by Tracy Wolff
Why did her hormones and need for his touch override common sense? Letting Will kiss her again was a bad, bad idea. But she couldn’t stop herself and she’d nearly arched her body into his just as he stepped back. The heat in his eyes did nothing to suppress the tremors racing through her, but he was easing backward toward the closed door.
“You’re leaving?” she asked. “What is this, Will? A game? Corner the staff and see how far she’ll let me take things?”
He froze. “This isn’t a game, Cat. I’m aching for you, to strip you down and show you exactly what I want. But I need you to literally hurt for wanting me and I want you to be ready. Because the second I think we’re on the same level, you’re mine.”
And with that, he turned and walked out, leaving the door open.
Catalina released a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. How dare he disrupt her work and get her all hot and bothered? Did he truly think she’d run to him begging to whisk her off to bed?
As much as her body craved his touch, she wouldn’t fall into his bed simply because he turned on the sex appeal. If he wanted her, then that was his problem.
Unfortunately, he’d just made his wants her problem as well because now she couldn’t think of anything else but how amazing he felt pressed against her.
Catalina cursed herself as she gathered the dirty towels. If he was set on playing games, he’d chosen the wrong opponent.
Four
Catalina lived for her weekends. Two full days for her to devote to her true love of designing and sewing. There was nothing like creating your own masterpieces from scratch. Her thick portfolio binder overflowed with ideas from the past four years. She’d sketched designs for every season, some sexy, some conservative, but everything was timeless and classy in her opinion.
She supposed something more than just heartache and angst had come from Will’s exiting her life so harshly. She’d woken up, finally figured out what she truly wanted and opted to put herself, her dreams as top priority. And once she started achieving her career goals, she’d work on her personal dreams of a family. All of those were things she couldn’t find in Alma. This place had nothing for her anymore other than her mother, who worked for another family. But her mother had already said she’d follow Catalina wherever she decided to go.
Glancing around, Catalina couldn’t remember where she put that lacy fabric she’d picked up in town a few weeks ago. She’d seen it on the clearance table and had nothing in mind for it at the time, but she couldn’t pass up the bargain.
Now she knew exactly what she’d use the material for. She had the perfect wrap-style dress in mind. Something light and comfortable, yet sexy and alluring with a lace overlay. The time would come when Catalina would be able to wear things like that every single day. She could ditch her drab black button-down shirt and plain black pants. When she dressed for work every morning, she always felt she was preparing for a funeral.
And those shoes? She couldn’t wait to burn those hideous things.
Catalina moved around the edge of the small sofa and thumbed through the stack of folded materials on the makeshift shelving against the wall. She’d transformed this spare room into her sewing room just last year and since then she’d spent nearly all of her spare time in the cramped space. One day, though... One day she’d have a glorious sewing room with all the top-notch equipment and she would bask in the happiness of her creations.
As she scanned the colorful materials folded neatly on the shelves, her cell rang. Catalina glanced at the arm of the sofa where her phone lay. Her mother’s name lit up the screen.
Lunging across the mess of fabrics on the cushions, Catalina grabbed her phone and came back to her feet as she answered.
“Hey, Mum.”
“Sweetheart. I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier. I went out to breakfast with a friend.”
Catalina stepped from her bedroom and into the cozy living area. “No problem. I’ve been sewing all morning and lost track of time.”
“New designs?” her mother asked.
“Of course.” Catalina sank down onto her cushy sofa and curled her feet beneath her. “I actually have a new summery beach theme I’m working on. Trying to stay tropical and classy at the same time has proven to be more challenging than I thought.”
“Well, I know you can do it,” her mother said. “I wore that navy-and-gray-print skirt you made for me to breakfast this morning and my friend absolutely loved it. I was so proud to be wearing your design, darling.”
Catalina sat up straighter. “You didn’t tell her—”
“I did not,” her mother confirmed. “But I may have said it was from a new up-and-coming designer. I couldn’t help it, honey. I’m just so proud of you and I know you’ll take the fashion world by storm once you leave Alma.”
Just the thought of venturing out on her own, taking her secret designs and her life dream and putting herself out there had a smile spreading across her face as nerves danced in her belly. The thought of someone looking over her designs with a critical eye nearly crippled her, but she wouldn’t be wielding toilet wands for the rest of her life.
“I really think I’ll be ready in a couple of months,” Catalina stated, crossing back to survey her inventory on the shelves. “Saying a timeframe out loud makes this seem so real.”
Her mother laughed. “This is your dream, baby girl. You go after it and I’ll support you all the way. You know I want you out from under the Rowlings’ thumb.”
Catalina swallowed as she zeroed in on the lace and pulled it from the pile. “I know. Don’t dwell on that, though. I’m closer to leaving every day.”
“Not soon enough for me,” her mother muttered.
Catalina knew her mother hated Patrick Rowling. Their affair years ago was still a secret and the only reason Catalina knew was because when she’d been dumped by Will and was sobbing like an adolescent schoolgirl, her mother had confessed. Maria Iberra was a proud woman and Catalina knew it had taken courage to disclose the affair, but Maria was dead set on her daughter truly understanding that the Rowling men were only after one thing and they were ruthless heartbreakers. Feelings didn’t exist for those men, save for James, who seemed to be truly in love and determined to make Bella happy.
But Patrick was ruthless in everything and Will had followed suit. So why was he still pursuing her? She just wanted a straight answer. If he just wanted sex, she’d almost wish he’d just come out and say it. She’d take honesty over adult games any day.
Before she could respond to her mother, Catalina’s doorbell rang. “Mum, I’ll call you back. Someone is at my door.”
She disconnected the call and pocketed her cell in her smock pocket. She’d taken to wearing a smock around her waist to keep pins, thread, tiny scissors and random sewing items easily accessible. Peeking through the peephole, Catalina only saw a vibrant display of flowers.
Flicking the deadbolt, she eased the door open slightly. “Yes?”
“Catalina Iberra?”
“That’s me.”
The young boy held onto the crystal vase with two hands and extended it toward her. “Delivery for you.”
Opening the door fully, she took the bouquet and soon realized why this boy had two hands on it. This thing was massive and heavy.
“Hold on,” she called around the obscene arrangement. “Let me give you a tip.”
“Thank you, ma’am, but that was already taken care of. You have a nice day.”
Catalina stepped back into her apartment, kicked the door shut with her foot and crossed the space to put the vase on her coffee table. She stood back and checked out various shades and types of flowers. Every color seemed to be represented in the beautiful arrangement. Catalina couldn’t even imagine what this cost. The vase alone, made of thick, etched glass, appeared to be rather precious.
A white envelope hung from a perfectly tied ribbon around the top of the vase. She tugged on the ribbon until it fell free and then slid the small envelope off. Pulling the card out and reading it, her heart literally leapt up into her throat. Think of me. W.
Catalina stared at the card, and then back at the flowers. Suddenly they weren’t as pretty as they’d been two minutes ago. Did he seriously think she’d fall for something as cliché as flowers? Please. And that arrogant message on the card was utterly ridiculous.
Think of him? Lately she’d done little else, but she’d certainly never tell him that. What an ego he’d grown since they were last together. And she thought it had been inflated then.
But because no one was around to see her, she bent down and buried her face in the fresh lilacs. They smelled so wonderful and in two days they would still look amazing.
A smile spread across her face as her plan took shape. Will had no idea who he was up against if he thought an expensive floral arrangement was going to get her to drop her panties or common sense.
As much as she was confused and a bit hurt by his newfound interest in her now that he wasn’t involved with Bella, she had to admit, toying with him was going to be fun. Only one person could win this battle...she just prayed her strength held out and she didn’t go down in the first round.
* * *
Will slid his cell back into his pocket and leaned against the window seat in his father’s office at his Playa del Onda home. “We’ve got them.”
Patrick blinked once, twice, and then a wide smile spread across his face. “I didn’t think you could do it.”
Will shrugged. “I didn’t have a doubt.”
“I’ve been trying to sign with the Cherringtons for over a year.” Patrick shook his head and pushed off the top of his desk to come to his feet. “You’re really making a mark here, Will. I wondered how things would fair after Bella, but business is definitely your area of expertise.”
Will didn’t tell his father that Mrs. Cherrington had tried to make a pass at Will at a charity event a few months back. Blackmail in business was sometimes not a bad thing. It seemed that Mrs. Cherrington would do anything to keep her husband from learning she’d had too much to drink and gotten a little frisky. She apparently went so far as to talk him into doing business with the Rowlings, but considering both families would prosper, Will would keep her little secret.
In Will’s defense, he didn’t let her advances go far. Even if she weren’t old enough to be his mother and if she hadn’t smelled as if she bathed in a distillery, she was married. He may not want any part of marriage for himself, but that didn’t mean he was going to home in on anybody else’s, either.
Before he could say anything further, Cat appeared in the doorway with an enormous bouquet. The arrangement reminded him of the gift he’d sent her. He’d wondered all weekend what she’d thought of the arrangement. Had she smiled? Had she thought about calling him?
He’d end this meeting with his father and make sure to track her down before he headed back to the Rowling Energy offices for an afternoon meeting. He had an ache that wasn’t going away anytime soon and he was starting to schedule his work around opportunities to see Cat. His control and priorities were becoming skewed.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” she stated, not glancing Will’s way even for a second. “I thought I’d freshen up your office.”
Patrick glanced down at some papers on his desk and motioned her in without a word. Will kept his eyes on Cat, on her petite, curvy frame tucked so neatly into her black button-down shirt and hip-hugging dress pants. His hands ached to run over her, sans clothing.
She was sporting quite a smirk, though. She was up to something, which only put him on full alert.
“I don’t always keep flowers in here, but I thought this bouquet was lovely.” She set it on the accent table nestled between two leather wingback chairs against the far wall. “I received these the other day and they just did a number on my allergies. I thought about trashing them, but then realized that you may want something fresh for your office, Mr. Rowling.”
Will stood straight up. She’d received those the other day? She’d brought his bouquet into his father’s office and was giving it away?
Apparently his little Cat had gotten feisty.
“I didn’t realize you had allergies,” Will stated, drawing her attention to him.
She tucked her short black hair behind her ears and smiled. “And why should you?” she countered with a bit more sass than he was used to from her. “I’ll leave you two to talk.”
As she breezed out just as quickly as she’d come, Will looked at his father, who was staring right back at him with a narrowed gaze. Why did Will feel as if he’d been caught doing something wrong?
“Keep your hands off my staff,” his father warned. “You already tried that once. I hesitated keeping her on, but James swore she was the best worker he’d ever had. Her mother had been a hard worker, too, so don’t make me regret that decision.”
No way in hell was he letting his father, or anybody else for that matter, dictate what he could and couldn’t do with Cat. Listening to his father’s instructions about his personal life was what got Will into this mess in the first place.
“Once we’ve officially signed with the Cherringtons, I’ll be sure to send them a nice vintage wine with a personalized note.”
Patrick came to his feet, rested his hands on his desk and leaned forward. “You’re changing the subject.”
“The subject of your staff or my personal life has no relevance in this meeting,” Will countered. “I’ll be sure to keep you updated if anything changes, but my assistant should have all the proper paperwork emailed by the end of the day.”
Will started to head out the door, but turned to glance over his shoulder. “Oh, and the next time Cat talks to you, I suggest you are polite in return and at least look her in the eye.”
Leaving his father with his mouth wide open, Will turned and left the office. Perhaps he shouldn’t have added that last bit, but Will wasn’t going to stand by and watch his father dismiss Cat like that. She was a person, too—just because she cleaned for Patrick and he signed her checks didn’t mean he was more important than she. Will had no doubt that when Cat worked for James, he at least treated her with respect.
Dammit. Why was he getting so defensive? He should be pissed she’d dumped his flowers onto his father. There was a twisted irony in there somewhere, but Will was too keyed up to figure it out. What was it about her blatantly throwing his gift back in his face that had him so turned on?
Will searched the entire first and second floors, but Cat was nowhere to be found. Granted, the house was twelve thousand square feet, but there weren’t that many people on staff. How could one petite woman go missing?
Will went back to the first floor and into the back of the house where the utility room was. The door was closed and when he tried to turn the knob, he found it locked. That was odd. Why lock a door to the laundry? He heard movement, so someone was in there.
He tapped his knuckles on the thick wood door and waited. Finally the click of a lock sounded and the door eased open. Cat’s dark eyes met his.
“What do you want?” she asked.
“Can I come in?”
“This isn’t a good time.”
He didn’t care if this was good or bad. He was here and she was going to talk to him. He had to get to another meeting and wasn’t wasting time playing games.
Will pushed the door, causing her to step back. Squeezing in, he shut the door behind him and flicked the lock into place.
Cat had her back to him, her shoulders hunched. “What do you want, Will?”
“You didn’t like the flowers?” he asked, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the door.
“I
love flowers. I don’t like your clichéd way of getting my attention or trying to buy me.”
He reached out, grabbed her shoulder and spun her around. “Look at me, dammit.”
In an instant he realized why she’d been turned away. She was clutching her shirt together, but the swell of her breasts and the hint of a red lacy bra had him stunned speechless.
“I was trying to carry a small shelf into the storage area and it got caught on my shirt,” she explained, looking anywhere but at his face as she continued to hold her shirt. “I ran in here because I knew there was a sewing kit or maybe even another shirt.”
Everything he’d wanted to say to her vanished from his mind. He couldn’t form a coherent thought at this point, not when she was failing at keeping her creamy skin covered.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d stop staring,” she told him, her eyes narrowing. “I don’t have time for games or a pep talk or whatever else you came to confront me about. I have work to do and boobs to cover.”
Her snarky joke was most likely meant to lighten the mood, but he’d wanted her for too long to let anything deter him. He took a step forward, then another, until he’d backed her up against the opposite wall. With her hands holding tight onto her shirt, her eyes wide and her cheeks flushed, there was something so wanton yet innocent about her.
“What do you like?” he asked.
Cat licked her lips. “What?” she whispered.
Will placed a hand on the wall, just beside her head, and leaned in slightly. “You don’t like flowers. What do you like?”
“Actually, I love flowers. I just took you for someone who didn’t fall into clichés.” She offered a slight smile, overriding the fear he’d seen flash through her eyes moments ago. “But you’re trying to seduce the maid, so maybe a cliché is all we are.”
Will slid his other hand across her cheek and into her hair as he brought his mouth closer. “I don’t care if you’re the queen or the maid or the homeless person on the corner. I know what I want and I want you, Cat.”