by Michele Hauf
She couldn’t swallow a laugh.
“There you go,” he said. “You’re not a nervous flyer.”
She shook her head. “Not unless there’s a lot of turbulence.”
“I’ll tell the pilot to avoid it,” he said.
“Is that like fries?” she asked. “I’d like a burger with fries. I’d like a smooth flight with no turbulence.”
He chuckled. “I never thought of it that way, but yes, maybe. Have a seat. Are you hungry? Thirsty?”
“The attendant already asked me what I wanted to drink,” she said, sitting down. At that moment, the perky attendant brought out chilled water for both Emma and Damien, and juice for Damien.
“Would you like breakfast?” he asked her.
“I grabbed a bagel before I left home.”
He nodded. “I’ll take my regular,” he said and sat down.
Curious, she leaned toward him as she sat across from him. “What’s your regular?”
“Breakfast is two scrambled eggs, bacon, whole wheat toast, grape jam and breakfast potatoes.”
“Lunch?”
“If I take it, club on whole wheat, salt and vinegar chips, dill spear.”
“Dinner?”
“Filet mignon, rare, baked potato, broccoli, Caesar salad. Scotch.”
“You reward yourself if you have to travel at night,” she said.
“Damn right.”
“I’ve learned more about your diet in the last two minutes than I have the entire time I’ve worked for you,” she said.
“Some people say that flying eliminates boundaries that concrete emphasizes.”
“In what way?”
“You’re secluded above the atmosphere with one other person. No distractions unless you invent them. No interruptions. Just time with little space separating you from that one other person,” he said.
The expression in his gaze sent a montage of hot visuals through her mind. This was way too early in the morning and during the trip for her to be thinking about Damien…that way. Taking a quick breath, she deliberately tried to break the hum between them that seemed to grow louder with each passing second.
“Except when you’re stuck in the center seat with a child on either side of you,” she said.
He chuckled. “That’s when noise-canceling earphones are required.”
“That won’t stop bathroom trips and spills,” Emma said.
“You say that as if you have experience,” he said.
“I do. I’ve had to take a few last-minute flights that were packed.”
“None of that today,” he said.
Emma relaxed slightly into her leather seat. “So true.”
The attendant peeked into the lush passenger area. “The pilot says we’re ready for takeoff. Please fasten your seat belts.”
A few hours later, the jet landed in Miami and a limo pulled alongside the plane. Although Emma had made the travel arrangements herself, she couldn’t help but appreciate the efficiency. Within forty-five minutes, they’d checked into the resort they were to evaluate, and she was wandering around her private suite located next door to Damien’s. The lavish suite featured a sitting area with a wall of windows that opened onto a balcony that overlooked the resort’s three pools, Jacuzzis and the turquoise ocean. She took a deep breath of the ocean air and enjoyed the breeze as it played over her skin. Hard to believe this was work.
“What do you think so far?” a voice said from the balcony beside her.
She glanced over to find Damien looking at her. He’d already changed out of his business clothes and wore a tight black T-shirt that emphasized his broad shoulders and well-developed chest and biceps. She couldn’t seem to stop her gaze from following down the rest of his body to lean hips encased in swim trunks. Her mouth went dry and she licked her lips. What had he asked her?
“Pardon me?” she said in a voice that sounded strained to her own ears.
“What do you think of the place so far?”
“It’s beautiful. Check-in was smooth and the bellman was friendly. So far, my suite appears immaculate.”
“Same here,” he said. “It’s almost as if they knew we were coming.”
Emma felt a twist in her stomach. It was likely the staff had indeed known because she’d told Max about Damien’s plans.
“We’re just getting started. I haven’t had time to review my checklist, but I will—”
“Later,” he said. “We’re burning daylight. Put on your swimsuit and meet me downstairs.”
“Uh—” She started to protest because she had actually planned to conduct a thorough inventory of the suite, but he was the boss. “Okay. Give me just a few minutes,” she said and walked inside the suite.
Even though Damien had been a perfect gentleman, she couldn’t escape the barely hidden predatory watchfulness in his gaze. Try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the simmering attraction between them.
Unpacking her swimsuit, Emma told herself she would just have to push her curiosity about Damien aside. Holding up the black string bikini her mother told her she must buy in order to fit in with the other tourists, Emma had second, third and fourth thoughts. Grabbing her sunscreen, oversize sunglasses, baseball cap and checklist, she told herself this was just business.
Damien lounged by the pool, responding to messages on his cell phone as he waited for Emma. He was counting on making this trip a turning point. By creating some distance between her and corporate headquarters, he planned to increase her sense of loyalty to him—mentally, physically and sexually.
Glancing upward, he spotted a pale woman wearing a baseball cap, huge sunglasses and a mesh cover-up that didn’t conceal a tiny black bikini or the voluptuous body beneath it. Spotting her silky brown hair swinging over her shoulders, he realized it was Emma. Since she always hid herself beneath tailored suits, he’d only been able to imagine her naked.
Swearing under his breath, he took in every delicious inch of her. Her baby-pale skin would fry in this sun, he thought, immediately deciding to get an umbrella to shield her. Her full breasts bounced with each step. Her hips swayed invitingly.
Then she stopped suddenly as if she were looking for him. He caught her nervousness as she licked her lips then bit her upper one. He withheld a groan while he mentally stripped her of those tiny pieces of fabric.
Damien stood and moved toward her. She immediately caught sight of him. “Hi,” she said breathlessly. “It took me a little extra time because I had to put on sunscreen.”
Damn shame, he thought. He would have loved to apply it himself. “No problem. I thought we’d go out to the beach since we don’t have much time left today. We can check the pools and hot tubs later.”
“Sure,” she said and followed him to the towel hut. Holding the wooden door from the pool area for her, he took a lingering glance at her backside as she stepped in front of him.
Uh-huh. He had plans for her. They walked onto the beach and one of the beach staff approached them. “May I help you?”
“We’d like a cabana with two lounge chairs,” Damien said.
“Right away, sir,” the beach staff said and led them to a cabana, brushed sand off chairs and situated them underneath.
“Thank you,” Emma said.
Damien nodded and tipped the man.
“Excellent service,” she said, sitting down on the chair.
“Yes. Like I said, it’s almost like they know they’re being evaluated. But that couldn’t be possible, could it?” he asked, studying her face.
She looked away. “Maybe they’re always conscientious.”
“Maybe,” he agreed, but he already knew that Emma had informed Max about the trip. Ultimately, it wouldn’t be his loss. It would be MD’s loss because they wouldn’t get an unbiased view of the resort. “Of course, here comes the cocktail waiter. What would you like?” he asked Emma.
“Something from the bar?” the waiter asked.
“I don’t need anything. I brought water,” she said, pulling a bottle
from her bag and taking a sip.
“You must order something,” he said. “How can you comment if you don’t try everything?”
“You order for me, then.”
“Beer for me and Sex on the Beach for the lady,” he said and met her gaze dead-on.
Emma made a little choking sound. Damien took the opportunity to rub her back and gently squeeze one of her shoulders. “Okay?”
“Fine. Just fine,” she said in a husky voice, leaning back in her chair. She covered her face with the cap from her head.
The waiter quickly filled the order and Damien drank half his beer while he urged Emma to polish off her mixed drink. He pulled off his T-shirt and baseball cap. “Would you like to go in the ocean?”
She sat up, but paused. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in the ocean.”
“How long?”
“I live in Vegas, remember, so ten or more years.”
He grabbed her hand. “Then we need to fix that right now,” he said and led her toward the water.
“There’s no rush,” she said with a slight protest in her voice. “I don’t have to do everything the first day.”
“This isn’t everything. This is just a little dip.”
“Yes, but I think I might prefer the pool.”
“It’s been so long. How would you know?” he asked, tugging her into the surf.
“Whew! It’s cool, isn’t it?”
He smiled, finding her shyness appealing. “Are you afraid of the water?”
“Oh, no,” she protested, but continued to grasp his hand like a vise.
“No problem. We can take it as slow as you want,” he said, coming to a stop. He felt her gaze on him for a long moment, but couldn’t read her expression because of her sunglasses.
“I can go a little further,” she said in a low voice that had Damien visualizing her naked and beneath him again.
Oh, heaven help me, I’m standing next to Damien and he’s half-naked. How in the world did he maintain that body? She shuddered at what he might think of her body. No one would call her reed-thin. A man like Damien must be accustomed to dating women with model-perfect figures.
Emma tried to push those thoughts from her head. It didn’t matter if Damien thought she wasn’t thin enough. In fact, it was all the better. With the cool water fluttering over her ankles, she stepped deeper into the ocean. The water splashed against her calves.
“Okay?” he asked, and she abruptly noticed that she was clasping his hand with a death grip.
“Oh,” she said and tried to loosen her grip, but a wave took her by surprise. She gave a little jump.
He gave a low chuckle.
“Don’t laugh at me,” she scolded him and bit her lip as she forced herself to move forward. Another wave broke, licking at her thighs. She clasped his hand. “Are there jellyfish?”
“Probably not in May,” he said.
“Probably,” she echoed.
“I’ll pick you up and carry you back if you see one,” he offered.
Emma didn’t know which prospect was worse—a jellyfish or being in Damien’s arms. “Thanks,” she muttered and inched forward. “Why do the waves seem to be getting bigger so quickly?”
“High tide,” he said. “Do you want to go back?”
“Not yet,” she said, refusing to give in to her fear. The last time she’d visited the ocean there’d been a strong undercurrent and she’d inhaled saltwater while she tried to determine which way was up. It wasn’t a pleasant memory and she wanted to replace it with a better one. She walked further and the bottom seemed to fall out. Slipping into water up to her chin, she automatically clutched at Damien, wrapping her arms and legs around him. “What—” she gasped “—happened?”
“You’re okay,” he said, closing his strong arms around her. “We were on a sandbar and the bottom suddenly dipped. I’ve got you.”
Surprisingly, the water was calmer. “Where did the waves go?” she asked.
“We’re past them now,” he said. “This is where it gets nice and calm. Do you like it?”
Taking in all the lovely sensations, she felt buoyant, yet protected. Her body had grown accustomed to the cooler temperature and she felt warm and safe against Damien’s strong chest. Her legs dangled in the water while he made sure their heads stayed above the ocean.
She took a deep breath and something inside her eased. His skin was smooth beneath her fingers wrapped around the back of his neck. His chest glistened from the reflection of the sun.
“We should probably go back towards shore,” she said, deferring to her logical, rational side.
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Is that what you want?”
He felt deliciously strong and the sensation of the water washing over them was sensual in a way she’d never experienced. “Not really,” she said, meeting his dark gaze. “It’s nice.”
“Yes, it is,” he said, sliding his hands over her back. “Were you scared?”
“Nervous. It’s been awhile and the last time I took a good dunking.” She glanced out at the blue water, the sun making it sparkle like diamonds. “It’s so beautiful.”
“Have you ever been on a yacht?”
She shook her head. “No. Why?”
“My brother lives down here. He owns a yacht business.”
She smiled. “Rough life.”
He laughed. “That’s what I say. Would you like to go for a ride?”
Intimately aware of the fact that he stood between her thighs, her breasts just below his chin, she already felt as if she were on a ride, a very dangerous one. “It’s not part of our evaluation of the resort, is it?” she asked, but the idea of spending some time out on the water nearly made her drool.
“No, but we don’t have to spend every minute evaluating the actual resort…”
“I’d love to,” she said impulsively and hoped she wouldn’t regret it later.
9
After a delicious dinner in the hotel’s gourmet restaurant, Damien took Emma for a stroll down Lincoln Road to enjoy the night air and the outdoor mall. Emma had been a charming dinner companion, tasting and rating every dish. When she’d closed her eyes and licked her lips after sampling the chocolate cake, it had been all he could do not to carry her up to his room. “I’ve called my brother and he’s taking us out on one of his yachts tomorrow. But you can go shopping the day after tomorrow while I’m catching up on some of my work. Use my card.”
“Oh, I keep forgetting about your card,” she said and abruptly stopped, her brown knee-length skirt swishing around her curvy legs. Her silk top emphasized her delicate shoulders and draped over her breasts. Damien was enjoying Emma’s South Beach dress far more than her conservative office attire. She pulled out his credit card and held it toward him. “I don’t need this anymore. Actually, I never did. I was able to find a few things on sale, so…”
“You didn’t use my card?” he asked in disbelief.
She gave an uncomfortable shrug. “No. It just didn’t seem—” She seemed to read his expression of disapproval. “I found bargains, so it wasn’t necessary.”
“I told you to use my card,” he said, torn between dismay and anger. He’d never had a problem getting a woman to use his credit card for shopping before. “I knew you would need different clothing for this trip and it was appropriate for me to provide for that.”
“I’ll wear it again,” she said.
“When?” he asked.
“Maybe on a date,” she said, lifting her shoulders and smiling. “Mallory’s determined to match me up with her friends.”
Her reply irritated him. “So you’ll wear that black bikini on a blind date?”
Her mouth opened and she paused before she closed it and bit her lip. “Well, maybe not, but I needed a new swimsuit anyway. Why is this such a problem? I was trying not to take inappropriate advantage.”
Yet, she wouldn’t bat an eye before betraying him to her former bosses. “It’s insulting.”
Her eyes
widened. “I certainly didn’t mean it that way.” Her brow furrowed. “How could it be insulting?”
“I offered to provide clothing for a mandatory business trip and you rejected it.”
“I apologize. I didn’t look at it that way.” She took a quick breath. “This trip has been wonderful so far. I just appreciate being able to be in this amazing place with—” She broke off suddenly as if she didn’t want to finish the sentence. She didn’t want to be happy being with him.
Another step closer, he realized with a sliver of satisfaction. He was making progress. Soon enough she would give him everything he wanted—her passion, and the information he needed to get De Luca. “Keep the card,” he said. “Maybe you’ll find something when you get a chance to go shopping. A souvenir.”
After their walk, they returned to the hotel’s nightclub, which featured subdued lighting, white sheet like drapes that extended from the high ceilings to the floor, couches and free-flowing martinis. A band played Cuban music, luring listeners onto the dance floor.
“I know Vegas has some hot nightspots, but like most natives I don’t get out to them,” Emma said as she sipped her martini. She glanced around. “There’s something sybaritic about this place. How is your mojito?”
“A little sweet. I prefer my drinks dry. How is your martini?”
“Delicious and generous,” she said. “After my full day, I’m almost afraid to drink it.”
“It would be a shame to waste it,” he said, looking at her mouth, wanting to taste it. The restless, irritable feeling inside him grew, but he tamped it down. “We should dance,” he said.
“We should?” she echoed after taking another sip from her martini.
“We have to make our charade believable,” he said and extended his hand. She followed him onto the dance floor and allowed him to pull her against his body.
The music shifted to a rhythm-and-blues tune and Damien decided, for once, to enjoy the moment. For just this song, he would steep himself in the scent and sensation of her and seduce her just a little further. Damien knew that anticipation was half the game.