by Aimee Duffy
She was almost right. Her opinion didn’t matter as much as any party planning skills he had, but he wasn’t sure about the venue and Alexa confirming his doubts made up his mind.
He sighed. ‘I agree with you, but I don’t see us being able to find anywhere else on short notice. I can’t host this at another hotel, especially since I’m in competition with most and I would prefer not to do it at Hotel Castillo.’
Her eyebrows rose. ‘Why not? It belongs to your family.’
Ric wasn’t willing to admit that he’d refused to live off their name all his life, instead he told her, ‘It’s the last option.’
Her gaze drifted to the view again. With the sun beaming on her face he could see the moisture shine on her forehead. ‘We’ll be leaving soon.’ He didn’t want to think too much about the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra, but wanted to reassure her that her discomfort wouldn’t last long.
She nodded. After last night’s meeting with Santos, he had been wary bringing Alexa to Mr Romero’s, but if he was going to contract the property for the ball she could get a good feel for the place. Now, she was a stark contrast from the woman he’d found in her underwear in his penthouse the day before and a part of him wanted her back. Sparring with Alexa made him feel lighter than he had in a long time. She had a young spirit, said what she meant when she thought it and didn’t back down from him.
‘Who owns that?’ She pointed at the ocean.
Ric’s gaze landed on the luxury yacht. ‘I don’t know. One of the residents, maybe.’
She turned to him, a smile spread across her face and her eyes glittered with excitement. ‘It shouldn’t be hard to find out. Imagine having your ball there. I bet people would be talking about it for a long time.’
Her words painted the picture in his mind before logic could rule it out. He grinned at her, unable to help himself. She bubbled with excitement and her eyes already sparkled with the possibilities. His breath caught and heat jolted south. Ric cleared his throat and frowned at his body’s reaction.
‘It would be difficult to find out who the owners are and persuade them to rent it to the cause in such short notice.’ Business. That’s why she was here. It would do him good to remember that.
Alexa’s face fell. She turned her head back to look at the boat. ‘You sound like a quitter.’
Ric bit back a laugh. ‘Not a quitter, just realistic.’
Alexa let out an hmph. He smiled at the back of her head. She was every bit the spoiled heiress. Maybe living in the real world for a month would teach her that what Alexa wanted, she couldn’t always get.
They arrived back at the hotel earlier than expected, and since Jenna had confiscated her phone just after midnight enforcing the ‘no work on holiday’ rule, Alexa asked Ric for the use of one of the offices. He’d led her to the room the event organiser had been using and suggested she take a look over the files Lydia had left.
She shifted uncomfortably in the leather seat. The linen blouse had stuck to her torso after a morning sweltering under the suit jacket. She swore today was the last time she’d put on the manky skirt and jacket combo. This afternoon she’d go shopping with the girls and find something less…yuck. Though it irritated her he’d told her how to dress, Ric was right. She needed something more respectable if she wanted to change the world’s perception.
It would take a lot more than an ugly pencil skirt to do the job.
The phone on the desk rang and she picked it up. ‘Hello?’
‘Good, you’re still there. Get me a coffee before you leave.’
The line went dead and she blinked at the receiver. How about he get his own bloody coffee!
Returning the phone to the cradle, she stifled a shriek. First blackmail, followed by a severe guilt trip and now this. It was time she had words with the pushy git. She’d agreed to help him organise the ball for the sake of her reputation, not to play skivvy to his demands.
She lifted the navy jacket from behind the chair and slipped it on. There was no way she could walk around wearing nothing but the white blouse. It was almost see-through and the fact she didn’t have a bra on was just embarrassing. Being caught in undies was daring, but flashing was mental.
After leaving the small room she made her way to Ric’s office and reached for the handle. His voice boomed out from behind his office door. He spoke in sharp, clipped Spanish. The stress was evident in his tone, even if she didn’t understand what he was saying. Sadness unfurled in her belly.
Why do you care if he’s stressed out? Get in there and tell him you’re not his slave.
Alexa knocked on his door, her resolve firmly in place. She pushed it open just as Ric returned his phone to the cradle. He muttered something in Spanish which Alexa thought sounded like a curse word. She’d been right about his stress levels. His suit jacket was strewn over a chair in front of his desk, and the top three buttons were undone on his white shirt, showing a flash of that rock hard chest. He ran his hand through his dark hair, making tufts stand on end. Her mouth watered.
‘I’m not your PA. Get your own coffee.’ She’d planned on saying more, but couldn’t get the words out.
He glared at her with hard eyes, then darted a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. ‘Fine.’ His accent was thick with agitation. ‘I need you here at eight o’clock tomorrow again. We have a meeting to attend.’
His attention went back to the papers scattered over his desk. It was a clear dismissal. Did he think she was going to let it drop? She sauntered over to his desk and propped her bottom against the dark wood at his side. He looked up at her, his expression tight and exasperated.
‘I’m on holiday.’
She heard him grind his teeth. ‘You also agreed to help me organise a ball. The mansion isn’t right, you said so yourself. We have to find somewhere else. I’ve managed to get an appointment with the owners of Madame Dior.’
‘Madame who?’ She blinked at him, wondering if he’d hired some burlesque club.
‘The yacht you suggested. They have agreed to meet us.’ A small smile curved his lips.
‘How did you manage that?’ Yesterday he’d said it was impossible.
‘I have my ways.’ His gaze fell to the contract on his desk and he cursed. ‘And now I have work to do.’
‘Aren’t you having a lunch break?’ The hollow ache in her stomach screamed for food, and she was smaller than him. Surely a man his size had to eat three meals a day.
‘I’m too busy for a break and it seems I’ll be going without coffee, too.’
She fought the tiniest hint of guilt creeping in, determined to start as she meant to go on.
‘All work and no breaks make Ric a dull boy.’ She grinned down at him, trying to lighten his mood.
The tension fixing his jaw didn’t ease. Damn.
‘Is there something else you want?’
Alexa looked at the papers. All were in Spanish, but she assumed they were contracts of some sort judging by the format. He had scored out blocks in red ink and added lots of text next to large paragraphs. No wonder he was stressed. He was a workaholic. What happened to the headline grabbing adrenaline-junkie who jumped out of planes and backpacked through Europe in the summer?
‘I want you to take a break. Then you can come back with a full belly and a clear head.’ She refused to back down. He was going to go prematurely grey at this rate.
‘Unfortunately, we can’t all slack off when the feeling takes us.’
Ignoring the jibe, she scooted along his desk so she towered above him in his chair. Going for stern, she frowned. ‘You need a break. You’re not a machine. I’m not taking no for an answer.’
Surprise flitted across his expression. She folded her arms, staring at him with a look that said it wasn’t up for discussion—a look her father used on her like it was going out of fashion.
Ric’s mood shifted. His jaw relaxed and something dark and feral heated his gaze. Alexa’s skin prickled with awareness and she felt less and less su
re about her decision to walk into his office and demand he take a break. She wished she’d just chewed him out and left.
Her heart beat so fast she could feel every one of her pulse points pounding. Her breathing sped when his gaze dipped down to her chest, covered by the navy jacket. He knew she was naked under her blouse and the thought ignited an inferno in her stomach that fired through her body. Suddenly, the temperature felt like it shot up to over one hundred degrees and the cool, creased linen suit felt like an electric blanket wrapped around her skin.
In a move too quick for her lust clogged brain to register, Ric was out of his chair and towering above her. He bent down and Alexa leaned back on her hands. Resting his palms on the desk at either side of her, he had her at his mercy.
Ric’s gaze slipped to her white blouse, which was now exposed as the jacket gaped open. She knew he’d see the outline of her nipples. Knew he’d see how hard they were. But that knowledge only made the excitement in her belly grow. Double damn.
‘Perhaps I do need a break.’ The rasp of his voice sent shivers through her body. ‘But it’s not lunch I want.’
When he looked at her again, she saw the hunger in his expression. It was raw and scary and sexy as hell.
She moistened her lips and focused her attention on his. So firm, so sure, she wondered if they could be soft or if they would be as hard and demanding as the rest of him. Her body flamed with need.
‘Alexa…’
The sound of the phone screeching brought her back to the there and then. Ric stepped back, giving her the air she so desperately needed. She straightened and he looked down at her with a scowl etching the hard lines of his face—like what had just happened was her bloody fault!
She stood and pushed away from the desk, thankful for the interruption. Another glance at the papers covering the mahogany showed exactly how much like her father Ric was, his days of having fun clearly forgotten. Robert Green ruined her mother, quashed her spirits and turned the last few years of her life into a prison sentence. There was no way Alexa would go down the same road.
Ric picked up the phone and muttered a sharp greeting. He pressed a button on the receiver then turned to her. ‘Stay out of my business, Alexa. You work with me, nothing more.’
She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be in your business at all from now on. And just because I’m helping you out doesn’t mean I’m your slave.’ She turned on her heel and stomped to the door, grinding her teeth against the dozens of insults waiting to burst free.
‘Tomorrow we will have words about this,’ he called.
She pulled the door shut behind her. He could say as many words as he liked, Alexa had a few choice ones of her own in mind.
Chapter Four
Ric exhaled in a sigh as he pushed through the swing doors of the hotel a little after midnight. His feet felt heavier than cement blocks. It had been a loathsome day. What started off tiresome had morphed into hell.
He glanced at his watch again. Definitely more than a little. While he stalked across the marble floor toward reception he inwardly cursed his party planner for leaving him and the builders for their lack of co-operation. If Lydia had stayed, he wouldn’t be strung tight with the undeniable sexual tension that close proximity to Alexa caused. If the builders did what Maria and Antonio paid them to do, they would have arranged for the water and waste company to inspect the development to check the newly laid pipes before switching the water on—the latter he didn’t think was an unreasonable request.
Two days later and he was called over in the middle of the night because part of the development had flooded. The idiots had cracked a pipe when they’d worked on the lower level and now it was flooded under a foot of water. His hands balled into fists as anger clawed its way through his veins, red hot and scorching. It felt like the icing on the cake of a torturous day. There was no way in hell Maria and Antonio would let him buy into the resort now.
He nodded to the night porter who promptly disappeared to the back room to make him coffee. Frederick knew how foul his mood was since he’d been the one to wake Ric earlier. He pulled out his phone to call his site manager to see how the clean-up was going. As he scrolled down to the number, the front doors opened, followed by a gaggle of giggling and whispers which were loud enough to wake the dead.
His gaze flew to the trio and zeroed in on the shortest, yet most eye catching of them all. In ridiculously high heels and what Ric could only describe as a red mini-dress, Alexa hobbled through the entrance, her hand pressed against the wall for support. Ric’s anger boiled over and he rose, left the reception and stalked back across the lobby. His feet didn’t feel so heavy now with adrenaline pumping through him.
‘My feet are dying,’ Alexa complained.
The woman in question bent over so her head was almost in-line with her knees, unknowingly exhibiting a red silk clad rear. Alexa swayed and he picked up pace. He had visions of her tumbling onto the hard floor and knocking herself unconscious—or worse—breaking her neck.
He grabbed her narrow waist and hauled her up. Alexa squeaked then turned her head. Her eyes, too clear for someone intoxicated, grew wide. ‘Ric.’
The other two quit giggling and gaped at him, but he didn’t release Alexa. ‘Glad to see you’re not too far gone that you forgot my name, querida.’
Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she pulled her scarlet lips into a pout. The lust flared as he remembered how close he’d been to her in his office, how her rosy nipples had shown through the thin linen blouse, how moist and delicious her lips looked…
Releasing her, he took a step back and scowled. ‘I think now is the perfect time to have that chat.’ He turned to her friends who looked like naughty schoolgirls who’d just been caught doing something taboo. One of them was even trying to hide an open bottle of champagne behind her back. Ric almost smiled. ‘I’ll make sure Alexa gets to her suite safely.’
With a worried look at Alexa, they both backed away and disappeared around the corner where the main elevator was situated. He turned back to her. She frowned at him, one hand on her hip, the other placed flat out on the wall to support her. Her black nail polish contrasted with the white walls.
‘How dare you embarrass me like that!’ Those grey eyes muddied, but he was sure he could see irritation bubbling beneath.
Well, she hadn’t seen irritated yet. ‘We have a meeting early tomorrow. Do you think the owners will want to lease out a yacht to someone who smells like stale alcohol?’
Her eyes burned. ‘I’m on holiday, Ric, what did you expect?’
Ric’s anger boiled his blood. He wanted to tell her to act like an adult, but this was Alexa and he was beginning to learn she did what she pleased. He had to find another way if it killed him.
Alexa met his gaze, a cheeky smirk quirking her lips. ‘Are we done?’
His blood hit scorching. ‘No, we are far from done.’ If he could just figure out how to tame the wild heiress…Ric gritted his teeth.
‘If you’re getting ready to haul me over the coals, we better sit down. My feet died two minutes ago and I swear I’m going to collapse any second.’
He glowered down at the skyscraper heels. What the hell had she been thinking wearing those for any length of time? The silver spike was at least six inches.
‘Fine, my office.’ He turned and took a step away.
‘Castillo, what part of my feet are dead didn’t you understand? I can’t walk!’
Agitation twisted in his stomach, but he turned back to her and there it was again. The expression that questioned his sanity. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes then counted to ten. When he opened them, he felt calmer, but Alexa had bent over again. Her backcombed bob upturned and her bottom up in the air like a perfectly rounded peach. Swallowing against the lump in his throat, he asked, ‘What are you doing?’
‘Extracting the Jimmy Choos in the hope of resuscitating my poor feet.’
‘For the l
ove of—’
‘Gimme a minute.’
He watched as she reached for the strap at the side, fumbling from her upside-down angle. Irritation and impatience warred with the swelling heat in his groin. She still struggled with the strap when his patience expired.
Reaching down, he hauled her up by her shoulders.
‘What are you doing?’ Ric ignored her glare and pulled her off her feet. ‘Put. Me. Down.’
Her breathless reply made him far too aware that every curve of hers was pressed against him. Ric prayed the blood pulsing in his groin would slow before he embarrassed himself. Taking off in the direction of his office, he tried to remember the state of his development drenched by a foot of muddy water and held on to his sour mood as best he could with Alexa wriggling against him.
When he reached the elevator, she looked up at him, her eyes shone with fury. ‘You know in Britain this could be construed as sexual harassment in the workplace.’
‘It’s lucky we’re not in Britain, and that I’m not interested in you sexually,’ he lied.
His body pulsed to life when she was around. Whether it was anger, exasperation or a draining-the-head-of-blood feeling, he always felt something. And earlier in his office—when he’d lost his mind under the pressure of the negotiations for the new design and build contract—he’d been lost in the temptation of her. Ric thanked god for another interruption, because getting involved with Alexa would lose him the respect he’d worked hard for years to achieve.
‘Really?’ she asked as she leaned back against the elevator. ‘So today when you almost pawed me in your office – that was all in my imagination, was it?’ Her arms folded across her chest like she dared him to deny it.
Ric dared. ‘I was under pressure and you didn’t help by adding to it. What happened in my office will never happen again.’ He made sure his face was as serious as he was. ‘I don’t have time to date any more, and I certainly don’t have liaisons with people like you. Forget this afternoon. I have.’
‘People like me?’ Perfectly curved brows rose over wide eyes.