by Zuri Day
“Is that an apology?”
“Did you offer me one?”
They stared each other down, eyes blazing. Lauren blinked first, turned back to her computer. “I’ve got too much to do to deal with you right now. But just so you know, those listening skills still need work.”
“Lauren, I’m sorry.”
She could hear the effort that apology cost him, and turned back around. “Me, too. And while I’ve apologized before, I could also be more understanding. It was a terrible position to be in. You had every right to be angry.”
“You’re not the kind of woman who’d have to use any underhanded tactic to get a man, me or anyone else.”
“Are those Victoria’s words, or did you come to that conclusion on your own?”
“They’re my words, but I’m sure Mom would agree with me. Dad, too, for that matter.”
She watched him take a step toward her, saw his eyes darken and braced herself. “I missed you last night.”
“Yeah,” she whispered, barely audible. “Me, too.”
“It’s crazy. I dreamed of you.”
“You did?” She swallowed the truth that tickled her throat, that she’d dreamed of him, too.
“Want to know what we were doing?”
Her smile matched his. “I think I can guess.”
“We were back in Djibouti, in the glass-bottom boat. You were naked. And there, with some of the finest beauty in all of the world, all I saw was you.”
Lauren’s legs threatened to buckle beneath the sensuality of his dream. She abruptly sat and changed the subject. It was either that or close the door and take him on the desk.
“Thanks for stopping by, Christian. There’s a ton of work to do in the next couple weeks, but I promise to get all the matter with Ed, and your part in it, straightened out.”
“If you don’t, I will.”
“You won’t have to,” Lauren countered. “This is my business. I said I’d handle it, and I will.”
“Okay.”
They looked at each other. A second passed, then two. Their eyes conveyed words that didn’t need to be spoken. Lauren inwardly admitted what she’d too long denied. She not only loved Christian Breedlove, she was falling in love with him.
He cleared his throat. “Speaking of business, listen. You’ve got skills that the company can use, and from the sound of things your being in Vegas is beneficial to you, too. So let’s try to focus on work when we’re working and handle personal affairs when we’re not on the clock. Fair enough?”
“That’s fair.”
Just then, Lauren noticed a leather-bound portfolio Christian carried. He held it out to her.
She reached for it. “What’s this?”
“A proposed contract for you to work on CANN Island. Look it over, run it past your attorney, make any changes you desire. After that we can meet and hammer out the official version for your signature.”
Lauren flipped through the pages. “When do you need this back?”
“The sooner, the better. While part of CANN International, we want the island project to have its own special branding with a cool tagline, such as what you designed for the jewelry video. We want to get brochures done and videos shot. Collateral for both investors and visitors, too.”
“Sounds like a lot of work, especially on top of what I’m already doing for Victoria and the foundation.”
“I understand, and when working on major events, the foundation will still be your priority,” he reassured her. “What I’m asking for should come during the foundation’s downtimes, depending on how much time you’ll need for the projects I’m proposing. It’ll take a bit of adjusting on both our parts, but I believe we can work it out.”
“I do, too.”
Christian nodded and headed for the door.
“Christian.”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
His eyes darkened as they slid from her eyes to her lips. Quivers traveled from her core to her nether set. For several seconds neither spoke, but again, messages were communicated.
“You’re welcome.”
He left. Lauren let out the breath she didn’t know she’d been holding. How could she work beside that man and not be intimate when her entire body craved his touch? It was a question she mulled over all day long but even after midnight, as she crawled into bed, she didn’t have the answer.
Twenty
“Big brother!” Said in stereo by Noah and Nick as they burst through the private entrance to his spacious office without bothering to knock.
“The dynamic duo,” Christian said drily. “Ill-mannered and uninvited. Just what I need.”
“You’ll take back those words in a minute.” Noah plopped into one of two chairs facing Christian’s desk, with complete irreverence for the superlight gray cashmere Enzo D’Orsi original that had set him back almost six figures. “We’ve got an idea that will blow your mind!”
“And some great news to go along with it!” Nick added. He reached into a crystal bowl of mints, unraveled the plastic wrapper and popped it in his mouth.
Great news? He could use some. Lauren’s betrayal had left him in a serious funk. Even now, days after he and Lauren came to a tenuous truce and with him finally believing the story about why she lied, the deception had put an unsightly mark on a woman he thought could be the missus. If he were looking for such a thing. Which he wasn’t.
You’re married to CANN, remember?
With all of the other women, this line had worked. He’d said it, and he’d meant it. But not today. His heart literally ached at the thought that the possibility of a lifetime with Lauren had been destroyed. But this was a personal matter, and he was on the clock. So he took a deep breath, forced his mind back on business and hid his angst beneath a casual smile.
“I have a feeling I could live to regret this but, all right, what’s this bright idea?”
“CANN Isles,” Noah began dramatically.
“Oh, like the one being planned in Djibouti? Were it not for the fact that Noah sat in on the quite extensive sales presentation, I’d say great minds think alike. Instead I’ll just say...get out.”
“Not so fast, thundercloud,” Nick said. “We know you’re proud of that latest baby, especially since our phones are blowing up with interested investors from all over the world.”
Noah sat up and leaned forward, fixing Christian with a laser stare. “So, check this out. CANN Island is the deluxe version, in Djibouti, right? And on private islands dotted across the country, smaller versions of your grand idea will become known as... CANN Isles. Off of the most scenic coasts of every continent. Genius, right?”
Christian looked between the twins, searched for the twinkle in their eye that would tell him they were joking. They were not.
“You do know that isn’t a novel idea, that people buy islands and build mansions on them.”
“Right, mansions. Not hotels. And not like us.”
“There may be a reason,” Christian countered. “Like not wanting to sink a building of high-paying guests into the big blue.”
He looked at his watch, fired up his computer and began going over notes for a meeting taking place in an hour.
“You’re not getting it,” Nick said. He hopped out of the chair and paced the room. “We’re talking boutique hotels—limited number of rooms, very exclusive.”
“With perks and amenities unparalleled,” Noah said, counting on his fingers. “Butlers, private chefs, complimentary top-shelf drinks and a bottle of premium Dom on arrival.”
“Isle to land service via a customized private plane.”
Christian harrumphed with a slight headshake. Offering my plane as part of guest perks? Kids... I swear.
“I was in New York over the weekend,” Nick said, following his brother in typical tag
team fashion. “And a unique opportunity presented itself. A private island, ten square miles, with a view of Manhattan.”
“What was the opportunity?” Christian asked.
“It was for sale, just came on the market,” Nick replied. “And I bought it.”
This got Christian’s attention. He leaned back in his chair, watched as the twins shared a cocky smile between them and felt a little burst of pride in his chest. “Okay, duo dudes, tell me more.”
For the next thirty minutes the twins shared their vision. When they finished, Christian was more than intrigued. “Put something together for Dad and me,” he told them. “Do either of you have something pressing in the next hour or so?”
They both shook their heads.
“Good, I think it would be beneficial to have you two in this meeting.”
He reached for the office phone, a sign of dismissal. The twins took the hint and quietly exited the room. Christian wanted them gone but there really was a call to make, to one more person who should be in the meeting. Lauren.
She arrived just moments before the start of his presentation and took his breath away. Her look was simple sophistication, impeccable. He never dreamed a tailored business suit could look so sexy. Her hair was still straightened, but today it was pulled into a high ponytail that emphasized her almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones. Red lipstick boldly brought attention to her succulent lips. He watched the men pause as she walked into the room and VP Greg Chapman become a bumbling idiot as he rushed to pull back her chair. Noah sidled over with admiring eyes taking her in, leaned down and said something that made Lauren laugh.
Christian wanted to kiss her and choke him.
“All right, gang,” Christian began a few minutes later. “Let’s get started. Some of you have met Lauren Hart.” He gestured toward her. She nodded, a pleasant, professional look on her face as she made eye contact with the eight people at the table besides Christian and her.
“Lauren relocated from the East Coast to help Victoria Breedlove with a series of CANN Foundation fund-raisers, an important component of the overall organization and one that helps thousands of people live better lives, both here in the state of Nevada and around the world.
“Two weeks ago the foundation held its annual fashion show and tea, and thanks to Lauren’s uniquely creative marketing expertise, it became the most profitable fund-raiser in the ten years the foundation has been in operation.”
He waited a beat to let that fact sink in, and watched respect and admiration be added to the subtle look of lust in their eyes.
“I had a chance to view part of Ms. Hart’s campaign and got an idea of why the event experienced record-breaking success and immediately thought that skill set could be advantageous to CANN International as we move forward with several new ventures, the first of which is CANN Island.
“As some of you know, Ms. Hart and I recently traveled to Djibouti for a series of meetings, all of which went quite well. The government is well aware of what a business like ours can do for their economy, and they’ve been extremely welcoming and helpful. I also met with several investors and potential partners for the retail and entertainment aspects of the overall plan, all of which I’ve condensed into a report that by the time you return to your offices will be in your inbox.” He cleared his throat. “However, for right now I’d like to formally welcome Lauren to the team and ask her to say a word or two regarding her thoughts on the visit and our future in African tourism.” He watched her eyes flare briefly at the unexpected request, even as she scooted her chair away from the table. “Lauren?”
Lauren stood and joined Christian at the front of the room. “Do we have any Boy Scouts?” she asked, holding up her hand.
A couple men held up a hand or a finger.
“I was a Girl Scout, and those of you who were Boy Scouts know the motto that was drilled into our learning experience. Be Prepared. That advice has served me well throughout the years, as it does now in being called upon for an impromptu presentation.” She looked at Christian with a deceptively kind smile. “I’m prepared.”
The men laughed and even the couple she saw who for whatever reason were clearly not happy seemed to loosen up a bit. She was confident and well-spoken as she gave a brief bio that included personal information such as her western roots, her college education and awards, and her professional history that included work with Fortune 100 and 500 companies.
“I believe there are some things that can’t be taught,” she finished, “or even learned. And while I appreciate both my higher learning and the experience I’ve gained, my uniquely creative way with words, as Christian put it, I believe is a gift, something that’s always come naturally. I was thrilled to learn that the ideas put forth for the Valentine’s Day fashion and tea resulted in a record-breaking fund-raiser. I look forward to working on the for-profit side of CANN and breaking even more.”
Christian scanned the room as Lauren spoke, his coworkers, peers, in the palm of her hand. He was no exception. It was the first time he’d witnessed her in a corporate environment. He’d been enthralled, smitten, while watching her effortlessly navigate the high-ticket fashion show’s rarefied air. But here, on his boardroom turf, she was just as natural and even more impressive. Beautiful and smart, a winning combination. Even for a woman he couldn’t marry. He ignored the errant thought, focused on her lips and remembered the long moments he’d gotten lost just kissing them. When he knocked on her office door an hour later, kissing was still very much on his mind.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said when she beckoned him in. Lauren made a face. “Sorry, I forgot. It’s business hours. Hey, Lauren.”
He was rewarded with a smirky smile. “Mr. Breedlove, how can I help you?”
“By joining me for lunch.”
“I wasn’t planning on taking a lunch. Being at the meeting and learning more about CANN was very beneficial, but it took a chunk out of my workday.”
Lauren came out from behind her desk to place a book on the history of casinos and the Las Vegas Strip back on the office’s well-organized shelves. “I think I’ll go online, check out the restaurant menus and have something delivered.”
When she turned, Christian was there, a hair’s breadth away. “It’s not good to work on an empty stomach,” he whispered. “I think we should...eat.”
He leaned over and removed the inch of distance between their mouths, capturing the lips that back in the boardroom had driven him insane. Lauren responded as he’d hoped she would, stepping closer, her hands running up his chest to encircle his neck. He brought his hand up to the delicious peaks that he loved to swirl with his tongue, slid his hand beneath her top and under her bra. Lauren moaned. His manhood swelled. She began grinding against it, undid his belt and reached for his zipper. The movement made him as hard as a rock. Then she stopped.
“No,” she mumbled, stepping away from him. “We can’t do that. I can’t. Not here, not now. There’s still so much uncertainty, so much to work out.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I wanted it. I still do.”
“Lunch, then...” Lauren shook her head. “No private room. I’ll even do fast food in the main casino, surrounded by hundreds of tourists and clanging slot machines.”
“Somehow that’s impossible to envision. You being handed a hot dog and fries in a paper bag.”
“If it meant spending more time with you,” he drawled, “I’d eat the paper bag.”
Lauren returned to her chair behind the desk. “You’re not making this easy.”
“I hope not.”
She walked around the desk and reached for her purse. “Where are we going?”
His smile was as bright as sunshine. “That’s my girl.”
They bypassed the upscale food court and settled on a restaurant boasting American fusion cuisine and run by a celebrity chef. They ordered
their meals and in a mutual yet unspoken agreement climbed above the touchier matters to safe, innocuous subjects.
Lauren stopped eating a scrumptious salmon salad and wiped her mouth. “Did you ever want to do anything else?” At his genuinely confused look, she added, “You know, besides working for the family business?”
Christian smiled and shook his head. “No, never. From my earliest memories, I worshipped Dad, wanted to be just like him, do everything he did. I vividly remember getting my first suit—three piece, navy—an exact replica of one that he wore. I cried when it was time for bed and Mom said to take it off. She had to threaten me with a spanking before I obeyed her.”
“Oh my gosh! How old were you?”
Christian rubbed his chin. “Three, almost four.”
“I can only imagine. You were a handful.”
He fixed her with a look. “I still am.”
The atmosphere shifted. Both tried to ignore it. But when they simultaneously reached for the salt and their fingers touched, the truth couldn’t be denied. The attraction was still there—strong, powerful and hotter than ever.
Twenty-One
Strained didn’t begin to describe the next few weeks. Lauren saw Christian more than ever. They worked out a deal for her participation in the Djibouti CANN Island project. Not much work, really. Christian made her an offer she’d be a fool to refuse. She’d earn twice the money that she’d made anywhere else while putting in fewer hours for CANN International and enjoying the perks of a full-time employee.
Only once had he asked about her father and Ed, and if she’d told them about the fake marriage. He was constantly traveling and immersed in plans for CANN Island. Work seemed to have pushed what happened to the back of his mind. For Lauren, however, the situation remained at the forefront and continued to loom large over her happiness. Ed continued to harass her, threatening to out her father’s dark deed and calling her marriage to Christian a sham. “Why can’t I find anything online?” he’d asked. This weekend he’d have his answer. Lauren would tell the truth and let the chips fall where they may.