She thought about detouring to visit him, but decided it was best to keep up with her routine and give the man a little breathing room. Even if Gene Malloy and his expertise as a kisser was very much on Sloane’s mind. Along with, she suspected, his strong skills in the bedroom.
In the afternoon, Sloane met with a rental agent to look at a Wailea condominium, her second one of the day. It was a one-bedroom, fully furnished, air-conditioned unit on the sixth floor in a gated community. The condo was on the beach and walking distance from the Island Shores Resort. All in all, it seemed like the perfect place for Sloane.
“The condo was recently renovated,” the rental agent, Betty, told Sloane as they toured it. “The rent includes free cable TV and high-speed internet.”
“Those are definite plusses,” Sloane said, though she rarely had time to watch TV. Being able to work from home online seamlessly was certainly a good thing.
“Most of our renters agree with you there.” Betty opened the vertical blinds in the small living room. “All your utilities are also included in the rent, along with a state-of-the-art security system. It’s doubtful you’ll ever need the latter, as this is a very safe area.”
Sloane smiled. “It’s sounding better all the time.” She took in the furnishings, which were casual and neatly arranged, blending in well with the lighter shade of gray walls. There was a ceiling fan overhead.
Betty turned on the kitchen light. “Everything you need to produce some authentic Hawaiian dishes is at your disposal.”
“I can see that.” Sloane glanced at the new stainless-steel appliances and granite countertops. She imagined cooking Gene a scrumptious meal, even if it would take a while to get the Hawaiian cuisine down pat.
They went to the bedroom. It was small, but large enough for a single woman to get around in comfortably. Sloane liked the rustic log furniture, including an Adirondack bed, bamboo grommet panels and valence window treatment, along with a ceiling fan.
Sloane was shown the beautifully manicured grounds and flower garden on the premises before they went back inside.
“So what do you think?” Betty asked anxiously.
“I love it,” declared Sloane, more than ready to have a place—this one—of her own.
The rental agent beamed. “Then let’s get you into this unit and it’s yours to enjoy.”
“Sounds like a great idea!”
Sloane filled out the necessary paperwork, knowing that her references were impeccable and a nice-paying job ensured that she could afford the luxury condo. Someday she wanted something with a greater sense of permanence and attachment to hang her hat. But for now, this was more than enough to make her feel right at home in Maui.
The phone was ringing off the hook this morning with calls coming in from as far away as Australia and as near as Oahu. Gene was glad that Dayna was on hand today to handle most of them. He was aware that in many instances callers were merely inquiring and comparison shopping. Some opted for the traditional hotel, while others sought something farther away from the water or less cozy. Gene was cool with that. He understood it was a competitive environment and only wanted to get his fair share of business while continuing to attract new guests and repeat visitors.
Standing in his private suite, Gene looked at his cell phone, hoping Sloane might call. There was no message. She had promised to ring him soon for their next get-together. But maybe the following day was too soon for her, if not him. He had a mind to call her and tell her he was thinking about her, especially that kiss that had rocked his foundation and left him wanting her in the worst way.
Maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. He didn’t want to crowd the beautiful lady, scaring her off. While the thought of Sloane caused Gene’s stomach to tie up in knots, he had to respect that she had other things on her mind right now than him. Whether or not he would ever move to the top of the list remained to be seen.
When his cell phone rang, Gene’s heart skipped a beat. He saw that the caller was Walter Griffin, his best friend from Detroit.
“What’s up, man?” Walter asked routinely.
“I’m good.” Gene stepped by the window, which gave him a bird’s-eye view of the sea and sand. “How are you?”
“Same old, same old. The job brings in a paycheck and the wife is still keeping me up late into the night.”
Gene smiled. Walter was a law professor and his wife, Talia, a high school teacher. They had been married for nearly ten years and neither seemed to be able to get enough of the other.
“The job aside, lucky you, Talia keeps the fires burning,” Gene told him enviously, and couldn’t help but consider Sloane keeping him up making love into the wee hours of the morning.
“Oh, yes, on fire all the time,” Walter said with a chuckle. “And have you landed one of those Hawaii mermaids yet?”
“Not exactly,” Gene responded thoughtfully. “But I’m working on it.”
“Cool. No reason to go it alone.”
“I know. That won’t be the case forever. Right now the B&B keeps me going.”
Walter paused. “I run into Lynda every now and then.”
“Good for you,” Gene muttered with regard to his ex-wife.
“She’s been seeing a local city councilman.”
“I’m happy for her.”
“Really?”
“Why not?” Gene said defensively. “We’ve been divorced for two years. What she does with her life now is her own business.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Walter said. “Anyway, the main reason I’m calling, other than to catch up, is that Talia’s been bugging me to take her to Hawaii ever since, well, you decided to go into business there. So I’ve finally given in and thought maybe we should take a week in Maui to celebrate our anniversary.”
“That’s sounds fabulous. What a way to celebrate the occasion.”
“Of course, we’d want to stay at your bed-and-breakfast.”
“You are more than welcome,” Gene told him, making a mental note to keep a room open. “It would be great to see Talia again, too.”
“I was hoping you’d be open to it.” Walter took a breath. “I didn’t want things to be awkward with Lynda out of the picture.”
“They won’t be,” Gene assured him. “I’ve moved on since then.” If he played his cards right, Sloane just might command all of his attention in the romance-and-passion department.
“All right. I’ll let Talia know that her dream is about to come true. Who knows, maybe we’ll even renew our vows while we’re out there.”
“What a wonderful idea. I’ll be happy to help set that up for you.”
After the call, Gene got back to playing host for his current guests, even if his mind was still very much on Sloane and the sexual chemistry between them that was so red-hot he knew it was only a matter of time before it exploded into some dynamic sex.
Kendra was the first person Sloane told about her new condo, sharing the news over lunch that afternoon.
“Sounds like you found the perfect place,” Kendra said.
“I think so, for the time being.” Sloane forked some of her Caesar salad. “At least I won’t have to live out of a hotel room, albeit a very nice one.”
“I’m jealous already,” Kendra teased. “The only ocean view in my house is a picture hanging in my living room.”
Sloane laughed. “You can come by whenever you like and see the ocean or whatever,” she offered, hoping she wouldn’t abuse the privilege.
“How sweet. I’ll keep that in mind.” Kendra dabbed a napkin to her lips. “I suppose now that you’ve got your own place, things will really heat up between you and Gene.”
“Maybe,” Sloane said, as she could hardly think of anything else. “First, I’d like to invite him over for dinner and see where things go from there.”
“Well, you know what they say about food being the key to a man’s heart and all that.”
“I’m not exactly reaching out for his heart,” Sloane said with a playful grin.
“At the moment, I’m much more interested in other parts of his anatomy.”
Kendra chuckled. “You’re so bad.”
Sloane colored. “Just being honest. Neither of us is looking for love so much as lust and friendship. It’s easier that way, and no one gets hurt.”
“In my experience there’s a fine line between love, lust and friendship.”
“It’s a line I’d rather not cross while I get where I want to with my career,” Sloane told her.
“Do you think you can really differentiate your feelings so easily?”
“Why not? I have so far.” Sloane had to admit that she had never before met anyone like Gene, whose powerful, manly presence and damned good looks made her at least have second thoughts about her long-held rules. In the end, she wanted to remain steadfast, so neither of them ended up regretting whatever they seemed on the verge of starting.
“Hope it works out the way you want,” Kendra said.
“Me, too.” Sloane lifted her glass. “First things first. I’ll see if Gene is agreeable to dinner and whatever else may end up on the menu.”
At 8:00 p.m., after spending hours getting situated in her new home, Sloane called Gene. She was uncharacteristically nervous as his phone rang, as if he had given her any reason to be. She sucked in a deep breath, hoping she wouldn’t have to leave a message, preferring to actually talk to him.
“Hello, there,” Gene answered, his smooth voice deep and sexy.
Sloane folded her legs beneath her in the chair. “Hi. Are you busy?”
“Not really. Just hanging around the house socializing with my guests, sometimes playing babysitter, other times referee.”
“Does it ever get old, not being able to separate your personal and professional life?” Sloane asked curiously as she wondered if she could do the same.
“Actually, it’s just the opposite,” he claimed. “Running a bed-and-breakfast, each day brings about new adventures and sometimes challenges, with a constant changeover of guests. Everyone has a story and they’re only too happy to share it with the others. It’s almost like being at summer camp where the campers are essentially one big happy family.”
“I never went to camp,” Sloane admitted, but almost wished she had. Especially if he’d been one of the campers. “But I see your point.”
“Thought you would.” Gene paused. “So how did your house search go?”
“Better than expected. I found a nice beachfront condo.”
“Great! Congratulations.”
“Thanks.” Sloane stilled her nerves. “If you’re not busy, I’d like to invite you over for dinner tomorrow night.”
Gene didn’t hesitate. “I’d love to have dinner with you at your new place…on one condition.”
“Which is?”
“You let me bring the wine.”
She brightened. “You’re on.”
“Then it’s a date,” Gene said sweetly.
“How does seven-thirty sound?”
“Like music to my ears. I’ll be there.”
“Wonderful,” Sloane told him. “Hope you still like good old-fashioned continental U.S. dishes?”
“Of course,” he assured her. “Feel free to make whatever you’re good at and I’ll be only too happy to eat it.”
Sloan laughed. “Sounds like a can’t-lose proposition.”
“Maybe because that’s what it is,” Gene spoke confidently. “We’re both on the winning team here. All we need to do is play the game.”
“I see.”
Sloane thought the metaphors were cute. Were they really embarking on a game—perhaps of truth or dare? Or engaging in something with much more substance? She gave him her address, which was only a few blocks away from his bed-and-breakfast. Sloane could imagine that with the short distance, they could easily go back and forth if this were the direction their burgeoning friendship was headed.
Ever since talking to Sloane on the phone, Gene had been looking forward to going to her new condo for dinner. It was a great way to get to know each other better in a more intimate setting than a luau, hotel café, or even a bed-and-breakfast with people steadily coming and going and private time a luxury. He was convinced that the electricity generated from their kisses deserved to be explored in depth. Gene strongly suspected that Sloane felt the same way, even if she wasn’t looking for marriage or even a long-term commitment. He was more than willing to let things play out and go from there.
Wanting to make a good impression, he decided to go dressier than his normal casual attire, wearing a tan sport coat over a designer black T-shirt and light brown twill slacks. He replaced his usual slip-ons or exercise shoes with leather loafers and sprayed on his favorite cologne.
Gene was a few minutes early as he rang the bell. He hoped Sloane didn’t have a problem with that. Maybe he could even give her a hand with the food.
When the door opened, Gene was floored by the exquisite vision before him. Sloane was wearing a satin halter tiered black dress with a generous amount of cleavage showing and black sandals. Her hair was appealingly loose and hung evenly across her shoulders.
It took Gene a moment to get his mouth to speak. “Hey,” he managed.
“Well, hello,” she said, flashing white teeth through alluring lips. “Welcome to my new home.”
“Thanks for inviting me.” He scanned her body, then settled on Sloane’s lovely face. “You look beautiful tonight.”
“Why, thank you.” She beamed. “You’re looking pretty spiffy yourself.”
Gene’s cheeks dimpled. “I didn’t want to underdress.”
“You didn’t. Please come in.”
He stepped into the foyer and immediately got a sense of warmth and belonging. The place was small by the standards of his bed-and-breakfast, but neat and organized, as well as a great location.
“I brought this.” Gene handed Sloane the bottle. “It’s a pineapple-and-passion-fruit white wine straight from the Maui Winery at Ulupalakua Ranch.”
“Hmm, sounds tasty,” said Sloane. “Can’t wait to try it out.”
“Do you need help with anything?”
She met his eyes. “You can pour the wine if you like.”
“It would be my pleasure to do so,” he told her.
They went to the kitchen, where Gene’s nostrils picked up more heavily the scent of food. It made his stomach growl, but not half as much as the way Sloane turned him on in that sexy dress.
“The wine goblets are in that cabinet,” Sloane pointed above the dishwasher. “I’m still trying to learn my way around here and what came with the place.”
“Perfectly understandable.” Gene found the goblets. He put them on the counter and opened the wine. “Even after four years, I’m still sometimes totally in the dark at the B&B when it comes to where some things are stored.”
Sloane looked at him as she stood over the stove. “I guess it helps keep you on your toes.”
“Yeah, I suppose.” He poured wine into one of the glasses and walked over to her. “Try it and tell me what you think.”
She put the glass to her mouth and sipped. “Um, very tasty.”
Gene smiled contentedly. “I think so, too. It’s certainly quite different from the norm.”
“I agree.” The tip of Sloane’s tongue slipped out onto her lower lip.
“So what’s for dinner?” Gene glanced over her shoulder. He could see that there was chicken gravy in one pot and what looked like greens in another. And whatever she had in the oven smelled delicious.
“Oh, just a little something I’ve put together,” she stated mysteriously. “Hope you like.”
He looked at her with an admiring gaze. “Yes, I like very much.”
Sloane flushed. “Other than me.”
“From where I stand,” Gene said ardently, “there is no one other than you.”
Sloane tried not to be swept under by Gene’s steady and decidedly provocative gaze, persuasive charms and handsome features. At least not till they finis
hed the meal she had spent two hours preparing. It consisted of baked lemon chicken, mashed sweet potatoes, mustard greens, biscuits and old-fashioned gravy she’d learned how to make from her mother.
After everything was set on the dining room table, Sloane joined Gene there. She wanted very much to kiss him again and be kissed by him the way he’d kissed her the other night. She chose patience and the near certainty that the strong sexual pull between them would manifest itself soon enough.
“This looks delicious,” remarked Gene, scooping up mashed sweet potatoes.
“Wait until you taste before telling me what you think,” Sloane told him, though fairly confident she had hit the right notes on the meal.
“Fair enough.” He sampled a bit of everything and then broke into a grin. “Everything is great. I’d say you’ve sold me on your ability to cook.”
She produced a generous smile while wondering what else she could sell him. “I wanted the first meal cooked in my condo to be special.”
“It is, and so is the cook.”
“My ego just might explode if you keep that up.”
Gene chuckled. “What—can’t a man tell a woman what he thinks of her?”
“As often as you like,” she answered playfully. “As long as I’m free to dish out compliments in return.”
“You’ve got my permission,” he said, grabbing a biscuit. “But maybe you’d better hold off on that till you taste one of my meals. Or see how else I might earn those accolades….”
Sloane felt a tingle between her legs as she considered his earning such accolades in bed. Would she ever be able to keep up with him? She ate some of the food, though her appetite had swung in the direction of sexual satisfaction.
“If you say so,” she spoke, turned on by the insinuation.
Pleasure in Hawaii (Kimani Romance) Page 5