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Now, Please

Page 3

by Willow Summers


  A crease worked between his brows. He gestured toward the stairs leading up to the door of the jet. His stellar watch, which must have cost at least $15,000, sparkled in the light.

  “The watch with the diamonds on the face was a nice touch, too.” I laughed. “Nothing says working man like a fancy watch.”

  He didn’t reply as he followed me up.

  The trip to Nevada was short and quiet. Hunter had his head bowed over his computer, as did I. I did not want to blow this trip for him, and he didn’t want to ruin this opportunity.

  By the time we had finally reached our destination, a sprawling business complex about an hour outside of Las Vegas, we hadn’t said more than a few words to each other. If I hadn’t been so nervous about my role during this summit, that probably would’ve bothered me.

  “Yes, Mr. Carlisle, thank you for joining us!” A man in his fifties smiled at Hunter from behind the check-in desk. Three large arrays of flowers shooting out of decorative vases dotted the countertop. Behind us in a greeting area, the size rivaling any Las Vegas hotel, sat a plethora of couches and chairs, and a couple of stations offering computer access. A TV spoke softly in the distant corner and a waft of soft music drifted from speakers in the ceiling.

  “Okay…” The man laid out a piece of paper and immediately busied himself with plastic room keys. “Two rooms, is that correct?”

  “Yes.” Hunter signed the forms and pushed them back across the counter before shifting his briefcase to his other hand. He stared at the man, his eyes hard.

  That was his patient mask. No wonder people thought he was angry all the time.

  “All righty, here we go.” The man laid two sets of keys on the counter in their little sleeves, open to the room number. “Second floor, rooms three-oh-five and three-fifteen.”

  Hunter pushed the keys back toward the man. “No. The rooms need to be next to each other, adjoining if possible.”

  “I am so sorry, sir—I see that in the notes here. Just a moment.” The man took to his computer with a knot in his brow. In just a moment, he nodded and clicked the mouse. “No problem. We’ll have to move you to rooms at the rear of the compound, but that can be arranged easily.”

  “The rear of the compound?” Hunter asked.

  The man looked up with a smile. “Yes, sir. Just to the back. You are a little further away from the heart of the hotel, but the rooms are bigger. Golf carts are at your disposal if you want to see the grounds.”

  “Oooh, yay!” I blurted.

  Hunter looked at me, confusion clouding his gaze. A moment later, his face cleared and the hint of a smile worked at his lips. He turned back to the desk. “Fine.”

  I let my attention wander as someone came through the front door. I recognized the tall, handsome older man immediately, walking in like he owned the hotel and the world it was built on. Rodge Carlisle, Hunter’s father.

  “Have a good stay!” The man at the counter beamed.

  “Hunter,” I said quietly.

  He looked at me before following my gaze. His body stiffened and his eyes took on a hard edge. He turned back to me. “Let’s go.”

  Rodge saw me then, and gave that charming smile that opened doors and fooled the unbelievers. His eyes twinkled. He winked at me.

  I gave him a scowl before turning away. I didn’t really have a reason to hate him—making a pass at me didn’t make most people a mortal enemy—but my allegiance was to Hunter, and if Hunter hated the man, then I was on board. Brenda didn’t like him either. Done and done. My you-suck face was in full effect!

  I followed Hunter through the large foyer and into a hallway, trusting he knew where we were going. We left the building through a glass door and slowed as we reached the heart of a large garden, turning a harried pace into a stroll. The smell of flowers and foliage greeted me. The weak late-fall sun sprinkled down, but it was not enough to erase the desert chill.

  “No pool for me—too cold.” I shivered and crossed my arms. I should’ve brought a thicker sweater.

  Hunter glanced over as we ambled along a winding path. “Wrong time of year.”

  “Yes, it would seem,” I said in a dry voice.

  “Hot tub.”

  “Then your father would probably hop in wearing purple Speedos or something. No thanks.”

  I meant it as a joke, but Hunter’s shoulders tightened at the mere mention of his dad. He slowed to a stop, eyes rooted to a cactus. “Olivia, I think you should know that I’m not exactly rational where it comes to my father. Some scars run too deeply. So if…” His jaw clenched. He slipped one of his hands into his pants pocket. “If you flirt with him, or spend time with him, I’m not sure I’ll react…professionally.”

  I laid my hand on Hunter’s arm. His head tilted toward me fractionally, but he didn’t turn to meet my gaze. “The man is old, he’s a total fake, and he gives me the heebie-jeebies. Trust me, I’m not going to swan-dive into a conversation with him if I can help it, let alone flirt.”

  Hunter shifted a little. His arm brushed against mine as he continued to look at the prickly plant. Without thinking, I slipped my hand around his arm and leaned against him.

  “What’d he do?” I asked softly.

  I felt Hunter stiffen again before he pulled away and returned to a hurried pace.

  “So, that question is off-limits, I take it,” I mumbled as I followed after him.

  We reached a large square area where two neat lines of golf carts stood.

  He walked toward the one on the end. “You can drive us. I want to think over the best way to make contact with Donnelley.”

  Like a kid getting handed a piece of candy, I crawled into the cart with a huge smile. I stowed my laptop behind me and checked out the controls. There was a key, a gas pedal, a brake pedal, and a couple buttons—probably lights and a horn. I turned the key, placing my hand on the shifter next to the wheel when it shimmied to a start.

  He climbed in and rested his briefcase on his lap.

  “Ready?” I asked, pushing the gear to “D.”

  “Take it away, Dale Earnhardt, Jr.”

  Laughing, I stepped on the gas and we lurched to a start. “Touchy, this thing.”

  “When was the last time you drove?” he asked, grabbing the handle on the dash.

  “Um…five years ago, I think. I didn’t have a car in college.”

  “Have you ever owned a car?” He pointed to the right. I couldn’t read what the sign posted on the corner of the grass said, but turned that way, anyway. Obviously he knew where he was going. And if not, it didn’t matter. It was only a golf cart, but it was fun.

  “I sold it for some college money.”

  “Excuse me if this is too personal, but your mother didn’t help you?”

  “She didn’t help, no. She’s…a bit self-centered. She grew up with a mother exactly the same, with the same affinity for married men. Some people become the opposite of how they were raised, and some…don’t.

  “She had two brothers—who I’ve never met. Being the youngest, with a mostly absent mother, she had to fend for herself a lot. They were cash poor and property rich, so when her mother died, she inherited a lot of property. Most she sold, then blew. So now she hoards what little she has left. She dates rich men and she keeps up with plastic surgery—paid for by the rich men.”

  “And you don’t blame her.” Hunter wasn’t asking a question, he was making a statement.

  I shrugged. “I do, in some ways. But she’s a product of her childhood. I’ve stopped trying to understand my mother, and blaming her won’t change who I am now.”

  “And you?”

  I followed his pointed finger to the path on the left. “I’m my father’s daughter. And he was a very loving, giving man. I was an accident. My mom didn’t want my dad—he wasn’t rich or anything. Handsome, but that’s about it. She was having fun, and the fun caught up with her.”

  “And he passed a few years ago, correct?”

  “Right after I got accepted to
Stanford, yes. I’ve never seen him more proud.” Tears blurred my vision, as I remembered his beaming smile even though he was pretty sick with cancer at that point. “He always told me that I was his life’s treasure. That he hadn’t known what love was until I was put into his arms. I miss him.”

  Hunter was silent for a while. Finally he said, “And what happened after he passed?”

  “I was mostly on my own.”

  “That must’ve been hard. Especially without funds.”

  I shrugged again, pulling up in front of a sprawling building with a few golf carts parked haphazardly out front. I parked beside the closest and shut off the engine. “I had a few grants that I used for living expenses and worked a few hours in the library, so I made do. At the time I thought the overpriced education would open doors to fabulous and high-paying jobs…”

  “Bad timing. A few years earlier, and it would have.”

  “Yeah, that’s what Kimberly says every time she buys me lunch.” I climbed from the seat and grabbed my computer. “Although I did land a high-paying job, regardless of the field, so I have that going for me.”

  “Except for the additional requirements asked of you in the name of some rich man’s whim…”

  I glanced at Hunter as he opened the door for me. His expression was completely blank. It didn’t match the heavy tone he’d just used.

  “I wouldn’t do it if I didn’t want to, Hunter,” I said as we entered the building.

  We walked through the plush halls in silence. Decorative sconces lined the walls and a busy pattern confused my eyes underfoot.

  We twisted and turned through the corridors until we reached rooms 1022 and 1023. Hunter opened 1023 and once again held the door, following me in after. The room opened up before me in an abundance of hotel elegance. A king-sized bed sat against the far wall, a huge desk squatted in the corner, a chair in the other corner, a couch near the door—the one room was the size of my bedroom in San Francisco and adjoining living room, both. Maybe even the eating area. It was huge!

  “Jeez—why would you think I needed this much space?” I wandered in, walking to the right to look in the empty closet before peeking in the adjacent bathroom.

  “Your bags should be here any moment.”

  I emerged as Hunter was undoing the catch on an interior door on the side. Once opened, another white door barred the way—the one to his room. He faced me from beside the door. “Whenever you want privacy, go ahead and close this.”

  “Yes, because it’s a door. It closes…”

  He ignored my sarcasm, staring at me with an unreadable expression. “Olivia, I have to ask. How do you feel about Monday?”

  Goosebumps spread across my body as I realized what he was talking about. My cheeks heated. “It felt good. I wanted it.”

  His eyes delved into mine. “I realize you aren’t like the others. You didn’t accept these conditions for monetary or even professional gain. You’re in a dangerous place, Olivia. I’m not a man who feels. My intimacy is a distant thing, at best. I don’t love, and you have no future with me. I’m not good for you.”

  I folded my arms over my chest as uncertainty washed over me. “What are you saying?”

  A glimmer of helplessness entered his gaze. “I can’t give you what you’re going to want. But I won’t push you away, either. I’m selfish and I want you, but I’ll just keep taking and taking until I use you up. I need you to understand that. I need you to understand the danger you’re in.”

  “So…” I shifted to my right side, confusion and rejection dragging down the corners of my mouth. Heat prickled the back of my eyes, tears at the ready. It felt like a breakup. “Are you firing me, or what?”

  “No. This conversation is to absolve me of guilt. I’m sexually attracted to you in a way I haven’t been with anyone in a very long time. Possibly ever. I’d take you every day if I could. And I might. But I’m a soulless, heartless bastard who shuts off once he’s taken what he wants. That’s just the way it is. I won’t lie with you and cuddle all night. I won’t be able to love you, Livy. So if that’s not something you can handle, I’ll respect it if you take a job elsewhere in my company. I’ll set you up with whatever you need.”

  Unshed tears coated my eyes. It felt like he was ripping something from inside me that I barely realized he’d planted in the first place. I let my hands fall to my side. Now I knew, for sure, that he would steamroll me by the time this was all through.

  The question was, was the journey to love, no matter how it ended, more important than keeping the object of my affection? Because I was absolutely on that road. He knew it too, and I’d gotten a taste of it yesterday when all I could think about was seeing him again. I had to experience more of him, because in my heart, I knew he had so much more to offer.

  Except he’s not willing to offer it to you, Olivia!

  I looked away as a tear made its way down my face. I sighed in helplessness. “You won’t push me away, and I won’t walk away on my own, so I guess we’ll just have to see where it ends.”

  “We know where it will end,” he said softly.

  “Then so be it.”

  Hunter stared at me for a moment. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped at a knock on the door. He moved, and admitted the bellboy with a cart of luggage. Hunter arranged for the right bags to be brought in before tipping the man.

  He held the door open as the man wheeled Hunter’s own bags to the room next door. Hunter glanced at the inside door before letting his gaze settle on me again. “Use that door when you need some privacy. I’ll leave mine open in case you need something. I have to be in a conference in an hour, so I would advise you to take your computer and stroll through the grounds. Meet people. Make friends. You never know who you might need to accomplish your goals.”

  Another tear fell. I looked down at my bags as I rubbed my face before running my fingers through my hair. It wasn’t a good cover, but it was all I had.

  “Try to shut yourself off from me, Olivia,” Hunter advised softly. “Try to distance yourself, and think of this for what it is—experience and great sex.”

  “I don’t work like that. I can’t separate my heart from my life. It stops me from being a whole person.”

  “I know,” he whispered. And he stepped away. The door closed with a dull thunk.

  I heaved a breath and blinked, trying to rid myself of tears. I rubbed at my chest where my heart was seeping, aching painfully.

  I looked at my luggage for a long time, remembering the various looks I’d gotten from Hunter over the time I’d known him. I knew he was scared of love, and afraid of intimacy, because of whatever lurked in his past, but the deep passion he expressed in tender moments, and the openness he’d displayed, meant he was capable of it. I had to believe that.

  Maybe just not with me.

  I shook my head as a metal latch hit against wood. The connecting door swung open, revealing a muscular shoulder in a button-down shirt moving away on the other end. He’d said his piece, given me the warning I’d heard a few times before, and that was that. He was clear.

  I wished it were that easy for me.

  I took a quick shower to waste some time before climbing into my battle gear—jeans and a hoodie. Hunter said I could wear what I liked, so I chose a loose-fitting gray hoodie to complement my dour mood. I peeked into Hunter’s room, only to find it empty.

  I dusted myself with makeup and threw my hair in a ponytail. I didn’t need to try very hard to get that look. I probably wouldn’t see Donnelley, since the grounds were so big, and definitely wouldn’t randomly make friends. Like a stereotypical geek, I was more comfortable in a corner somewhere with my computer, avoiding contact with anyone else.

  I grabbed the plastic key off the little stand by the door and shoved it in my pocket before heading out with my computer. I found my golf cart right where I left it. Hunter must’ve walked. I climbed in and started her up with no idea of where I was headed. I just followed paths willy-nilly, until I
found a lovely little spot with non-native trees, non-native flowers, and definitely a non-native little lagoon surrounded by benches and tables. Maintaining the integrity of the Nevada desert was not important with this little setup.

  I shut off the engine and climbed out, lugging my ever-faithful computer with me. Two people sat at tables on opposite ends of the lagoon. I headed for one of the tables between them. As I passed the nearest man, though, I caught sight of his face.

  I did a double take. My foot caught a rock and had me stumbling to the side with a loud grunt.

  Donnelley looked up.

  Of course I’d find Donnelley. I had to, right? With my luck, there was no way that I would get to sit on my own and reflect on Hunter’s words. That would have been too easy.

  I pointed vaguely at the ground. “Rocky.”

  His focus dipped down to his hands where he held a phone. A man in his late fifties, he had graying hair and life’s wear and tear lining his face. Frustration painted his visage. His laptop was pushed away to one side.

  Now to make contact.

  “You…ah… Everything okay?” I’d never been good at initiating friendship.

  Chapter Three

  He glanced up in irritation. Great, I was already annoying him.

  “No. Just—” He shook his phone a little. “This blasted thing isn’t picking up a signal.” His eyes were crisp and blue, sparkling with intelligence and anger. “I design programs that sell like hotcakes on these things, but I can’t even work it.”

  “Oh. Um…” I shuffled closer. I should try to help. That was a good in. I just wished I wasn’t so awkward about it.

  It felt like high school all over again as I leaned over the table trying to get a peek at what he was doing. I expected him to pull the phone away from my prying eyes any moment and tell me to buzz off.

  I vaguely pointed again. “Looks like you’re in that weird place between Wi-Fi and phone signal…”

  Donnelley glanced up with a furrowed brow. He looked back at his phone. I was annoying him.

 

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