A miracle in Hawaii: a contemporary sexy romance

by Fiona Miers

  When Julian’s marriage ended and he’d needed time away from business, Kostas stepped up. But instead of looking after his company the way Julian expected, Kostas had siphoned money, hidden the complaints, and threatened senior management with job loss if they dared step out of line.

  They were in a lot of trouble by the time Julian came back to his senses and picked up his role again.

  Kostas was missing, with several million dollars of their money.

  But he’d be found. Eventually.

  Julian glanced down at his watch just as the second hand ticked toward the number twelve. An hour had passed since he’d seen Miss Samara Jenkins. The door to the restaurant opened and then clicked shut again. A smile tugged at Julian’s lips. On time to the second.

  She walked toward him, her thin, plain blue cotton dress clinging to her lush curves. Where was the battle armor that he’d come to expect with business women? She wore natural makeup that accentuated her pretty face, and her entire ensemble had a relaxed holiday feel about it that he hadn’t expected. She wore flat shoes, her hair down, and no jewelry.

  Samara Jenkins had a body that would look spectacular naked, and stretched across his bed. Long hair that would cover her full breasts like a silky curtain, and lips that would be perfect to kiss. He raised his eyes from the full curve of her mouth to make eye-contact and her fresh face hit him right in the gut.

  They’d lied about her being beautiful.

  Breath taking seemed far more apt.

  Samara pulled out the chair and took the seat opposite him. “This hotel is in dire straits. I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so bad before.”

  The smile that had been playing at his lips as he’d imagined her naked converted into a tight frown. He cleared his throat and shifted in his chair, unable to simply just take her criticism. He opened his mouth to defend his hotel, then snapped it shut again.

  She has a point.

  Three months more of the current climate and he’d have to shut the hotel down to sit here and rot. He would never allow that to happen on his watch, and although he didn’t require her help, she was here. He would be stupid indeed not to take advantage of it. “What do you suggest, Miss Jenkins?”

  She grinned at him with sunny warmth and picked up the menu. “That's the spirit. I like it. Can we order first?” She glanced down into her menu. Her mouth tweaked up at the corners as she read, her happy face at odds with the churning in Julian's guts. What was wrong with him?

  Samara lifted her head and swiveled like a bird, eyes alert and neck straight. “Where are the staff? This is the hotel’s five-star restaurant, is it not?”

  That twist in his belly rolled some more as his cheeks flared with heat. Each sentence she uttered reminded him of how badly he’d failed in his job of maintaining his family’s holdings. How much work this hotel actually needed to get it back to the standard it had once boasted. She was the salt in a very large wound, and to make matters worse, his own mother had been the one throwing the salt.

  He lifted his hand and indicated to the man lolling around in the corner of the room. The youth sashayed over, his hips taking on a music of their own.

  “Yeah?” the waiter asked him.

  A little giggle burst from Samara's mouth. “Ooh, we are in some serious trouble.”

  “I'll have the steak,” Julian ground out, glaring at the youth until he looked at the carpet. Samara’s relaxed attitude grated on his nerves. This was serious. They were losing tens of thousands by the day and she was giggling her way through dinner. Why the hell had his mother hired this woman?

  Because she’s the best, they all said it. Just wait! You can’t afford for any of this to go wrong.

  “And you, ma'am?” the waiter asked, inclining his head towards Samara.

  Finally, some manners.

  “I'll have the garlic shrimps for entree, the fillet steak for main and the chocolate soufflé for dessert.”

  The waiter’s eyes bulged a little at her order but he pulled out his pen and pad from his pocket and wrote it all down, Julian hoped, correctly.

  Samara’s keen eyes watched the waiter as he walked away and then gave Julian a pointed stare as though trying to communicate without words just how bad the service was. Anger rolled in his belly like a storm cloud, his hands fisting on the white table cloth as he maintained eye contact with her green gaze. He’d thought he’d be prepared for how badly the hotel would fare under the stare of a professional, but he had been grossly mistaken.

  Pride warred with stubborn arrogance. Maybe, just maybe, he could use her to help. He was surprised by her order, but didn’t say anything. Either she was hungry after her journey, or she was testing out the skills of his cook. He was impressed either way. Bird-like salads were no way to eat, for anyone.

  Her lips twisted up into a grimace. “No drinks order and he didn’t ask how I wanted my steak cooked… Interesting.”

  Julian nodded once in acceptance of her complaint. Too true.

  When the incompetent waiter finally left, Julian grabbed for his water, gulping down some of the cold liquid as his aching throat cried out for it. When he placed it down, some of his thirst quenched, Samara's cool green eyes continued to stare at him.

  “Start from the beginning, Mr. King, and tell me how this happened.”

  Julian took a moment, and a long breath, to consider how much he should tell her. He didn’t want her help. But she was here and he would consider what she had to say. His mother was paying her to consult for them, and before all of this, that would have been enough.

  However, she didn’t need to know everything. “All right, Miss Jenkins. As my mother would have told you over the phone, my family owns a chain of hotels all over the world. Over the past year, their management had become increasingly questionable.” And his parents would never forgive him for screwing his way through Europe instead of being at home, running the company, while his legacy fell apart. The worst part was, that he’d bribed most of the executive managers to hide what he was doing. His treachery had reached far and wide. “All the other hotels had good enough staff to survive the storm and since we found who’d been syphoning money, the bleeding has stopped. We are re-building. New managers have been hired and the other hotels are thriving. This one however, is not. Despite us hiring the best local manager we could find. That is why I am here….” He chewed on the inside of his cheek. “And the reason I believe my mother hired you. She was told that you have an exceptional brain for analyzing what any business needs, if you indeed have it.”

  She didn’t respond to his back handed compliment except to bite on her lip in the most adorable way that made him want to lean in and take over with his own mouth.

  “Is there any particular reason why the management of your hotel became questionable?”

  He clenched his teeth together and inhaled through his nose. It hurt, like picking at a sore to be admitting this to her, but he was an adult, and responsible for his own actions. “I wasn’t paying attention as I should have been. Personal reasons.”

  She gave him a soft smile that did nothing to maintain the ice around his heart.

  “I won’t ask you what sort of personal reasons, Mr. King, it is none of my business, but I am going to assume such problems are behind you?”

  Bloody hell, yes.

  He nodded once and she continued. “From what I’ve seen, we’ll need months to get this hotel back to a standard that can be classed as five star, but I don't have that much time.”

  “Yes, your personal reasons.”

  “Just so.” She inclined her head again, a mutual respect for their private lives firmly in place. His mother had made it clear that she was only available for two weeks. It had been one of the only reasons he had allowed his parent going over his head and hiring a consultant to help him. He wouldn’t have to deal with her interference for very long.

  Just think of her as an over qualified assistant, and fix up this mess, Julian. The last words his mother ha
d said to him, over a week ago.

  “However, I will give you these two weeks, Mr. King, and I promise to work my absolute hardest to put into place everything you will need. Once I am done, do you have strategies in place to get people back to the hotel?”

  He nodded firmly, reluctantly impressed with her. She was right, two weeks was not long enough to get everything done that needed to be done, but if he decided that she’d be of use to him, he would change her mind. She’d stay. He’d make sure of it.

  However, she’d made a valid point. Many people had been driven away by the declining standards of the hotel, and it was his main job to do everything in his power to get people back onto the grounds. But that meant he needed someone else manning the changes to the actual hotel.

  Damn. Mom might actually be right about this one.

  “Yes, Ms. Jenkins. I have a marketing expert on standby and several conferences already booked for next month. The one advantage we have is that we are one of the few hotels on the island with large facilities and the rooms to house several hundred people.”

  “Fantastic.”

  Her shrimp arrived and they looked and smelled great. His stomach grumbled in preparation for his own meal.

  “Presentation is respectable, but I would expect less shrimp on the plate, and more color in an entree.” She took a forkful of rice and ate a single shrimp. Just one? “They are cooked… all right, although I believe you will need to hire a head chef to take over from the current one.”

  “You can tell that already?”

  She blinked once, her eyes wide as they stared at him. “Of course. I spent several years training with five star restaurants and all of their staff. Chefs in particular. This is not up to the standard in taste, texture, or design. If you want people to pay twenty odd dollars for an entree, you better make sure it’s up to par.”

  She had his curiosity well and sincerely hooked. “Why a head chef specifically?”

  “Because it’s obvious that you have a cook posing as the head chef in your kitchen that is probably trying their best, but they don’t have the training, nor the skills. A proper head chef will organize the staff, train them, and add the correct flair to each dish. You won’t need much more staff in the kitchen I don’t believe, although of course I will assess that when I go in.”

  She called the waiter over. “Thank you. May I have the main meal now please?”

  Julian sat in awe watching her, the cool confidence, the girl next door beauty. Her brain appeared to work faster than anyone he’d ever met, and her earthiness was as refreshing as her simple clothes. “What else do you suggest?”

  She sat up straighter, a grin stretching across her pink glossed lips. “Firstly, we need to get in a decorator. Tomorrow preferably. The rooms aren’t terrible, but they all need better linens, painting, and a very thorough cleaning at the very least.”

  He kept his tone calm and raised one eyebrow. Did she want him to pick the hotel up and move it closer to the beach too? “That's all?”

  She laughed. “You joke, but the list I have is huge. I need to interview every staff member and probably double the cleaning crew. This whole hotel needs maintenance. We need to hire a concierge and a proper manager. I assume there is one at the moment, although I have yet to meet them, but if they are in the same boat as the rest of the staff, then they need some serious re-training too.”

  He cleared his throat. “I found the executive manager siphoning money from the hotel like many of the others. I fired him a few weeks ago. The local manager is not up to speed, you are quite right about that, so I will be hiring a new one.”

  Their main meals arrived and Samara did a similar analysis, sampling everything on her plate, making similar comments, and then asking for the meal to be taken away.

  Julian ate his steak while she talked about the amenities, the website, everything. He rarely felt out of depth with a person, in fact, from all his years in private school, college, university and then the corporate world, he'd never had an experience like this one. A literal whirl wind of information, design and strategy. If she was half as efficient and effective as she seemed to be, he’d have his family’s hotel back on track in no time.

  When dessert arrived, she sighed dramatically. “Now this is what I'm talking about.”

  “Why? Because it has cream and a mint leaf?”

  The meal appeared dressed better than all the other meals, but he was by no means a food critic.

  “That is an answer that is hard to explain to anyone who doesn’t love chocolate as much as I do.”

  She took a bite and moaned, her eyes sliding closed in bliss. That primitive sound shot straight to his groin, hot blood throbbing along his cock as he imagined Samara beneath him making those same sounds. He bit back his own groan and looked away, unable to hide the effect she was having on him.

  He needed a woman, and fast. It had been too long for him, obviously. Embarrassment bloomed into anger in his gut. Time to cut this meeting short and go back to his own room for a long, hot shower.

  “I want a report on my desk by tomorrow morning. Good night Miss Jenkins.” He stood up and Samara gaped up at him. A twang of guilt hit him in the chest, but he pushed it away just as fast.

  “Did I say something wrong?”

  He tugged at his cufflinks and straightened his jacket, a cool breeze filling his throat and not allowing any warmth into his tone. “No, of course not. But there’s lots to do and not much time to do it in.”

  She put her spoon down, her eyes showing confusion in their green depths. “All right. I’ll put everything down for you.”

  His shoulders tightened with unease as he fought the need to apologize, sit down, and drown in her eyes once again. But that’s not what he was here to do.

  “Sleep well, Ms. Jenkins.”

  “Good night, Mr. King.”

  Chapter Two

  According to Julian’s mother, Samara only gave them two weeks. A ridiculous time line, but she had been uncompromising. A trait, he himself admired. However, the clock was ticking and the stress was mounting to get the hotel back on its feet.

  His office door opened and shut. Samara’s soft foot falls sounded in the small room.

  “Your report?” he asked her as he continued to stare at the computer screen. He’d slept terribly and currently it felt like tiny elves had taken their picks to his eye balls.

  Visions of Samara’s abundant curves tortured him all night, and as he lifted his head to face her, the flesh and blood version of his dreams assailed him. She wore a knee length cotton skirt that swished around her shapely calves and a white top that exposed the creamy slopes of her full breasts, haunting him once again.

  Didn’t the woman own a poncho she could throw on?

  “Here it is.” She slid the papers along the desk toward him.

  There was more than he’d expected considering he’d only given her a night and she would be jetlagged. Graphs, estimates, color schemes, details upon details.

  “Thank you. You can go now.”

  “Go, where?”

  “Anywhere you like. I need a minute to go over your suggestions.”

  He picked up the report, focusing on the words as he waited for her and her floral perfume cloud to leave. He reached the end of the third page and she was still casting a shadow over him. “Did you need something else, Ms. Jenkins?”

  She didn’t respond and he sighed, reluctantly glancing up at her again. She had her arms crossed over her chest which caused her small cleavage to deepen above her white top.

  Arousal flourished in his belly, hot and sharp.

  He pushed himself back in his chair and suppressed the deep groan that rose in his throat. Her appeal was so different to anything else he’d experienced before. She wore no push up bras or designer dresses. Comfortable and casual, the opposite of sexy. Yet, the image of pulling her across the desk and undressing her with his teeth danced across his mind.

  “Your family hired me to do what I ca
n to fix the hotel. Why am I being pushed out of the loop? Can I start training staff, hiring professional decorators, and generally kicking ass?”

  He admired her spunk, but after everything he’d been through with his manager recently, he needed to get one thing clear first. There was a hierarchy in every business and he sat at the top of this pyramid, paying her salary. His parents had handed over the reins to the company two years ago, and although they’d lost faith in his ability to run things, he wouldn’t have any of his contractors feeling the same way.

  “Number one, I look forward to seeing you get started, however, I need to have a look at your proposals first. And number two. I didn’t hire you, my parents did, without my permission.”

  Her eyebrows rose comically high on her pretty face. “Your permission? Aren’t they the parents and you the child? Why would they need your say so to make decisions about their hotel?”

  With deliberate slowness he stood, leaning on the desk with both palms flat to the mahogany. His heart pumped louder in his ears, his arms trembling where he pressed them hard into the wood. He clung to his control because he knew Samara had no idea of the turmoil he was in. How his pride had been pricked when his mother hired Samara to help him, rather than allowing him to prove his worth on his own. But that didn’t mean she could question him in such a way.

  “I am the sole director of my family’s hotels, my parents mere stock holders. You appear to be a appropriate choice for consultant, however I’ll be calling the shots”

  “That seems like a waste of my talents and considering the deadlines we’re under, a huge waste of time.”

  Although he agreed with her in principal, he wasn’t being hurried into any decisions by her. “Pardon me?”

  “If I have to go through you every time I need to make a decision, we will never get this hotel back to the state it deserves.”