William’s genuine laugh filled the space around them. “Believe me, I’m not a pro, either, but I do like the exercise. Devi, do you play?”
“The closest I’ve come is badminton, but I’ll try anything once.”
“And she means that, William.” Omar wrapped his arm around her shoulders and hugged her to his side. The familiarity took her by surprise, but only for a second. She better get used to their contact. At least this week. She relaxed against him and breathed in his light cologne. Another piece of heaven.
“I like that. Come on. I don’t want to hold you up from settling in so you can join the others. Let me show you to your room.”
“Sounds good,” Omar said.
They followed William upstairs. Devi had a good feeling about this man. She’d overreacted earlier. He liked her and Omar, and she instantly liked him and was confident Omar felt the same. If Esterly won this contract, William Bartow would be an amazing client to have on board.
They ventured down a long, spacious hallway with a variety of artwork from modern to Renaissance to traditional. She made a mental note to put aside some time and check them all out at greater length. At the end of the hall they stopped before an impressive set of dark-stained double doors. A field of flowers was carved into the wood.
“I’m sorry I had to put you at the end of the hall. I wanted everyone to enjoy a suite, but they were all taken. With most of the others having families, I thought it best to give them more space. Not that your room isn’t spacious, by any means, but it doesn’t include a separate living space with additional bedrooms.”
“Understandable.” Omar stood aside after William opened the doors so Devi could enter first.
“I’m sure you’ll be comfortable here. And to be honest, the views from this wing are spectacular.”
“Oh my goodness. That’s putting it mildly.” Devi’s hand flew to her throat, and she fingered the rose locket that had been her mother’s. She couldn’t take her eyes off the bank of windows and the view beyond.
Swaying trees with sweeping glimpses of the ocean filled the wall of windows before her. She barely noticed the California King, the vase of roses on the bedside table, or the soothing shades of blue on the walls, rugs, and furniture.
She made her way across the room and pulled open the French doors, breathing in the clean air that gently swam into the room. “I think you gave us the best room in the house.”
The men joined her at the window as the man who’d been instructed to grab their luggage stepped into the room and discreetly placed their bags beside the narrow table inside the door.
“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then. I’m glad you’re happy with the room.” William shook Omar’s hand again and squeezed Devi’s hand briefly. “When you’re ready, just follow the staircase to the foyer, turn right, and you can’t miss the French doors that’ll take you onto the veranda and the pool.”
“See you soon.” Omar followed him to the door.
“Thank you, again.” Devi released a breath as the door closed.
She twirled around and landed on the bed. “I didn’t expect a room like this. Of course I had no clue what I expected. But this is luxury at its finest.” She sprang off the bed and held the shimmery fabric of the drapes aside. “This view rivals a postcard.”
Devi could barely tear her gaze from the water, but she wanted to get unpacked and outside. She grabbed her duffel bag, wishing she’d chosen a nicer piece of luggage. What had she been thinking? A duffel bag for a week at a billionaire’s mansion? She unzipped the bag and grabbed a handful of clothes. Cass would’ve surely let her use the amazing luggage set that Trev had bought her when they’d taken their trip to Costa Rica last year.
With quick steps she moved toward one of the dressers, opened the top drawer, and shoved several items inside. She then hung up a few items in the closet before dumping the remainder of what was in the bag on the closet floor. A hodgepodge of fuzzy slippers, two pairs of sandals, and a pink pair of tennis shoes hit the floor with a thud. She hoisted the now light duffel bag over her shoulder and wiped her hands together. “I’m all unpacked, in less than thirty seconds.”
When Omar didn’t respond, she turned around.
He stood in the center of the room with a frown. “I didn’t even think about the sleeping arrangements.”
Devi followed his gaze until her eyes fell on the large bed that had suddenly become the white elephant in the room.
Chapter Seven
Omar’s blood pounded in his ears. The idea of rooming together had been difficult enough, but how the hell could he not think of Devi in a sexual way if they had to share the same bed? With her lying next to him, he’d be up all night. In more ways than one.
He’d planned out everything for this week—at least he thought he had—except sleeping arrangements. He rubbed his neck and frowned.
Devi jerked one shoulder, kicked off her shoes, and then tossed her duffel bag on the sofa. She hadn’t unpacked completely because one sandal fell out of the top and onto the floor. “It’s no big deal. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
He blew out his breath. He hadn’t even noticed the two sofas situated around the room. No wonder men were always accused of thinking with their southern hemisphere. How come he hadn’t thought of that instead of automatically seeing no other option but them sharing a bed? “Not a chance. I’ll take the sofa.”
She shook her head, not fazed in the least by the idea of the room only having one bed, or in offering to take the sofa.
“You’re going to need solid rest to seal this deal. I can sleep on either one of these sofas, or that awesome-looking lounger on the balcony.” She wrapped her arms around her middle and swayed back and forth with a contented smile curving her lips. “I can already feel the ocean breeze cooling my skin while I snuggle under a blanket and sleep. Sounds like heaven.”
What sounded like heaven was the dreamy quality in her voice. Along with the image of her snuggled in a blanket on the lounger, but with one addition. She’d be wrapped in his arms. He shook his head mentally to clear his thoughts. Maybe if he quit looking at her he could put a sentence together.
He crossed the room and grabbed his suitcase with such force it banged him in the knee, but he ignored the sting of pain and tossed it on the bed to unpack. “It might sound nice for the first hour or so, but you can’t sleep out there all night. And definitely not all week. Let me take the sofa.”
She rounded the bed so that she stood directly across from him. He couldn’t avert his gaze forever, especially when she crouched down to meet his eyes and blinked several times playfully.
A smile tugged at his mouth. She could always make him laugh.
“Um, not a good idea. You’ve got about seven inches on me, something that sofa or lounger doesn’t. It only makes sense for me to make the sacrifice.”
They straightened and studied each other from opposite sides of the mattress.
His laugh came out dry. “Not on your life. No way am I giving you that type of ammunition. Make a sacrifice my ass.”
She cocked her head and delivered him an innocent smile as she crossed her heart with one finger. “I’d never use it against you. I can’t have you developing some curvature of the spine disorder in the name of chivalry.”
“Since we’re only here for a week I don’t think we need to worry about my spine.” Now chivalry might be another matter. Most definitely if she kept biting her lip and looking at him with her big, soft eyes.
“I’m not arguing with you, O. I’ll take the sofa.” Her bracelets clinked against each other as she ran her fingers through her hair. “Now I’m going to change into a suit so we can head down to the pool. And lunch. I’m hungry.” She grabbed several items from the dresser and then padded across the rug in her bare feet toward the bathroom, her arms full of a colorful assortment of clothes.
He had no desire to head down to the pool solo, so he took his time changing into the new pair of brown plaid Bermuda shorts
and a plain brown tee he’d purchased the night before. He’d also bought a couple pairs of sandals, and he lined them up in the bottom of the oversized closet, next to several pairs of fuzzy, colored slippers. He shook his head, but warmth spread through him. Devi, such an odd woman, but interesting nonetheless. She packed for a week using a duffel bag, unpacked in mere minutes, and brought three pairs of slippers that she wouldn’t wear outside this room. He could know her forever and he might still never figure her out.
He hung up a couple of shirts. Even with her slippers and his sandals in the closet it looked bare and lonely. He made his way to the same bureau Devi had used, opened the drawer to the right of hers, and neatly laid the last of his clothes inside, making sure nothing overlapped. Unable to resist, he opened her drawer to peek inside. She definitely didn’t believe in order. Nothing had been folded, all rolled—which he’d heard made packing a breeze and clothes wrinkle-free—and she’d flung each item inside with no particular care.
He checked his watch. The feminine sounds of Devi humming from the bathroom floated across the room. He knocked on the door separating them. “Are you almost ready?”
“I’m going to be a minute. Head on down, I’ll meet you.”
“I’m not in a hurry. It’ll look better if we go down together.”
“What you’re really saying is that you don’t like social situations and you want me to be the buffer.”
He could hear the smile in her voice. Actually picture one fine eyebrow lift as she shook her head.
“It’s your story.”
“Damn right it is. And I’ll tell it like I see it.”
He grinned. Devi had the inside track when it came to knowing his habits and reasoning. He leaned against the wall outside the bathroom door, folding his arms over his chest, waiting her out. “How long does it take to put on a suit?”
“The long part is deciding which one.”
Great. They could be here all day. “You packed more than one? We’re only here for a week.”
Even through the door her soft giggle tugged at his awareness. He ran his hand through his hair and cursed under his breath. His own thoughts made him squirm as he eyed the bed. The focal point in the room. He’d be aware of her no matter where she slept this week.
“I know. But I’m a girl, and this is what we do. I had to pack a few because I didn’t know what my mood would be. One piece, two piece, string, vintage…”
String? Oh hell!
Maybe he should just head down by himself. But Devi’s comment earlier was right on the money. He didn’t like social situations. Give him a business meeting and he had the confidence of ten men, throw him in a social setting and he choked.
Shit. He knew all these people from years of meeting up at conferences. He’d even advised one or two of them with difficult clients. He wore a suit of confidence when it came to finances and could talk the subject inside, outside, backward, and forward. Small talk about life in general, that was an entirely different suit to wear. One that had never fit him comfortably.
He didn’t like being out of his element. But, then, who did? The only thing he had in common with the people downstairs was work. And he’d been forbidden to talk about it.
He massaged the side of his neck, easing the knots of tension before he pushed himself off the wall with his foot. Blue skies and pristine white clouds drew him to the windows across the room, and as he neared excited voices and playful splashes filled the air. He crossed his arms, rocked on his heels, and looked down upon the pool area. Several green and white striped lounges littered a green tiled area by the pool. Round tables with matching striped umbrellas nestled in small groupings at the farthest end of the patio. The meticulous landscaping scattered across the hill to the east featured a rainbow of colorful flowers, plants, and trees.
He sucked in a lungful of air. A light breeze danced across the treetops, then up into their room to billow the sheer curtains into a soft arch. He closed his eyes for a moment and let his body relax as the sounds of the distant ocean filtered his senses along with the chirps of birds and the whistling of the wind. He’d never felt more at peace.
A child’s laughter interrupted his thoughts, and he opened his eyes and skimmed over the people in and around the pool.
What did he have to contribute to Gwen Fox—the only woman vying for Bartow’s business—and her husband who raised a special needs child with sight issues, or Mike Jones and his wife who had not one but two sets of twins? And don’t forget Wayne O’Malley. With his wife and three kids they were a walking, talking advertisement for the perfect family. Their union rivaled the strength of a neodymium magnet.
And that was just the first three of his competition. Omar rubbed his chin and stood tall. Hell, no competition. Once Bartow heard his pitch their handshake would seal the deal. Of that he was confident.
As for Brian Price, Omar didn’t like the man. Not before and not after his father had asked him to resign. The man had the work ethics and morals of a worm. How he still had a career, Omar hadn’t a clue.
He checked his watch. “Lunch will be over if you…”
The bathroom door squeaked slightly as it opened, and he turned. His heart galloped, then went into a full-blown stampede.
Devi walked across the room. Although her hair fell down past her chest in two loosely gathered pigtails, they bounced with each step. So shiny, he wanted to reach out and touch the fullness, grab a handful, and smell. Hell, he wanted to slide her hair from the two flower clips and tangle his fingers through the silky-looking waves.
She chose that moment to spin in a circle. “What do you think? Too old school?”
“What?”
“The suit. I bought it on a fifties replica website online. I like the style, but I know most people don’t swim in suits like this. It’s a swimdress actually. Don’t you love the cute black and white polka dots? I adore polka dots. And how it gathers at the waist, and the sweetheart neckline, how cool…”
Her words were lost to him. All his focus centered on the rays of sunlight illuminating her face as her mouth moved, each word forming on glossy red lips but never quite reaching his ears. The way her eyelashes fluttered over her cheeks as she inspected her suit, tugging at the waistline and running her fingers along the edge of material that nestled against the swell of her breasts.
And then there were her legs. Where the hell did she get legs like that? Long, toned, and tanned the perfect shade of light brown. They looked smooth, and his fingers ached to reach out and touch them.
What the hell? He’d seen her legs thousands of times when she wore a dress—the mainstay of her wardrobe—even caught glimpses of her upper thigh from time to time, but to see the entire package…
Holy shit!
She spun around again. “O, I want your opinion.”
Damn. Her legs were incredible, but her ass. That suit did amazing things to her ass. He couldn’t stop staring, and when she turned back around to face him he craned his neck to try to follow the view.
He met her gaze and heat roared across his face. She took a few tentative steps toward him, her brows puckered over concerned eyes. Before he could blink, she touched his hand, and he earned a lungful of her vanilla scent. His mouth watered, but it had nothing to do with her perfume and all to do with the way she questioned him with the tilt of her head. Or maybe the way her fingers slid up his arm. Most definitely because she stood so close in that delectable suit he could reach out and touch her.
“Are you okay?” She squeezed his forearm.
He nodded, not trusting himself to speak.
“You look funny. Kind of green around the gills as my grandpa would say.” She bit her lip to hide her shaky smile. “If you need CPR you’re going to regret needing it with me. Want to sit down?”
For some reason his confidence had plummeted within the last three minutes. He’d never felt uncomfortable talking to women. And never with Devi.
She didn’t wait for an answer but steered h
im toward the bed. He pulled back. That was the last place he wanted to be with Devi in arm’s reach. Not because he didn’t want to—hell, yeah you want to—but because he didn’t know what the hell he was doing or thinking. Until he could figure that out he needed to try to keep his head on straight. And that meant staying out of temptation’s path. “No, I’m okay. I think the lack of food has finally gotten to me,” he lied.
“Well, that’s kind of a relief. For a minute there I thought my suit was that bad.”
He couldn’t stop from chuckling. Leave it to Devi to break the tension with humor. “The suit’s great. You have nothing to worry about.”
She brushed her fingers through her hair, and the jingle of her bracelets became a familiar, soothing sound. “I don’t even know why I care, but going to the extremes we already have has my nerves on edge. And the comment William made when we first arrived didn’t help matters.”
He scrubbed his hands down his face, and when he opened his eyes he concentrated on the massive watercolor painting that hung on the wall over her left shoulder. He needed to look at something other than her in that damn suit if he planned on forming complete sentences, as well as not ending up with an erection that would become the new white elephant in the room. Hell, what would she think if she could read his thoughts? She’d probably put in her resignation. Play it cool. “You look fine. And what comment?”
Her eyebrows drew together as if she questioned his sanity. “The one about him being surprised we wanted to come. Why would he think Esterly wouldn’t want a chance for his business?”
Omar nodded. His brain rebooted. They were definitely on the same train of thought, except his derailed for a minute. “I caught that, too, but I’m not going to read anything into it. And neither should you. Let’s just concentrate on impressing and getting that contract.”
“Nice table turn, O. Usually I’m the reassuring voice. Anyway, I’m looking forward to the personal aspect of this week. It’ll be nice to see all these people in street clothes and talking life instead of business.”
A Friendly Engagement Page 9
