She opened the door and, even though she was well prepared, she still felt that automatic racing of her heart as she was confronted with him. Groundhog Day. That was what it was beginning to feel like. Whatever bracing talks she gave herself about self-control, one look at him and back she went to square one.
‘How’s the foot?’
Mia looked down then raised her eyes to his. ‘Much better.’
‘I’ve brought you this. Consider it a present.’ He held out a fancy crutch. ‘I’ll obviously try to ensure that you put as little weight on your foot as possible, but that’s not going to be possible much of the time.’ He watched as she hoicked the crutch under her armpit. ‘Unless,’ he drawled, ‘you want me to carry you…?’
‘I’ll be fine,’ Mia said hurriedly.
He’d taken her rucksack and hoisted it over his shoulder.
He looked sinfully, wickedly sexy. Denim jeans, the usual tan loafers and a fitted, V-necked grey tee shirt that did amazing things for his body.
Mia averted her eyes. Somehow, in the muddle of being talked into this trip, she had failed to pin him down on the details, and as she settled into the back seat of the car she turned to him and said, urgently, ‘I don’t even know where exactly we’ll be going…’
Max angled himself so that he was looking at her. ‘To see a bit more of the islands,’ he murmured. ‘Wasn’t that the recommended piece of advice so that I could have an idea of why all my dull and anodyne ideas were jettisoned? You told me that I needed to see the real Hawaii, so I’m just obeying orders.’
‘I can’t imagine you ever obeying orders,’ Mia said under her breath, but not so quietly that he didn’t pick it up, because he grinned and raised his eyebrows.
When he grinned like that, she thought distractedly, he was so…engaging. She could feel her natural defence mechanisms wobble a little. Four days! And she still didn’t know what those four days were going to look like!
All about work, of course, because this wasn’t a holiday, and he was a workaholic who would get his pound of flesh whatever the cost—but what was going to happen during downtime? There was only so much work they could reasonably be expected to do. What happened when the laptops got closed, the briefing was done and the accounts were put to bed? Even with his promise, she would remind him that after five her time would be her own to do with as she saw fit.
‘Do you have an itinerary?’ she asked briskly and frowned when he grinned a bit more.
‘Of sorts.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘It means that I got someone to run through what I should be expecting on the various islands and I made sure they sorted out our trip accordingly.’
‘You got someone…?’
‘Nat was very helpful, and his suggestions were reinforced by what the tourist guide at the hotel had to offer. In the absence of knowing anything about the place, I went with the flow and booked various venues accordingly.’
‘You should have asked me,’ Mia said accusingly and his grin widened.
Dammit, she wished he would stop doing that. It was all she could do not to be seduced into thinking that this was going to be fun, when his expression was light and his eyes were amused and the harsh, ruthless, arrogant self-assurance that wound her up so much was not in evidence.
‘I would have done,’ he said on a rueful, insincere sigh. ‘But I thought it best for you to focus on recovering after your little mishap. We can talk about the itinerary when we board the plane to Maui. That’s our first port of call.’
‘You do know that Maui is nicknamed the Beverley Hills Island, don’t you? Which is not exactly what I had in mind when it came to showing you the inspiration behind Izzy’s reworking of the hotel.’
‘But we have to start somewhere,’ Max murmured. ‘Actually, when it comes to luxury, we’ll be starting somewhat sooner…’
He jerked his head and Mia—who had not taken in where they were going, or even how much distance they had been covering in the smoothly purring luxury car—now saw that, yes, they had certainly arrived at the airport. But this was not the section of the airport with which she was familiar.
They were being driven to a shiny black jet and her mouth dropped open in amazement.
‘We’re getting there in this?’
Max nodded, already swinging his long body out of the car while his driver sprang into action and pulled open her door. Hand on the bonnet of the car, he leant in and met her eyes. ‘Less stressful than battling with the stampeding hordes at the airport.’
Impressed to death, she hobbled alongside him into the jet. It was ridiculously opulent, big enough to fit up to twelve people, but it was soon obvious that they would be the only occupants.
The seats were a rich, buttery cream leather, the tables were highly polished walnut and the pale tufted carpet made her want to kick off her sandals and riffle her toes through its soft pile. Champagne was offered by a smiling, uniformed young woman. Mia shook her head. Max, barely glancing at either the woman or the tray, grabbed a glass in passing but he was already on the phone as they settled into their seats.
Mia realised that he was completely oblivious to his surroundings. He could have been on a bus for all the attention he paid to the luxurious jet.
The differences between them gaped wide. The differences between him and his sister were even more puzzling, given they both came from the same background.
She settled into the seat and gazed around her. Agenda? Itinerary? She had to drag her mind back to reality as she waited for him to finish his phone call.
Half listening, she realised that he was talking to his brother about a yacht. Had they just bought one? The level of wealth was mind-boggling.
‘It’s so weird.’ She turned to him as soon as he was off the phone and he looked at her quizzically.
‘Leading statement,’ he said. ‘Can’t wait to hear where this is going.’
‘All of this…’ She made a sweeping gesture to encompass the jet, the flute of champagne, the leather, and the walnut and the hush. Because the young woman who had handed them drinks had tactfully faded into the background and the pilot was still on the ground, talking to whomever pilots of private jets needed to talk before they took off. ‘You’re not impressed, are you?’
He looked absently around him and shrugged. ‘I stopped being impressed by the things money can buy a long time ago. When it comes to private jets, I’ve been on many, and many were bigger, faster and better-looking.’
‘You’re so different from Izzy.’
‘So I’m beginning to conclude.’
‘I mean…’ Mia frowned and placidly bypassed the unwelcoming expression on his face. ‘Of course I knew from the start that she came from a wealthy background, because she told me that she had been hired by you to handle the hotel as a first job experience. How many girls are blessed enough to cut their teeth on such a great job? But, if I hadn’t known that, if I’d just met her out and about, there’s no way I would ever have thought that she came from money.’
‘Because…? And I ask because I don’t suppose there’s the slightest chance of closing this conversation down until you’ve said what you intend to.’
Mia was vaguely aware of an impatient edge to his voice, but she was a lot more aware of his forearm resting close to hers on the arm rest of the seat. Her eyes kept straying to its sinewy strength, the length of his fingers, the dark, fine hair.
‘Because she never dresses in designer clothes and she honestly doesn’t seem impressed by the fact that she can pretty much have whatever she wants. I guess, judging from all of this…’
‘I’ll have to take your word on that,’ Max intoned abruptly. ‘I can’t say I’ve ever paid much attention to the clothes my sister wore.’
The pilot was now in the plane and he walked over, shook hands and chatted about the flight. He inspir
ed confidence. It was a relief, because Mia had never been in anything as small as this before. She could surf with the best of them, and the ocean didn’t scare her, but on the three occasions when she had flown on a plane she had been sickly nervous of the fact that the ground was nowhere near beneath her. Now, peering out of the circular window, she had disturbing visions of being in a matchbox high up in the air, tossed about by air currents. Her stomach swooped.
She’d been talking about Izzy but now, as the pilot headed towards the cockpit, the conversation was lost in a wave of high-wire tension.
‘I’ve never been on a private jet before.’ Her voice was unnaturally high and she cleared her throat.
‘I gathered,’ Max said wryly.
‘No. I mean I’ve never…’ She breathed in deeply as the engines roared into deafening life. She wished she had some vital statistics to hand. How many of these tiny little pieces of metal fell from the sky every year? Maybe, in this instance, ignorance was bliss. ‘I mean…’ She clutched the arms of the chair in a death-defying grip. ‘I’ve never been up in the air in anything quite as small as this…’
‘Are you okay?’
‘Absolutely!’
As the plane began to taxi, she felt her nerves begin to shred even though she told herself that this was probably safer for getting from A to B than some of the taxis she occasionally took after she’d been out at night. It might feel as fragile as a paper plane, but it was as sturdy as a rock. Surely?
‘What’s wrong?’ Max asked sharply.
‘I feel a little sick.’
‘Jesus. Are you scared?’
‘No,’ Mia squeaked.
‘Look at me!’
She stared straight at him as the jet shot upwards at what felt like supersonic speed. She felt a rocket couldn’t have gone faster. Her insides were all over the place and she wanted to whimper even though her head was telling her to behave.
Two things happened at once. She squeezed her eyes tightly shut and…he kissed her.
He kissed her!
It was so unexpected that Mia’s eyes flew open in shock. His mouth on hers was a drug, obliterating everything. She felt the warm dart of his tongue against hers and she sighed, succumbed to the kiss, succumbed to something she realised she’d been fantasising about practically from the first moment she’d clapped eyes on him.
And nothing could have prepared her for how sweet it would be. How much she would want it to go on and on, for ever. There was no space inside her for fear.
The hand that been clutching the armrest crept up, tangling in that luxurious dark hair, and the other hand somehow managed to find the curve of his cheek.
She felt her breasts tingling, her nipples spiking against her bra, and she was wet, so wet, between her thighs.
He was cupping her face and playing with her ear with one finger. The tiny movements sent electric currents racing through her body, lighting up every part of her, as though she’d suddenly been plugged into a live socket.
Then just like that he pulled away and cold air filled the void.
It took a couple of seconds for Mia to snap out of her daze.
‘You should be all fine now,’ he murmured, sending her one last look before sitting back and finishing the glass of champagne.
‘All fine? What? Oh!’ Of course. He’d kissed her and she’d lost herself in it like a teenager in the full throes of adolescent lust. Her lips tingled from where his had been and every pore in her body was buzzing with energy. She wanted to touch her mouth with her hand, and she made sure she didn’t give in to any such temptation by firmly clasping them together on her lap.
She’d been terrified as the jet had soared at a vertical angle into the clouds and he’d kissed her to distract her from the terror. He’d seen it writ large on her face and he’d kindly gone for a swift remedy, and it had worked because she had yielded to that kiss and enjoyed every second of it.
Humiliation roared through her. She went hot, then cold, then she shook her head and rolled her eyes and cracked a smile.
‘I should thank you.’
Their eyes collided and for a few seconds Max remained silent, his expression veiled.
The last thing he’d considered doing when he’d hit Hawaii in search of his wayward sister was making an impromptu tour of islands he wasn’t remotely interested in visiting.
That said, the last thing he’d expected was a woman furiously digging her feet in and denying him the information he had travelled thousands of miles to obtain. And, from there, everything else had been a slow unravelling of life as he knew it.
What he did know was that he’d never felt more invested in having this woman.
It was a weakness. He knew that. He loathed the way it undermined his hard-headed logic, but it was an overpowering urge he couldn’t seem to fight.
He’d seen her today dressed in her usual ‘day at a building site’ uniform, and he’d smiled, because no one could accuse her of putting herself out to dress up for him.
Indeed, what she wore was an act of defiance.
He wondered how she would react if she knew just how sexy she was in shapeless cargo pants and a pair of flat sandals, with her hair tied back in a ponytail.
Her beauty was luminescent.
And his body had reacted accordingly. He’d breathed her in as she’d settled into the seat next to him and, of course, predictably, she had entertained him with her forthright, no-holds-barred, uninvited insights into his personal life.
Was it because he’d expected her mouthy, outspoken, full-frontal attack and her sudden panic on the plane had driven him to do what he’d been longing to do for days? Their eyes had met, he’d seen the utterly soft and vulnerable fear there and he’d thought of one thing and one thing only. Kissing her. Kissing that fear out of existence. Kissing her until she forgot everything but him.
She’d melted into him and her soft acquiescence had sent his libido shooting into the stratosphere. For the first time in his life, his self-control had been utterly and completely obliterated.
And that had scared the hell out of him.
It was one thing musing thoughtfully about breaking his own self-imposed rules about never mixing business with pleasure. It was one thing contemplating tasting the freedom of straying out of his comfort zone. It was quite another to discover that he just hadn’t been able to help himself. His body had taken the decision-making out of his hands, and that had never happened before.
Yet now, even as he sensed her withdrawing at speed, covering up the fact that she had enjoyed that kiss as much as he had, he itched to pull her right back into him and carry on where they had left off.
He could have her. In that moment, he had sensed her want, had known what he had suspected…
But hard on the heels of that pleasing recognition came one that was slightly less welcome.
Lust was one thing but the thought of distancing himself and denial in the aftermath… A moment’s pleasure was never worth an hour of post-pleasure angst and guilt, and some inner radar was telling him that post-pleasure angst and guilt might be her natural response.
‘Thank me? For the distraction?’ He shot her a crooked, amused smile and didn’t take his eyes off her flushed face. ‘Did you enjoy it?’ he murmured, voice low and husky.
‘It did the job,’ she returned crisply, which made him smile more. Where most women would have offered seconds, she could barely meet his eyes. He felt back in control and that split-second of disturbing unease had been banished. In fact, he felt buoyant.
‘In that case, glad to be of service.’
‘Tell me about the itinerary.’
‘The itinerary…’
‘Where exactly we’re going and where we’ll be staying and other such things.’
‘I have a printout somewhere.’ If she ran any faster from acknowledging t
hat kiss, then she’d be in danger of tripping over her own feet in her haste.
‘Perhaps I could see it?’
‘We could always wait until we get to the hotel,’ he drawled. ‘Review it in more relaxed conditions. It’s a short flight.’
Flustered, Mia chewed her lip. She was still so unsettled she could barely think clearly. Bringing things back to business should have worked, should have focused her mind, but he wasn’t playing ball, and she was at a loss as to how to drag the conversation back to where she wanted it.
Did you enjoy it…?
What kind of question was that? she inwardly fumed. He’d been laughing at her. She was sure of it. She’d done her best to act cool and collected but, not to beat about the bush, she’d practically hurled herself into his arms the second his mouth had touched hers. He was a guy with a lot of experience, and he would have had to be blind to miss the shameful enthusiasm of her response. Of course he was laughing at her now! Did he think that she had seriously imagined that he actually fancied her? Yes. Yes, he did.
‘I don’t even know what hotel you’ve booked.’
‘You’ll like it. Trust me.’ He grinned and she returned a withering look because she was pretty sure she wasn’t going to like what he said next, not judging from the barely contained laughter in his navy eyes. ‘Or maybe not… You might find it just more tedious luxury after you’ve been forced to endure the horror of a private jet.’
‘I never said that this was horrible!’
‘I know, but somehow you’ve managed to remind me at every turn that my life choices are too materialistic and therefore leave a lot to be desired.’
Mia sniffed. He didn’t sound offended. He sounded amused. The wretched man sounded relaxed while she, on the other hand, was in state of churning, inner turmoil.
‘I’m very sorry if that was the impression I gave,’ she said coolly.
‘No, you’re not.’ He was still grinning. ‘If it’s one thing you’re never sorry about, it’s giving me a headache.’
‘That’s not true!’ She bristled.
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