Making over Maya (Hot Tide Book 2)

by Michele De Winton

  “Promise.” That was something that was an easy ask.

  “Right, let’s toast to that. And to us getting through to this final. I needs me a big shiny trophy and I reckon the Gold Coast is as good a place as any to earn it. Tomorrow is a new day, yes?” Brooke raised her generous glass and Maya finally let a smile onto her face. Tomorrow was a new day. A new day with Dominic Wolfe. Didn’t share that little tidbit with your BFFs did you? There was nothing to share. He was just another client. One who promised to help her on a whole lot of levels.

  As she took a big swig of her drink, Maya decided it was time to take what life offered and run with it without asking too many questions for a change. Tomorrow could take care of itself.

  Dominic checked out the dress he’d had sent over last night. The dusky rose sheath dress with a matching belt might not be a perfect fit, but it would work so much better than the two toned grey combo she’d rocked, or not, yesterday. What do you care? He cared about who he was seen with. How it looked. Had to. But that hadn’t translated into needing to update the wardrobe of anyone else before. Do you really need to update her wardrobe though? It wasn’t bad bad. No, she was a PR girl after all, but no one needed to wear head to toe grey. Or those terrible shoes. “She just needs a little restyling. I’m helping. She’ll thank me for it.”

  He let the soft crepe silk of the dress fall back into shape. She reminded him of his sisters was all. Pining over some guy who obviously had no idea. He peered out at the beach and saw a kid with a dog on a lead. You taking home strays again? The chuckle came from deep in his chest. There’d been a time where he’d tried to adopt every stray dog he came across. But he was working every hour possible and the dogs were just as sad and lonely as they’d been on the street.

  When he got up to six dogs, he realized he wasn’t doing anyone any favors and had made a large donation to a dog shelter to take them on. Well all of them except Rory. The image of his favorite, Rory, now being dog-sat by his sister sprang into his mind. A scruffy brown thing, with the softest ears known to man. He’d been happy to sleep under Dom’s desk at work and what good was being the boss if you couldn’t make the rules.

  His thoughts flicked to Maya. “So I won’t adopt her. I’ll just use her brains and contacts and pay her for the privilege.” He fingered the soft pink crepe again. And help her win her dream man? It was just for fun.

  There was a knock at the door. Not tentative. Firm. Good. At least she was going to start as she meant to go on. He could definitely work with that.

  “Ms. Taylor.”

  “Mr. Wolfe.”

  “This could get boring quite quickly don’t you think? Call me Dominic, or Dom. I’m going to call you Maya. Please excuse me if I don’t offer you a drink.”

  She nodded briskly. “I really don’t drink during the day. That’s not something you need to worry about. Yesterday was an aberration.”

  “Excellent. What I do need to worry about though is that grey armor you’re wearing. Get inside and put this on.” He pushed the pink sheath at her and pointed to the

  bedroom. “You can change in there.”

  Her jaw didn’t exactly drop, but her mouth definitely opened for a second before she snapped it shut. “Are you giving me fashion advice?”

  He raised an eyebrow. “Are you refusing it? You remember who I am right?”

  She clenched her teeth, obviously trying hard to keep the words trapped inside and maintain her polite sheen.

  He’d been right, this could be fun and it’d work out just how good her PR grip-and- grin cover was too. “We have work to do and I won’t be able to concentrate with you looking like that. He motioned at yet another grey suit. It’s practical, smart even, but it’s beyond drab.” Smiling he indicated the bedroom again. “Or do you have something against pink?”

  “I’m not sure you buying me clothes is really necessary.”

  He waved her off. “I’m hardly buying you clothes. This is just a test sample for one of the women’s lines.” Why’d you say that? Dom looked for a reason for his fib and couldn’t find one.

  “Oh, right. Well I guess that’s okay. But really, you don’t need to get me clothes. I have plenty.”

  “Well see about that.”

  She harrumphed at him before snatching the hanger from his hand and marching towards the bedroom. Excellent. “What was that?” He called after her, hoping the tease came through loud and clear. “Did you say thank you? Oh you’re welcome. No problem. Best I’m not seen out with anyone dressed like they’re allergic to color.”

  Maya came out of the bedroom with her hands on her hips and the rose crepe dress on, rucked beneath her fingers. “My shoes are tan, that’s a color. And that charcoal dress cost me plenty.”

  “Well you were ripped off. It’s too long for you, the wrong color for you, and it’s made to hide the lumps of middle age that you don’t have. This is much better, or it will be shortly.” He grabbed her shoulders and adjusted the straps then smoothed the soft fabric down over her hips.

  Her sharp intake of breath was only rivalled for shock value by the buzz of hot energy through his hands. Dom stood back and narrowed his eyes to cover the impact touching her had had on him. Easy. She’s just a temporary stray remember. Right. Best to get her looking adoptable pronto.

  “Mirror.” He took her by the shoulders and marched her into his bedroom where the built in wardrobes were covered floor to ceiling in smudge free reflective glass. She dropped her head as he propelled her front and center and her hair fell to cover her face.

  “Hey. You look nice. Why are you hiding?”

  She took a deep breath and pulled a strand of hair out of her eyes. “You know how I said I didn’t drink in the day? I think you might be the first client to drive me to it.”

  Dom laughed. “Really? A bit of fashion advice and you’re ready to hit the bottle? You better be made of sterner stuff than that.” Putting his hands round her waist, he adjusted the crepe properly so it sat flush against her hips. She stiffened momentarily before softening into his hands. Under all that grey it had been impossible to tell she had such slender hips, and a tiny waist. Concentrate. “Now if you tighten this like you’re supposed to...” Pushing the buckle up two notches, the belt drew the layers of soft fabric snug to Maya’s body and her figure was instantly revealed. Her trim, tiny, feminine figure. Huh. Fancy that. Cut a good couple of inches shorter than the grey business armor she’d arrived in, the pink dress revealed slender legs to go with her slender hips and despite her mini five foot height, the legs appeared long when paired with the right dress. The dress was cut much lower in the front than her grey dress too. Not indecent, not even sexy by modern standards, but she kept pulling at it as if her small breasts might pop out at any moment.

  “Stop fiddling with it.” Dom slapped her hands away and gently adjusted the folds of the soft fabric again. His fingers grazed the topsides of her breasts as he did so. The flicker of warmth through his fingers was hotter and sharper than anything the simple contact should have generated and charged through his body making every cell stand at attention. I thought you were going to concentrate? He was trying, but her being all coy and cute was not helping. And neither was the tiny peep of red lace he got as he looked over her shoulder from his six foot two height. Red lace. Interesting. Maybe there was hope for her yet. He dropped his hands before they accidentally grazed anything else.

  “Shoes,” he said and she shoved her cheap beige pumps on.

  “No.” He sighed and handed her the canvas flats he’d had sent over.

  “I’m not wearing flats. Not around someone as tall as you.”

  “Yes you are. Trust me.”

  Harrumphing like something from Harry Potter, she slipped them on. “Are all Australians as bossy as you?”

  He ignored her. “Look at yourself. Properly,” he said gently.

  She raised her head and tipped it to one side. Then wrinkled her nose. “I look quite nice.”

  “Quite n
ice?” The smile was part horror, part exasperation. “Tell me, what woman ever wants to look quite nice? And if you say that you like your grey armor more than this…”

  “Okay okay.” She held up her hands in surrender. “I look better in your dress than I did in mine. Happy?”

  “And?”

  She turned to him. “And what? You should be the fashion savior of the universe?”

  The laughter came right from the very depths of his belly. The woman had a streak of snark. Who knew? “I like it. Perhaps we could put that on the website.”

  If she could have poked out her tongue and not looked like a petulant child, Dom was sure she would have. He turned her back to face the mirror. “Seriously, I don’t think you give yourself enough credit. That grey dress gave you shoulders from the eighties without the shoulder pads and it cut off your lovely legs.”

  “Next you’ll be telling me I should have been a fashion model. All five foot nothing of me.”

  “Well let’s not get carried away,” he said and put his hands back on her waist, tucking the end of the belt underneath so it was neat. His hands felt good there. Better than good. The warmth from her skin seeped into his fingers and he spread them wider. They didn’t span her whole belly, she was no Barbie-doll, thank goodness, but tucked above the belt his hands reached up to the base of her rib cage, his thumbs brushing the very base of her bra line.

  He took a breath and caught a waft of her scent. Citrus, with a top note of salt. Dipping his head down closer, he inhaled more deeply and felt her melt a little against his body. Flexing his fingers, he crept them down and over the belt to spread to her hips again. He could pull the crepe up and out the way if he just—a door slamming in the hallway jolted him into reality. You’re helping her out so she can get adopted by someone else remember. Didn’t you promise to sort her love fest for whatshisname? Prince Surfalot?

  Dom straightened his shoulders to ward off the slump at the thought of stopping this—whatever this was. Prince Surfalot was what he’d promised. That’s what she wanted. That’s what he would deliver. She just smelt nice was all. He was always a sucker for good perfume, not that her scent smelt in anyway manufactured. Enough “So, Prince Surfalot. What’s the attraction?”

  She shrugged, then shook her head. “Oh I don’t know. I’m fine when I’m working, even when you’re manhandling me into a dress. But I’m not good when things are truly out of my control. Ask me about Rick Hunter off the record and I have about as much witty banter as a drowning gromit.”

  The beginner surfer reference reminded Dom that they were supposed to be working. What was wrong with him? He never lost focus like this, certainly not when there was so much at stake. Still, this was part of his side of the deal. As small a part as he could make it, but a part none-the-less. “I can’t answer why your witty repartee turns to mush with him. But I can tell you he’s never going to take you seriously as anyone other than a workmate if you continue to dress like you do. Wrong color, wrong cut, wrong fabric, wrong shoes.”

  “I got that. Thanks.”

  He held up his hands and backed away from the mirrored wardrobe, sitting instead on the king size bed in the center of the room. “So, what gives? What makes Prince Surfalot so irresistible?”

  Maya sighed and came to sit on the bed next to him. Her dress rode up a little, giving him a tantalizing view of the tops of her nicely toned thighs. Great. Way to keep the distractions coming.

  “Don’t call him Prince Surfalot.” She looked out the windows and sighed. “It’s the right time. And we fit together. You know, with long term potential.”

  “Isn’t he a surfer? I wouldn’t have put long term and surfer in the same sentence myself.”

  “That’s just it.” She turned to him, her face finally animated instead of solemn. “They don’t usually. But he’s different. He’s solid. Reliable. Consistent. He works hard at competing, he’s great with sponsors and wonderful with the fans. I could really build his brand into something amazing. And I just have a feeling, you know, that it could work.”

  Dom cocked his head to the side. Nothing about love. Nothing about feelings. “Do you have to be together to build his brand into something amazing? You could work with him without the relationship part. I mean, you already do. I don’t mean to be flippant, but it’s not looking like the guy realizes you’re such a perfect fit.”

  She sighed and Dom could have kicked himself. You’re supposed to be helping. “Tell me more about him. Just because he doesn’t realize it yet, doesn’t mean he’s not the perfect guy for you if you can see something there.”

  Maya looked down and her hair fell in her face. That would have to change, Dom decided.

  “We’re both on the surf circuit all the time, we both like dogs, we both love the outdoors, he wants kids.”

  “So it’s the package you’re after?”

  She shrugged. “Who isn’t?”

  “Plenty of people. You haven’t said anything about your chemistry, about the way he looks at you, about how he makes you feel.”

  “He makes me feel safe.” She pouted.

  “And that’s enough?”

  “It’s everything I need. Everything I’ve always wanted.” The determination in her words gave Dom a clear back off buddy warning that flashed too in her eyes as she looked out from under her curling brown hair.

  “Okay. I get it. Question is, does your Prince Surfalot know how to ride a white horse, or at least pay for dinner?”

  This time she rolled her eyes at him. “He knows how to ride a surfboard almost better than anyone else on the circuit. Same thing in my books. I don’t need all the fancy trappings, I just want the happy ever after like you see in the movies. Or maybe on a bank advert. Yeah, a real one, with real people. I have things to do, deadlines I’ve set myself. This is my year and Rick was supposed to be part of it. I want the man who puts out the garbage and takes the dog for a walk. Rick would be great at that. He’d love it. If he could just look at me as more than a work colleague…”

  She’d been hurt in the past. That much was clear with all her talk of stable, solid reliable qualities. But by who and how was not forthcoming. He raised an eyebrow, expecting her to laugh and tell him she was joking about the perfect Stepford picture she’d just painted. The pause lengthened. Nada. She was straight up serious. “Have you tried acting out a little differently?”

  She frowned. “Play acting? Please tell me you don’t have a thing for naughty nurse outfits.”

  Dom almost groaned at the imagery. Why’d she have to go and pick his pet hate? Nurses and needles did not a happy Dominic make. But with the way it just rolled off her tongue—the image of her in white stockings and a too short skirt flashed in front of him. How’d she manage to make his pet hate sound—sexy? “I’d be worried if you even owned a naughty nurse outfit. But that’s not what I meant. You said he needed to think of you as more than a workmate. So have you acted like it? Have you ever asked him out? Ever worn anything other than battle-ready grey? Ever even flirted with the guy?”

  The head droop and hair in eyes look again. Man that was a waste. “Well, we’ve got our work cut out for us that’s for sure. But at least we’ve both agreed to agree on one thing.”

  “Really? What’s that?”

  “I have much better taste in clothes than you do.”

  Maya pulled back her hair from her face, tucked it behind her ear and stared at him straight. “I didn’t say that. You’ve hardly seen any of my wardrobe.”

  He snorted. “You’re really going to try and brave it out in the fashion stakes? Against me?”

  She shrugged. “Maybe I’ve got some gems hidden that you don’t know about.”

  “Maybe. In a closet far far away. But I looked you up on line. There are plenty of shots of you out and about. Pitiful, Ms. Taylor. Pitiful. Fifty shades of gray isn’t sexy when that’s all you’ve got in your wardrobe.”

  The hank of hair she’d tucked behind her ear fell down again. “And anot
her thing. That hair. At least pull it out of your eyes. It’s driving me crazy.”

  She puffed out the air that had clearly been ready primed to form another protest but he didn’t give her a chance. His phone buzzed and he picked it up, putting a hand up to stop her responding. After a couple of curt yes’s he hung up. “Anyway. We’ll get to the rest of your wardrobe soon enough. Right now we need to start talking about my problems. I want to see some of your clients in the flesh. In action. Then I’ll review their portfolios, with an inside info commentary from you. Time to hit the beach lady. Best bring your bikini. I didn’t get my swim on yesterday.”

  “Wait. You want to walk around in this heat talent spotting?” Maya’s face was creased into a frown.

  “Yes.”

  “Why not check everyone out online and then invite them to a meeting?”

  “Because that’s how everyone else does it. Come on.” The rest of this conversation could keep. As could the crazy heat having his hands anywhere near her had generated. Although maybe giving her some real lessons on how to attract a man wouldn’t be out of the question. He stopped himself. Maya Taylor was hardly a damsel in distress. She just needed a new look and new ideas on how to deal with some idiot of a surf champion. Although maybe some practical lessons on how to attract a man wouldn’t be out of the question.

  The thought made Dominic’s grin broad enough to keep up with his last name. Maybe he could play the sheep in wolf’s clothing. Show her how to really loosen up and catch her surf prince. His hands tingled again at the thought of putting them on her body and showing her how real men liked to be wooed. He could get Little Miss Riding Hood to enjoy the ride while he was at the beach, out of the office. She might even deign to wear red once he’d finished with her. He could chalk it up to a holiday romance. Come on. That was out of line and he knew it. Hiring her made him her boss, sort of, and he’d sworn he wouldn’t fraternize with his staff ever again. Not after the last debacle with his manufacturing manager. He’d thought they might actually make something special together, but it turned out they just made mistakes. Lots of them. And if he’d learnt anything from that relationship, it was that he was not the settling down type, certainly not the forever prince Maya wanted to fill out her made-for-movie-life picture. Work was what came first for him. Anything else was just asking for trouble.