by Heidi Betts
“Good morning,” he greeted her, keeping things casual, upbeat. He was still on the other side of the threshold, one hand resting against the doorjamb. “Ready to go?”
She nibbled the inside of her bottom lip a minute longer, both corners of her mouth drawn down in a worried frown.
“Are you sure this is a good idea?” she asked. “With everything that’s going on, maybe I shouldn’t be leaving town. Especially with you.”
He slapped a hand over his heart, pretending to be wounded. “Why, darlin’, I do believe you’ve hurt my feelings.”
She chuckled at that, knowing darn well he was kidding.
“Fine,” she told him, reaching for the handle of one of the overnight bags at her feet. There were three in varying sizes and shapes, all part of a matching designer set. She thrust the largest at him before picking up the other two and stepping outside, shutting and locking the door behind her.
“But if anything happens and I can’t be here with my family when they need me, I’m blaming you.”
“It’s just Seabrook Island,” he reminded her as they headed for his car and he popped the trunk to load her bags. “A single phone call from your family, and I can have you back to Charleston within the hour. Less, if you want me to put a helicopter on standby.”
She shot him a withering glare before ducking into the passenger seat. “That won’t be necessary.”
He grinned back at her, then slammed the door and walked around to the driver’s side. They drove in relative silence until they hit the expressway before broaching a subject he’d been curious about ever since she’d first called to accept his invitation-slash-job offer.
“I take it Laurel was okay with you running off with me for the weekend,” he said, keeping his tone light and just this side of flippant.
For a moment, she seemed to hesitate, then she gave a short nod. Readjusting her seatbelt, she turned slightly to face more in his direction.
“She said she didn’t mind at all. She even claimed to think that my working with you was a good idea.”
He couldn’t resist a tiny smirk. “Told you so.”
“She sounded distracted, though,” Kara added without rising to the bait. “I don’t know if it’s Daddy’s death and Mama being blamed for it, or calling off the wedding to you, or something else altogether, but she hasn’t been herself lately.”
“You’ve both got a lot on your minds these days. Anyone in your situation would.”
Kara tipped her head to one side, whether in agreement or simply in thought, he wasn’t sure.
“Laurel and Mama were supposed to travel next month before the wedding. Mama can’t go, of course, now that she’s being accused of Daddy’s murder, but she doesn’t want Laurel to cancel the trip. I think there’s a part of Laurel that still wants to go, if only to get away from all the craziness here at home. But there’s another part of her that will feel guilty if she goes, because it will be like abandoning Mama or running off when the family needs her most.”
“Sort of like you running off with me this weekend.”
Eli purposely let his words hint at a double entendre, curious to see what Kara’s response might be. Would she immediately deny that they were “running off” or rush to clarify that it wasn’t that kind of trip? Or would she let it slide, silently acknowledging that it may indeed turn out to be that kind of trip?
To his surprise and delight, she let it slide.
“Yes. I told her she should go. It sounds selfish, but I think she could use the time away. She’ll come back with a clearer head, feeling more refreshed. And just like you said about me this weekend, if anything comes up that she needs to be here for, she can get home in a matter of hours.”
“Exactly,” he agreed, reaching over to take her hand. He twined their fingers together, pleased when she didn’t try to stop him. “So now that you believe getting out of town for a few days is a good idea for your sister, maybe you’ll start to believe it’s a good idea for yourself, too.”
She chuckled, her fingers tightening around his. Whether it was accidental or deliberate, however, he wasn’t sure.
“I guess I have to, otherwise I risk being a hypocrite, don’t I?”
“You certainly do,” he agreed.
“Hmm,” she murmured. “I think I’m beginning to learn what makes you such a successful entrepreneur. You’re a tough negotiator.”
“Damn straight.”
Though she didn’t know the half of it. But by the end of the weekend, she very well might. He would beg, borrow or steal to convince her to launch into a steamy, clandestine affair with him.
“Of course, it helps that I’m simply stating the obvious.”
“Arrogant, too,” she quipped. “How lucky that I get to spend the entire weekend with Mr. Know-it-All.”
“You love me, and you know it,” he shot back, bringing her hand to his mouth and pressing a quick kiss to her knuckles.
Eli wasn’t certain why he was pushing her so far so soon, when he’d been determined to be a perfect gentleman until they were comfortably settled at Ocean Breezes. But after dropping the first hint that there might be more to their relationship than she wanted to admit and not having her deny it, he felt compelled to press again.
Both his words—the L word, coupled with the declaration that she had feelings for him—and the intimacy of the kiss to her hand were designed to test her boundaries. Would she pull away? Would she correct him? Would she laugh it off or concede that, yes, she did love him, but only as a friend?
Oh, how that one would hurt. Because they were friends, but he wanted them to be more. And everybody knew that once a woman soundly relegated a man to the “friend” column, he had a better chance of sprouting wings and flying to the moon than ever making it even close to the “potential lover” category.
He didn’t expect her to jump across the console and molest him while he was driving, but when she untangled their fingers and slowly pulled her hand away to rest in her lap, he caught his breath. Anticipating the worst and wishing he’d kept his damn mouth shut.
“I do love you,” she said quietly.
So quietly, he barely heard her. When he chanced a quick glance in her direction, he found her no longer leaning toward him, but sitting up straight, staring ahead out the windshield.
“You’re one of my dearest friends.”
Bum-bum-BUM. The impending doom score from every movie he’d ever seen reverberated through his head.
Well, there it was. The kiss of death. A minute ago, he’d been pulsing with anticipation of the weekend to come. Now, he was almost sick with dread and wondering how the hell he was going to get through the next three days.
“I don’t think I’ve ever thanked you for all your support when Daddy first died. Being there for me, day or night.”
He’d been one of the first callers to show up at the Kincaid Mansion as soon as he heard about Reginald’s untimely death. It had been a suspected suicide then, which had left the family reeling. But then, finding out later that it was murder hadn’t been much better.
He liked to think he’d been there to support all of the Kincaids, doing whatever he could to help them in their time of need. But after the reading of the will, when each of Reginald’s children had gone home with a letter written specifically to them by their father, Kara had been the one to call him, sobbing.
There hadn’t been anything particularly pertinent in her letter. Kara wasn’t greatly involved in the family businesses, so there were no instructions on how to run the Kincaid Group or last requests for something Reginald wanted to see done. It was simply a father reaching out to his daughter one final time, telling her how much he loved her.
Eli had stayed on the phone with her well into the night, saying what he could to comfort her, listening to her voice her grief and share special memories of her father that no one else—not even her brothers and sisters, in many cases—possessed. And he’d been happy to do it, grateful that there was somethin
g he could do for her at a time when he felt pretty damn helpless otherwise.
“Any time,” he said now. “You know that.”
“I do,” she said in barely a whisper. “I do know that.”
They were the last words spoken between them all the way to Seabrook Island.
Six
This was a mistake.
At a time when she should be taking in the view, enjoying a leisurely drive to a gorgeous ocean resort, Kara was a bundle of nerves, and all she could think was that agreeing to take off with Eli, even for business purposes, had been a terrible mistake.
How in the name of heaven was she supposed to get through the weekend with him, feeling as she did right now?
From the moment he’d dropped that bomb—you love me and you know it—her heart had kicked up like an electric power generator and had been chugging along at full speed.
She did love him, just as she’d admitted. But while she’d focused on their friendship, deep down she was afraid she wanted more than that. Not in some ethereal, childhood fantasy, dream lover way, but in a very solid, realistic, forever kind of way.
It couldn’t happen, of course. Despite the kiss they’d shared—which was likely the combined result of stress from a broken engagement, exhaustion from the late hour and too many scotches with dinner—Kara knew he didn’t really have those kinds of feelings for her.
He liked her well enough, felt warmly toward her because of their shared childhood and appreciated her support after Laurel had dumped him. But he didn’t want her-want her. Didn’t want to toss her on the bed, tear her clothes off and have his wicked way with her.
She shivered at the very thought, because that’s exactly what she’d like him to do.
Then she thought of her sister and felt her face flush with the sting of shame.
How could she even be considering such things about her sister’s former fiancé? How would Laurel feel if she knew Kara was lusting after Eli, and had since she was a teenager?
The most likely answer—that even if Laurel wasn’t ready to marry him herself didn’t mean she was willing to hand him over to her own baby sister on a silver platter—was the biggest reason this weekend was a huge mistake.
They were on Seabrook Island now, drawing closer and closer to his resort, and Kara didn’t have a clue what she was going to do once they arrived. Would she be able to tamp down her emotions and act as though nothing was wrong? As though they were nothing more than friends doing a bit of mutually beneficial business? Or would she spend the weekend walking on pins and needles, teetering on the ragged edge of a panic attack?
Crushed shells crunched beneath the Mercedes’s tires as they traversed the curving drive leading to the front of the seaside resort. She’d been to Ocean Breezes once before, for the grand opening and ribbon-cutting ceremony. She’d been so proud of Eli that day—as proud as he’d been of his new “baby.” Ocean Breezes wasn’t just a hotel, after all, which all of his other ventures had been up to that point, but a full-blown resort with everything a guest could possibly want in an island getaway.
A private beach, private golf course, on-site spa and in-room spa treatments. Exclusive shops and a high-end salon right on the premises. Restaurants to die for. And, of course, all the amenities for those once-in-a-lifetime special events she would be consulting on: weddings, anniversaries, bridal and engagement parties, even the occasional sweet sixteen celebration.
She couldn’t wait to experience the true luxury she knew stood beyond the front doors.
Eli pulled beneath the wide portico shading the main entrance, and a second later a valet was rounding the hood of the car to open her door for her. The young man was dressed in black slacks, white button-down shirt and a maroon vest with the Ocean Breezes logo emblazoned on the breast pocket. He greeted her with a wide smile, waiting for her to step out before moving again to Eli’s side of the car.
“Welcome back, Mr. Houghton. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”
“Thank you, Robert,” Eli returned, passing the boy his keys, along with a folded bill of what looked to be a high denomination as a tip.
At the same time, another Breezes employee removed their luggage from the trunk, placing it on a wheeled, brass-plated cart. When that was done, Eli tipped him, too.
“They all go to my private suites,” he told the other young man in a low voice. “And see that strawberries and a bottle of champagne are delivered there, as well. Thank you, Julio.”
Kara was more than impressed that he knew his staff by name. She wondered if that was true of all of his hotel and resort locations, considering how many he owned now and how many individuals he must retain at each.
As the car rolled away in one direction and their luggage in another, Eli came to her side, taking her arm and tucking it securely within his own. He began leading her through the glass doors and into the lobby, their heels clicking on the glistening marble floor.
“Strawberries and champagne?” she murmured, repeating what she’d overheard, but making it a question rather than a statement.
“To celebrate,” he said simply.
“Celebrate what?”
“The start of what I expect to be a very lucrative and successful partnership.”
“A thank-you note would have sufficed,” she told him flatly.
He chuckled, leaning over to press a quick kiss to her temple. “Don’t be silly, darlin’. A woman like you would never be impressed by something so mundane.”
“Are you trying to impress me?” she asked.
“Of course,” he replied without hesitation. “I always try to impress lovely ladies when I want something from them.”
Kara’s pulse leapt, her breath catching in her lungs for a brief second. They passed the reception area, Eli nodding to the two doe-eyed young women behind the registration desk, who were practically giggling behind their hands at their rich, attractive boss’s very presence, before leading her to the bank of elevators off to one side. He pressed the up arrow and the gleaming silver doors slid open.
She waited until they were inside the car, alone, and he’d used a special key card to unlock the button for his private level before clearing her throat and forcing herself to ask, “What do you want from me?”
The doors slid open once again. “For you to join me for strawberries and champagne,” he responded matter-of-factly, stepping out into the entry area of his private quarters.
Kara exited the elevator, but then stood nailed in place, taking in her opulent surroundings. She’d grown up with money, so she was no stranger to luxury. She’d also toured several of the guest rooms, suites and private bungalows on the premises during the grand opening.
But while those spaces were impressive even by luxury resort standards, Eli’s was a cut above that. It also didn’t look like a typical Ocean Breezes suite; it looked like a personal residence.
Hardwood floors instead of plush carpeting…sheer white curtains billowing with the breeze blowing in from the ocean instead of heavy, light-blocking drapes…a full, nearly gourmet kitchen instead of a kitchenette…and unique, personally chosen furniture instead of cookie-cutter pieces.
From what she could tell from a glimpse through the French doors on the opposite side of the large sitting area, he also had one of the most magnificent views in the entire resort. Possibly the entire island.
“Don’t be afraid,” he said from halfway across the room. “You can come in. I won’t bite.”
She moved away from the elevator, taking slow, deliberate steps as she continued to study the intricacies of the suite. Through a set of double doors off to one side of the living and dining area, she spotted an immaculately made-up king-size bed.
Their bags were stacked at its foot, which meant the bellhop must have really hustled to get in and out of the suite before they arrived. Pausing only a few feet from Eli, she kept her eyes locked on that luggage and the wide, wide mattress beyond.
“I never agreed to stay here with you,�
� she told him, still without peeking in his direction. “I thought I would have my own room.”
From the corner of her eye, she saw him shrug a single broad, tailored shoulder. “This will be better. Besides, you’re not just another resort guest, you’re my guest, and we’ll be working quite a bit this weekend. It will benefit us to be in close proximity.”
Being in close proximity to Eli was the problem. She was having trouble enough beating her runaway hormones into submission just standing three feet away in an otherwise spacious room.
How was she supposed to stop the images flitting through her brain and turning her insides to mush if they shared a living space for three days and two nights? It didn’t sound like much, but considering the fantasies she’d been entertaining ever since he’d murmured “I won’t bite,” three minutes and two seconds had become too long an amount of time to be alone with him.
“I’m not sure I’m comfortable with that,” she told him truthfully. Of course, she didn’t reveal the why of it.
He started toward her, and she finally turned to face him. As always when she saw him, a jolt of electricity skittered through her veins, sending shock waves to every extremity.
He was just so darned handsome. She was certain he knew it—the man did own a mirror, after all, and tended to have random women fawning over him day and night—but he never acted as though his model-perfect features and physique made any difference to him.
He didn’t act cocky or entitled. He didn’t use them to sway people to his advantage. He didn’t even—to her knowledge, at any rate—use them to seduce women into one-night stands.
Oh, she was sure he had affairs, and possibly even girlfriends, though she couldn’t remember him ever mentioning a serious relationship other than the one he’d had with Laurel. But while just about every red-blooded woman would be willing to throw herself at him before she even knew his name, Kara had never known him to take them up on their offers just for the sake of quick, sweaty sex.