bsp; Needing a break from mentally chasing her own tail, she pulled her phone out of her bag and powered it up. And immediately regretted it. Amid texts from a supplier, a designer, and a photo of a bridesmaid’s dress from Chelsea with a caption containing a thumbs-up, a thumbs-down, and a question mark, were a voicemail from her mother and four messages from her father.
She swiped the first text from Luc. The screen opened to a series of text bubbles.
Your brother tells me you need breathing room. I’m arriving tomorrow. We can discuss.
Her stress level spiked. And then spiked again as she read the next bubble.
Also, we’re having dinner with the Templetons at 9 p.m. Possible co-venture in the Bahamas. More common ground with the nephew.
Luc-speak for, “Here’s your chance to do something strategic in your personal life.”
After dinner, I want to review your vision for my hotel. I have some ideas.
The next message had come in two hours later.
Tell your mother she needs to sign off on the tax forms I sent her before the end of the month.
And then, forty minutes ago,
Where are you? Call me.
Her palms started to sweat. Four little texts announced one hard fact in no uncertain terms. Her escape from real life was definitely coming to an end. Soon. Her father’s imminent arrival already encroached. Vacation over.
Not yet. Not quite yet. The question was, did she want to squeeze as much fun as possible into the time she had left, or not?
If fun was all she wanted, inviting the man to spend the night might not be such a bad idea. But that’s not all there was to it. She wanted to curl up with him in the dark and talk, drift off to sleep with her cheek on his chest and the sound of his heartbeat as her lullaby. She wanted to wake up in his arms.
You’re in uncharted territory here.
And that’s why it was a bad idea. Missing vacation orgasms once a girl got back to real life was understandable, but what if she missed waking up in his arms?
Who says he even wants to spend the night with you?
Good point. She dropped the pretense of reading her messages, tossed her phone into her bag, and glanced at him. He stared straight ahead, one hand at six o’clock on the steering wheel, the other absently tracing a pattern on her thigh. Nothing in his relaxed posture suggested he was brooding, but he’d been mostly quiet on the drive back.
As if he sensed her attention, he turned and sent her a strangely serious smile. “Have dinner with me tomorrow night. I know this place in Kaanapali. Local chef. Great food. Dancing on the patio.” He gave her another quick glance, his eyes amused now. “I’ll put on a suit. Clean myself up and demonstrate I’m good for more than just outdoor adventures and making you come.”
Dinner and dancing, like a real date? Her heart skipped like a kid at recess, then tripped and sank into her stomach as responsibilities reasserted themselves. “My father asked me to join him and some business associates tomorrow evening at nine.” The idea of missing a chance to see him left her chest tight and breathless. She’d make excuses to her dad. “I could—”
“Have an early dinner with me beforehand. I’ll come to you if that’s easiest. We can order room service.”
Had she just demoted this to a booty call? She’d loved the idea of dinner and dancing. How could she let him know? “Will you still wear a suit? I’m a sucker for good suit porn.” Okay. That was not it. Referencing porn didn’t hit the romance bull’s-eye.
The corner of his mouth turned up as he nodded. “I’ll break out the French cuffs. And I’ll still dance with you.”
God, he was good. Her heart climbed back into her chest. He wanted to see her, too, enough to adjust the plans for her. “You’ve got yourself a date.”
“Good. Does five thirty work?”
“Five thirty is perfect. Spend the night tonight.”
Holy crap, Arden. Don’t bother with a lead-in. Just blurt it out.
The hand on her leg stilled. He said nothing for a long moment, his expression unreadable, and then that mouth kicked up again. “I thought you’d never ask.”
Everything inside her relaxed. The fun wasn’t over yet. Yes, the little voice in her head still warned she was wandering deeper into an unmapped landscape she might not find her way out of so easily, but she made a deal with herself to chart her position later. The hand sliding between her knees demanded her full attention, dragging her back to territory with which she was become intimately familiar.
“I left a mark on you here.” His fingers drifted along her inner thigh and smoothed over an area his whiskers had reddened.