Reforming the CEO (South Beach)
Page 7
“No.” Having been in D.C. for undergraduate and graduate school, she didn’t recognize many of the newcomers to the South Beach social scene, and since the Archers had hired an event company to organize Amelie’s birthday party, many of the attendees might not actually know Amelie personally.
“Her family is pretty wealthy. Connected.” His tone sounded matter-of-fact, but she heard the slightest respect behind the comment.
She couldn’t think with his hand searing her skin and his nearness overwhelming her senses. But what she could process was his emphasis on wealth and connections, and her heart slowed a fraction.
“That’s important to you?” She should never forget he was self-made, and a tiny part of her regretted asking the question as soon as the words slipped from her mouth. She knew the answer without him saying one word.
Hurt flared in his eyes, but he ignored her question and asked, “Have we organically connected yet? I see some people staring, and I’d rather have you all to myself.”
The comment threw her off-kilter, and she floundered for a response. If they left right now, they could pick up where his text messages left off. The force with which she wanted to grab his hand and run sent a shiver of alarm—genuine panic—down her spine. Caring Vin had walked her home. Flirty Vin had charmed her. But this Vin, intense gaze and tone thick with promise, made her forget this wasn’t a real romance. They couldn’t grab hands and run off into the night. She couldn’t succumb to his magnetism, because even with all her money, she couldn’t afford to pay the price of a broken heart. She reminded herself all those texts and all his innuendos meant nothing except physical satisfaction for them both. Fun. Not forever.
Which meant it was show time. If she wanted her fun, she had to uphold her side of the deal. No problem. How many times had she played this part to perfection?
She touched his arm when she suggested, “Why don’t we find a high top somewhere visible? Have a drink?”
“One drink, and then I have things I want to do to you.” The glint in his gaze returned, and her heart stuttered. Damn the man.
“Dinner first,” she scolded, wincing at the sharpness in her tone.
“One hour, Reece, and then you’re mine,” he said, his tone filled with determination.
…
Vin reveled in the way Reece’s midnight eyes widened at his blatant suggestion. She wanted him as much as he wanted her, but he appreciated the way she kept them on track. Especially since he still didn’t know her reasons for choosing him.
He noted how every guy in the gardens glanced at Reece a little too long, but he also noticed every male who approached her received the same polished smile. Polite but not too inviting. Good. Because for the rest of the summer, she was his.
He wanted to retract that thought as soon as it formed. She was not his, and he’d never be hers. This was purely a business transaction. One stepping stone closer to achieving his goal.
After guiding her to a table, he waved over a server carrying a tray of cocktails, passed a glass of white wine to Reece, and took an amber liquid for himself. Whiskey or Scotch, it didn’t matter. Everything here would be top shelf. One more reminder of the difference in their taxable income.
Reece closed her eyes as she sipped the wine, inhaling in a way that had her breasts rising and drawing his attention to her smooth skin. “Last year we celebrated Amelie’s birthday on the Potomac.”
Probably on a million-dollar yacht. He shook away the petty thought. It had been a long time since Vin had been jealous of anyone with money, but Reece reminded him of his upbringing. Not that he was ashamed. Not that she even remembered. But it was there, in between them.
She licked her upper lip, and he grinned. In one hour, nothing would be between them but air. He’d strip her naked, and neither one of them would be wearing designer anything.
“Must have been some party.”
She tucked a strand of dark hair behind her ear, revealing her signature diamond studs. “It was. But nothing like your yacht parties.”
He let out a low chuckle, pushing aside his gratitude that her earrings wouldn’t be in the way when he grabbed her long hair and wrapped it around his fist. “You might be right about that.”
Her mouth opened to an adorable O. “Might be? I’ve lived next to you for a year.”
Her words implied she’d heard the rumors about his reputation, but that didn’t bother him. Wasn’t that why he’d asked her to be seen with him for six events? “And in that year, you’ve never once come to one of my parties.”
Not that he’d expected her to show up to a gathering with up-and-coming entertainers.
“Maybe we should start small. A tour of your condo. I’d love to see how you renovated it.” She bit her lower lip, as if unsure how he’d respond, and he nearly groaned.
She still had half a glass of wine left. He finished his and reached for another from the passing server.
“A nightcap sounds delicious,” he agreed. With a wink, he asked, “Has it been an hour yet? I have a surprise for you.”
The sparkle that hit her eyes when she laughed charmed him, and his cock gave a happy twitch as she glanced around, considering his proposition.
Just when their evening could turn interesting, Fred and Simon appeared at their table. “Reece, looking lovely,” Simon said.
“Thank you. Lovely to see you. And you, Fred.”
“Reece.” Fred nodded. “I apologize, but Vin, could we meet briefly in the gentlemen’s seating area?”
To Reece, Simon promised, “We’ll have him back before dinner is served.”
Disappointment at the interruption flooding him, Vin straightened. Annoyance quickly followed. If Fred and Simon wanted to speak with him, he should be interested, not irritated, and yet, that was exactly how he felt. Animosity toward the two men pulling him away from Reece. So much so that he barely appreciated the ambiance of the gentlemen’s lounge or the significance of the meeting.
Once they settled into the deep leather chairs, Fred said, “Glad to see you took Simon’s advice with Reece. About time you dated a good girl.”
If Vin hadn’t been swallowing an ounce from a twelve-hundred dollar bottle of whiskey, he might have sputtered at Fred. Reece’s original words—For the record, I don’t want to date you, but I wouldn’t say no to sex—flashed through his mind.
On the outside, she definitely wore the “good girl” label well. He’d never met anyone so happy and comfortable in her own existence. It made him wonder what it would take for him to feel that same kind of inner confidence. Oh, he knew what he projected to the world—the tough, I’ve-got-this-handled exterior worked when controlling large sums of other people’s money. But Reece—goddamn her—had that certain way of walking into a crowd.
Whatever the heck that meant.
He’d spotted her as soon as she’d entered the gardens, as if her presence made attending all that more interesting. The air had energized around her, just as it had the night of the fundraiser, and he’d been drawn toward her.
Simon chuckled. “Good God, Fred. He’s made so much money inventing gadgets. That means he’s not stupid. Of course he’d take my advice.”
Uneasiness skipped up Vin’s spine about the tiny charade between Reece and him, but he tamped it down. Whatever it took, right? Still, for the record, Vin said, “FH’s pinnacle product is an endpoint security software system, not gadgets.”
Fred shook his head.
“Whatever.” Simon tossed back his whiskey neat and poured another. “Whatever you do, stick with Reece. I saw Tami Martin practically climbing all over you tonight. Smart move going for Rowe. She’ll clean up your reputation.”
Naughty images of Reece slid through his mind as he recalled their dirty text messages. Tonight’s venue proved the ideal place to fulfill one of her requested fantasies, and if all went according to plan, he’d be the one rinsing her under the waterfall. A great first place to hide the moans he was sure she’d be making.
Fred leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “I wonder if Landon will jump onboard once he sees you’re dating his sister. Simon, you know him. Want to set up the meeting?”
Vin held up a hand. “Let’s not mix my pleasure with this business.” Beyond the deal he made with Reece, anyway.
Simon made a noncommittal shrug. “I’m happy to make the call.”
Vin let out a little laugh. “Somehow, I don’t think dating Landon’s little sister will endear me to him.” At least, it hadn’t helped Tonia’s last boyfriend wanting to pitch his baby sister every dumb idea on the planet.
“Good point,” Simon agreed.
Fred threw out more names Vin had on his wish list of investors. “And Grant Henderson of NeoQuantics is willing to look over your proposal.”
Over the years, Vin had had his share of whiskeys with men in positions to buy his software, to contract to use his technology services, but this networking game—throwing out venture capitalists as potential investors—connected him on a whole other level. “I’m interested in NeoQuantics. They recently acquired a regional bank and a small app-writing company, so they’re in a strong position to buy into FH.”
Simon clapped his hands together. “Excellent.”
Fred pulled out his cell phone and shot off a couple of quick text messages. By the time they’d polished off the bottle of whiskey, he’d not only heard back from Grant, he’d arranged several meetings.
Vin shook Fred’s hand. “I can’t thank you enough.”
“Prove me right, Vin.”
Buzzed on more than the two glasses of whiskey, Vin rejoined the party, a little too impatient to find Reece. Everything was working out—
What the hell?
Reece stood with her sexy as hell back to him, but he could read Landon’s expression with crystal clarity. The man’s narrowed eyes and crossed arms turned to aggressive hand gestures that propelled Vin across the pathway.
“You don’t want to interrupt that sibling squabble.” An arm reached out and stalled him.
“Like hell I don’t.” He spun around to face Amelie, her smirk a little too knowing. What had Reece told her about their arrangement?
Amelie’s pale blue eyes went wide. “Wow, I don’t know if I should be impressed with your protectiveness of her or pity your stupidity.”
He glanced at the siblings and back to Amelie. “Probably both,” he admitted. What had he thought? That he’d swoop in and drag her away from her older brother?
Amelie patted his arm. “Best thing to do right now is tackle the requisite Fox Trot with me.”
He extended his arm. “You’re the birthday girl.”
She surprised him when she groaned. “Ugh, don’t remind me.”
Chapter Seven
“I saw you dancing with Amelie.” Reece tried to sound casual as she followed Vin to an unoccupied table for six off to the side of the room. When she’d finally managed to shake Landon, it was to see her best friend in Vin’s arms, and the sharp pang of jealousy slammed into her unexpectedly. Her mouth had gone dry, even as she’d brushed aside the ridiculous emotion. As if she didn’t have enough to put her on edge, dealing with her brother’s warnings about Vin was a buzzkill that she refused to accept.
“I saw you arguing with Landon,” he countered. “She stopped me from interrupting you.”
Reece frowned but had to admit, “Probably a smart move on her part. My brother is an ass.”
He grinned as he guessed, “Warning you against dating me?”
She heard the vulnerability in his voice and shot him her hottest smile. “All the more reason to flaunt our connection.”
He held the chair for her. “Landing on Landon’s bad side can’t be a good thing.”
Back to business. Shouldn’t surprise her. Her very existence next to him in this moment happened because of business. But as soon as dinner ended, he better be ready to make good on those hot text promises. She reached for her ice water, as if that would cool down her heated thoughts.
“Vin”—she pulled her hair over one shoulder and let it drape over her breast—“do you really want to talk about Landon right now?”
His gaze lingered on where her hand touched the ends of her hair and then with a languid blink focused on her face. “Meet me by the gift table in twenty seconds.”
She had him right where she wanted him. Laughing, she shook her head. “I’m not leaving until after Amelie’s birthday cake. It’s Grand Marnier with butter cream frosting.”
He leaned close to her ear. “Butter cream frosting sound delicious. Think we can take some to go?” Under the table, his long fingers stroked her bare thigh, and an electric current sizzled straight to her core. As he leaned back and picked up his salad fork, his wicked grin told her he knew exactly what his touch did to her body.
She counted all the way to thirty-four before her breathing steadied. Then, even though licking frosting from Vin’s—heat flamed up her neck—body sounded like the perfect way to enjoy buttercream, she teased, “Don’t be cliché. I’d rather dip your”—she flicked her gaze to his pants and up to his face—“in something vintage. I’m in the mood for Willett.”
He choked on his salad, and she used the pause to wave at the Pearsons and the Marjoys just entering the dining hall, who took that as permission to join them.
…
“Come with me.”
Finally. Reece had suffered through the four-course meal and the cake cutting, all while vitally aware of her companion and his sly strokes up and down her thigh whenever there was a spike in the conversation. She had to focus twice as much on the mundane topics of interest rates and travel safety advisories to keep from sounding uninformed. Meanwhile, he seemed unaffected by her subtle attempts to tempt him, as he smoothly transitioned from one topic to the next until their table companions chose to converse with each other and give Reece a reprieve.
She rose, placed her napkin on the chair, and allowed him to steer her away from the crowd. He didn’t stop until they reached the edge of the partitioned perimeter. They stood half hidden by the strategically placed foliage designed to shield the tall carts with rows of trays. The catering staff bustled back and forth, a woman yapped into a headset, but no one gave Vin and her a second glance.
He faced her, and she saw the desire in his eyes. “Ready for the waterfall?”
“Here?”
The image of the natural waterfall leading into the Asian flowers exhibit with tulips, jasmine, and black irises flashed in her mind, and here sounded like the perfect place to begin their…adventure. For whatever reason he’d agreed to this plan, being with him offered her a glimpse into something exciting and forbidden, and despite the risk, with him she felt…safe.
His eyes crinkled at the corners as he laughed at her. “Not right here. There.” The tips of his fingers turned her chin until her gaze faced the direction of the path leading to the Asian exhibit.
She blew out a deep breath. “Let’s do this.” Before she lost her nerve. Now that he stood in front of her, she only wanted to taste him.
He brushed the hair out of her eyes and smiled at her like he knew how she felt. “I’m going to fuck you so hard.”
Her pulse jerked in irregular intervals. She had no response except the way her underwear dampened.
He lifted the thick rope and gestured for her to duck under it. “Follow this path until it dead-ends at the butterfly garden, then take the left walkway toward the waterfall. When you get there, remove your panties and wait for me.”
He dropped the rope and strode back into the crowd, totally confident she’d follow his instructions. She debated disobeying his command for half a heartbeat, but she kept walking, one heel in front of the next for what seemed like forever.
In the darkened night, with the path twisting around shrubbery, the strains of the jazz quartet floating ov
er the night’s breeze soon faded away. Had she walked that far from civilization? Another bunch of steps and she saw the glistening stream. The waterfall would be to the left after the curve in the path. It wasn’t more than eight feet or so in height, but it was natural. It was perfect.
Did he really expect her to take off her underwear? Could she?
Had someone had asked her a week ago if she would stand in the botanical gardens contemplating removing her underwear to have sex, she would have bet her trust fund, and she’d be broke.
She stepped behind a tree sculpture and waited. The trickling water masked any sound, and with barely any light from a not-quite-full moon, she assessed the location and found it remarkably private. She didn’t want to think about how he’d known this would make the perfect waterfall spot, but the longer she stood there, the more her insecurities flared. Clearly, he had more experience. Might have even done it in this same spot with someone else. What if she disappointed him?
Her inner voice scolded her to shut up. It was better he knew what he was doing. Wasn’t that why she’d approached him with her fantasies? No need to be jealous of any women before her. She had him now, and she would not disappoint him. She would follow his lead, and if that meant no underwear, that meant no underwear.
When his shadow approached, those broad shoulders unmistakable even in the dim light, her body responded in the one way that mattered most. How did he manage to make her wet without touching her?
He held a bottle of champagne, and as he pulled out the cork, he said, “Lift your dress, so I can see you obeyed me.”
His gaze never left her face as she worked the dress over her hips. A slick wetness between her thighs already betrayed her arousal, and he hadn’t done anything to her yet.
“Very nice.” He adjusted himself. “See how hard you make me?”
The question was rhetorical, and she couldn’t find her voice, so she gave a small nod.
“Good. Now take off everything but the heels.”
His command shot a burning need through her, and her nipples tightened. Who knew she liked to be bossed around?