by Calista Fox
He said, “I’ve dealt with plenty of obstacles with my other two properties. These are just more … tedious.”
“Versus?”
His jaw set. Amazingly, I knew that look. Within a month of meeting him, I could identify the dark expression that screamed his desire to sidestep my question.
“Dane.” I refused to be sidestepped.
He regarded me awhile longer, then said, “Legitimate.”
I didn’t exactly follow. He caught on.
“The troubles I’ve seen in the past with bringing up a hotel were all predictable. Textbook, really, so I’d anticipated them and could easily combat them. What’s happening at the Lux…” He shook his head. Angst rolled off his tongue as he said, “This is more targeted.”
His eyes deepened in color, his forehead crinkled with dismay.
I reeled from just one word.
Targeted.
As in, specific issues, an expensive prank of sorts, or … sabotage?
I didn’t get the chance to ask and was stuck with my off-the-charts inquisitiveness where Dane was concerned. My father and Ethan joined us. I made the introductions.
“Thanks for inviting us,” my dad said as he shook Dane’s hand. My dad wore a guarded expression and his tone was a bit strained. He totally knew something was up. Did Dane and I exude our attraction to each other? Granted, he did stand a bit too close. Couldn’t seem to take his eyes off me.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Dane said. “I’m a fan.”
“You’re not old enough to remember me.”
“Sure I am,” Dane insisted with a smile. “I started golfing when I was in high school. You were in The Open that year.”
He’d retired not long after that.
“Well, it wasn’t a win, unfortunately.”
“But an incredible showing.”
“Thank you.”
Dane didn’t overdo it. He said, “Shall we?”
We each grabbed a club from our cart and warmed up, me putting and the guys pitching and chipping. At ten o’clock, we hit the first tee. Dane and Ethan demonstrated impressive drives, though my dad edged them both out by several yards on the fairway. I smiled inwardly. Dane would naturally draw out my father’s competitive side and it’d be fun to see him so into his game again.
I teed up last, from the women’s ledge, and my ball landed not too far from Ethan’s.
Dane grinned. “Excellent swing, Miss DeMille.”
I smirked, since no one could see it as I sauntered past him. “Smart-ass,” I whispered. “Call me Ari.”
“That’s not exactly what I want to call you, either.”
Baby popped into my head. A thrill ran down my spine. “Don’t you dare!” My cheeks flamed.
He chuckled. “Just keeping the ball in my court.”
So he was on a power trip … because I’d been poking and prodding?
I joined my dad in our cart and we were off.
The tracks ran fast and I had to adjust my game a bit to accommodate the challenging fairways. It was a fabulous course. Although I was a bit disgruntled over the strokes I racked up, I said at one point, “This is almost on par with the Robert Trent Jones Golf Club on Lake Manassas.”
“You’ve played his Virginia course?” Dane asked, looking duly impressed.
“Sure. My dad was always getting invitations to exclusive clubs. He took me most of the time.”
“No wonder you’re so good,” Dane said as we walked toward the green.
“I should be better,” I admitted. “I need to get out more.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem now. I do have five new courses for you to explore.” He winked.
I couldn’t help but think, once again, that perhaps meeting him really had been fated. I wasn’t sure a supermodel would be excited by the prospect of playing award-winning links.
Dane chatted up my dad on the next several holes. Though I could tell my father was a bit suspicious, he couldn’t seem to help but like Dane—that magnetic personality again—laughing heartily at some of his jokes and giving him pointers on his swing.
My good time, however, came to a screeching halt when I dropped in a bunker.
“Fuck me,” I grumbled under my breath.
“I will again,” Dane muttered from behind. “Soon.”
Heat rushed through my veins. “Don’t you have a ball in the rough to go find?”
He gave me his sexy smile. Yeah, my game was shot to hell now. I nearly tripped over my own two feet at the way he looked at me, all possessive and brimming with lust.
While he went in search of his ball from his only slice, I caught up with my father and grabbed my sand wedge and putter. He’d overshot the green and left the cart to trudge over the hill. Ethan was the only one who’d neatly landed close to the pin.
Softly swearing a blue streak, I took three swings at my ball. It hit the wall of the trap each time.
Suddenly there were strong arms around me, large hands covering mine on the club. Dane’s deliciously hunky body pressed against my backside.
“From this angle,” he said as he put my arms in motion, “come down right behind the ball. Really slam into the sand.” He guided me confidently through the practice swing.
Seriously? He expected me to concentrate on golfing when he was wrapped around me, fully surrounding me, his commanding presence seeping through my body?
Not a chance.
“This is the bane of my game,” I told him. “I hate making a mess.”
“Sometimes it’s necessary in order to get what you want.”
“Are we still talking about my swing?”
“No time to waste. Your dad is almost at his ball.” Currently his back was to us.
“It’s not exactly easy to focus on anything other than you when you’ve got your arms around me.” And with all of those rigid muscles melding to my curves … Lord have mercy.
Dane’s lips grazed my temple as he murmured, “Glad I get you all worked up.”
“You don’t know the half of it,” I confessed.
A dark sound fell from his lips, arousing me further. “Probably a good thing, or I’m going to have trouble walking. Your father will slug me and I’ll have to let him, because it’s well deserved while I’m thinking about how tight you are and how wet you get for me.”
I smiled through the lusty sigh swelling in my throat. “We’d better get out of the bunker or he’ll catch us like this and slug you anyway.”
“Do what I said,” he instructed.
“So bossy.”
With a snicker, he said, “You don’t know the half of it.”
“Funny.”
“Do it.” He continued to guide me, though he mostly allowed me to pull back, then sweep forward with the club, hammering the bowl of the trap with so much force, sand went flying—so, too, did my ball. Right up and out of the bunker and onto the green, rolling sweetly to the hole and plopping in.
“Holy shit!” I shrieked.
Dane’s arms instantly dropped and he took a step back. My dad’s head whipped around and he gave us a curious look.
My pulse raced from Dane and my great shot. “It’s in the hole!” I yelled at my father. “No hand wedge this time!”
His gaze narrowed on me. Then shifted to Dane. I felt like a teenager busted for breaking curfew. And with a man four years older than me—one my father did not appear to approve of me hanging out with.
More tension ensues.
“Grab your ball,” Dane said. “I’ll rake.”
While he tidied up, I retrieved my ball. Ethan and my dad putted theirs in. Dane chipped onto the green. His ball also rolled straight into the hole.
“Show-off,” I teased quietly.
“I like to win, remember?”
Sure enough, he trumped my score and Ethan’s. Came in several strokes away from my dad but that was to be expected when you played with someone of PGA caliber.
We left the clubs for the staff to clean and I hit the ladie
s’ room inside the lobby of the gorgeous restaurant that featured a patio almost wrapped all the way around it and overlooked the lush lawns. Across the courtyard from the dining room was an outdoor cantina, where I met up with the men.
A Bloody Mary bar was set up and I loaded a small plate with bleu cheese–stuffed olives and shrimp-and-bacon skewers. I dropped a cilantro sprig into my cocktail.
A cool breeze swept through the covered patio. The huge double-sided fireplace was lit and tall heaters with glass pyramid-shaped tops had roaring flames inside them. Not exactly necessary but they added to the ambience.
We settled at a round stone table for four and talked about the course and the club. Although it was quite striking, it didn’t compare to 10,000 Lux by any stretch. Even the Robert Trent Jones property couldn’t compare to the Lux. It was in a class unto itself. As was its owner.
I tried not to hang on his every word, but that was near impossible. I tried not to stare too long at him. That, too, was near impossible.
He sat next to me and I could feel his heat, sense his presence, drown in all the tingly sensations he so easily evoked, without even touching me.
And that was another ragged-edge feeling, because I wanted his hands and mouth all over my body. Desperately. Like nothing I’d ever imagined.
I pressed my thighs together as desire hummed between my legs, taunting me. My napkin slipped from my lap and Dane and I reached for it at the same time, my shoulder bumping his rock-hard biceps.
“Sorry,” I mumbled.
He collected the napkin and lightly placed it in my lap. My pulse spiked. I was sure my father caught the hitch in my breath. Ethan, too. Damn it. I willed some composure. But I was just so intensely aware of Dane. And my body was so responsive to him that his nearness sent me into sensory overload.
Lust quickly vanished, however, when I caught sight of Mikaela Madsen strolling casually across the courtyard. Heading in our direction. My spirits plummeted with every step she took toward the busy cantina. Naturally, she’d be a member at this exclusive club.
She reached our table and the men stood as Dane made introductions. I reluctantly followed suit.
She was gracious, dripping saccharine as she greeted Ethan and Dane—her hand on his arm, as seemed to be her custom. As though she had some sort of claim over him.
Did she?
Eventually, she turned fluttering eyelashes on my father and damn it all to hell, she knew exactly who he was. And he didn’t mind in the least the way she fawned over him.
When her attention finally fell on me, she said, “I’ve seen you with Dane—at Tlaquepaque and then at the Delfino’s last night.”
“Yes. Meghan is a former client. And a friend.”
“She’s very sweet. We play tennis together on occasion.”
“Are you joining us for a drink?” Ethan asked.
“I’d love to, but Brizio is already warming up. We tee off in a few minutes. I just stopped by to say hello. And Mr. DeMille, I must say, it’s quite an honor to meet you in person.”
I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
To me, she said, “And a pleasure to meet you as well, Airy.”
“Ari,” I corrected.
“Right. Sorry. Have a great day, everyone!” She gave Ethan and Dane air kisses and then swept off toward the course.
I fought the urge to grind my teeth. Luckily, my father and I had finished our Bloody Marys. I was ready to be on our way, needing a chance to regroup. The intertwining of my dad and Dane—and Mikaela Madsen?—in my life was a complicated predicament. One I needed to untangle as quickly as possible.
A server came by and my dad asked for the check, pulling out his credit card.
“I’d like everything on my account, please,” Dane said to the pretty brunette who had as much trouble tearing her gaze from him as I did.
“Of course, Mr. Bax.”
To my father, he added, “Please, allow me. It’s not every day I get to golf with someone of your skill.”
“Thanks, Bax,” Ethan lamented, albeit factiously.
My dad graciously shook hands with the two men, thanking them for the outing. He invited them for a complimentary round at his club and they both agreed they’d take him up on his offer.
My dad said, “I’ll bring the SUV around and get our bags.”
I handed over the keys. Ethan told Dane he’d have the valet fetch his Mercedes and their clubs. He left with my father.
“You two valet-park here?” I asked Dane.
“Of course.” He leaned in close and said, “See, that didn’t go so badly.”
“My father is onto us. He’ll grill me the entire drive home.”
“Why? Because I couldn’t help watching you walk the fairways?” Desire tinged his emerald eyes. “You have the perfect sway to your hips. Feminine. Sexy. Tempting.”
“You just love keeping that ball in your court, don’t you?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. Devilishly. “Are you wet for me right now?”
I fought the blush. To no avail. “Yes.”
“Good.” He took my hand. I gave a slight tug but he didn’t let go.
Hemming and hawing was a hard habit to break. He tilted his head to the side and scowled.
I heaved an exasperated sigh. “You don’t seem to get that this”—I motioned to our linked hands—“is a big deal for me. You’re moving too fast.”
“What are you so worried about?”
“Everything.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” he insisted.
“You can’t make that promise. Shit happens.” I shrugged, though this was no nonchalant matter. “There’s nothing you can do about it. When it’s over, it’s over. And someone always gets hurt when the end comes.”
His expression darkened. “I asked you last night if you’d been hurt. I’d meant physically, but now I’m asking about emotionally.”
“I told you no—that applies to both. Emotionally, I’ve never allowed myself to be in a vulnerable position.”
Until now.
Because I clearly couldn’t control what transpired between us. He’d proven that when he’d tied my hands and kissed me until I’d begged him for more. Until I’d absolutely had to touch him or die.
He led me out of the cantina and across the courtyard. He stalked, I tried to keep up. When we were almost at the archways of the entrance, I pulled my hand from his. He drew up short and glared at me.
“I don’t care if he knows,” he said of my father.
“I do.”
His jaw clenched.
“Dane,” I said, hearing the compelling plea in my voice. “I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know what’s really going on with us, except that I can’t seem to stop it or slow it down. I’m constantly thinking about you.”
I winced at that particular confession.
His jaw loosened and his bunched shoulders relaxed. “I don’t have a problem with that.”
“What do you have a problem with?”
“This isn’t exactly familiar territory for me, either, Ari. But I don’t know how to hold back when there’s something I want. I go after it.”
“Regardless of consequences?” Not that I really thought he’d suffer repercussions from pursuing me. Men like Dane Bax could contain their degree of involvement; not fall in love; fuck without turning it into anything too personal. He was powerful and very much in control of his environment. I’d witnessed this, experienced it enough with him to state it as fact.
I faced the firing squad alone. Not exactly a comforting thought.
He said, “I evaluate the risks. But this is something I’m committing to despite whatever dangers you think it poses to you. This is inescapable, Ari. Even you have to admit that.”
I took a deep breath. Let it out slowly. Why did I have the feeling that if I’d not sought out Sean, Kyle, and the others in the bar that day I’d still have found myself in this predicament with Dane? Fate was a crazy thing, after all.
“My father’s waiting,” I said as an excuse to step away from the flame and try to get a better handle on the situation.
“You can’t pretend this isn’t happening,” Dane warned.
“I know. It’s just—”
“I’m staying in Scottsdale tonight. At the Four Seasons. I bought a table at a fund-raising gala and I’m in a charity golf tournament tomorrow. So you get the weekend. Rest up.” He stared solidly for a few moments, then gestured for me to precede him to the archways.
I mentally stammered over the rest up portion of his little speech.
We parted ways in the drive and I endured my father stealing glances at me until we reached I-17 and he blurted, “Something going on that I should know about?”
My pulse still raced from Dane and his words. Now I had apprehension to contend with because I didn’t lie to my dad. Sure, I bent the truth on occasion when it was for his own good. Just like every other person on the planet. But this … Wow. What to say?
“I suppose we have a little flirtation going on.” I grimaced. That was much more than a bit of bending. I’d had a searing orgasm last night just from his large body wedged between my parted legs and his mouth on my neck.
“He’s your boss, Ari,” my dad said in a stern, fatherly tone. “And older than you.”
“By only four years, Dad. Not a big deal at my age.”
“He’s just not—”
“In my tax bracket? I’m well aware of that. But it’s not the class difference that’s the pro—”
My mouth snapped shut.
My dad gave me the full-on parental disapproval now. “I don’t like where this is headed, Ari.”
“Dad, you had a good time today. You enjoyed his company. Ethan’s, too. Dane respects your talent and your opinion; that has nothing to do with me. He likely would have sought you out about his courses whether we’d met or not. You’re a resident expert in Sedona. And for the record, we sort of got to know each other before he even learned I’d applied at 10,000 Lux and way before he offered me the job.”
Okay, TMI?
My dad grunted despondently. “I don’t want to know about this, do I?”
“Don’t get so worked up. I have conflicting feelings. And he’s perfectly aware of my … issues.”
