With the storm, so many employees were unable to make their shifts, which meant the ones stuck here were pulling overtime for the foreseeable future.
And that meant Stella would be running from one end of Mirage to the other, taking little time for herself—if any. He’d make sure his mother’s resort was running just fine, the guests were happy, and Stella’s needs were met...every single one.
The worker turned his radio down and started looking over the area with the generators. Dane stood back and crossed his arms over his chest, calculating and contemplating.
“These are all set to go,” Dane assured him. “Aren’t you going to the dining area to help?”
The boy shrugged. “Other workers will help out.”
Dane stared at the back of the guy’s head and clenched his jaw to keep from yelling at the boy for his lazy, entitled attitude. In due time. This jerk had no clue who Dane was or that he’d be fired for that earlier comment as soon as Dane was in charge.
“This is all covered,” Dane stated once again. “You and I can both pitch in. This is a nasty storm and every employee here needs to help anywhere they can.”
The other guy stood up and turned, his brows drawn in. “I thought Mitch was over maintenance. What’s your position?”
Higher than yours, asshole.
“Miss Garcia is waiting on help.” Dane gestured toward the doorway. “Let’s go.”
Dane thought there was going to be an argument, but the guy finally nodded and headed out the door. There was no need to let Stella know about her lazy employee, but Dane wouldn’t forget the kid.
By the time they got to the dining area, several employees, all dressed in black, were already bustling around and setting sprigs of evergreen and simple white votives on each of the tables. The lunch decor was quite a bit different than the dinner ambience. For one thing, it was a lot busier. Many couples chose to eat in their room or one of the fantasy rooms during the evening.
There were little changes Dane saw that hadn’t been implemented while his mother had been here. The changing of decor being one of them. He liked the touches Stella put on the place—no doubt with her father’s permission. The idea of giving the guests a different restaurant feel each time was smart.
The more he saw of Stella—the way she ran this place, the way she actually cared and wasn’t just in this for money or recognition—the more he wondered what his mother would’ve thought of her.
Not that there was any reason to wonder, really. He knew exactly what she’d have thought.
Lara would’ve loved Stella.
Dane crossed the dining room and cursed himself. What the hell did he care what his mother would’ve thought of Stella? The thought was absolutely irrelevant. Stella and her father weren’t going to be part of Mirage much longer and Lara would be proud of Dane for getting back what belonged to him.
There she was. Across the room against the two-story windows encased with stone. Stella had on another one of those sexy little dresses that stopped at her knee...this one in red that made her look only more exotic with that dark skin and hair.
Instead of her usual brown boots, she had on black. There were several inches of bare skin between the top of her boot and the hem of her dress. He clenched his fists, aching to touch her.
Soon, he promised himself.
Stella turned to talk to an employee, pointing in the direction of the kitchen, then she nodded and spun back around. He watched for only a minute before she shifted that dark gaze to him. Even from across the room he could read her body language. She was exhausted, but running on pure determination.
She offered him a soft smile and the gesture hit him square in the gut. Out of this crowd of people she focused on him and the unspoken bond that they shared shouldn’t have his heart clenching, but damn it...
There was no room for distractions, no matter how tempting and captivating. He wanted her physically, something he hadn’t expected. But he could at least control the passion. Desire and sex were easy—as long as he stayed in control, kept himself from getting too attached and kept her away from his ugly scars.
The true problem came from all the other unwanted, unexplained feelings that were flooding in before he had a chance to shut the damn door on his emotions.
Hadn’t he locked that once already? How the hell had this woman, in such a short amount of time, managed to kick it down?
Dane made his way across the room, circling the tables and weaving through chairs not quite set in place yet. Once he reached her, Dane used every ounce of his willpower not to reach out and touch her or to pull her out of this room so he could force her to rest.
But resting wasn’t Stella’s style. They were cut from the same proverbial cloth in that they didn’t rest when there was still work to be done.
“All hands on deck, huh?” he asked when she came to stand right before him.
With a smile and a nod, she replied, “Something like that.”
“What do you want?”