I took it. I was dripping all over his bare feet, after all. And while I’d felt covered in the clear water, I now felt nearly naked in my salmon-colored bikini. Which was the point, but still. “Okay,” I said, as I wrapped the terrycloth around the ends of my hair. “I’ll bite. What kind of woman is that?”
“The kind who won’t take help from a man.”
There had been a time when nothing could be further from the truth. I’d been very dependent on men, relying on one or another of them to put a roof over my head, keep me fed and clothed and entertained.
But that was years ago. Now I only counted on myself. That was perhaps the hardest part of the role I had to play—giving up the control I’d gained. Submitting.
If that was what it took to get the answers I needed, I’d do that and more.
I tilted my head to squeeze the moisture from my hair on the ground next to me. “That’s not so. I took your towel.”
His eyes were still hidden, but I knew he was checking me out. I could feel his gaze skidding across my skin, sending goose bumps up my arms. “That’s nothing.” His attention landed on my breasts. “There are hundreds of towels stacked around here.”
My cheeks heated, sure that his choice of the word stacked was purposeful. Because there was no denying that’s what I was—stacked. My breasts had come in early and grew rapidly, swelling until I filled a double D cup. They’d embarrassed me as a teen. No one else flopped and jiggled like I did in gym class. So I hid them behind baggy shirts and sports bras. It wasn’t until I’d met Amber that I realized the power I’d been given through genetics. She taught me how to embrace my body, how to use it for my benefit.
With those lessons in mind—with Amber in mind—I pushed away my discomfort and bent over to run the towel up and down my limbs, exposing my cleavage. “That’s proof that you’re wrong. I could have easily gotten my own. I accepted it from you.”
“You have a point there.”
I had two points, actually. My nipples were standing tall and proud. It was the morning chill, of course, more pronounced after the heated pool, and I wanted to fold my arms over myself when I stood back up. But I forced myself to follow their example and rose up as tall and proud as they were.
When I did, I was met with my shoes. Reeve must have gotten them while I was swimming. He held them out to me now.
With a sigh, I took them from him. “You really want me gone, don’t you?”
“What can I say? I like my routine. Swimming alone is part of my routine.”
“Huh. I didn’t take you for a man who was rigid.” The media made Reeve Sallis out as impulsive and erratic. I was familiar enough with the difference between public perception and reality, but knowing Amber as I did, it made more sense that Reeve was that guy than the one he was playing at now.
He clicked his tongue at me like he was chiding a naughty child. “Now look who’s making premature judgments.”
“Touché.” I sat on a deck chair to buckle my sandals. Leaning over to do it would have just been gratuitous at this point.
“But while I’ve got you here…”
I tensed as he undid the belt of his robe. I can do this, I can do this, I chanted to myself. This was what I’d come here for—to do what was necessary, no matter how much I didn’t want to. Back then, I would have done far more for far less. And, I noted as Reeve discarded the item of clothing on the chair behind him, with far less attractive men.
Goddamn, Reeve Sallis was hot.
Like sizzling hot. He wore nothing but trunks—thank the lord it wasn’t a speedo—revealing a perfect swimmer’s body. His arms and torso were long and sculpted, his shoulders broad, and his waist trim. The six-pack he sported was nearly an eight-pack, and the muscles around his abdomen were so defined, so hard that I barely resisted the urge to lay my hand across them. My mind couldn’t process how solid they would feel beneath my palm and wouldn’t it be amazing to just find out?
While I was ogling—and probably drooling and definitely not breathing—he sat on the chair and faced me. “I hope you don’t mind. I was getting a little warm.”
It was getting a little warm. More than a little. And it wasn’t the modern fire pit running nearly the entire length of the pool behind our deck chairs that made my skin scorch on the inside.
“Uh, of course I don’t mind.” Though, it sort of sounded like I did mind. Really, I was just disappointed that was the reason he’d undressed.
Jesus, Em, what the fuck? You’re bummed that he didn’t want you to blow him? Really, I was disgusted with myself. I mean, it was great that he wasn’t unattractive considering what I’d probably have to do with him eventually, but what kind of bitch would I be if I looked forward to it?
Maybe old habits died harder than I had thought. I couldn’t decide if I wanted that to be the case or not.
Reeve was apparently unaware of the battle going on in my head. “Good,” he said. “Then we should probably talk.”
“Interrogation time? I suppose that’s to be expected.” With his newly exposed body, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to concentrate. And he had yet to take off those glasses, which was unnerving. Perhaps that was exactly why he kept them on.
“I’m glad you see it my way. If you didn’t, this would be a whole lot less fun.”
I finished fastening my shoe and sat up. “Is it fun now?”
His forehead wrinkled as he tapped a long finger against his lips. “I haven’t entirely decided yet.” His declaration came out low and raw, and it seemed, more honest than he’d intended.
Immediately, he changed gears, moving his hands to grip the arms of the chair. “But back to the interrogation. Why exactly are you here?”
It wasn’t what I thought he’d ask first. I’d been expecting “who are you,” but that he’d chosen the other question spoke volumes about my progress with him. He didn’t care who I was. He only cared that my actions interfered with his own plans.
Dammit.
If my plan was going to work, Reeve had to want to get to know me. At least he hadn’t dismissed me yet. I still had a chance to reel him in. “I’m here because I wanted a morning swim.”
A hint of a brow peaked up over the frame of his glasses. “I assume you’re a guest at this resort.”
I bit my lip and nodded slowly. Even after our banter, there was a chance he could have me kicked out. A very good chance. Maybe the lip bite could make me seem virtuous.
Who was I kidding? He’d seen the girls. Once my chest was displayed, I’d lost all shot at claiming innocent, even if I truly was. And I wasn’t.
The interrogation continued. “There are six other pools open to the public. This is the only one reserved in the morning for my personal use. Why did you choose mine?”
“I wanted the privacy.”
“Wrong.” He said the word as though he were buzzing a player out on a game show. “This wasn’t about privacy. It couldn’t have been easy for you to get in here. You went to a lot of trouble.”
My shoulder hitched up in a nonchalant shrug. “It really wasn’t that much trouble.” That was actually the truth. I’d discovered pretty easily that any manager had the power to program my resort key card to let me in to the pool during Reeve’s reserved time. A few days of prowling and I’d found a night manager who seemed he would be vulnerable to my seduction techniques. He was twice my age, balding with a ridiculous hairpiece. I’d been prepared to give him a hand job. Turned out he could be bought with a hundred. That had surprised me. I’d grown up with my body as my only asset, and I’d learned to use it. I was still getting used to having money as an alternative.
He frowned. “That doesn’t speak well for my staff.”
“Or it speaks well for me.”
“Ah. You don’t want to get anyone in trouble.” It wasn’t a question.
Teasingly, I tapped my own lips and threw his words back at him. “I haven’t entirely decided yet.”
He laughed. It was a good sign.
&n
bsp; “You see,” I said, lacing my hands and stretching them above my head, “I’m not loyal to the person who helped me. But on the other hand, I’m not loyal to you either.”
He leaned forward, a smile dancing on his lips. “You’ll tell me if I ask you.”
“Maybe. Are you asking?” I’d totally throw the manager under the bus. But not yet. It was information that he wanted that I had—it kept him engaging with me. I’d likely keep the secret until the next time we met, no matter how much he asked.
That was the idea, anyway. Then Reeve surprised me. “I’m not asking. I don’t really care about my staff at the moment. I’m more interested in you.”
My pulse kicked up like I’d downed a shot of espresso. Because it was a victory. Because it was a moment of triumph. There was no other reason I cared. No other reason his interest keyed me up.
Reeve steepled his hands together then pointed them toward me. “Why this pool?”
I mirrored his leaning, lacing my fingers together and resting my chin on top. “I wanted to meet you.” Needed to meet him. I had a long list of questions and as far as I was concerned Reeve Sallis had the answers.
“The truth comes out. Why would you want to meet me?” He seemed honestly perplexed.
“Are you joking?” There were certainly thousands of women who wanted to be his bimbo of the month. Word was he treated his sex toys well. He had enough money to lavish on them without even noticing a dent in his wallet. Then there were those who likely wanted to meet him just to claim the brush with fame. Plus he was, well, hotter than a man had a right to be.
But if it was flattery he needed… “You’re a very interesting human being, Reeve Sallis. Not to mention, you’re easy on the eyes. More than easy on the eyes, actually. Who wouldn’t want to meet you?”
“I can name quite a few people, and I’m sure there are many more that I can’t name. You could have met me in other ways.” Though he’d verbally ignored my comment about his appearance, his mouth twitched ever so slightly letting me know it had pleased him.
Why did that make my belly flutter?
It didn’t. It was nerves. It had to be. I transferred the emotion to my words, letting my voice get breathy and unsteady. “I wanted to meet you alone. Without your goons and your public.”
“A lot of people would be scared to be with me alone.”
“Who said I wasn’t scared?” I should have been scared. He had a reputation that, as far as I could gather, was either completely fabricated or totally underplayed. The former was more likely, but what if it was the latter? What if I was truly unsafe in his presence?
It was also possible that I was scared. In all honesty, it was probably the core of his allure. But I couldn’t let fear or captivation take over. I had no other choice but to see my plan through. For Amber.
Reeve tilted his head. “That’s an interesting combination of traits—a stalker who’s scared.”
“Only scared enough to make it fun.” Strange that I once lived for that kind of scared. “And not a stalker, Mr. Sallis. I merely have a curiosity that gets away from me.”
“I like your curiosity. And your philosophy on fear.” He shifted gears again. “I think I may have started off with the wrong line of questioning. I don’t even know who you are.”
He removed his sunglasses, and I couldn’t help but gasp. His eyes… At the surface, they didn’t seem special on their own. A common blue and gray that could be easy to overlook. His brows were the prominent feature, what most people likely noticed. They were thick and arched. They darkened his expression and distracted from what lay in the icy pools below them.
But his eyes caught me. There was something I recognized in them—a sorrow or a longing that was both gripping and haunting.
I saw myself in those eyes.
Reeve noticed. As soon as he did, he looked away, scanning the horizon. I didn’t blame him. Small as it was, it had been a revealing moment. Far too intimate for strangers.
When he turned toward me again, he’d hidden whatever it was that I’d seen. “There’s something familiar about you, though. We haven’t slept together, have we?”
I laughed. “No, we haven’t.”
“Good.” He clarified before I could feign indignation. “I mean, I’d hate myself if I’d forgotten you.”
“You haven’t. And you won’t. Forget me, I mean.” I meant to allude that we’d sleep together eventually. It was as close to offering myself as I’d get. Anything more would be slutty and set me up as one-night-stand material. I needed to be more like flavor of the month.
More important at the moment was the delivery of my name. I had to be honest—I was too recognizable not to be. There was no reason to be deceitful about it anyway. If Amber had mentioned me ever, she would have used my real last name, not the one I’d taken on when I’d reinvented myself. There was a chance, of course, that she’d figured out my new identity. A possibility she’d mentioned it in passing—Oh, that girl? You know, the voice on that sitcom? I used to know her…
It was a risk I had to take. I extended my hand. “It’s Emily. Emily Wayborn.”
Reeve hesitated—was he as determined to be in control of our first contact as I was?
Whatever his reluctance, he quickly overcame it, taking my palm in his. His grip was strong and sure and aggressive. Almost too tight, but just barely not. He held it without saying anything for several seconds, and, I don’t know how—somehow, though—I knew he was making his own allusion. His own promise. He wanted me to know what he’d be like.
In bed.
With me.
He’d be powerful and controlling and forceful, even. Almost too forceful, but just barely not.
Was that how he’d been with her? Did almost become too much?
I couldn’t let myself go there. So instead of entertaining the thought further, I entertained a new one—Reeve Sallis had good hands. Really good hands.
After what seemed like ages and yet not nearly long enough, he let my hand go. “A qualified pleasure, Emily Wayborn. Qualified because you did interrupt my swim time.”
“Qualified pleasure is the only kind I seem to give.” That had come out dirtier than I’d intended. Or maybe exactly as dirty as I’d intended. God, my confidence in flirting was nil. “Anyway, I get the familiar thing a lot.”
“It wasn’t a line.”
“I know.” Though for half a second I worried he found me familiar for other reasons. Because I was like Amber. We’d been inseparable and so much alike at one time, everyone thought we were sisters. But that was years ago. I’d changed so much, even if she’d stayed exactly the same.
No, it was the other reason he found me familiar. “It’s because I’m famous.” I sounded embarrassed because I was. “My voice is famous. I’m the computer on NextGen.”
“You’re joking.”
“Nope.” I took a deep breath and then repeated my famous catch phrase in the lilting tone I saved for the show. “User error.”
He laughed. Heartily. Like, full belly laugh.
Really, it was funny. All the years I’d worked to keep my figure, going to audition after audition trying to land my big break, and when I finally did it was in a role that only utilized my vocal cords. The hit show of the past two seasons, NextGen was the story of a family living in the not-too-distant future. Pitched as the movie Her meets the old cartoon The Jetsons, I played the part of the household mainframe—the computer that controlled each and every aspect of their lives. Practically overnight I was recognized by thousands, but only when I spoke.
Funny thing was I had a knockout body. A knockout body that no one ever saw. I got the humor in it. Really, I did.
When he’d stopped laughing enough to speak, he apologized. “I’m sorry to say I’ve never seen it. But I’ve heard about you. The show, I mean. It’s quite a hit.”
“It’s…” There was nothing to say except, “Well, it pays the bills.”
He smiled again, and this time I noticed the hint
of a dimple. “At least I can be assured you aren’t after me for my money.”
It was my turn to laugh. “I don’t make that kind of dough. And who said I’m after you?”
“Aren’t you? Well, if you’re not, that’s a shame.”
My belly flipped again. I had him intrigued. It was time to make my exit. Next time I’d bump into him more casually, more seemingly accidental, and then, if I was good, he’d ask me out. “I’m sorry for intruding on your morning, Mr. Sallis.”
“Reeve,” he corrected.
“Reeve.” His name slid off my tongue a little too easily. “I’ll let you get to your swim now.”
I stood, and he followed. “After all the trouble you went to, you’re not going to stay and watch? I’m disappointed.”
It was tempting. I scanned his amazing body once more. He probably looked like a god in the water.
But I had to leave with the upper hand. Leave him wanting more. “Is it a lofty goal to want you to learn you can’t have everything you want?”
“It is lofty. And not true.” His voice grew deep and certain. “I want you to join me for dinner. And you will. Won’t you.” It was a statement—plain and clear.
And, damn, I hadn’t predicted that. “When you put it that way, I suppose I will.”
“Tonight. Seven-thirty. In the Cherry Lounge.”
“I thought the Cherry Lounge was closed.” I’d been at the resort for more than a week and the room had been off limits the entire time.
“It’s closed when I’m in town. It’s where I dine. It’s where we’ll dine.”
Though he hadn’t moved, it felt suddenly like he was closer to me than he’d been only a second before. As though his presence had extended out from his body, invading my own space. It flustered me, but I managed, “Formal or casual?”
“You can’t come as you are?” He grinned a grin so wicked that I knew he meant the double entendre, and, though I shot him a disapproving glance, I also smiled. And I shivered. Because while I had ulterior motives for getting close to him, Reeve Sallis got to me. I’d read about his natural charm and sex appeal, but nothing had prepared me for the fullness of it in person. It was indescribable. Any adjective I tried to pin on him felt contrived and unoriginal. He was magnetic and provocative and commanding.
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