by Jo Grafford
His arms tightened around her tiny waist. “If we’ve reached the official part of our discussion, I’d like to reinstate my earlier request.” He cuddled her closer. “The part about dating me. You never said yes.”
“You didn’t exactly answer my question, either. About coaching me on my jumps.”
“Really, babe?” His heart sank. “Because I distinctly remember telling you no.”
“Maybe we could work out a compromise?” Her voice was silky with promise.
“You can’t ask that of me, Jovie,” he groaned. “Risking my own hide is one thing, but risking yours? Not gonna happen. I’m sorry. I can’t.”
Her luscious lips came out in a pout. “I’m not a novice, Dash. I started working on my jumps many months ago. That’s the whole reason I was in Sweden when you called.”
His insides turned cold. “You were out there alone? Jumping?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “I had Christian with me.”
“Christian doesn’t jump.”
She snickered. “Christian doesn’t ski much either. He sticks to the bunny slopes, but I’ll deny it if you say I told you.”
He tipped his forehead against hers with a sigh of exasperation. “I’m serious, Jovie. You shouldn’t be out there alone. Ever. It’s dangerous. Even I don’t go out there alone. Always have my crew with me. Bull and Raj, my tech guy. Sometimes a few others.”
She leaned in to brush her lips against his.
He tasted heaven again and momentarily forgot his train of thought.
“So go with me, Dash. Coach me. Be my crew.”
He grunted out a protest, angling his head to come in for another kiss. “I’d rather you be my girl with no strings attached.”
“I am your girl, Dash, but I’m going back out on the ramps with or without you. I’m not going to quit being who I am just because we’re dating. You didn’t fall for a Sunday morning stroller. You fell for a professional skier. A champion. And all the risks that go with it.”
He hated to admit, even to himself, that she was right. But he mostly just didn’t want her to get hurt. Not on his slopes. Not on his watch. “Fine, Jovie. You win this round. I’d rather you be out there with me than alone.”
“Thank you.” She kissed him again. “I’ll be careful. I promise.”
“You better be,” he growled, kissing her back. He’d only been dating her a few minutes, and already he was turning into an overprotective moron. Man! Dating Jovie might be the hardest challenge he’d faced yet.
Chapter 5: Exes and Agents
Jovie
Jovie practically danced her way across the skywalk to return to her suite. Holy guacamole! She’d been on Dasher Island for half a day, and already she was dating its owner. Who also happened to be the Phantom who she’d been crushing on for so long… It was wild and dreamy, like something straight out of a movie.
He had a ski class to teach this afternoon. Then they were meeting up on his helipad to visit a nightclub on Dancer Island, which was apparently the resort’s entertainment hub. It boasted an IMAX theater, a recording studio, a dance studio, as well as live theater performances. She fully intended to talk him into taking her to see the Nutcracker before the end of her working vacation.
She punched the private code Mary had given her into the elevator keypad to access her suite. To her surprise, the doors rolled open to reveal the anxious features of Christian Laurent.
“Where have you been?” he cried, rushing forward to grip her shoulders. “You’re a complete wreck!” He touched a strand of her damp hair, frowning. “You smell like wine. Did you take a shower in it or what?”
Sort of. She ducked away from his grasp. “Don’t ask. Suffice it to say I got in the crossfire of a popped cork. I’m well aware of how badly I need to shower and change. Hopefully, Mary can get these stains out of my suit before they set.” She cast a rueful glance down at her champagne spotted shirt and suit. Unless the resort staff could work miracles, her silk shirt was toast. Thankfully, it had only set her back a few hundred dollars. Dash’s suit, on the other hand… Guilt stabbed her at the realization she might’ve destroyed a really expensive outfit for him. He didn’t seem to be holding it against her, but…
“Who’s Mary?” Christian demanded, scowling in confusion. He smoothed a hand down his plaid blazer, which he’d had the buttons switched out on to make it look custom tailored. He was the kind of guy who paired expensive shoes with cheap suits to economize. She’d always admired his frugalness. His ability to fit into the celebrity world for a price tag he could afford.
She spread her hands. “My attendant, as it turns out.” She chuckled. “In her own words, she came with the suite.”
“I see.” He looked puzzled. “Well, you wanted some rest and relaxation. I suppose having a personal maid will help make that wish a reality.”
She shook her head merrily at him. “Oh, no, Christian. She made it very clear she’s not to be confused with the cleaning staff. She’s more of a personal assistant. The person who will make all my dining and entertainment reservations, see that my laundry and dry cleaning get picked up, do my personal shopping, help out with any party planning…”
Christian’s eyebrows shot up. He ran a hand through his longish blonde hair. “Party planning!”
“Exactly.” She waggled her forefinger at him. “So you better think twice before you mess with me now that I’m armed with a party planner.”
“Mon Dieu!” He shook his head. “Makes me wish I had checked on you sooner. My deepest apologies, cheri. Be assured, I’ll make it clear to everyone far and near by the end of the day that you are here on the island for rest and more rest.”
“And skiing,” she reminded, heading for the drink fridge in the kitchenette. “Don’t forget I have to test out the slopes before I can give my endorsement.” She pulled out a bottle of sparkling raspberry water, uncapped it, and drank deeply. Apparently, kissing was a thirsty sport. She blushed at the memory of being in Dash’s arms, while silently praying Christian wouldn’t get wind of what she’d really been up to the past couple of hours.
“Speaking of which…” He took a seat on the leather sofa in the great room and raised a brow at the jellyfish bobbing inside the water-filled wall opposite him. “I got ahold of Mr. Holliday’s attorney. He was a bit vague on the identity of the expert skier we observed this morning, but he was quick to assure me you’re the only celebrity endorsement they’ve contracted for the new slopes.”
The expert skier. Funny how Christian didn’t even want to say the guy’s name. It was almost as if he was starting to resent the Phantom.
“Which Mr. Holliday?” Jovie asked, hoping to change the subject. “There are ten of them, remember?”
“The senior one, Mr. Gordon Holliday. Who else were you expecting?”
“Mr. Warren Dasher Holliday, since he owns this island.”
Christian shrugged. “I inquired about him, hoping to set up a meeting, but he wasn’t available. Billionaires,” he said scathingly beneath his breath. “Probably shacked up with some bimbo.”
“Christian!” she exclaimed. I’m the girl he was with. “What an awful thing to say about a man you’ve never met!”
He sniffed. “Just take my word for it, and steer clear of Holliday offspring, Jovie. I’ve done some asking around about the reindeer brothers, as the press so fondly calls them, and most of what I heard isn’t good.”
“Really?” She feigned surprise, knowing it wouldn’t take much to keep him talking. Christian enjoyed gossip as much as a newly minted debutante. It was one of his less attractive traits.
“I’m afraid so. Billionaire playboys, everyone of them. None of them married and all of them living off their trust funds. Their father is this close to washing his hands of the entire lot.” He pressed his thumb and forefinger together.
“Interesting,” Jovie murmured into her bottle of flavored water. She wondered who his source was, because he or she clearly hadn’t painted a very ac
curate picture of Dash. A man who owned or partially owned three resorts and still found time to host an extreme sports entertainment channel on social media. The Phantom. My Phantom, she thought dreamily as she exited the kitchenette and headed for her bedroom.
“Have you eaten yet?” Christian asked, eyeing her curiously. “If you’d like, we can go try out the Café Blanc on the main level. After you freshen up, of course.”
“That sounds marvelous.” She’d shared the most amazing lobster frittata with Dash not more than an hour ago, but it wasn’t a tryst she was ready to discuss with Christian just yet. Besides, meeting with her business manager would give her the opportunity to start clearing the air with him.
She texted Mary and let her know she and her manager were visiting the main level.
Do you know if we need a reservation?
Her attendant replied within seconds.
I’ll have a table ready by the time you get there.
* * *
In less than forty-five minutes, they were strolling through the common areas of the main level, which proved to be far more than restaurants and lounges. To Jovie’s amazement, it entailed a walk through a stunning digital art lobby. There were five pairs of columns, at least twenty feet tall, bearing wide floor-to-ceiling panels. According to a descriptive gold plaque on the wall, the panels displayed a curated library of digital art in a slow but continuous rotation. While she and Christian strolled beneath the mirrored ceiling, the panels were bathed in a crimson and white mirage of Oriental art. Ancient symbols, lotus blossoms, dragons, and intricately woven vines and filigrees. By the time they reached the end of the lobby, the panels were transitioning to an exposition of blues and greens that made her feel like she was walking beneath the sea.
“Incroyable!” Christian breathed. He was a huge patron of culture and the arts. They entered Café Blanc, and he asked if there were any private tables available. Jovie groaned inside her head when they were led to a secluded alcove. Then again, such privacy would give her the opportunity to have that talk with him she’d been meaning to have.
No sooner were they seated than a shrill voice carried its way across the restaurant. “Don’t you know who I am? Well, you should! I’m Laurene Garland, Dash Holliday’s girlfriend.” There was a pause. “Of course I understand this place requires a reservation. I’m dining with his mother, Mara Holliday.”
What? Jovie froze in her upholstered chair. That couldn’t be correct. Dash Holliday’s mother was no longer living. “Guess you were correct about the playboy brothers,” she muttered in undertones to Christian, hoping to shake him down for more information. “Did your source happen to share anything about the owner of this particular island?”
Christian was frowning in concentration as he strove to overhear what was taking place near the entrance podium. “This is like something straight from a reality show,” he hissed in excitement. “Mara Holliday is Gordon Holliday’s ex, and from what I hear? A real troublemaker. I wonder what she’s doing at the resort.”
Unfortunately, he was so engrossed in eavesdropping that he paid very little attention to what was happening at his own table. That meant another opportunity was missed to clear the air about their relationship. On the flip side, it also meant he didn’t notice how little she ate of the white truffle and Beluga caviar he ordered. For dessert, they were served a pair of frozen sundaes in crystal goblets. She lost count of the number of chocolate ice cream flavors, though Christian swore there were at least a dozen. She spooned at the edges of her sundae, finding the edible gold leaf garnish almost too pretty to eat.
The serene atmosphere of the restaurant was interrupted by yet another commotion as she and Christian rose to leave. This time it was due to the arrival of Dash Holliday, himself. He was still in ski pants with a pair of sunshades propped on his head. From his windblown hair and the pink tips of his ears and nose, she discerned he’d recently returned indoors.
Oh, dear heavens! She cast an anxious glance at Christian by her side, wondering if he would recognize The Bullhorn who was accompanying Dash. The third man she’d never seen before, but his Indonesian coloring and features made her speculate he was Raj, the tech guru Dash had mentioned earlier. Another guy in his crew.
“Warren, darling!” The woman, who’d claimed to be Dash’s girlfriend earlier, flew across the restaurant to launch herself in his arms. “I’ve been so worried about you.” She was a gloriously tall and rail-thin brunette, bordering on anemic, with that exotic, wraithlike look that only supermodels could pull off. She leaned in to press her lips to his, but he turned his head and took her kiss on the cheek.
“Why?” Dash’s question was brutally blunt. He kept walking, which made it awkward for the woman to keep clinging.
She trotted alongside him, pouting. “Why haven’t you returned my calls? I told you I was coming for Christmas.”
Jovie tried to duck behind a column to avoid being detected by Dash and his entourage, but Christian tugged her along. “I know this fellow might not have the most stellar reputation, but he’s like royalty, cheri. It’ll be good PR to make his acquaintance.”
Oh. My. Gawsh! Jovie could only hope she hadn’t spilled any chocolate on her pale pink cashmere sweater. She was super glad she’d chosen to pair it with black silk and wool skinny trousers and Jimmy Choo Mahesa leather boots. She was also glad she’d chosen to pile her blonde locks in a loose updo with a few strands cascading down her temples and cheeks. It seemed safest to go for a look of casual elegance, just in case she ran into someone important.
Like Dash Holliday, apparently.
Their gazes met and clashed while they were still a good ten feet away from each other. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe. He might as well have been the only one in the room. She relived the strength of his arms, the potency of his kisses.
“Jovie!” He strode in her direction and swept her up in his arms, lifting her from the ground and spinning her in a circle.
“Who is this woman?” Laurene demanded in a heated voice.
“None of your business,” Dash growled, “You can either return to your table, or I can call security and have them toss you off my island.”
The woman gasped at his cutting tone. “Warren!” she pleaded. “You know what? We can talk about this later.” She pivoted in her heels and stomped back to her lunch companion, a middle aged woman wearing way too much makeup.
“What are you doing?” Jovie hissed against Dash’s cheek, knowing they had every eye in the restaurant on them.
“Showing you how much I missed you, babe. Has it really been two whole hours?” He pressed a row of tiny kisses down the side of her face. “Mm, you smell good.”
“You’re killing me,” she muttered back. “Just for the record. I was never gunning for a position in your harem.”
He set her down abruptly. “Give us a moment,” he tossed over his shoulder to his companions. Then he led her around a column to stand beside an indoor water feature. The sound of the falling water gave them some modicum of privacy. “What are you talking about?” he demanded.
“The woman you just traded words with,” she stormed. “Laurene Garland. Does the name ring a bell?”
He grimaced. “A very small and annoying bell, if you insist on knowing. Someone I went to dinner with once and have regretted it ever since. She’s basically a groupie. One who most unfortunately happens to be besties with my ex-stepmother. They make for a real pair of drama queens.” At her expression, he made a snorting noise. “Hey, I warned you my life was complicated.”
“Join the club.” She made a face at him. “I made a lunch reservation with my business manager, even though I wasn’t the least bit hungry, for the express purpose of reminding him he’s my business manager. Lately, I’ve felt like he’s been trying to evolve us into something more…intimate.”
Dash trailed a finger down her cheek.
Her heartbeat raced at his touch.
“I have an idea that might solve both our
dilemmas.” His dark eyes twinkled wickedly.
“What are you up to?” she asked suspiciously.
His head descended over hers. “This is one of those things best demonstrated rather than told.” With that, he claimed her lips in a very thorough kiss that stole her breath.
“Dash,” she whispered, searching his features when he raised his head. “I really, really hope you know what you’re doing.”
“What I’m doing is showing the world you belong to me now. I trust you don’t object?”
Whew! Now that was more like the cocky commanding stereotypical billionaire from television. “Not at all,” she sighed, still in no way looking forward to her next conversation with Christian.
“Me, neither.” He kissed her again before escorting her back to their group.
Christian was red-faced and fuming and refused to meet her eye.
The Bullhorn was the first to greet her. “I’m Blaine Westover, operations manager and chief sidekick to the boss man.” He angled his head at Dash. “I basically make him look good and give him someone to order around when he’s feeling powerful. This goon is our chief nerd.” He gave a princely wave to the Indonesian man in their group.
“Dr. Rajesh Batra,” the man corrected, stepping forward with his hand extended. His dark eyes glinted approvingly at her from behind his wire-rimmed spectacles. “I run the tech side of the biz, oversee security, that sort of thing.”
Jovie warmly shook his hand. So this was Dash’s crew. They seemed pretty amazing as far as first impressions went. She couldn’t wait to cross paths with them in private, so she could grill them about the Phantom. She cast a look over her shoulder at Christian who was still visibly fuming. “This is my business manager, Christian Laurent. He was very instrumental in helping make this trip happen.”
He greeted her new friends with chalky lips and made noises about leaving soon afterwards. He managed to drop a warning bug in her ear on his way out of the restaurant. “We need to talk. Tonight!”
