by Tracy March
“You concentrate on starring in the marketing campaign,” he said, “and I’ll worry about Gran. Gordon and Jamie will make sure it comes out flawless. Gran will be blown away by the finished product.”
Cyn furrowed her brow. “Starring? C’mon, Trent. I’m just…me. And there’s so much at stake here.”
As if she had to tell him that. “‘Just you’ is exactly what we need. I know I’m asking a lot, but I need you to trust me on this one. I’ll have your back, I promise.”
She remained quiet, staring ahead, aimlessly fussing with the collection of bracelets on her wrist. After what seemed like forever, she leveled a stormy gaze on him and said, “I can’t do this.”
“Oh hell yeah you can,” he said because he was fresh out of other arguments.
“You’re supposed to fall for one of the girls your grandmother picked, and feature her in the marketing campaign. It can’t happen any other way.”
“Yes, it can,” Trent said, wondering if he’d totally misread the growing attraction between them. “And at this point, we’re depending on you to make it work.”
Chapter Fifteen
“You’ve known this for nearly a week?” Cyn asked Jamie, her voice high-pitched. “And you didn’t tell me?” She’d finally given in and let Trent show her the contract. He’d doubled down and brought in Gordon, Jamie, and Stuart to convince her to take the risk of appearing in the marketing campaign, even though the Queen didn’t know about the plan. Everyone was certain she should do it—except Cyn.
Trent’s contract offered her five thousand dollars. Five thousand—just to be with Trent! That was a lot of guaranteed money, but it wasn’t nearly enough to save her parents’ house. Cyn would still need to successfully match Trent with one of the Queen’s girls to score the big bonus. She warned herself not to get too caught up in make-believe and forget her primary goal of getting him engaged to someone else. Trent was so charming, so sexy, and the last thing she needed was to be up close and personal with him again. He was just the type of guy she longed for and couldn’t have, and every second she spent with him would remind her of that. Even so, she’d given in to the pressure and signed the simple contract. Now that she’d committed herself to the job, Cyn was eager to do it well. To impress the Queen, and Gordon, Jamie, and Stuart.
And Trent.
Jamie whisked a powdered brush over Cyn’s face. “You would’ve freaked out from nerves.” She caught Cyn’s gaze in the mirror and gave her a sly smile. The bedroom and vanity of Cyn’s cottage had been turned into a dressing room fit for a star. Jamie had brought an array of outfits and accessories for Cyn, all the way down to bejeweled bikinis the likes of which Cyn could never afford. As gorgeous as they were, being seen wearing them in ads for national television had her second-guessing her sanity.
“You’re right,” Cyn said. “Now I’m freaking out from nerves. I’m so not the right girl for this.”
“You so are.” Jamie pulled a flatiron along a section of Cyn’s hair. “We’ve seen it between the two of you since the second we arrived at Hawthorne Manor weeks ago.”
“Seen what?”
“Sizzling chemistry—but I doubt either of you would admit it.”
Cyn’s heart stuttered. Had the Queen seen it, too? There might’ve been some leftover sparks in the air after Cyn and Trent’s shooting-star night in the boxwood maze. But since then, she’d been focused on making sure Trent fell for one of the Queen’s girls. Thinking back, the Queen had seen them together only a couple of times, so Cyn was probably safe…for now. Until the Queen got blindsided by seeing her front and center in Hawthorne Resorts’ advertising.
Jamie gathered another section of Cyn’s hair. “Gordon and I were reviewing some footage this week, planning for the shoot. You two together will burn up the lenses.”
“But that footage of me was all candid. I had no idea he was recording the conch-cracking contest and whenever else he sneaked the camera on me. Now I’ll know. And Trent will be there…”
Jamie handed Cyn the glass of wine that had been out of her reach on the vanity. “Drink some of this, then stay still,” Jamie said lightly, wielding the flatiron. “We don’t need any burn marks to edit out.”
Cyn took a swallow of the chilled wine, refreshed by its crisp finish. “That’s good stuff.”
In just a few minutes, they’d start shooting. With evening fast approaching, Gordon wanted to get some footage of Trent and Cyn on the beach, then at a candlelight dinner.
Jamie smoothed silkening gloss through Cyn’s hair, then stepped back to look at her handiwork. Her gaze met Cyn’s in the mirror. “Perfect. Let’s get that eye-popping dress on you, and we’ll be set.” Jamie had brought a gorgeous topaz-blue strapless sheath dress shirred with chiffon that still managed to look casual enough for a walk on the beach. She added shimmery jewelry, then whipped out a to-die-for pair of silver sandals with beads the exact color of the dress.
Cyn inhaled deeply, dazed by the turn of events. “I feel like Cinderella.”
Jamie grinned. “Then my job here is done.”
Cyn gave Jamie a hesitant smile. This did feel like a fairy tale—just what she’d dreamed would happen to her in real life someday.
They made their way down to one of the resort’s rocky coves where Gordon and Stuart had set up their equipment. Trent stood with them, wearing a white oxford shirt, sleeves rolled up and untucked, over a pair of khaki slacks. The guys had been talking and laughing, but all three of them went silent when Cyn and Jamie rounded the curve of the path and came into view.
Cyn’s heart pounded so hard she worried her strapless dress might reveal the pulse of it. Gordon whistled as she and Jamie joined the guys. Heat rose in Cyn’s cheeks and she hoped like heck that her neck wasn’t getting splotchy.
She met Trent’s gaze, his eyes sparkling as he stepped to her side. “You look amazing.”
Cyn tried to discreetly draw a deep breath, fighting a whirl of excitement and nerves. “You, too.” Before now, Cyn had felt free to be herself with him—casual and mostly unfiltered. But now everything had changed. Where was that carefree girl now?
“Let’s get started,” Gordon said. “We’ve got a masterpiece to make. I want a can’t-take-my-eyes-or-hands-off-you walk on the beach. Head that way.” He pointed toward a massive rock outcropping, waves splashing off its craggy surface. “Then come back. Take off your sandals, Cyn, and carry them in your hand. Trent, bare feet. Roll up those pants legs.”
Cyn held her breath. How could she go from I-wish-I-had-a-guy-like-him to can’t-take-my-eyes-or-hands-off-him? Pretend he’s actually yours. She exhaled slowly. Despite her self-consciousness, she wanted to do the best she could for everyone involved. Gordon, Jamie, and Trent believed in her, and she owed it to them to deliver. She slipped off her sandals while Trent rolled up his pants legs.
Gordon shouldered the camera as Trent took her hand, and they headed down to the frothy shoreline. The sun sank near the horizon, casting a hazy glow perfect for the shoot. “Remember, you’re falling in love,” Gordon called. “Anyone watching should have no doubt about that.”
Cyn tensed a little, feeling the pressure. She’d never been an actress. When it had come time for church plays when she’d been growing up, she was cast as an angel every time, since all they had to do was stand there. They never talked, except in the Christmas story, when Cyn had been cast as a lamb.
Trent casually put his arm around her, clutched her waist, and whispered in her ear. “Relax. It’s just you and me on the beach.”
Cyn gave him a soft smile. He reassured her with a playful look.
Just you and me…
If only things were that simple.
“Don’t worry about anything else,” he said, as if he could see it in her eyes. He stopped walking and pulled her close.
It’s all for the camera.
Trent touched his forehead to hers like he’d done after he’d kissed her weeks ago. “I’m nervous, too. But try to let g
o. Give it a chance.”
The guy was just too sexy. Pressed against his tight abs, awareness swirled through her. Cool seawater swept across her feet. She closed her eyes, immersed in sensation. This time it was her in Trent’s arms in a tropical paradise. Cyn let the feeling sink in. She couldn’t control what happened outside this shoot, but she could make sure she gave Gordon and Jamie some incredible footage to work with.
She smoothed her fingers down Trent’s scruffy cheek. “Deal.”
…
“That dress looks like it was made for her,” Trent said to Jamie after he and Cyn finished their shoot on the beach. Cyn chatted with Gordon and Stuart nearby. Trent allowed himself a long look at her lean, tan legs, then skimmed his way up over her tempting curves and across her slender shoulders.
“Wait until you see the bikinis I brought for her,” Jamie said.
“You’re killing me.”
“That’s the idea.” Jamie winked.
Trent shook his head. “This is all business, remember?”
“Of course it is.” Jamie grinned slyly. “Gordon wants to take some footage in the gazebo before you guys eat dinner up there.”
“I planned the menu with the chef,” Trent said. “Anything he whipped up would be tasty, but we concentrated on presentation—surf and turf with stuffed lobster and filet mignon, sugar snap peas with grape tomatoes, fresh fruit salad—that kind of stuff. Everything will be perfect for the camera.”
Jamie pressed her hand against her stomach. “And delicious.”
“The chef prepared enough for you guys, too,” Trent said. “He’ll have everything ready as soon as we wrap. We can all relax tonight.”
“Sounds perfect.” Jamie pointed her index finger at him. “But don’t stay up too late. No bags under the eyes for your big day tomorrow.”
Would he be able to sleep? His adrenaline had been running at high speed ever since last weekend when he’d told Gordon and Jamie about his plan.
And asked them to keep it a secret.
Gran hated secrets. And surprises. Both of which were coming her way, courtesy of him. A big secret and a huge surprise. Trent had put Cyn right in the middle of them. But he was eyeballs-deep into his plan now. Another long look at Cyn and he knew he’d done the right thing. She cast a shy glance his way and his heart hiccuped. All business, right?
“Ready for dinner?” he asked her.
A smile tugged at the corners of her lightly glossed lips. “I thought you’d never ask.”
They all followed the beach until they reached the stairs leading to the resort’s signature whitewashed gazebo. Perched atop a peninsula of ragged rocks, it overlooked the sea between two golden-sand coves.
He caught Cyn’s gaze and tipped his head toward the gazebo.
“We’re eating up there?” she asked, wide-eyed.
Trent nodded.
“I’ve seen it in pictures.” She shook her head. “But in person it’s really— Wow.”
Her enthusiasm for every little thing renewed his excitement, too. He saw the resorts all the time—practically lived on them. Experiencing this one with Cyn had him seeing it with fresh eyes.
They all climbed the steps to the gazebo, which could also be reached by a pier-style walkway from the main area of the resort. Always on alert, Trent’s staff bustled into action, assisting Gordon and Stuart with equipment and consulting with Jamie. They’d already decorated the gazebo to Jamie’s specifications with tropical flowers, greenery, and an impressive number of candlelit lanterns strung from the roof beams and between posts. It looked more romantic than Trent had ever seen it, despite the number of weddings that took place there.
“I’m kind of nervous,” Cyn whispered to him while Gordon was getting all set.
Trent led her to the railing overlooking the sea. The varied hues of pink in the sky reflected in its swells. “Don’t be,” he said. He resisted the urge to touch her. The camera wasn’t rolling, after all. “Gordon thinks the footage looks great.”
“Not about that.” She rubbed her lips together and clenched the bottom one between her teeth. “All this is just way out of my league. I mean, I’m a small-town girl on a small-scale budget, with a small kinda life going on. It’s all so new to me.” She smoothed her hand down the front of her dress, Trent’s gaze following it closely. “The clothes, the meals, the walks on the beach…”
“And our big day tomorrow.” He’d made certain it included adventures he hoped she’d like.
“Yep.”
“Just enjoy it.” He gave her an encouraging smile. “It’s part of the deal.” But something told him there was a little more to it than that.
Chapter Sixteen
Trent prided himself on his well-trained staff, but tonight he found himself wishing they’d give him and Cyn some space. Jamie, Gordon, and Stuart had left the gazebo, headed for dinner themselves, and now the waitstaff seemed eager to prove how attentive they could be even though Trent already knew. Superior service was a hallmark of Hawthorne Resorts, after all.
The lanterns swung lazily in the sea breeze, their candles burning brighter now that the sun had set. Light danced in Cyn’s eyes and cast mysterious shadows on her face. Gorgeous and tempting. Where had those feelings been when Trent had been with Ava and Naomi?
Cyn speared a chunk of lobster with her fork, dipped it in drawn butter, and put it in her mouth. She tipped her head back and closed her eyes. “Mmm.”
Trent’s thoughts raced to forbidden places and he gazed at her, mesmerized.
She opened her eyes and caught him staring. “This. Is. Delicious. How do you eat like this every day and stay in such good shape?”
He grinned, surprised at how pleased he was by her compliment. “I don’t eat like this every day.”
“Do you cook?”
“I try not to. There are so many talented people around, I’d rather eat what they cook.”
“So you have personal chefs on each island?”
Trent didn’t want to say it that way, exactly. Talking about his chefs was no way to get Cyn to relate to him. He shrugged, then nodded slowly. “They whip up really tasty, healthy meals.”
“Remind me not to invite you over for dinner,” she teased. “My ramen noodles would never measure up to your standards.”
“Are you kidding?” he asked. “I love ramen noodles.”
She narrowed her eyes and tipped her head. “When’s the last time you ate them?”
“In college,” he said, busted, but happy to see her relaxing enough to call him out. “My suitemate wasn’t on a dining plan so he always had a ton of them.”
She shook her head. “I cook real meals once in a while, too. Lasagna’s my specialty.”
“Malone would argue that it’s conch chowder.”
“He’s a sweetheart. But I don’t just stir lasagna,” she joked. “I make it from scratch.”
Trent took a bite of tender filet mignon that practically melted in his mouth, proud that the resort had one of the top chefs on the island. “Lasagna’s my all-time favorite. Gran used to get so tired of me asking for it for dinner. But I only wanted her family’s recipe, not that frozen stuff from the store.”
“For sure,” Cyn said. “Old family recipes are the best. My mom used to make the most decadent almond pound cake—my great-grandmother’s recipe.” A shadow passed over her face, and not from the dancing candlelight. “I used to love that cake.”
“She doesn’t make it anymore?”
Cyn rested her fork on her plate and blotted her mouth with her napkin. “I don’t think she’s made it in a long time.” She shifted her gaze to him quickly and looked away just as fast. “My parents… They’re struggling some right now. I mean, they’re always struggling a little with me.” She shook her head. “Our lifestyles are kind of different.”
“Let me guess,” he said. “They’ve got an issue with your nickname?” He hoped humor would encourage her to tell him more.
She smiled ruefully. “I wish
it was that simple. It seems like we’ve had issues forever. They were incredibly strict while I was growing up, and I just wanted to be a normal kid. You know, take dance lessons, play on the softball team…stuff like that. I would’ve given anything to go to Maple Creek High—like you and Liza and Paige—but I had to stay in the small homeschool co-op I’d been in for years. I wonder if we could’ve avoided lots of trouble…”
Trent raised his eyebrows. “Trouble?”
She waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t want to hear about that.”
“Try me. I’ll wave my napkin if I get bored.”
Cyn took a deep breath and blew it out between rounded lips. “I ran away.” She rolled her eyes.
“Didn’t we all?”
She winced. “Three times—the last one with a boy from my homeschool group who hated it, too. But he liked me, and he had a car, so I figured…”
Trent tipped up his chin. “Now things are getting interesting.”
“For real. The guy’s older cousin worked at a big hotel in Baltimore. He slipped us a room key and we holed up there for most of a weekend.”
“Uh-oh. No way this is going to end well.”
She bowed her head and pressed her fingers to her temple. “It didn’t. The housekeeper busted us, and the hotel manager called the cops. Imagine how pleased my parents were when they came to get me. The way they saw it, I’d run away with a boy, done all sorts of tawdry and unholy things, stolen from the hotel by staying there on the sly, and worried them sick—again.”
Trent had no idea what it would’ve been like for his parents to be so concerned. Gran, on the other hand, had been a different story, but she gave him plenty of freedom. Even so, living in such a strict environment might’ve driven him to do something similar. “What did they do?”
“They sent me to a parochial boarding school for wayward girls, even though they couldn’t afford it.” She shrugged one of her bare shoulders. “Nothing you could relate to.”
Trent blinked a couple of times. She was right. Suddenly it struck him how opposite their worlds were. He’d known that before; he just never thought much about it. “We can’t afford it” wasn’t something he recalled hearing when he was growing up. And when he’d told Gran he wanted to stay in Maple Creek High instead of going to an elite prep school, she hadn’t argued, as long as he agreed to take honors courses and make the grades that would get him into a top-notch college.