by Opal Carew
In a voice that was only somewhat controlled, Sylvia said to Seth, “So that you’re up to speed on the current state of affairs, I’m opening a day spa in two weeks. He—” she lifted a hand and one manicured finger shot out in Noah’s direction—“is opening a hotel with a spa that will eat mine for breakfast.”
Noah sighed. “Now that’s not necessarily true. Sylvia, is it?”
“‘Miss Carter’ will be fine,” she said. And glared some more.
Noah resisted the urge to chuckle. This woman was a tempest, with a spirited personality to match her fiery hair.
“Miss Carter, then,” he magnanimously amended. “With all due respect, I honestly had no idea you were setting up shop when I was on my way to meet with Seth this morning. Why don’t you join us?” He pulled out a chair. “The waitress recommends the spiced latte for a little holiday cheer. Sounds right up your alley, no?”
Folding her arms over her enticing chest, completely closing herself off to him—he didn’t miss the body language—she said, “Thank you, no. I just wanted to take this opportunity to rip you a new one in front of all of these people. When a large corporation moves into a small community and swallows up the mom and pop shops, the polite thing to do, Mr. Donovan, is introduce yourself to the local merchants before you crush their dreams and snuff out their livelihood.”
“If you’ll just—”
“I need to get back now.” Her head snapped to his friend again. “Seth.”
“Sylvia.”
She whirled around on a tall heel and started to storm off.
Good God, for all that was sacred and sane, Noah should have just let her go. But Sylvia Carter was suddenly a living, breathing entity that blazed through his veins.
So he followed her, whipping off his leather jacket as he went. She reached the door and he shoved it open for her with one hand and thrust the jacket at her with the other.
She shot daggers at him.
With a tinge of exasperation, though mostly he was burning up with lust, Noah said, “I apologize for mishandling what could have been a congenial meet-and-greet.”
Her gaze narrowed on him.
“I saw you and I suddenly wasn’t thinking straight. You are breathtakingly beautiful.”
He didn’t think it was possible, but she glared harder.
Noah sighed. “Take my jacket, please. Be angry with me. Don’t catch pneumonia because of it.”
She snatched the garment and said, “I’ll give it to Seth to return to you. No need to stop into my spa again. Ever.”
She slipped into the jacket as she continued on her way, not needing an umbrella because the sidewalk was protected by the decorative yellow-and-white-striped awnings over each storefront. Noah watched her go, enjoying his view of her backside.
Until a server joined him at the opened door and cleared her throat. Noah tore his gaze from Sylvia and grinned at the employee. “She liked me before she hated me. I’m almost sure of it.” Then Noah stepped away and let the door close behind him.
He returned to his table, where Seth sat with raised brows.
Sliding into the plush eggplant-colored chair—the coffee shop was an elegantly appointed one, like every other business in Bayfront—Noah sipped his espresso, spared a glance over his shoulder in the direction of the saucy entrance and exit Sylvia Carter had made, and then shifted his attention back to his best friend. “Hell of a woman you’ve got there.”
“I only met her last night, at the party up at the lodge.”
“And instantly moved in for the kill, not that I blame you. So sorry I didn’t make it in time for the event. Flight delay from JFK.”
“Definitely something you missed out on. The festivities and Sylvia. It was difficult to resist her.”
“I can see that. She must be a wildcat in the sack.”
“I have the scratches to prove it,” Seth said with excitement in his eyes.
Noah sipped before asking, “So not a formal girlfriend?”
“She wouldn’t even stay overnight.”
“Damn.” He groaned. “Either you’re losing your touch, or she really enjoys putting men in their place.”
Seth took a drink of his coffee, then said, “Neither. Do I think she’s got some trust or intimacy issues? Yes. But I didn’t press. I want to see her again, not scare her off. And what just happened with the two of you—she does have a valid point.”
“I apologized.”
Seth regarded him shrewdly. “You’re usually much smoother than this. In business and with women. Even when they want to kick you in the balls for forgetting their birthday, you find some way to salvage the moment and get back in their good graces.”
“That’s because I genuinely respect what they have to offer. I just have way too many corporate matters going on inside my head to keep all the details of my romantic life straight.”
“So write them down.”
Noah chuckled. “Good idea. Anyway, about Sylvia Carter . . .” He speared his friend with an intent look. “Thoughts on her?”
“One, do more than apologize. There is no spa in Bayfront currently. She would have cornered the market. And with the magnitude of yours . . . yes, you will run her into the ground. So fix it.”
“How? Nix the spa from my plans? Not a chance.”
“I don’t know, Noah. But I like her. Apparently you do, too. So don’t be a tool. Figure something out.”
“And two . . . ?”
“You know what the two is. We’d both enjoy spending time with her. But you can’t get to the two until you’ve remedied the one. Start there.”
Noah polished off his espresso, shoved his chair back, and stood. “I hear you. We’ll talk later.”
He left the coffee shop and strode back down the sidewalk.
He might be a powerful, tunnel-vision hotel magnate and a far cry from the perfect boyfriend, which was why he never built up any expectations as such, but he wasn’t a complete asshole . . .
Chapter Five
Sylvia tossed Noah’s jacket onto the sofa and paced in front of the fireplace. Chloe was gone, likely to pick up her dry cleaning now that it was well after nine and the cleaners were open.
Pacing, however, did nothing to calm Sylvia’s frayed nerves. So she climbed the ladder and continued painting, hoping for a little OCD therapy.
A good five minutes passed and the bell sounded out front. She called to Chloe, “Hey, you’ll never believe who chew us up and spit us out guy is BFFs with.”
“What’s a BFF?”
Sylvia started at the rich, spine-tingling voice . . . that did not belong to Chloe. And she left another spot of dark paint on the pale ceiling.
“Jesus Christ. You are spoiling my day left and right, Noah Donovan. Above, too.” She gazed up at the second smear of sienna and sighed.
Noah came farther into the room and said, “I am not in Bayfront to chew you up and spit you out.”
“Well, you’re only giving me a year to sell all the inventory and equipment I’ve purchased so I suppose I see things in a different light than you.”
Crossing his arms over his wide chest—going on the defensive as much as she’d done earlier—he asked, “You really think you’ll go under?”
She countered with her own query. “You really think the wives, mistresses, girlfriends, and secretaries of billionaires will pop in for an emergency mani-pedi in between their regular spa days in the city when they can forego their regular spa days in the city entirely and simply drive down the coast to your hotel? And while my Jacuzzi will be surrounded by candles and sprinkled with rose petals, it won’t stand a prayer against the Covington Collection. The point of my day spa is a quick-fix. The ladies who lunch at the Bayfront Yacht Club or have just returned from champagne and charcuterie in River Cross or from power-shopping in our famed town square or who just need a little pick-me-up or a polish change before an evening out will find this much more convenient and more easily accessible than having to battle traffic all th
e way into San Francisco.”
“You really can take breaths between your rants. I’ll wait.”
Sylvia let out a hollow laugh. “I’m not ranting, Mr. Donovan. I’m stating facts. I’ve built an entire business plan based on conversations with Mitzy Talkington and many of her clients—all of whom said they frequented Mitzy’s day spa because they could get in and out in a reasonable timeframe, yet still feel refreshed and relaxed. With your spa just a hop, skip, and jump away, they can experience all the joys I wanted to bring them in a much more refined and opulent setting with more services than I can provide.”
Sylvia exhaled slowly. Took a deep breath.
True to his word, Noah waited patiently. Though his brow dipped and he really did seem to give serious consideration to what she was saying.
She continued. “Since I was sixteen years old, I’ve worked in the best spas on this side of the country. In Santa Fe, San Antonio, Palm Springs, Willamette Valley, Seattle, Scottsdale, and more. I started as an inventory stocker. Then became a certified massage therapist and aesthetician. Then a manager. I increased product sales by 68 percent in one year at the Mii amo Spa in Sedona, Arizona. It’s been rated the number two spa in the world. I know what I’m doing when it comes to giving women—and men—the pampering they expect from a top-notch spa. I just can’t afford to build one that’s twenty-five thousand square feet with thirty-five treatment rooms and two pools.”
Tears stung the backs of her eyes.
There was so much more at stake than she could ever explain to this man. The building she’d inherited meant everything to her. Because Cal Davidson had been a sweetheart of a client and had thought she was the perfect person for this endeavor.
More than that, though, him gifting her this building in the one town she’d fallen in love with above all others gave her the opportunity to finally sprout some roots. And even further beyond that . . . it offered her the chance to bring Chloe along for the ride. Her dearest friend, who needed roots and stability and a sense of safety even more than Sylvia did.
Chloe didn’t look over her shoulder when she was in Bayfront. She wasn’t afraid to leave her apartment at night to run to the store. She didn’t jump when the phone or the bell above the shop door rang.
This was all new and different for Chloe. And it broke Sylvia’s heart that they both might be back to square one with their transient existences. Because Sylvia had no idea what other business she’d run in this building. The spa business was all she knew.
“Look,” Noah said in an empathetic tone. “I know that you—”
“You don’t have to say anything more,” she told him. “You heard me out and I appreciate that. I understand that your bottom line is bigger and more important than mine, and let’s face facts. When presented with the option of your spa over mine, the people in this extremely affluent community will choose yours. I get that. And I don’t blame them, of course. Like I said, I’ve worked at some of the best spas. When one is right down the road, it’s going to be everyone’s location of choice.”
She started down the ladder.
He said, “Just let me—”
“Really. There’s no further argument to—oh!” Caught up in her inner turmoil, Sylvia didn’t remember the hand towel she’d left on one of the rungs and the slick sole of her boot hit it. She lost her balance.
And landed soundly in Noah Donovan’s strong arms as he lurched forward, presumably to clear the towel from her path.
Her pulse pounded as she said on a wisp of breath, “Good catch.”
“Kind of saw it coming.”
“And you didn’t let me fall flat on my ass?”
His jaw set for a moment. His tawny eyes turned a bit stormy. And his voice was tight as he said, “Contrary to what you think of me, Miss Carter, I’m not some ogre who wants to see a woman who loathes me fall flat on her ass—in any capacity. And yours happens to be a rather nice one.”
Sylvia gasped.
Though what had she expected, really? He was a bit in-your-face. And when it came to him, she supposed she was being the same because of all this sexual and emotional tension pulling much too tight inside her.
Her arms were wrapped around his neck for support. Her blood turned molten at his intense look, powerful build, quick reflexes. And all the other heart-stopping aspects of him.
She said, “I appreciate the chivalry. And you might as well call me Sylvia.”
He gave her that sexy, cocky grin that only lifted one corner of his mouth. “Noah.”
“You can put me down now.” She pulled in a long, slightly shaky breath. “Noah.”
He hesitated, his gaze locked with hers.
Making her nerve endings sizzle.
Eventually, he set her carefully on her feet. Her knees all but knocked together, so she reached out a hand to steady herself with fingers coiled around a rung. She would have preferred to use his hunky body for stability, but that’d be inviting even more trouble into her life.
She’d been lucky to make a clean escape from the addictive Seth Lofton.
Well, somewhat. Because thoughts of him still simmered in the back of her mind. So she definitely didn’t need to get caught up in his best friend Noah Donovan as well.
Who quietly asked, “Are you okay?”
“Sure. Bit startled is all.”
“I’m sorry I upset you.”
He looked earnest. Even a touch contrite. Surprising—along with his gallant side.
Sylvia wasn’t used to men being quite so gracious. Yes, Seth had been a perfect gentleman last night. Well, not exactly when they were between the sheets, but that was another story altogether. One that would send her internal temperature soaring if she let her mind wander to him pumping fast and furious into her until she screamed his name.
Instead, she thought of how Noah had come across as determined to get his way in business, no matter how it impacted anyone else. And then had listened to her. Really listened. And rescued her.
So maybe he wasn’t the evil corporate head hell-bent on devouring her.
But that didn’t change the fact that his spa would put hers out of business. However . . . she now sensed he felt bad about that.
Though he said, “I’m not giving up my plans for the hotel and spa because you’re opening your own doors. Perhaps there’s a compromise we can arrive at. Mutually beneficial. Or at least . . . satisfactory to you.”
She shook her head. “That’s not going to be possible, especially in a town like Bayfront where it’s all about the bigger, better deal. Also, you’ll want to compete with the reputations of the Ritz, Four Seasons, and Fairmont in San Francisco. Quite frankly, that is a sandbox far above and beyond any I can play in.”
“Sylvia.” He raked a hand through his strategically tousled dark hair, making it a little messier in a really sexy way.
As if she needed the additional stimulant.
He said, “There’s always a way to—”
“Hey, what’s this?” Chloe interjected.
Sylvia realized she’d been too engulfed in Noah’s darkly stirring looks and intensity, and the feel of having been in his arms, to hear Chloe’s entrance.
Stepping around Noah, who gave a low groan of frustration over the interruption—because they’d actually been getting along?—Sylvia said, “We’re just having a conversation. No worries.”
“Sure you don’t want me to call town square security?”
A smile tickled the corners of Sylvia’s mouth. “No, Chloe. That’s not necessary.” Her gaze slid to Noah. “At the moment.”
He snickered at her.
“Fine. Let me know if you change your mind. Oh, and I picked up your dresses at Flynn’s when I went for my blouses. I’ll hang them in your office.” Chloe glared at Noah’s back before continuing on her way.
A long breath blew between his parted lips. “She definitely hates me.”
“Yes. She does.”
His brow rose. “And you?”
“I hate what you represent,” she honestly told him.
“Understandable. Though, my hotel will bring with it a lot of high-paying job opportunities. Not everyone in the cove is a millionaire or billionaire with their own empire.”
Her stomach knotted. “Of course, you have a point. This was just such the perfect endeavor for me and Chloe.”
He spared a glance in the direction Chloe had disappeared, then said, “You’re protective of each other.”
“As much as possible. Since we were kids.”
“Then I’m sorry I’ve complicated matters for you both.” His cell phone buzzed and he bristled slightly. “I have to go. That will be my very efficient assistant reminding me of my ten-thirty meeting with the project management team.”
“Well . . . thanks again for at least hearing me out.”
“I enjoyed speaking with you, Sylvia.” He gazed at her a few seconds more, then pulled in a sharp breath before turning away and heading toward the door.
“Don’t forget your jacket.”
He grabbed it as he passed by the sofa. Raised the garment to his nose and said in a desire-roughened tone, “Had a feeling it was going to end up smelling like you.”
He continued on his way.
Sylvia just kept incinerating.
For the next week she was in the throes of assembling glass-and-metal display units and shelves in the foyer of the spa, where she’d offer the products used for treatments. She’d decided the best thing she could do was follow through with her grand opening and sell off her current inventory while casting a wide net via online sites for anyone interested in the equipment she’d bought. And also spread the word that her building would be up for sale once she’d recouped as much as she could from her operational investment.
Chloe looked a bit panicked, but Sylvia assured her friend they’d land somewhere else. They always did. With the money from the sale of the building, they could find another small town to set up shop in.
Chloe had frowned when Sylvia had pitched that angle to her. “But we love Bayfront.”
Yeah. That was the dilemma in a nutshell.
But it was nothing Sylvia could rectify at present. So she remained focused on her tasks.