In Bed With the Competition

by J. K. Coi

  After leaving the restaurant, though, instead of heading to the elevators he took the first door leading outside and found himself next to the open-air bar. There were more people milling around out here than there had been inside, but he wasn’t in the mood to mingle and went in the opposite direction, following a little garden path dimly lit with lanterns.

  “Ben?”

  Beth.

  He turned to see her sitting on a white bench under the shadowy canopy of a large cinnamon tree. The bench had been tucked away just out of sight of the main path, shrouding her in darkness, but for a sliver of moonlight that ghosted across her cheek.

  She was alone.

  She looked pensive and too beautiful for words.

  He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets and leaned against the tree. “What happened to your date?”

  She cocked her head to the side and looked up at him. “What about yours?”

  So she had noticed him back in the restaurant. “Not a date,” he said. “Are you negotiating with Diego Vargas for investment contributions for your company?”

  She frowned. “Are we going to have a problem if I am?”

  “I can handle it if you can,” he said with a toothy smile.

  She grinned back at him, but he thought she looked a little nervous. “I thought you could.”

  She got up and swung her little purse over her shoulder. “Well, I guess I had better—”

  “Walk with me,” he said, letting the mood take him. He read her moment of hesitation and added, “Unless you’re tired. I know it’s been a long day.”

  “I’m fine. I just…what is it we’re doing here?” She shook her head.

  He thought of the way he’d felt watching her with Vargas in the restaurant, feelings that had nothing to do with business, or friendship. Feelings he’d been trying to reject just like she’d rejected him a year ago.

  “Whatever it is has been coming for a long time now, Beth.” He reached for her hand.

  The look in her eyes was wide and vulnerable, spearing him in the gut. He realized that he could hurt her if he wasn’t careful, but he also knew that wouldn’t stop him from taking this chance. “Don’t you think it’s time we stopped fighting it and see where it can take us?”

  Chapter Nine

  She looked at his outstretched hand, seeing it for what it was. A challenge. An invitation. A promise.

  Liz had certainly been deluding herself when she thought she could handle having a fling with Ben Harrison. It couldn’t happen. They could never be just a “fling.” A fling was something you didn’t put your heart into.

  She took his hand.

  He was right. Back in Seattle, she had valued her friendship with him so much that she’d never allowed herself to acknowledge when what she’d felt had turned into something more than just friendship. She’d denied her own wants and desires to protect that friendship. To protect herself from being hurt by him the way she’d been hurt before.

  And everything had changed anyway.

  So now she was going to do exactly what she’d contemplated since seeing him poolside yesterday afternoon—let go of the past and just focus on the here and now.

  They made their way through the secluded little pathway leading to a short rock wall near the edge of the beach.

  She thought about how quickly winter was coming back home. The leaves had turned color and already lay moldering in the damp streets. The tree branches looked like emaciated wraiths creaking in the wind. Seattle wouldn’t actually get much snow, if any. There’d been a blizzard once last year that dumped the white stuff down overnight, caused havoc on the roads in the morning, and had been gone by lunch time. No, come wintertime, snow wasn’t the problem. It was the dreary, constant rains that made everything cold and gray and damp. Depressing.

  Here the sun shone like a beacon of contentment during the day, and the moon looked like a glowing opal in the night sky. She couldn’t imagine the weather ever being anything other than perfect.

  Liz breathed deeply. The air felt like freedom, and she drew it in, letting it coat her insides. She was a little upset that she’d missed the sunset. The stars glittered, tiny specks of diamond against black velvet. Hard to believe it was the same sky that was so often obscured by clouds back in her neck of the woods.

  She hadn’t been out to the beach since arriving on the island, and the crashing surf called to her. She couldn’t resist and didn’t want to. Her heart beat faster as she glanced at Ben.

  With a small smile, she walked through the open gate in the wall. Her tall, narrow heels slipped into the sand like hot spikes through butter, sending her off balance. Carefully, she bent and took them off. Holding them by the straps in one hand along with her clutch, she walked out a little further, digging her toes in the sand. It was still warm from a day under the hot sun.

  “Isn’t this wonderful?” She sighed with pleasure and looked over her shoulder with a smile.

  He waited just behind her, leaning one hip against the wall. His gaze never left her. “You’re pretty wonderful,” he finally said.

  She felt the flush that went all the way down her body, but the memory of him sitting across a table from the beautiful Meredith Stone was still close. He’d said it wasn’t a date, but she knew she didn’t have all the information about the two of them.

  She looked him up and down with a sigh.

  “What is it?” he asked.

  “I wish we could take a walk along the beach, but it’s getting late. Tomorrow will be busy; we’ll have a lot of work to do.” He looked ridiculously amazing, but that suit wouldn’t last long against the sand and surf.

  When he bent down to remove his socks and shoes and rolled his pant legs up to mid-shin, she laughed. He straightened, holding his shoes with two fingers.

  Feeling suddenly carefree, she let her sandals swing from her fingers and started walking, delighting in the sand between her toes and the breeze that tossed her hair across her face. When Ben fell into step beside her and took her hand, she thought she’d never been happier than in this moment.

  They came across a flagstone path leading to a little greenhouse surrounded by a small hedge. Liz rushed forward and peered through the glass, squinting to see beyond the shadows to the greenery inside. “It’s so strange to find a greenhouse right here on the beach,” she said. “But isn’t it gorgeous?”

  Ben pulled open the door and motioned for her to go inside. “Oh no, we shouldn’t,” she said, holding her breath.

  “Why not?”

  “I don’t think this is part of the resort. What if we get caught trespassing on someone else’s property?”

  He looked around at the deserted beach. “I promise to break you out of prison if it becomes necessary,” he teased. “But I doubt anyone will mind if we just take a quick look inside.”

  That was so…Ben. Reckless and bold, daring her to keep up with him.

  Liz paused inside the screen door, still nervous about the idea of intruding on someone else’s private space, but the rush of steamy air and sweet perfumes pulled her another step forward. And another. Ben found a lantern and some long wooden matches on a worktable. When he lit it, the greenhouse came alive with soft colors.

  Soon she was lost in the beautiful plumeria and allamanda. She ran her finger very gently over the tight bud of a deep red rose and marvelled at the different colors of bougainvillea falling out of pots hanging from the low ceiling.

  She spun around slowly and stopped in front of Ben with a sigh of wonderment. “Isn’t this the most romantic place you’ve ever seen?” she whispered, afraid to destroy the magic she felt here with too much noise.

  He came closer, twirling a hibiscus flower between his fingers. He dragged the petals across her cheekbone and tucked the stem behind her ear. In the low light, his eyes looked stormy and dark, as if they could barely hold back his intensity.

  “I remember how much you love flowers.”

  “I still do,” she admitted. “But it’s
so hard to keep anything green at home because I inevitably kill all my plants with neglect.”

  “Maybe you work too much,” he murmured.

  She raised an eyebrow. “This, coming from the man who defines the word ‘workaholic’?”

  “You’re right. I don’t even have time for fake plants.” He chuckled like that wasn’t the exact reason why the two of them could never be more than just a passing fancy.

  As hard as she’d worked to start her business, she knew that she could put the time into it now because she didn’t have a family to care for. But she wanted that family someday, and she absolutely refused to plan her life around a man whose career consumed his whole existence. It was one thing to neglect some houseplants, and quite another to break two innocent children’s hearts with the same kind of neglect.

  At the same time, she couldn’t blame him for how he felt. He’d only ever mentioned his father to her once, during a rare moment of vulnerability back in college. He’d missed an entire day of classes, so she’d known something was up. Sure enough he’d been at home, sicker than a dog. His mom had been out of town and when Liz asked if there was anyone else who could stay with him, he’d recounted fragments of the tragic story as if he was halfway living it through a feverish dream. The rest she pieced together on her own.

  Ben’s mother had apparently written to the man with whom she’d had a wild but brief affair when she realized she was pregnant but never received any response, so she struggled to make ends meet on her own for her and her baby. Although they were never more than barely comfortable, the two of them managed. The boy turned out to be a gifted student, especially in computer science and economics, and during the summer after high school, with a full scholarship in his pocket and a bright future ahead of him, he’d optimistically decided to look his father up on his own.

  Liz had pictured the hopeful posture of a proud young man approaching the father he’d been dreaming about his entire life. But the asshole hadn’t even given him a chance. He’d rejected Ben’s very existence and threatened to sue for defamation if either he or his mother ever contacted him again.

  “What’s the matter?” he asked.

  She blinked and plastered the smile back on her face. He touched the flower at her ear and let his fingers trail slowly back down her cheek until the smile felt real again and she shivered with the need for him to touch her everywhere. “It’s almost as beautiful as you are,” he said.

  She ducked her head and cleared her throat. “I suppose we should get out of here before someone sees the light and comes to investigate.”

  With a teasing grin at her paranoia, he followed her out of the greenhouse, and they continued on down the beach. They walked for a while, both of them quiet. Liz opened her mouth more than once to say something, anything, but each time she changed her mind, loathe to rupture the odd, relaxed mood that felt heartbreakingly nostalgic.

  At the shoreline they stopped. The tide gently washed in and out, covering her coral-painted toes one minute and leaving them chilly and wet the next. Sand shifted under her feet like the world was falling away. She was going to need to wear this dress at least one more time and couldn’t afford to buy a new one just because of a whimsical walk along the beach, so she backed away before the salt water could rise any higher than her toes.

  She backed right into Ben and stumbled, but he caught her by the waist, his big hands riding up her rib cage.

  “Back up,” she screeched, lifting the hem of her skirt to her knees. “The water will ruin my dress.”

  He just laughed, and instead of helping her out of the water, he swung her up into his arms and waded in deeper. “What are you doing?” She threw her arm around his neck in a death grip. “You’re going to ruin your suit, too.”

  “It’s okay. I’ve got another one.”

  She smacked his arm with the flat side of her purse. “I’m sure it was expensive. Don’t be an idiot. Put me down.”

  “Right now?” His eyes gleamed with mischief. They were shin deep in the sea. He started to drop her, his arms lowering. “All right. If you insist.”

  “No, wait! Over there.” She pointed to a sandy rise away from the water line. “Please.”

  Ben shrugged and stepped back, arms tightening under her knees and behind her back until she was pressed so close to him she could hear his heart beating. When he stopped and let go of her legs, she found herself sliding all the way down the length of his powerful body.

  Good lord. She shut her eyes and held her breath until she felt the wet sand beneath her feet.

  “Is that better?” he asked in a husky voice, still holding her close.

  She blinked and nodded. The lightly teasing atmosphere between them had flipped so quickly into something else, something taught and heated. She was left breathless, unsure whether her legs would hold her, staring up at his mouth and wanting to be kissed so badly it was an ache.

  “What’s the real reason why you wouldn’t come to New York with me?” he asked.

  She had to think, search her brain for the meaning of each of his words and then piece them together, because as much as she’d been staring at his lips, she hadn’t paid any attention to what was coming out of them.

  With a shaky breath, she pushed away, took a half step back, and forced a grin. “Do we really have to talk about that?”

  He ran his fingers softly down her arm, which was too red from the sun today. Had it only been a few hours ago that they’d been frolicking in the water in nothing more than their bathing suits?

  From anyone else, the touch might have been innocent, but not from Ben. She recognized well enough that there was a wealth of meaning and intention in everything he did, the only question was whether or not she was willing to see it, accept it, respond to it.

  “I know it wasn’t because you didn’t like the way I kissed you.” He leaned down to kiss her again now, taking his time and proving to them both that she liked it very much. So much that she was gripping his arms and making little sounds of need in the back of her throat before he was done.

  “That wasn’t fair.” She groaned at his tactics. “Maybe I didn’t go to New York because I know you play dirty.”

  His gaze turned solemn, as if he could sense that she was only half joking. After what he’d gone through with Jeffrey Olsen, she could see why that would be a sensitive issue for him.

  “You want the truth?”

  On either side of her face, his thumbs gently traced the line of her jaw as he looked down at her. “Always.”

  “You scared the crap out of me,” she admitted. “You’re on this speeding train heading right to the top of the world, and nothing’s going to stand in your way until you get there. I knew it even then.”

  “You’re not in my way, Beth. We’re on that same train, aren’t we? And there are enough seats in the captain’s car for the both of us,” he said with a crooked smile, obviously amused by her imagery.

  She shook her head. “No, we aren’t, Ben. We don’t want the same things, and I knew it even then. I didn’t want to hold you back.”

  He frowned and dropped his hands. “That’s bullshit. I don’t understand what you’re—”

  “I don’t want to talk anymore.” She crossed her arms. “I just want to make more of those memories we started earlier.” His expression was tight. She knew how stubborn he could be when he was after answers, but the last thing she wanted was to spend this beautiful night rehashing the past between them. “Please,” she begged. “Tonight has been so perfect. Let’s not ruin it.”

  Finally, he stepped back and made an exaggerated bow in front of her. “Would you care to dance?”

  Her heart skipped, and she looked around at the empty beach. “Here? There isn’t any music.”

  He tapped her gently in the middle of the chest. “The music is there. You just have to listen for it.”

  A cloud had drifted in front of the bright moon, obscuring Ben’s features as she stepped closer. She couldn’t remembe
r the last time she’d danced. He took her hand, and she automatically went up on her tiptoes, imagining the music. What came to mind wasn’t soft or romantic, but aggressive, powerful, and fierce. A symphony of sound that drowned out her misgivings.

  Heat flooded her system as his arm closed around her waist, and she didn’t feel the cold water rushing over her toes anymore. All she felt were sparks. Sparks and lights. Enough to turn the whole island into the fourth of July.

  It was a perfect symphony.

  …

  The breeze had picked up, drawing pieces of her hair behind her and leaving her nape and shoulders bare as he twirled her just to watch her laugh. The waves crashing on the beach matched the pounding of his heart, thundering with anticipation. When she spun to a stop, breathing hard, he pulled her close again and moved them to a slower beat so he could feel her slide against him.

  He took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Her breathing hitched and her eyelashes fluttered closed as he bent to cover her supple, glossy pink lips with his. The rush of molten heat and the sizzle of powerful electricity raised the hair on his arms. Her mouth parted as she tilted her face up and traced the shape of his lips with her tongue, surprising him with her boldness.

  A year ago, he thought he’d had Beth Carlson all figured out. He hadn’t even considered that she would say no to him when he kissed her. They’d been dancing around their attraction for one another for so long, it became laughably obvious to one and all. He’d actually thought he was doing them both a favor by kissing her and putting their feelings out there in the open. But he’d been wrong, and he was realizing that he’d been wrong about a lot of things.

  Including that the reason she’d refused to go with him to New York had nothing to do with her deciding that he’d somehow betrayed their friendship by kissing her, and it had nothing to do with not wanting to get in the way of his career.

  She’d been afraid then, and she was still afraid. He could see it in the spots of color blooming over her cheekbones and in the wary set of her jaw. He could feel it in the tension of her shoulders even as she danced with him.