by Lily Cahill
Skye bit her lip, but she couldn't see the catch. "Fine."
She got out of the car before her hormones got the best of her.
Skye had read about Alegria in the Gazette food column, but the reviewer's rapturous description of its authentic decor hadn't done the restaurant justice. Walking through the door, she felt as if she had been transported directly to Spain. Tinkling fountains and trailing vines created private enclaves where diners languorously selected tapas and sampled exotic drinks. It was impossible to believe that Chicago's gritty streets were just beyond the walls.
She followed the waiter to a secluded circular booth with padded seats below a tiled wall. There was room for four in the booth, but Marcus slipped in beside her, sitting so close she could feel the warmth of his body.
What in God's name was she doing here? Her last date had taken her out for pizza, and he'd been just as greasy as the pepperoni. Marcus couldn't have been more different. He was so handsome that half the women in the room were staring at him. Probably wondering what he's doing with me, she though, opening her menu with a snap.
The menu had no prices. With a sigh, Skye resigned herself to blowing her entire restaurant budget on this one meal. Still, from the lyrical descriptions on the menu, it might be worth it.
When the waiter walked up to the table, he was carrying two glasses and bottle of champagne. Skye looked suspiciously at Marcus. "Where did this come from?"
"I've been here before," he said, casually stretching an arm across the booth behind her. "Good evening, Tom. Tell Remy I'm here."
The waiter inclined his head and disappeared.
Skye turned to Marcus in a huff. "I didn't ask for champagne."
"Ah, but this is not champagne," he said as he poured her a glass with a boyish grin. "It's an experience."
She rolled her eyes as she took a sip. It was the most delicious thing she'd ever tasted.
He watched her take a second sip with a satisfied smile. "Good?"
She cocked her head at him. "It's all right, I suppose."
He tossed his head back with a laugh. Her fingers itched with desire to touch the soft waves where it curled over his black shirt. "You are a tough nut to crack, Skye Sylvester."
He was so gorgeous, he didn't seem real. She took another sip of champagne before she admitted he had already cracked her composure.
Was everything since the moment the mugger knocked her on the head a dream? That would explain this fantasy man, this gorgeous restaurant, this intense desire. That would explain the bear she thought she had seen the night of the mugging. No matter how often she told herself it was impossible, the memory of the bear's fur under her hand was so clear. It was almost the same shade as Marcus' hair.
In an attempt to regain her focus, she pulled her recorder out of her clutch bag. "I want to begin by talking about B3."
"Sure. But first, you have to try these." The waiter set a platter of plump shrimp on the table. "Remy uses this black sea salt that really brings out the flavor."
"When did you order these?"
He waved a hand. "Remy knows what I like. Really, you must try these."
He held the shrimp up to her mouth. With an exasperated sigh, Skye let Marcus slip the shrimp past her lips.
Big mistake. He watched her lips close around the morsel with rapt attention. Her lips were almost touching his fingertips. Their gazes met. It was as if an electric current sparked from his eyes straight into the core of her.
The shrimp, predictably, was the best shrimp she'd ever eaten. "Delicious."
He rubbed at a crystal of salt that clung to her lip. "Yes, it is."
Skye sat back abruptly. "B3. What do you know about them?"
Marcus sat back as well, but she still felt too close to him. "A loose conglomeration of companies who often work together. It's not uncommon for businesses to have ongoing relationships."
"And your development company has an ongoing relationship with B3?"
He selected a shrimp of his own. "I have ongoing relationships with a number of companies."
Skye set her jaw. "Stop being evasive."
He lifted that eyebrow again. It was infuriatingly sexy. "I'm answering your questions."
When she sputtered, he simply poured her more champagne. "It's your turn to answer something for me. How's your head?"
She touched a hand to her forehead. The swelling had gone down, but it had taken all her skill with makeup to cover the bruise. "It's fine."
"No residual issues? No headaches or hallucinations?"
It was odd that he'd ask that. "No, nothing."
"Good. I'm glad I got the chance to see you again. I was worried about you."
The genuine concern in his eyes widened the cracks in her shell a little more. What if this was a date? What if he actually was interested in her, if only just for sex?
Well, then, she wasn't going to let the opportunity slip away. She was no fool. Even if they only had sex once, she was certain the memories of a man like Marcus would be enough to last a lifetime.
"Thank you, Tom," Marcus said as the waiter brought two more dishes. "You must try this tapenade. It's like caviar."
"I don't know what caviar tastes like."
He smiled. "You will. Tom?"
The waiter nodded. "For your entrées, Remy suggests the seafood pasta and glazed pork with apples."
"Very good. And another bottle of champagne."
Tom slipped away again before Skye had a chance to say a word.
"What if I wanted something different?"
"Then we'll call him back and change the order. But honestly, I would trust Remy. He's the expert."
"What is it that makes the Rothbury property so special?"
She'd hoped to catch him off guard with the abrupt change of subject, but it didn't work. "Have you visited the property?"
"Yes."
"And what did you think of it?"
"Remote. But very beautiful."
Marcus nodded. "Then you've answered your own question."
"Did you find the property and bring it to B3? Or did they come to you?"
"B3 has been looking for a piece of land near Chicago for some time. Someplace where their members can get away from it all."
"Members?" She pounced on the word. "So there are members. Not just loosely affiliated companies."
"Try these mushroom caps. You'll love them."
"Marcus." It was the first time she had used his given name. It felt surprisingly intimate on her lips.
His posture softened, and she wondered if he felt the same. "Yes, there is a membership component. As to what, exactly, membership requires, I can't speak to that."
"Can't or won't?"
He merely smiled. "It is more interesting to me that a straight-forward property deal is attracting this kind of attention."
She ate a mushroom cap while she contemplated how to answer. Maybe if she primed the pump with a little information, he'd be more forthcoming. "The Gazette received a tip you were planning on drilling for oil."
His brows drew together. "Never. That land will stay wild as long as it's owned by B3."
She scoffed. "You wouldn't be the first property developer to say one thing and intend another."
His eyes darkened, and for the first time Skye wondered if she had crossed the line. "Nothing is more important to me than protecting the environment."
"By building on it?"
"By caring for it," he corrected. He leaned in, his intensity magnetic. "Do you have any idea how much that land has been neglected? The trees need to be thinned. We're lucky there hasn't been a forest fire already. Some of the creeks are choked with refuse that was washed downstream from other properties. The former owner put an electric fence around the border. Do you know what that does to natural animal territories?"
"But you do intend to build on the land?"
His blue eyes were almost electric with passion. "Yes. And I assure you that the retreat will use state-of-the-art technolo
gy to create the absolute minimum of environmental impact. Don't you understand ... I'll do anything to protect this land."
Skye sipped her champagne to soothe her suddenly dry throat. "I didn't realize how much you loved it."
At that, he balked. "Love is a strong word."
She cocked her head. "Don't you believe in love?"
For a moment, he just started at her. The naked desire on his face staggered her. Then his expression closed and he sat back. "In my experience, love leads to irrational decisions. It can be damaging, even disastrous. Give me an iron-clad contract any day."
She experienced a painful sinking in her chest. But why should it matter how he felt about love? She knew that a man like him--a powerful, important man--would never be interested in a woman like her for the long term.
But in the short term ... she was having dinner with a handsome, charismatic man. She was determined to enjoy it.
Chapter Ten
Skye
By the time the meal was over, Skye was pleasantly full and a bit tipsy from the champagne. She'd intended to eat sparingly, but everything was so incredible she hadn't been able to resist. Besides, Marcus seemed to enjoy watching her eat. Plate after plate of gorgeous food had arrived at the table without a visible signal from him. Eventually Skye stopped tallying the bill in her head and enjoyed.
She tried to find out more about B3, but the conversation got away from her. Who would have thought that a man this wealthy and attractive would have a sense of humor? It turned out they shared a love for disaster movies, the more absurd the better. His impersonation of a giant lizard's battle cry had her giggling.
Though they had both grown up in Chicago, he knew parts of the city that were completely foreign to her. She realized how barren her life had become--she was either in the office, at home, or working on a story. Marcus clearly worked hard, but he also spoke of restaurants he loved, museums that inspired him, and concerts he'd enjoyed. The gulf between their lifestyles was enormous, but she found herself enjoying his company all the same.
Dessert was small balls of crispy fried dough filled with chocolate cream and served with a rich raspberry sauce. Marcus watched her hungrily as Skye licked some chocolate from the side of her mouth. Under his breath, her murmured, "So fucking sexy."
Her whole body was tingling. Doubt seemed pointless when he was so clearly attracted to her. Boldly, she selected another pastry and, meeting his eyes, took a slow, sensuous bite.
He slid closer. The lights of the restaurant had dimmed, and the circular booth felt intimate and private. He took the second half of the pastry and fed it to her himself. "Do you have any idea how much you turn me on?"
She shook her head. It was embarrassing, but she told him the truth. "No one's ever looked at me the way you do."
His eyes darkened. "I want to do a lot more than look."
He laid a hand on her thigh. Skye felt it like a brand. His thumb was moving in small circles on her skin in a tempting invitation.
"I've got to taste you," he said, his voice husky with desperation. And she wanted it, wanted him, with an intensity that stunned her.
Then her eyes fell on her recorder, still documenting every word.
She pushed away. "I want ...." She swallowed hard, tried again. "I want to see your plans for the property."
He sat back, stunned. "What?"
"Your plans. You must have some. I want to see proof that the tip I got about you wasn't true."
"Jesus. Do you really think I'm some sort of environmental predator?"
"If I'm going to go back to my boss and tell him there's no story here, I need to see how you intend to develop the land."
His jaw was tense. He wasn't looking at her anymore. Skye felt the absence of his gaze like standing in shadow after being warmed by the sun. "My job comes first," she said, to him as much as herself. "I shouldn't get personally involved with you."
"Fine," he said, standing abruptly. "Let's go."
"But ... we haven't paid."
"I don't pay here," he said. "Remy's an old friend. I helped him set up this place."
"You did?" Skye looked around the lavish, almost feminine decor. "I wouldn't have thought this was your style."
That eyebrow went up again, but this time it was more cruel than sexy. "If you truly think that I would do what that tipster accused me of, you don't know me at all."
He stalked away, and she had no choice but to follow.
Chapter Eleven
Marcus
Marcus shoved a bill into the valet's hand, barely acknowledging the man's shocked gratitude at the amount. His stomach was churning with rage and arousal.
Goddammit. Goddammit. She'd tortured him through the meal with her sincere and sensuous enjoyment of every morsel. He'd made her laugh and vowed that he would make her do so again and again. She was bright and interesting and beautiful, everything he could have wanted in a mate.
Not that he wanted a mate. Not that he believed in all that fated-mate business anyway. But he wanted her, and he was going to have her.
She stepped up beside him. He didn't turn to look at her, but he could smell the strawberries in her hair.
They remained silent as the valet brought the car around. The silence continued as he drove away from the restaurant. Finally, she turned to him in a huff. "Really? This is how you are going to act?"
"How should I act with someone who treats me like a stranger?"
"You are a stranger!" she said, tossing up her hands. "We barely know each other."
He knew she was right. "It pisses me off that you think so little of me."
She scoffed. "But you think so little of me that you assume I'll just believe every word you say? You may have forgotten, Marcus, but I'm a reporter. It's my job to investigate this tip."
"So when you've got all the information you need, your job is done."
She was looking at him suspiciously. "Most likely."
He sent her a hot look. "Then I'll show you my plans. But after that, Skye ... after that it's just you and me. Just a man and a woman. You'll have to decide what you want from me then."
He whipped his car into the entrance to his underground garage. Lights turned on automatically as the heavy steel door rolled up. "Where are we?" Skye asked with a hint of trepidation in her voice.
"My place."
"But...this is the alleyway where I was mugged."
"Yeah. That's why I was walking by when you stumbled out of the alley," he said. He hoped she didn't hear the guilty lie in his voice.
She turned a curious eye on the garage full of cars and bikes. For a second, he was tempted to offer her one. He didn't like the idea of her taking the El all the time. But he guessed, based on her ridiculous determination to pay her own way, that she wouldn't accept.
He led her to the elevator, wishing she wasn't wearing those high heels. The way they clicked on the cement of the garage made him think of her long legs and swaying hips.
They rode the elevator straight to the second floor, where he kept his home office. He could sense her curiosity about his house, but didn't bother turning on any lights or giving her the tour. If she wanted to see the plans, she would damn well see the plans.
His office was large and comfortable. A solid oak desk was reflected in the large television, which he typically kept tuned to the financial news. A leather couch, long enough to accommodate his tall body, sat with some heavy chairs in the corner.
Instead of offering her a seat, he led her directly to his drafting table. He wasn't an architect, but he liked to draw out his vision of what he wanted from a building to give to his design team. He flicked rapidly through a sheaf of papers until he found the one he was looking for. He laid out the large drawing and flicked on the light that was clamped to the table.
Skye's gasp was audible. "Oh, wow. It's going to be gorgeous."
Just like that, all the anger drained out of him. "I'm glad you think so."
She continued to examine the dr
awing. "It doesn't seem big enough to be a retreat."
"This building will house our dining, leisure, and spa facilities. The guest rooms will actually be ...," he paused as he pulled out the next drawing.
"Tree houses?" Her delight was so obvious that he couldn't help but smile as well. "But won't it be hard on the trees to bear that much weight?"
He shook his head. "We use this synthetic material that is ten times lighter than concrete, but just as strong. Which allows us to build full apartments around the trees, bringing the outside inside."
She nodded. "These look amazing."
He was in his element now. "Do you see how these windows go from floor to ceiling? They are treated for privacy, as well as heat and glare. When you're standing inside, you'll be able to see everything but no one will see in."
"How many will there be?"
"Ten. Scattered throughout the property."
"What about the winter?"
He smiled. Most bear shifters enjoyed a good romp in the snow. "There will be snowmobiles, skis, and snowshoes available. The seasons shouldn't change anything."
"What else is being built?"
"We'll keep a garden large enough to be self-sustaining, and a barn for pigs, chickens, and the like. Other than that, nothing."
"Nothing?"
"The land itself is enough. You said you saw it?"
She nodded. Her eyes went a little dreamy. "It's beautiful. I walked around for almost an hour. I wanted to explore more, but I'm not much of a country girl."
"When it's built, I'll bring you out to see the final product."
She turned to look at him. "You're so sure you'll be able to build it?"
"I think you are underestimating my determination. I want this property. Nothing--no competing buyer, no silly rumors--are going to stand in my way."
"And when you are done with the project?"
He shrugged. "I'll walk away. Find something else. I'm not big on permanence."
She nodded slowly. "In all things?"
He had the feeling they weren't talking about the project anymore. "Yes. It's best when everyone involved knows the partnership won't last forever."
