by Fiona Brand
As she strolled, she kept an eye on the curving path, which had narrowed, meaning that she had to move closer to Nick.
In her eagerness to keep distance between them, one of her heels slipped off the edge and sank into a thick layer of shells. His hand landed in the small of her back, steadying her. She stiffened, moving away from the heat of his palm, careful not to stumble again.
He indicated a branching pathway and an attractive hardwood building nestled among palms. A tinkling fountain was positioned to one side.
Seconds later, relieved, she slid her key card into the lock and opened her door. Soft light automatically filled the small, inviting hallway. She set her handbag and her briefcase down on the exquisite hardwood floors and turned to collect her case.
Moonlight glinted on the tough line of Nick’s jaw. “Now that you’re here,’ he said with a smooth confidence that set her teeth on edge, “we can finally talk.”
“It’s late. And this conversation was over a long time ago.” If memory served her correctly, it had involved three words and the last one had been “special.”
His jaw tightened, the first kink in his composure she’d seen so far, and suddenly the ball was back in her part of the court.
He set the case down. “I know I behaved badly last month, but I was hoping we could—”
“What, Nick?” She checked her watch, anything to take her mind off the riveting notion that Nick was working up to doing the one thing she had wanted when she had woken up after their night together. He was on the verge of suggesting they spend some time together.
The luminous dial indicated it was almost one in the morning.
He stepped a little closer. The wash of golden light from the porch of her cottage gleamed off his mouthwatering cheekbones. “Since you’re here for the weekend I was hoping we could spend some time together.” Startled that he had actually said the words, she dragged her gaze from the odd diffidence of his. It occurred to her that he seemed sorry that he had hurt her. As if he really did want—
She forced herself to edit that line of thought. This was Nick. She would not be fooled again.
Taking a deep breath, she dismissed the old, automatic desire to soften, to do exactly what he wanted. “I can’t think why.”
“Because I want another chance with you.”
The words were flatly stated, and they sent an electrifying thrill through her. For a split second she was riveted to the spot, quite frankly stunned, then she pulled herself up short. “When did you decide this?”
“A month ago.”
She blinked. “I don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “It’s the truth.”
His gaze dropped to her mouth.
Did he actually want to kiss her?
She should be furious, but for the first time in years, armed by hurt, she felt in control of her emotions and entirely capable of resisting him.
Heart pounding, high on an addictive, giddy sense of victory, she held her ground. “I don’t understand why.”
“This is why.” He stepped closer, filling the doorway, his gaze fastened on hers and, like a switch flicking on, her whole body was suddenly alive and humming.
Nick’s breath wafted against her cheek, warm and laced with the faintest hint of coffee. After a month of misery and platonic dating, the thought of kissing Nick Messena should leave her utterly cold. Unfortunately, it didn’t.
“Thanks for carrying my bag.” With a deliberate motion, Elena took a half step back into the hall, closed the door and leaned back on it. Her heart was pounding out of control. She felt weird and slightly feverish, and there it was. Her problem.
Nick Messena, unfortunately, still qualified as a fatal attraction. Close to irresistible and very, very bad for her.
Just like the last time, he was making no bones about the fact that he wanted her, and that in itself was very seductive.
But touching Nick Messena, kissing him—doing anything at all with him—was crazy. He was the boyfriend no self-respecting woman should allow herself to have...except in her fantasies.
She touched her lips, which felt sensitive and tender, even though she hadn’t been kissed.
So, okay...Nick Messena still affected her, but she was almost certain that for him there was little or no emotion involved.
He was all about the chase. Commitment was not his middle name.
But after what had happened the last time they had met, it was definitely hers.
* * *
Nick’s pulse settled into a steady beat as he walked to his own cottage, which was situated next door to Elena’s.
The encounter hadn’t gone well, but he had been braced for that.
He’d made love to her and left her—twice. He was going to have a tough time reclaiming her trust.
His pulse picked up a notch as he glimpsed Elena, just visible through the wide glass doors in her sitting room, easing slim, delicately arched feet out of her shoes.
With the addition of the red shoes, the gray suit, which could have been dull and businesslike, was cutting-edge and outrageously sexy.
He watched as she walked into the kitchenette, her stride measured, her spine straight, before she finally disappeared from view. It was an award-winning act, but no amount of control could completely repress the sleek, feminine sway to her hips or the fire he knew was stored behind those guarded eyes.
The red shoes said it all. The passion was still there.
He had made a mistake in leaving her. He should have kept her with him, but it was too late to turn the clock back now.
On the plus side, he finally had her back in his territory. He had three days, and the clock was ticking.
Unlocking his door, he stepped inside and walked through to his shower. Now all he had to do was convince her that the chemistry that exploded between them was worth another try. She hadn’t let him kiss her, but it had been close.
Satisfaction eased some of his tension as he peeled out of his clothing and stepped beneath twin jets of cool water.
The night hadn’t been a complete washout.
Despite the fact that she had closed the door in his face, he was certain that Elena Lyon still wanted him.
Eleven
The next morning, Elena dressed with care for the official part of the program: the What Women Really Want seminar.
Keeping her mind firmly off the fact that, despite everything, she was still attracted to Nick, she studied the filmy pink-and-orange halter top and white resort-style pants. The hot, tropical colors of the top revealed her smooth golden tan and a hint of cleavage. The pants clung to her hips and floated around her ankles, making the most of her new figure.
The outfit was perfect for a luxury resort, but even so she was tempted to retreat behind the business persona that had been her protective armor for years. Picking up pretty pink-and-gold earrings, she determinedly fitted them to her lobes.
The sound of a door closing in the cottage next door distracted her. A glimpse of Nick, dressed in narrow dark pants and a dark polo, strolling in the direction of the resort, made her heart slam against the wall of her chest.
The path he was using was the same one that led to her cottage and one other. Since she had heard a door close and then had seen Nick strolling away from the cottages, there was no way he could be just casually strolling before breakfast. He was living in the cottage next door.
Last night, after Nick had left, she hadn’t given any thought to where he was staying. She had been too relieved that she had managed to say “no,” and too busy going over every nuance of the exchange.
But the fact that Nick had stooped to the tactic with the key card and put her in a cottage next door to his underlined that he was serious about wanting her back.
She took a deep breath and
let it out slowly. Just because Nick was next door didn’t change anything. When he realized that she meant what she had said, he would soon switch his attention to one of the many gorgeous women she was sure would be at the resort.
After spraying herself with an ultrafeminine floral perfume, she picked up her folder of workshop notes and the quiz and strolled out of the cottage.
The restaurant was buzzing with guests enjoying breakfast and sitting on the terrace looking out over the stunning views. Relieved to see that Nick was not among the diners, Elena chose a secluded table, and ordered items that were listed on her diet maintenance plan.
Half an hour later, fortified by fresh fruit, yogurt and green tea, Elena strolled into the conference center and froze.
In a sea of femininity, Nick, dressed in black, his shoulders broad, biceps tanned, was a shady counterpart to the preponderance of white cotton, expensive jewelry and flashes of bright resort wear.
His head turned and her heart jolted as his gaze locked with hers.
Jaw firming against the instant heightened awareness and a too-vivid flashback of the previous night, Elena quickly walked to the podium and made an effort to ignore him.
Setting her folder and her laptop down on the table next to the lectern, she booted up the laptop and connected with the large state-of-the-art computerized screen. Briskly, she opened the file and checked that there were no glitches with the software. With the first slide displayed, she was good to go.
A wave of excited feminine laughter attracted her attention. A group of half a dozen of the youngest, prettiest women was clustered around Nick. Like bees to a honeypot.
The knowledge that, just as she’d thought, Nick was in the process of hooking up with one of the very pretty women in her seminar made her freeze in place.
She sloshed water from a jug into the tumbler beside it, barely noticing when some spilled onto the table. Setting the jug down with a sharp crack, she looked for a napkin to wipe up the spill. It shouldn’t matter that Nick was making conquests, setting up his next romantic episode.
She couldn’t find a napkin. Irritation morphing into annoyance, she found a notepad, which she dropped on top of the small puddle.
A sexy rumble of masculine laughter punctuated by a husky feminine voice calling to Nick jerked her head up. She was in time to see a tawny-haired woman with the kind of sultry beauty and lean, curvaceous figure that graced lingerie billboards, fling herself at Nick.
Nick’s arms closed around the goddesslike creature, pulling her into a loose clinch.
In that moment, Elena registered two salient facts. Firstly, that the woman Nick was now hugging casually against his side was Nick’s cousin, although only by adoption, Eva Atraeus. Secondly, that Eva was the kind of woman who graced underwear billboards.
Once a very successful model and now the owner of her own wedding-planning business, Eva was the feminine equivalent of a black sheep in the Atraeus family. Single and determinedly strong-willed, she had sidestepped her adoptive father’s efforts to maneuver her into an advantageous marriage. Instead, she had become notorious for serially dating a number of tabloid bad boys.
Elena’s stomach tightened as she watched the casual but intimate exchange. It was clear that Nick and Eva knew each other very well.
Who Nick hugged shouldn’t matter. Nick Messena didn’t belong to her, and he was not husband material.
He’d had his chance, twice.
Scrunching up the sopping wet little pad, she tossed it into a nearby trash can. Grimly, she concentrated on stacking her notes neatly on the podium and remembering her last date with Robert. Frustratingly, she couldn’t recall the name of the restaurant or what she had eaten. Her one abiding memory was that she had learned just a little too much about Australian tax law.
She checked her watch. She had given herself plenty of time to set up, and consequently had a good fifteen minutes left until the official start time to mingle with her clients.
Extracting her name tag from her handbag, she fastened it on to the left shoulder of her top then walked down onto the floor of the conference room to circulate.
Nick cut her off just as she reached a table set up with coffee, green tea, a selection of wheatgrass and vegetable juices, and platters of fresh fruit. “Looks like a good turnout. Congratulations.”
Elena pointedly checked her wristwatch. “We start in just a few minutes.”
“I’m aware of the start time. I’m sitting in on the seminar.”
Elena reached for a teacup, her careful calm already threatening to evaporate. “You can’t stay.”
Nick’s expression was oddly neutral. “It’s my resort. I’m entitled to make sure that what you’re doing works for the level of service and luxury we provide.”
Elena tensed at the thought of Nick sitting in on her seminar. Jaw tight, she poured herself a cup of green tea. “Constantine approved the program—”
“In the same week he handed over control to me.”
With calm precision, Elena set the cup on its saucer, added a slice of lemon and tried to control an irrational spurt of panic. If Nick wanted to crash the seminar she couldn’t stop him.
Last night, before she had gone to bed, she had used her priority clearance to check the Atraeus computer files for the details of the resort deal. Nick owned 51 percent. It was a reality she couldn’t fight. Not only was he the majority shareholder, it would appear he was also now the current manager.
Technically, he was also her employer for the entire New Zealand group of resorts.
She held the steaming green tea in front of her like a shield. The thin, astringent scent, which she was still trying to accustom herself to, wafted to her nostrils, making her long for the richness of coffee, although she quickly quashed the thought. She was intent on cutting anything bad out of her life. Like Nick Messena, coffee was banned. “The seminar is of no possible interest to you. It’s designed for women—”
“There are other men here.”
Two men, both booked in by their wives. She had already checked both of them out and couldn’t help noticing that they were oddly similar in appearance. Both were medium height and trim as if they ate sensibly and exercised regularly. They were also well dressed and extremely well-groomed. Like Robert.
With an effort of will, Elena called up Robert’s image again. Right now, with Nick looming over her looking muscular and tanned, as relaxed as a big hunting cat, Robert was a touchstone she desperately needed.
Although, distressingly, she was having trouble remembering exactly what he looked like. Whenever she tried to concentrate on Robert’s face, Nick Messena’s strong, slightly battered features swam into view.
She kept her expression pleasant as she sipped the bitter tea and tried not to watch longingly as Nick helped himself to black coffee, adding cream and two sugars.
A clear indication that he was settling in for the duration.
She took a sip of tea and couldn’t quite control her grimace. “I decided to throw the seminar open to men who were interested in improving their relationships.”
“And I’m not?”
She met his gaze squarely. “You said it, not me.”
“The question was rhetorical. As it happens, now that the nature of my business is changing, I’m going to have a lot more time on my hands to dedicate to...relationships.”
Elena almost choked on another mouthful of tea. She glanced at Eva who had just helped herself to coffee. Unbidden, her mind made an instant wild leap. As an Atraeus employee she had heard the rumor that Eva’s father, Mario, who was terminally ill, had been trying to force a match between Eva and Gabriel Messena.
The rumor had been confirmed by Gabriel’s new wife, Gemma. Since Gabriel had just married, that meant Mario would be looking for another bridegroom for his headstrong daughter. Of cour
se Nick, as the second Messena son, would be Mario’s natural choice.
“No way,” Nick said flatly.
Startled, Elena carefully set her tea down before she had another spill. “No way, what?”
“Eva and I are just good friends.”
Elena could feel her careful control shattering, the veneer of politeness zapped by a hot burn of emotion she had no hope of controlling. “Then why is she here?”
Somewhere in the recesses of her brain she registered that she must have taken a half step toward Nick, because suddenly she was close enough that she could feel the heat from his body, smell the clean scents of soap and masculine cologne.
Nick’s gaze narrowed. “You’re jealous.”
Elena stared at the taut line of Nick’s jaw and a small scar that was almost as fascinating as the nick across the bridge of his nose. “That would be when hell freezes over.”
“You don’t have to worry. I’m not interested in Eva. After last night you have to know that I want you back.”
A tingling thrill shot through her, cutting through the annoyance that he knew she was jealous.
He still wanted her.
A surge of delight mixed with an odd little rush of feminine power put a flush on her cheeks and jerked her chin up a little higher.
But a familiar dash of panic doused the surge of excitement. The last thing she needed to know now was that, after everything that had gone wrong, there was a chance for them after all.
He had left her twice. She should be over him, but clearly she wasn’t because the dangerous, electrifying attraction was still there.
Six years. The time that had passed since they had first slept together was a dose of reality she badly needed.
Those years had been lonely and more than a little depressing because she had been unable to settle into another relationship. Like any other woman her age, she had wanted to be loved and connected to somebody special. She had wanted all the trappings of marriage, the warmth and commitment, the family home, the babies.
