No. I needed rest. I needed to get some sleep so I could wake up with a clear head. In the morning I’d feel better, more rational.
I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror as I paced, realizing that I was still wearing the torn shirt from that night. A smile formed on my lips as I thought back to the incident with the mule, how I’d rushed in like an idiot while Isla had effortlessly handled the situation. If there had been any doubt in my mind that there was something special about her, that certainly dispelled it.
I slipped out of my shirt, giving the flat plane of my abs a look-over to make sure that I hadn’t been hurt in a way that the adrenaline and the booze and the rush from being around Isla were causing me to ignore. But I was unscathed.
A shower and a change later, I was in my pajama pants and under the covers. Right at the moment I turned the lights off, I remembered the other situation of the day—that of the factory and how the board would react.
But that could wait. And try as I might, I couldn’t hold the subject in my mind for more than a moment or two before thoughts of Isla returned, the sound of her laughter lulling me off into a deep, restful sleep.
Chapter 15
Isla
A quick knock sounded at the door to my suite, startling me out of my work.
“What the…”
The words shot out of my mouth, and as soon as they did, I teased myself for saying them.
Someone’s at the door, I thought as I got up. Not like they’re breaking in. Get a grip, girl.
But there was still the matter of who it might’ve been. It was a little after nine in the morning, and I hadn’t ordered room service or anything like that.
Then it occurred to me, the most obvious answer in the world—Adam. Was he really this eager to get a start on our Christmas together? I’d almost been worried that he was only spending the day with me out of a sense of obligation, or because he felt bad for me. As I made my way to the door, I smiled at the thought that he was just as excited about the day as I was.
A quick glance through the peephole revealed that, sure enough, it was him. And he had something under his arm that I sure didn’t expect—a freaking Christmas tree!
I quickly opened up the door, and he greeted me with a broad smile.
“Merry Christmas!” he said.
“Merry Christmas!” I replied, now noticing that he not only had a tree in one arm, but a few bags dangling off the other.
I stepped away from the door and gestured for him to come in, noticing that he had a sheen of sweat on his forehead, a few stray strands of his otherwise-perfect hair hanging down in a way that was actually pretty damn sexy in a disheveled sort of way.
Stop thinking about him like that, Isla, I thought as he stepped into the room. You’ve got a whole day to spend with him. Keep yourself in check starting now.
Adam slid the bags off his arm and onto the counter of the kitchenette. Once that was done, he set the tree near the window, framing it perfectly in the view.
Then a serious expression flashed on his face and he pointed to my computer.
“That’s…my laptop,” I said, confused. “Why?”
“What’s on it?”
I realized what he was getting at.
“Just…a little work.”
He shook his head, the smile returning.
“Sorry,” he said. “None of that today.”
I was more than fine with this order from the boss. I saved my work and closed the computer, then my eyes turned to the bags that he’d brought in.
“Okay,” I said. “What’s going on with all of this stuff?”
“Well,” he said, wiping the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand. “It’s Christmas. And what’s Christmas without a tree?”
The man had a point. And it was a really nice tree at that—small but full, with a classic “Christmassy” shape to it.
“And what about all that?” I asked, gesturing to the bags.
The smile on his face suggested he’d been waiting for me to ask.
“Okay,” he said as he stepped over to them. “I was thinking about our plane ride over, and how nice it was.”
“Sure,” I said, agreeing.
“But something had been missing. So, I went and found it.”
He reached into the bag and pulled out a glass jug of something white that appeared to be milk but wasn’t—closer to beige in color, with black flecks. The label on the bottle was in Portuguese, so that was no help.
Then it hit me.
“Is that…”
“Eggnog,” he said. “Not easy to find on Christmas morning in Rio, but I can be resourceful when I want to be.”
“You certainly can,” I said. “You found stores that were open?”
“Believe it or not, I did. Had to go a little into the city to find them, though.”
I had to admit it—I was impressed.
He reached in the bag and pulled out another bottle, this one more ornate and full of a brown liquid.
“And if you’re feeling it later, we can always add a secret ingredient.”
“Brandy?” I asked.
“You got it.”
I could already almost taste it—the rich creaminess of the eggnog and the sharp spice of the brandy.
“A little right now?” he asked.
“Of course,” I said, grinning.
He poured us each a glass and handed one to me, raising his own for a toast.
“To a wonderful Christmas,” he said with a smile.
“To a…Feliz Natal,” I replied, remembering the words from our adventure last night.
We tapped our glassed and sipped. Damn, it was good. Maybe even as good as homemade.
“Have you eaten?” he asked.
“Nope. Just been sipping on coffee since I woke up.”
“Perfect. Because—”
Another knock at the door cut him off.
“What’s that?” I asked.
“You’ll see.”
He stepped over to the door and opened it up. On the other side was a hotel employee, a white-cloth-topped food cart at his side. The man wheeled in the cart and Adam thanked and paid him. I could tell by the man’s reaction that whatever Adam tipped was very generous.
Once he was gone Adam continued.
“Now,” he said. “I told you last night that my dad was something of a workaholic.”
“Right.”
“But he was always very, very big on breakfast—especially Sunday breakfasts and holiday breakfasts. And he actually cooked them.”
The lids were still on the trays so I couldn’t see what they were, but I could smell delicious meat and…something else.
“And my favorite was what he called the ‘working man’s breakfast’—something that was supposed to give you energy for the day. Since we’ve got a whole day ahead of us, I figured it’d be both in keeping with the holidays and a practical idea.”
“I can’t argue with that stellar reasoning.”
At my words, Adam lifted the lids of the food, revealing two delicious-looking plates of eggs, bacon, sliced fruit, and pancakes. The smell was incredible, and the hunger that I’d been ignoring all morning arrived with a vengeance. It took all the restraint I had to not drool.
“Part of me was thinking that we ought to do something a little more ‘Brazilian’ for Christmas breakfast, but you can’t go wrong with all-American, huh?”
The food looked so good that I could barely set aside the brainpower to speak.
“You’re right,” I finally got out, my eyes still on the food.
“Okay,” he said. “Then let’s get to it because there’s still more.”
“More?”
He nodded.
“Christmas surprise.”
I was undeniably curious, but I was also really, really hungry. Adam set the plates on the table and I dug right in.
God, it was as good as it looked. The eggs were fluffy and cheesy, the bacon was the perfect amount of crispiness, and the p
ancakes drenched in syrup were a total dream.
“This is amazing,” I said, taking in the eggnog and the breakfast and the tree. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Don’t need to say anything. Just enjoy.”
I turned and gave his arm a soft squeeze.
“Thanks,” I said.
“You’re welcome.”
My hand lingered on his arm long enough for me to note how solid his muscles were. The discovery sent a blush to my cheeks and caused me to pull my arm back quickly—which was embarrassing in and of itself. But if he noticed, he didn’t say anything.
“You’re my Secret Santa,” I said.
“Nothing secret about it,” he replied. “And besides, for me to really be a Santa, I’d have to have brought you a present.”
I took one more bite of my pancakes before setting my fork down and waving my hand through the air.
“This is more than enough,” I said. “You’ve already outdone yourself.”
“Is that right?” he asked, setting his fork down. “So, hypothetically, if I were to have bought you a little something, you’d tell me to take it back?”
“Adam,” I said. “I mean Mr. Forde. I hope you’re not saying what I think you are.”
“Isla. You should know by now that ‘Adam’ is fine.”
He took one more sip of coffee before getting up and stepping over to the bags. After a little rustling around, he reached in and pulled something out—a shoebox.
“I couldn’t help but think about your impressive display last night,” he said. “And how I’ve never met a woman who could successfully tame a wild beast like that.”
Did he…?
“So,” he said. “I figured you’d appreciate this.”
He handed the box toward me and I regarded it for a moment, stunned. Finally, I gathered my senses and took it.
“Now,” he said. “I know mismatched is something of your Christmas style, but…”
I set the box down on the table and opened it up, revealing a gorgeous pair of black shoes with small heels—just like the ones I’d ruined last night, only far fancier. Still stunned, I took one out and held it, noticing right away how beautiful it was.
“Adam,” I said. “You didn’t have to.”
“I did, and there’s nothing else to be said. Now, try it on.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. I kicked off my right slipper and put my foot into the shoe. It fit perfectly, like it was made for my foot and mine alone. Once the first one was on, I repeated the process with the second.
“They’re amazing, Adam,” I said, loving the sound of his name out loud. “Thank you so much.”
“You’re very welcome.”
I shook my head, my eyes still on the shoes.
“I just wish I had something for you,” I said. “I feel like you have me at a disadvantage.”
“Don’t even worry about it,” he said. “You’ve got a whole year to make it up to me.”
He winked, letting me know he was only messing around.
I was full and happy.
“Now,” I said. “There’s only the matter of figuring out what we’re going to be doing today.”
“That’s the question,” he said. “But…I have an idea.”
With that he took out his phone and fiddled with it. After a few moments Christmas music began playing through the small speakers—Christmas music in English.
“A little music always helps me think,” he said.
“Good call.”
I felt so silly, but even though we’d only been abroad for a day, the music from home was so pleasant and familiar. Adam seemed to always know the right thing to say or do.
“And now I’m thinking about something else,” he said.
“What’s that?”
He answered my question by extending his hand toward me. I knew right away what he meant.
Dancing with the boss? I thought. This could be a bad idea.
Maybe I was right. But at that moment everything was so perfect I couldn’t dream of turning him down. I took his hand and he gently lifted me to my feet, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me close.
It was…so much. The feeling of his solid body against mine, his arm around me, the woody scent of his cologne… My heart began to race in stark contrast to the gentle strains of the music.
Of course, he was a good dancer. Not like we were doing anything crazy, but his assured movements and the way he held me put me at ease, made me feel like right there in his arms was where I was supposed to be.
“So,” he said. “We need to figure out what we’re going to do today.”
“The music helping you think?”
“Something like that.”
Silence passed.
“We could…go to the beach,” I suggested.
“They do have a beach here,” he said. “Many, in fact. Maybe if we went today we’d get one all to ourselves.”
I smiled at the idea. Then, without me even thinking about it, I gently set my head on Adam’s shoulder.
Bad idea, my brain said again. Bad-bad-bad idea.
“Or we could check out the older parts of town,” he offered. “Take a tour of some of the landmarks. Maybe we could even find a local to show us around.”
“That could be nice,” I said, my eyes closed, a smile on my lips.
“Or we could take the car up out away from the city, take in some nature.”
“Mhmm.”
More time passed, Adam holding me as we slowly swayed to the music.
“Any of that sound good?”
It does, I thought. But then again, I’m feeling good just being right here, in your arms.
More silence.
“Is that right?”
Adam’s words sent a jolt through my body. Did he…did he read my mind?
I took my head from his shoulder and looked up at him with wide eyes.
“What?” I asked. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“Thinking?” he asked, confused. “You mean what you just said?”
Oh, no. I hadn’t thought it—I’d actually said it.
Panic exploded through my body, my face going as hot as a stove. The feelings I’d been trying to keep hidden to myself had just come pouring out in such a way that there was no denying how I felt.
“Mr. Forde,” I said, stammering. “Adam. I…”
But he wasn’t mad. He wasn’t put off. He didn’t even seem to be surprised.
Instead he only smiled.
“Did you mean what you said?” he asked.
Two options—lie and hope he believed me, or tell the truth.
In for a penny…
“I…did.”
He didn’t say anything else. Instead he took my chin in his hand, gently titled my face up, and slowly kissed me on the lips.
Chapter 16
Isla
I couldn’t believe what was happening. Adam Forde was kissing me, holding me close, his tongue moving over mine. It was shocking and thrilling and so sexy all at the same time.
The kiss went on for minutes, neither one of us wanting to take our lips away. Adam and his touch and his taste completely consumed my thoughts, but through it all I knew that for all the talking and planning, I could’ve easily spent the entire day right there, just like that.
Finally, Adam took his lips from mine.
“Isla,” he said, his voice low, his gorgeous green eyes fixed on me.
He said nothing for a long moment, and panic began to set it. I was positive, absolutely positive that he was going to put a stop to things, that he’d tell me that both of us had just made a huge mistake. He’d come to his senses, and now things between us were doomed to be nothing but awkward.
“Y…yes?” I asked, afraid to ask, knowing it might result in an answer I didn’t want to hear.
“This is wonderful,” he said. “But I can’t help but wonder if you want more.”
More. If my heart was beating quickly
before, it was like a jackhammer after that single word.
I knew what that meant. I could be a touch socially clueless at times, but even I understood the subtext. And it wasn’t simply an offer—it was a chance to backpedal. I could very easily say that maybe we’d gone too far already and it might be a good idea to put the brakes on what was happening.
But that wasn’t at all what I wanted.
I wanted more.
“I…do.”
He smiled, clearly pleased with my answer.
“Okay,” he said. “Then come with me.”
Before we went to wherever he had in mind, Adam leaned in and kissed me softly, deeply, one more time. Then he took me by the hand and guided me into the bedroom of my suite. Once inside, he opened the blinds just enough to bathe the room with soft, late-morning light. The effect was dreamy and beautiful.
Then Adam approached me, placing his hands on my hips and regarding me again from his substantial height.
“I’ve really wanted this,” I said, the words slipping out.
I felt silly as soon as I said them. What if this was nothing more than a whim for him? If so, I’d just admitted that I had a crush on him.
But his answer came in the form of another kiss. I didn’t mind. He was a damn good kisser, and this kiss had subtext—that being both of us wanted more than just a kiss.
Neither of us wasted any time in getting right to exactly what it was that we both craved.
Adam kissed me deeply as we moved closer and closer toward the bed. I was lost in his kiss and his touch and his scent, barely noticing as my leg bumped against the mattress. Once we were there, he wrapped his arm around me again, just as he’d done during our dance. This time, however, instead of dancing he gently guided me onto the bed, laying me down on my back, my hair spreading all around me.
Then he climbed on top of me, his stunningly handsome face seemingly to glow from the sunlight. But he didn’t move, didn’t kiss me. He just…looked.
“What?” I asked, worrying for a moment that something was wrong.
“Nothing,” he said. “Just taking in how beautiful you are.”
Oh wow. I didn’t know what to say.
But that didn’t matter—Adam’s lips were soon on mine again, this time his hands moving down over my blouse and undoing the buttons one by one and pulling the shirt open, the room air cool against my skin. My hands were still shaking from the excitement and nervousness, but I still had the motor skills and confidence to grab the white T-shirt he wore by the hem and pull it up over his shoulders.
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