?”
“Unfortunately, yes. Her family and Drew’s vacationed at The Magnificent Dunes. She was always scheming to get him alone, not that I can blame her.”
“Teenagers can be very dramatic”
“I’ve known Drew since I was eight,” Hannah replied. “But it feels like I’ve known him for far longer.”
Ella frowned. She hadn’t known that. She’d assumed Hannah was some girl from Drew’s past who needed money and, most importantly, wasn’t Alexis George.
“Are you okay?” Hannah asked, stopping in front of the resort’s spa.
“Fine. Just a lot on my mind.”
“Drew said you’re as bad as him when it comes to relaxing, which is why I went looking for you this morning.”
“He did? You did?”
Hannah nodded, clearly pleased with herself. “That’s why we’re going to have a girls’ day of pampering.”
Oh dear Lord. She was going to spend the day with the woman who’d married the man she loved. Or used to love. Or shouldn’t love. Either way, she was screwed.
“Yay,” Ella said.
“I’m going to pretend you’re excited and not feeling obligated.”
Ella gave the younger woman a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad that Drew is someone who inspires others to protect him, and if I have to prove to you, someone who has worked for him for so long and he can’t live without at work, that I’m more than some money-hungry bimbo, then I’m up for the challenge.”
“I don’t—I really don’t think that about you.”
“Maybe not in those terms, but you weren’t happy when my husband introduced us, and I want to change that.”
Ella was torn between laughing and crying. The woman wanted to be, for lack of a better word, friends with her. But would Hannah want to be friends if she knew about the emails? Would Hannah want to be friends if she knew that Ella was in love with her husband?
She felt like such a fraud in this moment, but maybe this was what she needed to move on from Drew. Maybe if she could learn to like Hannah, she would stop—she would just stop. That was all there was to it.
With an inward sigh, Ella gave Hannah a friendly smile. “Thank you for ask
ing me. I’d love to get to know you better.”
*
Six hours later, Ella flopped face-first onto her bed. She’d been buffed, polished, manicured, and pedicured to an inch of her life.
Oh, and she had a new best friend in Hannah Miller.
Gah.
Okay, so her day hadn’t been that bad and Hannah was really fun. If Ella hadn’t felt so damn guilty the entire time, she would have enjoyed herself a lot more.
Flipping onto her back, she stared up at the ceiling as a fan with carved wooden palm leaves circled lazily, feeling completely sorry for herself.
Her phone buzzed. She pulled it out of her pocket.
Blake: Are you allergic to shellfish?
She pursed her lips, debating on whether she should answer him. Knowing Blake, he would start calling her room phone and if that didn’t work, he’d simply show up and pester her until she answered him.
I’m only allergic to you.
Blake: Excellent. See you in two hours.
Grimacing, she tossed her phone to one side.
All she wanted was to be left alone so that she could get over Drew in private, not dragged to a resort and certainly not tricked into dating the man she couldn’t stand most days.
Only life never gave her what she wanted and that story she’d made up about Knight’s Way and Beechum’s Drugstore—she laughed bitterly—it was straight out of a Hallmark movie.
Ella Simpson had never grown up in a town like Knight’s Way—if there was such a place. Oh, no. She’d grown up on the wrong side of the tracks in Raleigh, with her aunt taking care of her. Well, when she wasn’t strung out or too drunk to remember she had a niece.
However, none of that matter now.
Besides, if she could survive growing up in hell, she could survive ten days in paradise.
Chapter Four
Ella had come dressed to do battle with him, Blake wryly observed as she swept inside his room. He had plotted and planned all day for their dinner, but never in a million years would he have expected her to come dressed in a barely there wrap dress that clung to her curves.
Gone was the usual bun, replaced with soft curls that cascaded over her pale shoulders like a river of molten lava. She had to be made of fire because he burned for her.
Her perfectly made-up face turned to him, black lashes so thick that she appeared to struggle to blink. The effect gave her a come-and-get-me look that he wanted to act on.
Seducing the Billionaire's Secretary Page 2