Make Believe Engagement

by Day Leclaire

  “You can talk to her later. If you start interrogating people your first day here, they’re going to get suspicious.”

  “I know how to ask questions without sounding like I’m conducting an interrogation,” she retorted, stung.

  He lifted an eyebrow. “Like you did with Joanie? You stood there, notebook and pen in hand, badgering her with questions. What the hell was that if not an interrogation?”

  “I’m sure she thought I was an innocent, if nosy, tourist.”

  “Don’t be an idiot. Tourists wear cameras and plaid, and have guidebooks, not lists of questions. I suggest you cool it for a day or two.”

  “Well, you aren’t in charge,” she informed him tightly. “I am. And right now, I intend to start work. Is that clear, Mr. Richmond?”

  “That tears it.” He reined to a halt. “You want to start work? That’s fine with me. Why don’t we start with discussing what you’re really after. Just why the hell are you here, anyway?”

  “I told you—I’m researching the island.”

  “Why?” he repeated. “What does Daniels want with Bride’s Bay Resort?”

  “That’s none of your—”

  “Business? Bull!” Anger flashed in his jewel-bright eyes. “If you want my help, you’d better make it my business. Now tell me. What are you doing on Jermain Island?”

  She considered how to answer, weighing her options. On one hand, she didn’t want to tell him any more than necessary. On the other, if he understood what she was trying to accomplish, he’d be in a better position to obtain the information she needed. Perhaps a small variation on the truth was in order. “I’m doing a feasibility study on a number of resorts, among them Bride’s Bay.”

  “Why? And don’t hand me that line about future investment opportunities. I don’t buy that.”

  “But it’s true. Daniels is always looking for—”

  “Last chance, Princess,” he told her. “You either tell me the truth or I have a cozy chat with the Jermains.”

  She knew that tone of voice. He wasn’t kidding. Which meant… “Daniels is considering building a luxury hotel,” she answered, choosing her words with care. “We want to observe firsthand how the best resorts operate in order to determine whether or not the venture would be profitable.”

  He shot her a sharp look. “I warned you I’d only help if what you planned wouldn’t harm the economic future of Jermain Island.”

  She met his gaze without flinching. “And this won’t. We’d be fools to go head-to-head with Bride’s Bay. They’re too well established. But something similar in another location, with a somewhat different setting and amenities…” She shrugged. “That has possibilities.”

  “Maybe.” He studied her for a moment, his eyes narrowed and assessing. “Time will tell, won’t it?”

  But whether he referred to Daniels Investment’s plans or his concern about the island’s economy, she wasn’t quite certain. “Now that I’ve answered your questions, shall we get to work?” she suggested, determined to get them back on track. “My first priority—”

  He nailed her with a disparaging gaze. “If you’re intent on researching the island, then your first priority should be a thorough exploration. That way you can get an idea of the physical layout and amenities.” A hint of sarcasm edged his voice. “That way you’ll also know what questions to bother Joanie with and which can be answered by keeping your eyes open and your mouth shut.”

  “That might have been an option if your report hadn’t drowned,” she argued, batting at a deer fly. “But until you get around to reconstructing it, I have to obtain the information any way I can.” She glared at him. “You have been working on it, haven’t you?”

  “No. I told you-”

  “Oh, that’s right. We’re supposed to ‘wing it.’”

  “That’s right. Now do you want to learn about the island or not?”

  “Of course.”

  “Then stop arguing and come on. What I’m about to show you was all in my report.” He urged his horse forward, pointing through a stand of loblolly pine trees toward a fairway. “For instance, did you know that the resort offers thirty-six holes of championship golf?”

  “Yes, I did know. I have done some research of my own.” She tilted her head to one side, dredging the facts from memory. “They’re world-renowned courses. The Seaside Course was rated one of the world’s most challenging and also has the most seaside holes of any North American course. The Clubhouse Course is a hard par seventy-two, but an easy bogey—whatever that means.”

  “It means it’s difficult to make par for the course—par being the standard score for each hole. Hitting a bogey, one over par, is most common. It also means that golf enthusiasts generate a tremendous amount of revenue for the resort.” He glanced at her. “I gather you don’t play.”

  She shook her head. “I’ve never had the opportunity to learn.”

  “You do now. I’ll reserve a tee-off time.”

  Her eyes widened in alarm. “I’ll pass, thanks all the same. I don’t know the first thing about the game.”

  “This is your big chance. We have a fantastic club pro. Gary set the course record.”

  It was tempting, but… “I’m not here to have fun,” she demurred. “I’m here to work.”

  “And part of your job should be to test the amenities. I’ll bet Gary can tell you what percentage of visitors come to play golf. What better way to ferret out the information you need than over a lesson?”

  She wanted to give in. But the thought of picking up a club for the first time in front of all those expert golfers spoiled the fantasy. “I’ll think about it,” she said with a note of finality. “What else is there to see?”

  “The gun club and rifle range.”

  She shook her head. “Another day perhaps.”

  “Then let’s explore the wildlife preserve.” He guided his chestnut gelding onto a wide path. “Tell me something, Taylor. Are you planning to incorporate many of the features you find here into your luxury hotel?”

  She looked at him, startled. “I don’t know. Possibly. I guess that depends on how much revenue they generate.”

  “So if one of the big selling points of Bride’s Bay is their plantation house, Boss will build one of his own?” JT asked dubiously. “Or a golf course? Or a wildlife preserve? He’s going to adopt all the most successful features?”

  Her brows drew together. “I…I don’t know,” she admitted.

  “Where is he going to put his hotel?” JT persisted. “What part of the country?”

  “I… I’m not certain.”

  “But it’s going to be on an island? It’ll be a beach resort?”

  “Possibly. My assignment doesn’t cover that aspect of the project.” She frowned at him. “Why the questions all of a sudden? I thought we’d settled this.”

  He shrugged. “I’m curious. Bride’s Bay Resort is a unique setup. It has a history, a reputation, a distinctiveness that can’t be copied.”

  “It’s unusual, yes, but hardly unique.”

  “I disagree.”

  “That’s because you grew up here,” she said with an understanding smile. “It’s natural you’d think Jermain Island is special.”

  “Don’t patronize me!” he snapped. “You’re the one obsessed with business, the one who’s always analyzing everything. So analyze this—if Bride’s Bay Resort isn’t special, then why bother researching it? And if it is special enough to copy some of the major selling points, who would stay at Boss’s resort when they could vacation at the real thing?”

  She rode in stunned silence. He was right. It didn’t make sense. She focused on a huge hedge of pink azaleas lining the path ahead and thought about it. When the answer finally came to her, it was so obvious she grinned.

  “Boss wouldn’t copy it,” she explained. “Not exactly. He’ll probably adopt those features most advantageous to his resort based on my analysis. If the golf course is a large part of the resort’s success, then
my guess is he’ll hire a world-renowned architect to design one for him. If the gun club and rifle range has no intrinsic value, he’ll omit it.”

  “So Boss will build this resort from scratch?”

  “From scratch, or he might be rebuilding a resort that’s on the skids.”

  “Are we talking about the same Boss? The man who razes every business he’s ever gotten his hands on? He’s going to build something. And you believe that?”

  For some reason the question made her uncomfortable. Perhaps because the same thought had occurred to her when Boss had first handed her the assignment. “I admit he doesn’t have much of a reputation as a developer.”

  “He doesn’t have any reputation as a developer.”

  “But if it means a sizable profit—”

  JT caught the reins of her horse, pulling the animal to a halt. His jaw was set in an uncompromising line, and she shifted uneasily beneath the cold blue gaze he fixed on her. “You’re lying, Princess.”

  She stared in disbelief. “I’m what?”

  “You heard me. You’re either lying to me or to yourself, I don’t know which. But I intend to find out.”

  “I have been absolutely straight with you from the start,” she argued.

  “You’ve been feeding me a line this whole time, which means our deal is hanging by a very slender thread.”

  “You can’t be serious!”

  “I’m very serious. If I discover you’ve been stringing me along, I won’t hesitate to blow your cover. You got that?”

  “I don’t believe this.” She leaned across the saddle horn to emphasize her point. “I’m not lying to you. I’m here to analyze Bride’s Bay and that’s what I’m going to do. I’ll do it with your help or without it. But it will get done. Now I’m going back to work.”

  “You are working, remember?”

  “This isn’t work,” she retorted, her anger flaring. “I’m riding a damned horse when I should be interviewing the staff. Well, the ride is over. I’m returning to the hotel and I’m going to speak to Joanie again. If all the staff is as helpful as she has been, I won’t need two weeks to complete my assignment. With luck I’ll be out of here in a matter of days.”

  He stiffened, his face a stony mask. “What makes you think you can get a feel for the place in just a few days?”

  “It’s an island, JT. There’s not that much to see.”

  “There’s the beach.”

  “It’s just like any beach,” she said dismissively. “It has sand and water and seashells. Lots of sand, even more water and a whole bucketful of seashells. Big deal.”

  His mouth tightened. “There’s the lighthouse.”

  “According to Joanie, it’s a lighthouse that doesn’t work,” she retorted with flippant disregard. “You climb up some steps, look at still more sand and water. I suppose the seashells are too small to see from the top. Then you climb down some steps. Oh, joy. Another hour killed.”

  His horse danced closer, and she grew a little nervous when she saw the hot blue sparks that glittered in his eyes, belying his surface calm. “What about the golf course?”

  “What about it?”

  “Oh, that’s right. Daddy will just pick up the phone and order himself a championship course or two. And the plantation house itself? Let me guess. If Boss decides to turn his hotel into a plantation, he’ll hire an architect and interior designer. After all, they can fake anything these days. Who cares about history or roots or authenticity?” He gestured to encompass the surrounding forest. “And the wildlife preserve? What’s he going to do about duplicating that? Call a local nursery and order a wetlands to go?”

  “If that’s what he decides,” she said rashly. “It can’t be that difficult.”

  “Get off the horse.” He spoke through clenched teeth, his words dangerously soft.

  She straightened, staring at him in surprise. The man she’d hired had disappeared beneath a tight-lipped, autocratic stranger. “I beg your pardon?”

  “You’re going to do more than beg my pardon. Get off the damned horse. Now.” He didn’t wait to see if she’d obey. In one fluid movement, he leapt from his mount and swept her out of the saddle.

  “Let me go! What do you think you’re doing?” She shoved at his chest, glaring up at him. And in that instant she realized that she’d pushed him too far, that beneath the cool expressionless facade was a blazingly angry man. She’d never seen him look like this—threatening, ruthless, menacing. What in heaven’s name had she done? “JT-”

  “My turn, Princess,” he cut her off harshly, his hand an unbreakable manacle around her wrist. “You shut up and I talk.”

  She stood in front of him, her breath coming in frantic pants, shock mingling with apprehension. They were completely isolated here, and she’d lost all control of the situation—assuming she’d ever had it. She licked her lips. “So talk,” she said, the nervous tremor in her voice stealing some of the bravado from her words.

  He threw her a look of acute dislike. “I don’t know why I even bother. You’re too blind to see, too corrupted by Boss. It’s like trying to explain feelings to a computer.”

  She fought his hold, anger making her reckless. “I’m not a computer.”

  “No?” He tugged her closer, slamming her into the wall of his chest, a hand at the base of her spine securing his hold. “Prove it.”

  “No-”

  She didn’t have a chance to say more. His mouth closed over hers with ruthless intent. This time he didn’t bother with a gentle seduction. His mouth staked a claim, melding with hers and demanding a response she was helpless to prevent. She didn’t want to surrender again, didn’t want to be kissed in anger. But if anger had motivated the initial embrace, it swiftly dissipated as something more explosive took over.

  She didn’t understand how he could arouse her with such ease. With every other man she’d known, she’d always kept a small part of herself in reserve. But not with JT. He didn’t allow it. He slipped beneath her guard and changed her in ways as permanent as they were indefinable.

  Everyone she’d ever known, everything she’d ever felt seemed inconsequential in comparison to this man and this moment. He stirred sensations she’d only dreamed about, gave life and depth and color to emotions she’d long ago concluded were foreign to her nature. In his arms she became a woman first and a business executive second. To her dismay, she discovered she wanted that feeling to last forever. She wanted to experience true passion, to taste the unique flavor of a man, to feel his primal heat and be inflamed by it. Most of all, she wanted to have a man desire her as a woman, not as the daughter of Boss Daniels.

  As though sensing her acquiescence, his hands shifted upward beneath her shirt, cupping the fullness of her breasts. She groaned softly, her groan turning to a gasp when his thumbs swept the pearled tips. She molded herself against him, melting into his heat, wanting nothing more than for the kiss to go on and on and on.

  JT surfaced first, his eyes a blaze of blue, the skin of his face stretched taut over his cheekbones. He took a deep breath and set her from him. “I take it back. You’re not a computer. You have a woman’s body, with a woman’s desires to match.” His voice held a cynical edge. “But I’m willing to bet there’s no heart. No soul.”

  She couldn’t have been more shocked if he’d slapped her. “You son of a—” She bit off the word, unable to say it.

  His eyes glittered with sardonic amusement. “You’re right. When it comes to this island, I am an SOB.” He thrust a hand through his hair, the mouth that had just kissed her with such passionate intensity now a tight grim line. “How the hell can I expect you to grasp what’s so special about this place when you haven’t the emotional depth to understand?”

  Her eyes flashed with fury, her breath escaping in a long angry hiss. Any desire she’d felt disappeared as though it had never been. “You know nothing about me. Nothing! Don’t you dare stand in judgment of me. If you can’t explain what’s special about this island, th
en it’s the island that’s lacking, not me!”

  His eyes narrowed in assessment. “We’ll see. Close your eyes.” He stepped back a pace. “Don’t argue. Just do it!”

  She obeyed without question, only too happy to block him from view. She could still sense his presence, knew he now stood behind her even though she hadn’t heard him move. “What now?” she asked resentfully, folding her arms across her chest. “I’d like to get out of here as soon as possible.”

  “Now listen,” he murmured in her ear. “Calm down and listen.”

  Her skin prickled, her hearing tuned to the least little sound. She fought to control her breathing, to keep it even and soft. And gradually she relaxed. At first all she heard was silence. Living in a busy city, she’d learned to ignore surface noise. Now the intense absence of sound unsettled her. But after a moment she realized that the woods were far noisier than she’d expected.

  The wind whispered through the trees overhead, and she heard the distinctive rustle, the scrape and groan as the top-heavy pines swayed and dipped. The chattering of birds came to her next, a cacophony of whistles and cheeps, trills and the occasional burst of song. Joe-Pye snorted, stomping a foot and swishing his tail. As though in response, the bush closest to her rustled, and an instant later tiny claws skittered across wood. She couldn’t resist. She opened her eyes in time to see a squirrel scamper up the trunk of a tree.

  “That’s right. Look around,” JT ordered, gripping her shoulders. “You’re standing in the middle of a maritime forest. There aren’t many of them left. The wetlands here are protected from development by law. Take a good look around. See the ferns? They’re sheltering a thrush. There’s a lizard on that log to your left. This time of year you can see great horned owls and ospreys, hawks and mockingbirds. Just look around you. They’re all there.”

  She took in her surroundings with new eyes. “The flowers by the cyprus marsh—are they irises?”

  “Blue flag. On the other side of the marsh are swamp roses. When we get closer to the beach you’ll see pink phlox and primrose. And smell. Delicious, isn’t it? That’s a combination of honeysuckle and elderberry.” His hands tightened. “How is Boss going to copy this?”