Burned Deep

by Calista Fox

  A smile spread over my lips.

  “That’s the one,” I said to the clerk.

  “You’re in luck. It’s a one-off we received by mistake. I believe it’s your size.”

  I’d never been into the whole cosmic-kismet-destiny stuff like some of the New Agers in town, but I knew a sign when I saw it.

  The garment was a deep emerald, as close to Dane’s eyes as one could get, because nothing quite matched their dynamic magnetism. The dress was amazingly beautiful and I couldn’t resist it. I’d made my mind up before I’d even seen the price tag, which did make my heart stutter.

  Luckily, the Delfinos had already paid me in full for my services, sending the last installment with a gorgeous thank you bouquet last week. Along with an invitation to the second reception they’d planned for the newlyweds in Scottsdale, upon their return from a honeymoon cruise and two weeks in Aruba.

  I also needed a new pair of black shoes, since mine were more functional and less complementary of my purchase. So I added four-inch heels to my shopping spree and hoped like hell I wouldn’t hurt myself when I wore them.

  Returning to my townhome, I left the dress in its sealed bag, hanging it in my now-empty closet. I’d have to deal with that disaster later, because I still had work to do. I went into the spare bedroom and sifted through e-mails and then magazines, looking for visuals that would inspire me when it came to some of Shelby Hughes’s scrambled thoughts on decorations and themes. I liked the creative process, understanding that not every bride had a full idea of what she wanted, just bits and pieces that needed to be puzzled together.

  As the sun dipped over the golf course on which I lived, my stomach grumbled. I made pasta and considered watching a movie, but my mind wandered too much. I grabbed my tablet, flipped the switch on the gas fireplace—since tonight’s storm brought the temperature down as the rain fell heartily—and settled on the sofa with a glass of chardonnay.

  I needed to do a little research.

  Dane had studied up on me; it was time I did the same.

  I Googled him and found all kinds of links that led to articles, interviews, and, of course, a Wikipedia page. The latter was a little disconcerting. Actually, every item I devoured was disconcerting. Not just because the word billionaire jumped out repeatedly—completely unsettling me. It was the lack of any substantial details that alarmed me most.

  I learned he was six-foot-three, though I’d already suspected that. Thirty years old, born to a Philadelphia society family—also lacking details aside from their extreme philanthropic efforts decades ago and the very simple d. that denoted they were both deceased. No explanation given. No dates.

  That was definitely odd. Causing a chill to run along my spine.

  I further learned Dane had graduated from Harvard summa cum laude, having completed the Thesis Track in Economics. He’d built his first boutique resort in Lake Tahoe. Then revived a hotel/casino in Las Vegas. And now he had the Lux.

  Just like that.

  I frowned. Literally, those were the most revealing details of the man that I could find. Nothing at all personal.

  Had he played sports in school? Did he date supermodels? (The blond-haired woman from El Rincon flashed in my head.) How the hell had he made all of his money—was it strictly from an inheritance?

  And who was capable of containing so much information so that only the essentials were provided? How much did that cost?

  My stomach twisted as I recalled his comment regarding money being the root of all evil … and the ensuing hard set of his features. This intrigued me the most. It was a strange thing for a billionaire to say.

  Then again, I imagined there had to be a dark side to amassing such wealth. My parents were a prime example on a much, much smaller scale. Finances had always been an issue for them. My mother had been obsessed with being one of the pampered “ladies who lunch” in Scottsdale, where I’d been born. She’d spent just about every penny my dad brought in from his PGA tours. She’d put substantial pressure on him to win a championship, a Masters, anything and everything that would garner the massive bucks. And when he’d failed because of his injuries … things had taken a serious dive.

  He’d been devastated all the way around. Afterward, when the electricity or water was sometimes shut off, he’d shrug and say he’d forgotten to pay the bill. Around the time I was sixteen or so, I’d discovered the truth. He was flat broke. She’d taken him to the cleaners, big-time—financially and emotionally. And it hadn’t been until he’d scored the GM position at the club in Sedona that he’d dug himself out of the hole.

  There were so many things about my childhood that made me shudder when I checked my own balance online. Though I had a safety net with a savings account, I still lived in fear of not being able to make ends meet. Especially since we’d moved to a sketchy part of downtown Phoenix after the fallout. I honestly couldn’t take scorpions crawling up the walls again or crouching in corners if I had to leave Sedona and find something more affordable in the Valley.

  I’d been so relieved when my dad had moved us here with his new job. So relieved, I’d cried for a week. He’d never really known why, because we kept stuff like that to ourselves.

  Setting aside the tablet, I reached for my wine and sipped while I pushed aside my dismal and sometimes horrifying childhood and instead contemplated the ambiguity around Dane Bax.

  Why so secretive? And what drove him to build, according to all news reports, what was projected to be the most lavish resort in North America? What was his next goal—a hotel to rival the only seven-star resort in the world, the Burj Al Arab in Dubai?

  That extraordinarily ambitious aspiration made my palms sweat. Because the determined set of Dane’s jaw and his steely gaze made me believe it was a distinct possibility. And he was only thirty, after all.

  Anxiety roiled through me.

  Maybe it was best not to know so much about him.

  As I tried to alter my mind-set from the gorgeous billionaire, while streaming Breaking Bad, my phone buzzed with an incoming text. I paused the show and read, my spirits plummeting.

  Saw your feature in SW Weddings, my mother wrote. You must be doing well for yourself.

  I stared at those words, fighting the dread that came with the sinking feeling of what is she up to now?

  * * *

  Late Saturday afternoon, I tried to relax with a bubble bath—impossible—then carefully did my makeup and hair before slipping into my new dress.

  The driver arrived promptly at seven. We left the townhome and drove through Sedona, heading west, then north to a striated red-rock canyon. The scenery was spectacular as the sun began to set over the mesas. I loved this time of night, because of the way the rays illuminated the various hues of orange and red on the pinnacles, which ranged in size and shape from mountainous to tall, artistic sculptures and spires.

  Set amongst it all was 10,000 Lux, also situated near several ponds and streams with placid mirrored surfaces. The grounds were lush and stunning, the foliage all meticulously trimmed and vibrant. I caught glimpses through the decorative black wrought-iron and gold-leaf fencing that stretched between cream-colored columns topped with enormous gaslit lanterns, winking seductively against the encroaching twilight.

  A sense of exclusivity enveloped the property, the kind that created in people of lesser good fortune the mysterious yearning to be a part of something beyond their reach.

  We passed through the guards’ booth at the gate and took the winding stone driveway lined with trees and beautifully crafted fountains to the enormous circular entrance, surrounded by more manicured lawns, topiary hedges, and waterfalls. Being one of those people of lesser good fortune, I stared out the window in complete awe.

  The resort itself was sensational, even in its reported state of late construction, of which there was no evidence in the front. The lobby was four stories of large, symmetrically shaped windows, all illuminated with a golden glimmer that came from chandeliers so huge I could s
ee them from the drive.

  Full vines climbed the stone walls, strategically placed, impeccably arranged. I’d expected a fancy porte cochere out front but then realized a ramada would detract the eye from all the grandeur. Clearly, I wasn’t the only one who’d deduced that.

  All in all, I was thoroughly mind blown. And I hadn’t even gotten out of the gleaming Jag yet.

  A valet swooped in, already in uniform despite the hotel not being open. He wore stylish black tails with white gloves. I instantly felt underdressed, though I loved the mini and had spent enough money on it to give myself heart palpitations.

  Damn—shown up by a valet. I should have pulled out my prom dress from the closet in the spare bedroom.

  But no, that would have been complete overkill.

  Unless, of course, Dane sported a tux, too.

  Panic slithered down my spine. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into with him. This was supposed to be a job interview, right? Except that it was also dinner, and I’d dressed that part, hadn’t I? I should have played it safe and simple and worn a business suit.

  As I waded through my confused thoughts, the spiffed-to-the-hilt gentleman opened my door and greeted me with a friendly smile. “Welcome, Miss DeMille.”

  I slipped from the leather seat, staring up at the gorgeous facade of 10,000 Lux.

  “Mr. Bax is waiting for you just inside the entrance. I’ll escort you.”

  My breathing turned shallow. I hoped like hell I didn’t botch this. I was already nervous over the fact that I’d applied for a position here and, of course, seeing Dane.

  Or, more accurately, having dinner with Dane. Being alone with Dane. Being within fifty feet of Dane.

  I had no delusions; I knew I was in over my head. Did that stop me from proceeding with caution? No. I was too sexually charged, too intrigued, to give in to my wary side.

  The valet pulled open one of the tall wood-trimmed glass doors and gestured for me to lead the way. I stepped into the lobby, doing everything in my power to appear calm and collected. No-go, really.

  Holy shit.

  There he stood.

  Dane Bax.

  I couldn’t breathe again.

  Only he could outshine and outclass his surroundings.

  I could probably come up with some clever and evocative words to describe the inside of 10,000 Lux. At the moment, all I saw was the veined creamy marble floor that led straight to Dane. It took several seconds for anything else to register.

  He stood alongside a gorgeous round mahogany table that served as the focal point of the lobby and that likely would fill my living and dining room combo. A gold, silver, and copper-painted vase about as tall as I was in heels stood sentinel in the middle of the table, filled with ecru blooms and dripping verdant leaves. Above it hung the mammoth chandelier. Others decorated the ornately designed ceiling, defying gravity throughout the cavernous reception area. All impressive, but the main fixture was a showstopper.

  My wide-eyed gaze dropped to Dane. He glanced up from his iPhone and our gazes locked. He grinned. The ultra-sexy one that was really just the hint of a smile.

  My heart skipped a few necessary beats.

  “Good evening,” he said in a somewhat formal tone.

  I lost my voice again.

  The grin deepened—he must have known he left me speechless.

  He took several long strides toward me, since I’d barely made it through the doors when I’d gone into shock. Everything was just so … perfect.

  Especially him.

  Dressed in a black suit with a pewter shirt opened at the neck, he was devilishly handsome. His hair was a tousled mess, wildly stylish. His emerald eyes glowed warmly, invitingly.

  “That will be all, Brandon,” he said to the valet, dismissing him.

  “Of course. If you need anything, Mr. Bax, I’ll be right out front.”

  Not that he had guests to assist. Must be a quick slip outside for discretionary purposes.

  “Are you all right?” Dane asked as he regarded me closely.

  “Sure,” I managed to say. Then, hoping to break the ice, I added, “Should I be wearing a hard hat?”

  He chuckled, low and deep. The sound resonated within me, heightening my arousal. How was that even possible? I was absurdly turned on from just the sight of him.

  “You’re safe, I assure you. The construction’s complete in the main building. We’re just finishing decorating of the suites upstairs and the penthouse. The casitas on the back portion of the property and the indoor aquatic center and its two restaurants are still being built.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of the chandelier.” I spared another glance at the one we stood under. “Looks like it’d wipe out an entire village if it fell.”

  “I promise it’s not going anywhere.”

  “Right. Okay.” Butterflies got the best of me. I was nothing but a bundle of nerves—not all of them emotionally jumping. Most of them were sizzling and snapping at the hint of his cologne wafting under my nose and the fact that Dane Bax had the most spellbinding presence I’d ever encountered.

  He stepped aside and said, “Shall we?”

  I finally noted that he’d kept a respectable distance when he’d joined me. Not crowding me at all. And he didn’t take my hand or offer his arm.

  He’d seen my reaction to Kyle Jenns when he’d reached for me—not to mention everyone else who’d laid a hand on me the day of the Delfino-Aldridge wedding. He’d come to my rescue because of it all.

  Clearly, he’d picked up on my minimal-touching stance. A thought that really should have pleased me. So why didn’t it?

  Because you want him to touch you.

  All. Over.

  Good point.

  Regardless, I maintained a few feet between us and started walking.

  “Up the stairs to the mezzanine,” he instructed, following along with a slow, measured gait.

  I eyed the elegant sweeping staircases on either side of the main portion of the lobby and asked, “Does it matter which one?”

  “No. We’re heading straight out to the veranda.”

  I ascended the marble steps, holding on to the fancy black wrought-iron banister because my legs shook a little from nervous anxiety—or were my knees weak from Dane?

  “Did you design this place yourself?” I asked.

  “Yes. Over the course of several years and with help from engineers and architects, naturally.”

  I wanted to ask him how someone so young could afford to finance such extravagance but that seemed rude. And I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer. I was already sufficiently overwhelmed and intimidated by everything about him.

  Except that his disconcertion over the money comment he’d made while we’d waited for our cars at the resort still ate at me. There was something there, something to latch on to. I just didn’t know what it was and that perplexed me greatly.

  I tried to stay on safe ground. “What about the name?” I inquired. “I suspect it’s not Lux as in luxury, though this is certainly the very definition of posh. The pinnacle of it, really.”

  He kept a span of two steps between us. Not that I could breathe any easier because of it, but at least I could speak now.

  His eyes held a roguish shimmer. “What do you think it means, then?”

  I smiled. “Lux is an industry term. Well, in audio-visual, that is. It’s the luminance of light boxes or projectors. Ten-thousand lux is the equivalent of full daylight on a surface. Brilliant light.”

  He grinned again. An appreciative one. “You catch on quick. Very few others get it—just my A-V guys.”

  “Hmm.” I figured that was one more exclusionary element to this breathtaking venue. “Clever.”

  He winked. My pulse shot through the roof.

  We reached the mezzanine and he directed me through more intricately trimmed doors to a long terrace with the same railing as the stairway and outer fencing, rounded where a portion of the veranda jutted out in a
semicircle over the magnificent courtyard.

  This particular spot was just the one to show off the vast grounds and striking outbuildings. I couldn’t even fathom how many acres the resort sat on. It was like we’d entered another world. A glittery, astounding one that boggled the mind. Disneyland wasn’t this magical. And, wouldn’t you know it? The clouds had thinned out for the remainder of the sunset and it was as awe inspiring as everything else surrounding us.

  “What do you think?” Dane asked in a quiet voice.

  “I think you’re a genius.”

  He chuckled. I stared at him over my shoulder.

  “I was hoping you’d like it.”

  “What’s not to like?” I asked.

  “Indeed.” His gaze turned smoldering and I knew he wasn’t talking about the resort. “You fit in here.”

  Flames danced along my skin at his sensual look. My internal temperature soared, even though it was a balmy seventy degrees outside. He moved next to me and rested a forearm on the railing, casual and yet … so engaging. My eyes followed his graceful movements.

  “I’m trying to be cool and not trip on these shoes as I take it all in,” I admitted.

  “You’re doing just fine.”

  “I’m used to thicker heels, mostly because they don’t get stuck in the grass like tent spikes during outdoor weddings and garden receptions.”

  And there I went again … rambling.

  “Doesn’t matter what you’re wearing. Though that dress is sensational. Interesting color choice.” He gave me a knowing look.

  I flushed. “I happen to like green.”

  “Hmm,” he said, using my own vague response. Apparently, he’d deduced why I’d chosen this particular garment. He stared awhile longer, an all-consuming gaze that sparked a peculiar yearning deep within me. Then he pushed away from the ledge and moved past me, pausing to lean in—close enough that his very essence surrounded me despite him not being too close—and said, “You’re stunning.” He strolled off.

  I stood where I was, the yearning becoming a dull ache that pulsed erratically in my pussy, a radiant longing for something elusive. It was almost painful—because I liked how my body responded to Dane. Even though I knew I shouldn’t.