Reserved for the Tycoon

by Charlene Sands

  She had been adventurous that afternoon when she sabotaged Brock Tyler’s reputation. She’d witnessed the chaos during the wedding and had done her part to rectify the problems making sure it had been too little, too late. She’d accomplished what she’d aimed for and thought she’d feel some sense of wicked satisfaction today. Instead, her nerves went raw and the white wine wasn’t doing a thing to calm her queasiness. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll have a strawberry margarita,” she said to the bartender.

  Lucy’s laughter filled the tiny space they occupied at the bamboo bar. “Oh, that’s better. You’re getting wild and crazy now.”

  Lucy’s playful sarcasm made her smile. Vanessa wasn’t a good companion tonight. She had a good deal on her mind. She’d spoken with her sister today, maybe as a means of justification for what she’d done during the wedding. Melody had answered the phone cheerfully, which brightened Vanessa’s mood a bit, though she knew her sister was covering up her heartache. Melody was still devastated and Vanessa loved her all the more for trying to pretend she wasn’t, for her sake.

  Miles separated them now and Melody didn’t know that Vanessa had taken a job working at Tempest Maui. She’d deliberately not divulged that information, offering up a different scenario to her sister. As far as Melody knew, Vanessa had taken a temporary transfer to Hawaii and was still working for her previous employer.

  “What’s the matter, aren’t you having a good time? You refuse to dance and you’re moping around like you’ve lost your best friend.”

  Vanessa stared into Lucy’s dark brown concerned eyes. In just a few weeks, they’d become close and Vanessa wished she didn’t have to deceive her along with everyone else she’d met since coming to work for Brock Tyler. But to confide in anyone right now could spell disaster.

  “I’m just a little tired. It’s been a long week.”

  Lucy took her hand in hers. “That’s why we’re here, Vanny. You need to unwind. You know, let your hair down. Why don’t you dance?”

  “Yes, why don’t you?”

  Vanessa whirled around and found Akamu standing behind her. The hotel manager had a big smile on his face and she couldn’t refuse those beckoning eyes.

  “Okay,” she said, taking his hand. “Mahalo.”

  His friend Tony asked Lucy to dance and together the four of them took the dance floor. If Akamu knew anything about what happened at the wedding, he wasn’t letting on, so Vanessa didn’t bring up the subject.

  She wound up having a nice time with Akamu, his friend Tony and Lucy. The foursome had Bono, running and a love of healthy foods in common. When Lucy parked her car outside of her condo, Vanessa was in a much better frame of mind than when the evening had begun.

  “Thanks, Lucy. I really had fun tonight. Just what I needed.”

  “Yeah, it took you a while, but you finally lightened up.”

  “I even tried a Mojito. It was pretty good, though the mint surprised me.”

  “Who could go wrong with rum, mint and sugar?”

  They exited the car and Lucy met her by the passenger door. “I didn’t want to bring it up earlier, but I heard what happened at the wedding today.”

  “Oh, yeah. How did you hear about it?”

  “Word travels fast around here. Akamu knew all about it, but his policy is to keep work separate from playtime. I couldn’t get much out of him.”

  “Gosh, he didn’t say anything to me.” Vanessa sighed. “The wedding wasn’t a major disaster or anything.” Well, she surmised, it could have been much worse. “But can we talk about it another time? I don’t want to spoil my good mood.”

  Lucy smiled wide and hugged her. “Sure. As long as you’re okay.”

  “I will be. I was feeling a bit homesick today…I miss my sister. Going out was just what I needed tonight.”

  “You’ll get used to being on the island,” Lucy said with compassion.

  “Thank you. I’ll see you on Monday.”

  “Right, Monday it begins all over again.” Lucy rolled her eyes, making Vanessa laugh as they parted.

  She strolled leisurely into the garden area of the development with a lingering smile on her face, a bright gleam of moonlight reflecting off the almond-shaped pool. She’d almost made it to her condo, when a man stepped out of the shadows.

  “Oh,” she gasped in fear, seeing anger on his face. He must know the truth. She’d been caught. “Brock, what are you doing here? You scared me half to death.”

  Three

  B rock paced in front of her, ignoring the fact that she’d nearly jumped out of her skin when he’d come out of the shadows. “I was called back from a meeting I had in Kapalua. Apparently, we had quite a few complaints about the wedding today. Are you aware of what happened?” A frown settled on Brock’s face.

  Vanessa had dreaded this conversation, but she’d mentally prepared herself. In her preparations, though, she never dreamed he’d come to her home to reprimand her. She walked past him to her door and unlocked it. “Come in. We don’t have to discuss this outside in the dark.”

  Vanessa entered, allowing Brock to follow her inside and moved about the room, turning lights on and tossing her purse on the sofa.

  Brock stood stock-still, a tick working his jaw. “I called your cell phone half a dozen times tonight.”

  “I turned it off after work.” She cast him a quick smile. “I wouldn’t have heard it where I went tonight anyway.”

  “Joe’s Tiki Torch?”

  “How did you know that?”

  “It’s the local hangout.” He rubbed the back of his neck and added, “I spoke with Akamu tonight.”

  From his stance, it didn’t appear that Brock would leave anytime soon, so she resigned herself to this confrontation. “Have a seat.” She turned toward the kitchen. “I’ll make a pot of coffee.”

  “Not for me,” he said, following her. “Do you have something to drink?”

  “Wine, beer and I think there’s a bottle of rum in the cabinet.”

  “Rum,” he said. “And Coke?”

  “That, I have.” Vanessa opened the kitchen cupboard and reached for the bottle sensing Brock standing right behind her. “Coke’s in the fridge.”

  He moved away to open her refrigerator while she brought down a glass tumbler and poured him a few fingers of rum. He moved in close and filled the rest of the glass with the soda. Their shoulders brushed and his close proximity curled her toes. The male earthy scent of sandalwood filled the air and tension crackled with his anger and her awareness of him. “None for you?”

  She shook her head. “No, I’d better not. I’ve had enough tonight. Would you like some des—”

  “Sit down, Vanessa.” He pointed to her kitchen chair and she thought for sure her goose was cooked.

  She sat and he did, too, facing her across the small glass table. “What the hell happened today?”

  Maybe she should have poured herself a drink after all. Her throat dry, she steadied her nerves. “Well, a lot of things happened. Although there were some minor inconveniences, the wedding went off without a hitch.”

  “Minor inconveniences? You call construction noises during the ceremony a minor inconvenience? That construction wasn’t supposed to start until next month.”

  “I know, but their invoice had a typo on it. They got the date wrong. They started work on the west wing, by mistake.”

  “I’m told the buzz saw alone drowned out the wedding march music, just as the bride walked down the aisle. She got rattled and started crying. It took thirty minutes to finally find the entire crew and convince them to stop working.”

  “You’re telling me?” Vanessa said, quite adamantly. “I was the one tracking down the supervisor and ordering the stoppage. It was an unfortunate error and we did our best to accommodate the bride and groom after that. Let me tell you that supervisor was not happy. He had to pay those men regardless, even after I sent them all packing. I’m truly sorry that the bride was distraught, Brock. We did the best we could, under
the circumstances.”

  Brock scratched his jaw and sighed deeply. “I suppose. But that wasn’t all. The Garden Pavilion restrooms were stopped up. All the guests were inconvenienced by having to use the restrooms at the far end of the hotel lobby.”

  “Plumbing problems are the worst.” Vanessa nodded her agreement. “We had a team working on it and finally got it all fixed before the reception ended.”

  “A little late, wouldn’t you say?”

  Vanessa bit down on her lip. She had to watch her step with Brock. He wasn’t a fool. Far from it. “I can assure you, I was on top of all the problems from the moment they occurred.”

  “It’s your job to see that they don’t occur.” Brock sipped his drink, eyeing her over the glass rim.

  “Were there any more complaints?” she asked.

  “Weren’t those enough? The wedding ceremony nearly ruined and plumbing problems during the entire affair makes for a bad first impression.”

  “For me? Surely, I couldn’t have controlled those things, not even if I were a mind reader.” She defended quite convincingly, she thought.

  Brock looked deep into her eyes. “No, I didn’t say that. It makes for a bad impression for the hotel. Word of mouth is worth a bundle on the island. I only hope comping their honeymoon stay will make it up to them.”

  “That’s a nice gesture.”

  “Costly.” He shrugged. “It’s expected when things go wrong.”

  “I’m sorry there were problems. But I don’t think the hotel will suffer too much. Tempest has a good reputation.” That much was true and Vanessa aimed to make sure Brock’s hotel would become the black sheep of the Tempest flock.

  “I’d like to keep it that way.” He rose and when she thought he was ready to leave, he walked over to the kitchen counter and poured another drink, mixing rum with Coke again. Then he leaned against the corner of the counter and folded his arms, his gaze focusing directly on her. “Did you enjoy your night out?”

  Vanessa rose from her seat, irritated by her vulnerability. She mustered her courage, commending herself on her bravado thus far. Brock made her nervous, especially when his eyes followed her every movement. “Yes, it was a nice evening.”

  “Did you dance?”

  She nodded and leaned opposite him against the counter. “A little. It was nice to unwind.”

  Brock’s gaze flowed over her leisurely, taking in her silvery dress and high-heeled sandals. “I’d like to see that, too. You…unwinding.”

  Her throat went as dry as tropical wind.

  “Truth is, I was in a devil of a mood when I got here, Vanessa.”

  “Ready to take my head off?” she asked, squeamishly.

  “Ready to take something off,” he said quietly.

  Goose bumps prickled her skin and she remained silent. Even as he set his glass down on the counter. Even as he walked toward her. Even as he stood toe-to-toe with her, her back to the granite countertop, she remained silent.

  “My mood is improving,” he said, touching a curling strand of her hair and looking down at her mouth.

  Her heart raced. She didn’t know what to do. She’d been successful in sabotaging him today and now, as he bent his head, oh Lord, she wanted to feel his lips claim hers again. A bizarre, uncanny and…thrilling sensation swept clear through her.

  “What are—”

  His mouth bore down, tasting from her lips again, obliterating her question. He clamped his hands on her hips and pulled her closer, drugging her with his kiss and demanding a response. She couldn’t deny his demand, and when he moved closer yet, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “This is crazy,” she whispered, the words slipping out.

  “Why?” he asked, tugging on her lower lip gently, his sexy sandalwood scent surrounding her senses.

  Because I’m doing my best to ruin you.

  He nipped at her lip again and she sucked oxygen into her lungs, her body reacting to him on every level. The kitchen grew hotter and hotter and when he pressed her mouth open and drove his tongue inside, that heat quickly escalated to sizzling. “I’m not your boss now,” he murmured between sweeping kisses.

  “What are you then?” she whispered as his tongue explored and tantalized.

  “A man completely drawn to you.”

  “You don’t know me, Brock,” she said, the conversation taking place between hot, hungry, wet kisses.

  “I’m a good judge of character, honey,” he said, moving from her mouth to nibble on her throat. “And I know what I want.” His hot breath warmed her and she arched her neck, allowing him complete access. Goodness. Pressed against him, she felt the full measure of what he wanted. His erection stymied her next thoughts. Brock’s charm, elegance and raw sexuality enveloped her. She couldn’t fight back. His weapons were too powerful.

  He moistened her shoulder with his tongue, planting little biting kisses there, his hands on either side of her shoulders now, slipping the straps of her dress down, releasing the material.

  Her slinky dress betrayed her and fell down around her breasts. Brock’s intake of oxygen thrilled her as his gaze swooped down. “Perfect,” he offered, admiring her with open lust.

  He reached up and circled her breast, outlining it gently, his thumb flicking the erect tip, causing rapid, potent and instant desire to flare below her waist.

  “Brock,” she pleaded, and spoke her thoughts aloud. “We can’t do this.”

  “We’re doing it,” he said softly, “don’t fight it.”

  He cupped one breast and bent his head, his tongue moist on her nipple.

  She moaned with pleasure and dug her fingers into his hair. He continued his lusty assault and Vanessa threw caution to the wind, leaning back and relishing each heated caress with total abandon.

  Then the phone rang.

  Vanessa blinked her eyes. She didn’t get too many calls here. What if it was Melody? The answering machine would give Vanessa away. Melody’s voice was earthy, with a little Louisiana accent that couldn’t be missed. If she said her name into the answering machine…

  Vanessa wasn’t ready to give up her quest yet. She didn’t want to be discovered by Brock.

  The phone rang a second time. She pushed at Brock’s chest. “I have to get that.”

  He looked into her eyes. “Let it ring. Your machine will get it.”

  Two rings to go and all would be lost.

  “No, I’m sorry,” she said, sliding along the counter and out of his grasp. “I’m expecting an important call.”

  She dashed into her bedroom and picked up the bedside phone, looking at a framed photo of Melody and her, arms wrapped around each other, back in Louisiana. She grabbed the frame and tossed it into her dresser drawer, getting rid of the evidence.

  Slamming the drawer closed, she answered out of breath, “Hello.”

  “Hi! Have you recovered from our little excursion tonight?”

  “Oh…hi, Lucy,” she stammered, surprised it was her friend who’d called.

  “I can’t find my wallet. Have you seen it by any chance?”

  “Uh, no. I haven’t. Maybe you left it at the Torch.”

  “That’s my next call. But I had it when I paid the bill. I can’t remember what I did with it after that. Just thought maybe it dropped out of my car when I let you off at your place tonight.”

  “Gosh, I’m sorry,” she said, finally focusing on her friend’s dilemma. “I’ll look around the complex and call you right back.”

  “Thanks, you’re a doll.”

  Vanessa hung up the phone and straightened her dress, setting the spaghetti straps back in place. She imagined she looked pretty disheveled, but didn’t dare glance in the dresser mirror. She didn’t want to see the sex-starved expression on her face.

  That’s what she attributed her attraction to Brock as—her lack of sex. She hadn’t been in a relationship for over a year.

  “Was that your important call?” Brock startled her, leaning against the doorjam, his gaze intent.


  “Uh, no. But it was something important. Lucy lost her wallet. I have to try to find it outside where she dropped me off.”

  He eyed her for a minute. Glanced at her bed with a lingering look. Then nodded. “I’ll help.”

  “Oh, you don’t have to do that. I’m sure I can—”

  “Vanessa, I said I’ll help.”

  His tone held no irritation, thankfully. This evening was confusing enough for her. “Okay. Thank you.”

  When she brushed past him, he took her hand and drew her up against his body. “We’re not through yet.” He kissed her quickly and released her. “Not by a long shot. Just thought I’d give you fair warning.”

  Vanessa considered herself duly warned and walked out of her condo with Brock, realizing how close she’d come to being exposed. She’d been lucky this time.

  She couldn’t afford any more close calls.

  But what worried her more was the close call she’d had in Brock’s arms.

  They’d come very close to making love.

  And Vanessa hadn’t the willpower to stop him.

  “Just turn those car keys over to me now, Brock, and save yourself the grief.” Trent’s amused laughter came through loud and clear over the cell phone.

  Brock winced, and leaned back in his desk chair, mentally shaking off his brother’s gibe, but he couldn’t banish the image of Trent’s gloating face popping into his mind. “Not on your life, bro. In fact, I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.”

  Trent laughed again, grating on Brock’s nerves. “Right. Hell, the Everett wedding even made our Arizona papers. I’ve got the exact words here, ‘Jack-hammers drowned out the wedding march and brought tears to the hopeful bride’s face, the Everett marriage getting off to a dismal start at Tempest Maui’s plush, but chaotic, Garden Pavilion.’”

  Brock ran his hand down his jaw and heaved a sigh. “Must have been a slow news day at Crimson Canyon. What, you don’t have enough going on with your fiancée, you have to call and harass me?”