It was unsettling to be so attracted to another person, and he didn’t want to make a mistake driven purely by lust. He had to remember that Gemma wasn’t here to find love but as a means to further her career. But wasn’t that what he was doing as well? The only reason he agreed to meet her was to pitch the idea of affiliation. He’d never intended to sell, and a part of her must’ve known that. She’d been sent on an impossible task. They were more alike than he could’ve imagined. Neither of them gave into their own desires. Both wielded work like an emotional shield. What if they could lower it though, if only for one night?
Chapter 7
“Is the charm part of the tour, or an exclusive perk?” She shot him a saucy grin, full of false confidence, while her heart galloped inside her chest. The knowledge that she could very easily fall for Zale made her mouth go as dry as chalk.
He paused and cleared his throat. Then he leaned closer, intimately shrinking the space between them. “The exclusivity is yours alone, but it’s Gemma I want to know more about—Dalton Hotels aside.” His gaze intensified, and a warm pull traveled through her belly. “If the situation was different, if Carris Retreats weren’t in the picture, would you have accepted my invitation for a bike ride?”
Suddenly, the energy around them snapped as the air grew heavy. Gemma considered his words and carefully chose hers. Their conversation was meandering down a slippery path, but she always did her best to be honest, transparent. “I’m not sure. I certainly would have been flattered to be asked, but if we weren’t in this context, my answer, most likely, would have been no.” Zale’s shoulders stiffened as she decided to confide in him a little. “My mind is focused on the promotion, and Zale, you must know what a distraction you are.” She paused and swallowed several times, as his pupils expanded, black overtaking the clear blue. Admitting her attraction to Zale unlocked a sliver of something wanton and a bit greedy inside of her. A part of her that wanted to throw caution into the churning ocean, consequences be damned.
“I have no doubt that you’ll conquer your goals. How could you not?” His voice was low and deep, sending a spiral of lust careening down her spine. “You have an eye for hotels, and running them. You’re independent, and sharp-minded. But what about the woman who loves mangy dogs, fantasy novels, and bucket-sized sangrias? Would she say yes to the bike ride, maybe something more?”
Gemma stilled even as her heart batted wildly against her ribs. He’d called her breathtaking, independent, and sharp-minded and it had her blood singing. What shook her the most though, was that he listened to her likes, hobbies, and joys. Not only that, but he remembered clearly enough to tick them off one by one. And then he’d asked if she wanted more. How could she say no when every fiber of her being was begging to climb out of her skin and worship every inch of him?
For the first time in a long time, Gemma felt heard. She felt seen.
She involuntarily licked her lips and locked eyes with Zale. “The bike, and the more, are appealing.” She paused for a moment, and then continued. “Every ounce of spark I have goes to the betterment of the hotels. For the first time in a while, I want something just for me. Or someone, rather.” She looked down at her hands, then back at Zale. Lust was a living thing running wild in his eyes. They held the gaze for one breath, then two, energy and anticipation filling the gaps between them. For once, she felt a bit reckless. Adrenaline coursed through her, and there was a lightness in her chest she didn’t recognize. Zale made her feel like a woman.
“You have plenty of spark, Gemma.” Zale leaned forward, his expression intense. She didn’t want to let on how pleased his compliment made her, but she was unable to control her lips from widening. “I have four rules I live by when it comes to my guests. I’ve broken nearly every one since you arrived on the island.” The chair scraped against the patio as Zale moved his chair closer to the table, closer to her. His bare knee touched her outer thigh lightly,
“Oh?” she questioned in a breathless voice. “You can’t say that and not elaborate. What are the rules?” A breeze caressed her cheek, offering a little relief from the early afternoon heat.
“The first is never cross the line between friendly and friends with a guest. Sometimes it’s easy to forget you’re there to serve them, but I don’t regret becoming friends with you—even if I should. The second stems from the first—never fraternize with the guests outside of the resort, which I admittedly broke when I asked you to tour the island. The third, always maintain composure—something I’ve found to be rather difficult the past few days. I couldn’t begin to imagine why.” A whisper of a smile played around his lips, and his eyes twinkled.
“And the fourth?” she asked before she could lose the nerve.
He dropped his voice to a low, almost sultry octave. “Never be intimate with a guest.”
Like the earlier breeze, his words caressed Gemma, and everything inside her pooled like melted wax.
She leaned forward, Dalton Hotels tucked in the farthest part of her mind. “Have you ever broken them before?” This was a new type of foreplay, one she was enjoying far too much.
“I’ve never been tempted to.” He paused, eyes locked on her face. “Until now.”
The breath rushed out of her. They hadn’t touched, not even the slightest brush of skin, but she was utterly undone. His eyes dropped to her lips, studied them, and returned his gaze to hers. Beneath the surface of her heated skin, nerves pulsated with anticipation, as Zale angled his head and slowly took his time leaning in toward her. Their noses brushed slightly, and then his mouth was parted against hers. His tongue played over her bottom lip, and a pull of desire warmed in her stomach. His tongue was slightly cold from the ice cream and tasted just as sweet. The delicious scent of his cologne teased her nose, and she found herself trying to breathe him in—a difficult task while kissing. She put one hand on his shoulder and the other on his knee to steady herself. His large palm gripped the back of her neck firmly, and she angled her head to deepen the kiss. When she’d become nearly dizzy with pleasure, Zale leaned back a fraction of an inch, breaking their connection, and surprised her by placing his forehead briefly against hers.
“That was immensely unprofessional, and I don’t regret it in the least.” His intense gaze stirred up squall of emotions within her. Her breath was faster than she would’ve liked, but she was exhilarated by what had just transpired between them, even if it was rash. She couldn’t deny she wanted to kiss him again, right here, out in the open. Having his lips pressed against hers only worsened the empty ache inside her. She wanted to feel more. She wanted to feel everything.
“Where do we go from here?” Her hand was still on his knee, the fabric of his pants lightly gripped between her fingers.
“How do you feel about Bermuda?” The twinkle in his eye combined with his words shot a bolt of lightning straight to her toes.
Could she really toss her responsibilities to the side and have Zale to herself? Put her needs above her priorities? Her pulse drummed in her throat. She’d already failed to entice Zale to sell, but it hadn’t come as a shock. Pitching the opportunity of an affiliation might save the situation. For now though, her work was done. Maybe she could take a day or two for herself. She’d been jumping through hoops for her grandfather for what seemed like a lifetime. Pain radiated through her jaw as she clenched her teeth. She highly doubted the other candidate for the COO position had to go to the same lengths to be considered for the job. The board had known Zale would never sell, because he’d told them so months ago. Were they trying to remove her from the picture for a few days to plan with the other candidate, all the while laughing at how she’d desperately try to get Zale to sell? Anger burned up her throat. She’d be proud to present the affiliation once Zale drafted the proposal, but for now she was considering taking this time for her own.
“Tempted.” She breathed him in, those sultry black currant and bergamot notes going straight to her head, leaving her woozy. “Intrigued.” Who did this husky
siren’s voice belong to? Certainly not her. A thrill spun through her as Zale’s focus dropped to her lips, then back to her eyes, smoldering intensity and insatiable hunger exploding in the depths. A shiver raced through her, tightening and caressing places inside her that she didn’t know existed. Her clothes were suddenly too constricting, and she was uncomfortably aware of the material against her breasts and thighs.
“I want you, Gemma. Every part of me feels like it’s been waiting a lifetime to touch you.
I’ve never done this before. Talk like this, consider something like this, with a woman I’ve only known for a week. Tell me I’m not alone. That I’m not the only one who feels reckless.” He trailed his fingers along her jaw line, down her neck, and everything around them blurred and faded.
She made a low sound in the back of her throat. “Reckless is too mild of a word. No one’s ever affected me like this.” Tension simmered between them, snapping back and forth between their gaze. If she wasn’t so drunk with desire, she would’ve been embarrassed about the display they were putting on for the pedestrians walking down the street. Right now, though? Her mind was only on one thing. The way Zale was looking at her. “We should go back. I have an overnight bag to pack.”
A grin bloomed over Zale’s face, his fingers gently wrapping around the nape of her neck, drawing her closer. He was still smiling when his lips pressed to hers, their teeth bumped lightly together as he kissed her, angling his head to take her mouth deep. When they broke apart, he feathered a kiss on the tip of her nose before moving back. The gesture was sweet and intimate, a contrast to the heated kisses they’d shared. It warmed something foreign inside her. Something that spoke to deeper emotions than a quick fling. Falling for Zale wasn’t an option. Just because she couldn’t get him to sell his hotels didn’t mean she was giving up on the position she’d worked so hard for. She’d present his offer of affiliation at the board meeting, and lay out all the reasons why she was the best choice for the job. Knowing the old boys club though, perhaps it wouldn’t be enough.
Hands linked, they walked through the downtown area. Neither payed much attention to the quaint shops, more focused on hushed whispers and fervent glimpses.
They retrieved the bicycles and started off in the opposite direction than they’d come. Zale rode ahead of her on the thin, single-file trail. Her eyes were glued to the sculpted male physique directly in front of her, and the clench of his muscles as he pedaled made it hard to concentrate on the lovely scenery. Gemma forced her gaze away from his broad shoulders. Up ahead, a grand nineteenth-century estate stood proudly against the Vineyard Sound. When they drew closer, she eased on the brakes and let the soles of her shoes scrape against the pavement until she rolled to a stop.
“What an incredible building.” It had been a long time since she’d engaged in such vigorous physical activity, and her legs were wobbly and sore. Never mind the way Zale had knocked her off her feet with stolen kisses and words that sent her pulse flying.
“The Whipple Mansion,” Zale said easily, with one foot firmly planted on the ground and the other casually resting against a pedal. “It’s been in the Whipple family for generations, but they’ve moved off the island. I hope they’ll sell it to someone who is able to afford the historic restoration.”
“So many windows. And that wraparound porch. Just wow. The views must be stunning.” A gust of wind flowed over her, and she winced. Her cheeks felt tight and tingly. Too much time out in the sun.
“They are,” Zale said, eyes glowing with appreciation. “I was lucky to get a tour as a child, and I’ll never forget it. Magnificent coffered ceilings, hand-crafted millwork, three floors with at least twelve bedrooms.”
“What’s stopping you from buying it?” She studied his profile as he admired the property. He held himself well, a man who was self-assured and had made significant achievements. He was a man who needed to be in control, but beneath that, he was humble and compassionate. If he were anyone else, she wouldn’t have accepted the invitation to Bermuda. Then again, she’d never met a man so much like herself. Focused. Decisive. Competitive.
“I’m putting my resources into another project at the moment.” He reluctantly looked away from the colonial exterior. When Zale began to ride on, her stomach flip-flopped. In less than twenty-four hours, she’d be following through with the most self-serving decision she’d ever made.
She could hardly wait.
Chapter 8
A Rolls Royce from the resort was waiting for them when they landed at L.F. Wade International Airport. Even the chartered flight had been made better with Gemma’s presence. They’d talked about everything and nothing, laughing over the crazy things they’d seen in the hospitality industry. Underneath their companionable chatter though, was a hum of excitement over what was to come. The luxurious car zipped along the narrow roadways on the coast of the South Shore. Gemma had the back window open, and the refreshing breeze perfumed the cab with the powdery scent of oleander. Hedges lined the road, ripe with showy blooms, only to be outdone by swaying palm trees—some tall and wispy, others stout and lush.
“It’s so beautiful here.” Gemma looked past the flora, out to the pink sand beaches and aqua waters, a combination that had always reminded him of cotton candy swirls. “I’d forgotten how it feels to have no responsibilities, even if it’s only for a little while.”
He played with the silky tips of her hair, and she turned to toss a smile at him. “The journey is lovely, but I’m more concerned with the destination.” Her laugh filled the cab of the car, driving a smile to his lips. It had been years since he felt this light and free.
“In a rush?” Sunlight reflected against the gilded sparkle of her eyes.
“Maybe a little.” They passed by stone houses saturated in shades of pastel, by glossy yachts that skimmed over the placid water, commanding attention.
“I had a sleepless night thinking of the way your lips felt on mine,” she said tracing the soft pad of her thumb over his bottom lip.
“I don’t think I’ve had a good night’s sleep since you walked into my lobby in those red stilettos.” The scenery melted by in a blur. All he was interested in looking at was Gemma. She wore white capris that hugged her body and a linen top that ruffled around her breasts and left her shoulders bare.
“You remember what shoes I was wearing?” she gaped up at him.
“Remember them?” He touched his lips to hers, and a tingle resonated across his skin. “The image of those heels haunts me.”
“I’m glad I threw them in my carry-on.” The grin on her face was full of mischief.
“You’re going to keep me on my toes, aren’t you?” His heart beat double time when she looked up at him like that.
“Among other things.”
“Whatever we do—whatever we don’t—is your choice. I won’t push you for anything you’re uncomfortable with. Do you understand?” They couldn’t get to the resort fast enough, but she needed to know that if she changed her mind, he’d accept her decision without question.
“I know you wouldn’t. You have too much honor for that. We haven’t known each other long, but I know I can trust you.” Her words settled the last of his nerves. Once the initial shock of what they were doing had worn off, he resolved to just enjoy. The anticipation of having Gemma to himself left a hollow flutter in his stomach.
In the distance, a blush-colored château rose up from the hillside like a sand castle overlooking the transparent waters below. As they neared the resort, lounge chairs shaded by oversized straw umbrellas came into view. The time it took for the car to round the drive and stop under the portico seemed to take centuries, and once the vehicle was safely stopped, he slipped the driver a sizable tip and helped Gemma out of the passenger side.
Her hand trembled slightly as she reached him, so he looped an arm around her waist and together they entered the magnificent foyer. Stone pillars separated the lobby’s marble floor from a lush courtyard where small palms and fl
owers grew amongst man-made brooks. Crystal pendant lighting dripped from the ceiling like frozen rain drops, and deep urns overflowed with orchid stems and stalks of bird of paradise. They checked in quickly, barely paying attention as the front desk agent described how they could walk off their patio and right onto the beach. Without saying a word, they took their keycard and made their way to the west wing of the resort.
When they arrived at the door to their suite, Zale steadied his hand and slid the keycard into the lock. The handle easily turned, and he held the door for Gemma before following her inside.
They stood at the entryway for one breath, then two as the tension and anticipation of the moment swelled between them. He took a step forward and caressed the length of her arm, stopping her from going deeper inside. “Are you okay, kósmimá mou?” Zale asked.
“A bit nervous.” She let out a long breath and then chuckled. To see this vulnerable side of her was a gift. Maybe someone else wouldn’t notice, but he knew she was allowing him a private glimpse into her world. Gone was the polished heiress who had squared her shoulders and marched into his lobby like she already owned the place. She stood in front of him, barriers stripped away, trusting him enough to let him know her on a new level—real, exposed. He took her hands, brought the left to his lips, then the right. She shivered at his touch, but moved closer.
“Me too. How could I not be? You’re incredible, and I want to please you in every way imaginable.” Now it was his turn to chuckle. “Talk about pressure.” He grinned at her and felt a foot taller when she laughed and laid her head on his chest.
“I feel the same. Who could’ve guessed? Two people used to being in control, taking care of every little detail, putting pressure on themselves?” Her tongue-in-cheek words hammered home how alike they really were. She made a formidable opponent, but imagine what they could do on the same side?
SEDUCTION AT THE STARGRASS Page 7
