How could she not see something that he saw so clearly? He’d worked hard. Why shouldn’t he enjoy the perks that came as a result?
“Maybe, but it’s not like you can take all the money, condos, boats, cars, clothes…all that stuff with you when you die. People like you act like life is a race. Or a contest. You run as hard as you can and amass as much stuff as you can and the one with the most at the end wins.”
“Sounds right to me.” He didn’t understand her point. Of course whoever amassed the most wealth, won. That was simple math.
The limo slowed as it pulled into the portico of the resort, and stopped at the front door. The valet opened the door for them to exit the vehicle.
Allison scooted to the edge of the seat, but instead of leaving the car she put a hand on Hunter’s arm and said, “ask yourself this: when you’re on your death bed will you wish you had one more car, or another million dollars, or a jet ski? Or will you wish you had someone at your side to hold your hand and say goodbye and miss you when you’re gone?”
Inside, Hunter marched up to the registration desk. Allison’s words still rang in his mind, and made him pause. At thirty-one, he’d never thought about dying. He only thought about forging ahead, doing the things he’d always wanted to do, achieving the success he strove for. He was too young to think about dying. He had his whole life ahead of him.
But when Allison pointed out that if he continued on the same path he’d die alone surrounded by the trophies of his success, it didn’t sound like as much of an achievement as it should.
“May I help you, sir?”
A clerk, dressed in a nice suit waited for him to answer.
“We need to check in.”
“Your reservation is under what name, Mr…?
He hadn’t made the reservation. As his assistant, he’d asked Allison to do it. She stepped up to the counter next to him.
“McDowell,” she said. “Mr. and Mrs. McDowell.”
He looked down at her. “What the…?”
She beamed up at him, like she’d won some pissing contest between them, then returned her attention to the clerk. “We’ve only been married a couple of weeks. He’s still not used to hearing the Mr. and Mrs. thing,” she said in a voice that sounded like she was sharing a secret.
The clerk grinned. “We get that a lot. Congratulations. I’m sure you’ll enjoy your stay here. There’s plenty to do, or you can just relax and do nothing. There are brochures in your room for all the activities and facilities, but if you ever have any questions, or need anything, please feel free to call the concierge. That’s what we’re here for.”
The clerk handed them a couple of key cards.
“Thank you, Josh. I’m sure we’ll have a wonderful time,” Allison said.
How did she know the guy’s name? But when Hunter glanced at the clerk again, he noticed the nametag. Why hadn’t he noticed it before?
The bellhop had loaded their luggage onto the cart, and followed them to the elevator.
Hunter tolerated the awkward three-way silence on the ride up the elevator, and down the hall to their door. After Allison let them into their room, Hunter tipped the bellhop a fifty.
“What’s with the Mr. and Mrs. McDowell business?” he asked as soon as he’d shut the door behind the bellhop. Why would she give him her last name? But when he turned, Allison was gone.
While Hunter dealt with the bellhop, Allison explored the suite. She’d booked it based on the recommendation of the reservation desk, and they’d been right about how beautiful it was. A bright, airy living space, a well-appointed kitchenette, a balcony with a glorious ocean view, an enormous bathroom with the biggest luxury shower she’d ever seen, and a bedroom filled with a California king to die for.
She flopped backward into the middle of the bed and lay spread eagle on the cool, white duvet.
A long, relaxed sigh escaped her lips. She could get used to this kind of thing.
“You look good there.”
Startled by his deep voice, she lifted her head to see Hunter leaning against the doorframe looking ridiculously sexy. He’d lost the blazer somewhere in the other room. She watched, transfixed, as he rolled the sleeves of his shirt to mid-forearm. She fully subscribed to the idea of forearm porn, and Hunter certainly embodied it.
She wondered, peripherally, if he ever wore anything other than a suit. She had no complaints about how he filled out a tailored suit because it made going to the office that much more pleasant, but the man had to own something else somewhere in his wardrobe.
The look in his eyes hovered between feral and confused. She dropped her gaze enough to confirm the bulge in his pants. So, feral it was. A sizzle of desire spiraled up her spine. She shouldn’t like it so much for him to look at her like he wanted to eat her alive. It was going to be nearly impossible to maintain a business relationship while at a tropical resort where they had to pretend to be a married couple. It would be especially difficult because he was so gorgeous, grouchy, and sexually deprived.
So far neither of them had caved in and admitted the attraction between them. She couldn’t speak for him, but she’d spent the last week with a constant throbbing dampness between her legs that wouldn’t be relieved even by administration of self-help. Fast on the heels of that thought, a picture of him jacking off in the shower to relieve his own need popped into her head and she had to bite back a groan.
Yeah, this weekend would feel pretty damn long if they didn’t do something about the sexual tension burning between them.
“So, where are you going to sleep?” she asked.
“On the bed.”
She hoisted herself up onto her elbows. “I’m sleeping in the bed.”
The corner of his mouth came up into a wolfish smirk. “Good.”
Her lady parts quivered at his response. Holy crap. Sharing a bed hadn’t been part of the plan, although to be fair they hadn’t addressed sleeping arrangements. Technically, if they were supposed to be married, they should share a bed. Married people shared beds.
She did a mental eye roll at the justification to get in bed with Hunter. Which, at the moment, didn’t seem like such a bad idea.
She watched him for a moment, taking his measure. He didn’t flinch, just watched right back. But the energy between them was nearly palpable.
She finally figured, what the heck. If they didn’t address it, the weekend would be
miserable. “So, correct me if I’m wrong, but we should probably talk about this thing between us.”
“Thing?” He lifted a brow, acting as if he didn’t understand. “There’s no thing.”
“Hmm. Mr. Bulgie would seem to disagree,” she said, glancing meaningfully at his erection then back up to catch his gaze again.
His face fell into distaste. “Do not refer to it as Mr. Bulgie.”
She bit her lip to keep from giggling. “Does it have another name?”
“No.” One word. Clipped. Authoritative.
“What am I supposed to call it, then?”
“Don’t call it anything. We can stop talking about it right now.”
“Well, that’s going to be difficult since it seems to have a will of its own. I can’t pretend anymore that I don’t see it. Or feel it.” It twitched when she said that and she had to cough to cover a groan. “So you refuse to acknowledge you’re attracted to me?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked like he was calculating just the right words to use. As an attorney, she could appreciate that. Words had a lot more power than people gave them credit for, so choosing words carefully was always important.
“You’re an attractive woman, but I wouldn’t say I’m attracted to you.”
“I’m going to have to call bullshit. There’s a whole lot of—um—substantial evidence to the contrary.” She sat up and slipped her shoes off, wiggling her toes as she did. It didn’t escape her attention that he glanced down at her feet and swallowed hard, then looked back up at her. He mostly managed to
get the nonchalant mask back in place, but there was definitely something underneath. Something he didn’t seem to want to admit to. Something hungry. “If it makes you feel any better about admitting it, I’m attracted to you, too. It’s been driving me crazy all week, but while we were on the plane, and then after talking in the limo, it occurred to me that there’s no way we can get through this weekend without dealing with it. I mean we’re adults. We can admit an attraction. It doesn’t mean we have to act on it.”
He nodded, as if acknowledging the logic without committing to an all out verbal response.
“But even if we did act on it, you’ve made it clear you don’t need people in your life, and I’m certainly not shopping for anything permanent, so there’s nothing to worry about.”
He stepped into the room, his presence suddenly feeling much larger than it had before. The intensity in his eyes, and the predatory smirk added to her impression of him as something feral. “But I’m your boss. That doesn’t bother you?”
“Why would it bother me?”
“The unequal balance of power.”
“Obviously we see things differently. The only way your being my boss would bother me is if I felt like either I or my job was threatened by an…um…encounter between us. I don’t. I’m not afraid of you, and I can find another job if things go south between us, professionally.”
She still hadn’t told him that her ultimate goal was to find another job, anyway. Her long term career goal didn’t include being a PA forever. At this point, he didn’t need to know that, though, and it certainly wasn’t the right moment to point it out.
He grinned, the kind of grin that showed all his teeth and crinkled his eyes and suggested all kinds of wicked fun. It took her breath away and made her forget what she’d been thinking.
“You’ve put a lot of thought into this,” he said.
“I wouldn’t say a lot, exactly. Haven’t you thought about it?”
“Maybe a little.”
A major understatement, she was sure.
“Like I said, we’re both adults. But if you’re not interested, that’s fine. I’ll just feel like an idiot for bringing it up, hope you can put it behind us, then pretend it never happened.”
He took another step, leaving him standing just inches in front of her, and towering over the place where she sat on the end of the bed. She had to crane her neck to see his face.
“What are you proposing?”
Bingo.
“I wasn’t really proposing anything. I was just saying we should at least acknowledge the attraction between us. Admitting you have a problem is the first step to dealing with it. Or so I’m told.”
“You think being attracted to each other is a problem?”
“It is in an environment where we have to pretend to be a newlywed couple. Newlyweds are in love. They engage in sloppy PDA, they moon over each other, they’re romantic.”
“They have a lot of sex.”
His suggestion had her body humming with need.
“That too.”
He stepped forward and used his knees to shove her legs apart, then stepped into the space. Her breath caught in her throat. Given the height of the bed all she had to do was scoot her butt a few inches forward for his cock to make contact exactly where she wanted it.
Dear God, she wanted to feel it.
She bit her lip, hoping the sting would rein in her charging libido. His eyes shifted to her mouth, and she watched his pupils dilate.
He leaned down forcing her backwards onto the bed, and placed his hands on either side of her head, dipping his face to within inches of hers.
“Since you have no proposal, I’ll offer one of my own.” His warm breath puffed on her face with each word. It took some effort not to lick her lips. “For this weekend only, while we’re at the resort, and because it may make it easier to appear as if we’re a couple, we indulge in the attraction between us.”
She smiled her sweetest smile, even though her heart hammered at what had to be an unhealthy rate. “So you acknowledge you’re attracted to me, after all?”
“Fuck, yes.” The words came out more as a growl than coherent vocabulary.
She’d already known it, but it was a relief to hear him to say it. She’d stepped out on a limb admitting it herself. At least now they were out on the same limb.
She waved her hand in a vague motion encompassing the two of them, the room, Costa Rica. “So this is sort of a what happens in Costa Rica stays in Costa Rica thing?”
“Yes. We explore whatever this is, enjoy it, get it out of our systems, then when we go back to Houston, we go back to work and put this behind us.”
He was crazy if he thought that would work. Sex had a way of making things awkward and personal. She’d never heard of anyone successfully doing the casual get-it-out-of-our-system thing. But since the personal assistant gig was only a way for her to get a foot into the corporate world, on her way to a legal position, she could always find another temporary job to fill the gap if this weekend experiment went badly.
At least that was how she justified wanting to agree to Hunter’s proposition. Admitting attraction was one thing. Flirting and teasing another. But entertaining the idea of a full-on sexcapade in Costa Rica with her boss was another thing entirely.
She reached up and put her hands on his chest—warm and hard. He clearly worked out. Her body stood up and cheered. Instead of caressing, though, she forced herself to push him up out of her space.
“It’s a tempting proposal. Very, very tempting. But I’m sure you’ll agree it’s never a good idea to jump on an offer without walking away to give it some thought. It’s just good business.”
He stood and crossed his arms, a flabbergasted look of disbelief on his face. “You’re rejecting me?”
“I’m so not rejecting you. I’m saying let’s put a pin in it. Not be hasty. Let’s sleep on it and revisit it after we’ve had a chance to consider the pros and cons.”
He turned and headed for the bathroom, stripping his belt off and tossing it on the chair as he went. He stopped at the door and faced her, unbuttoning his shirt as he spoke. “I’ll tell you now, the pros include lots of hot, no-strings-attached sex. The cons are we’ll have to interrupt the hot no-strings-attached sex to explore the resort.”
“You can add that,” she pointed to his torso with nicely defined musculature and a sprinkling of dark blond hair that narrowed into a perfect treasure trail. “to the list of pros.”
He shot her an I-told-you-so smirk. “Go ahead and sleep on that, sweetheart.”
Hunter stripped and turned on the shower to a temperature just above tolerably hot. Fuck the cold shower. He needed release, even if he had to do it himself.
Allison didn’t know it yet, but sometime this weekend—preferably sooner rather than later given the ache in his balls—she would be his. He’d fuck her until she begged him to stop, which would be never if he had anything to say about it.
It pissed him off that she’d suggest an affair and then back out. He felt tricked into admitting his attraction when he wouldn’t have normally.
True, she’d admitted to it first, and she seemed genuinely interested in his proposal. But backing off to consider the pros and cons? Using lame business practice technique against him? It made him want to march out there right now, dripping wet and hard, and prove to her the benefits of acting on first impulses rather than backing off in favor of measured consideration.
He closed his eyes and let the hot water wash over his face and body. The heat and the pounding spray relaxed some of the tension.
Maybe thinking about it before jumping into something rash was the better approach after all. Where women were concerned, he’d never put much thought into it. When he saw a woman he wanted, he pursued her. He didn’t stop to think about consequences, because he knew the outcome going into it. It was always about sex and pleasure. When they got bored with each other, they went their separate ways. Simple.
He n
ever had relationships with women he worked with, because that could lead to messy aftermath. The last thing he needed was a jealous, needy, clingy ex in the office. Keeping his personal life separate from work made his life neat and tidy.
But Allison was different. She didn’t give a shit about his money or her job. She flat out said if things between them went sour, she’d just find another job. She was practical and smart, but she was also sassy as hell. Generally, his type was a compliant, pretty brunette. Allison threw all that out the window and she fascinated the shit out of him. He never thought he’d be interested in a feisty blond with mile-long legs and an attitude to match.
His cock twitched at the thought of her. He wanted those legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her. He wanted them hooked over his shoulders while he tasted her.
“Goddammit,” he growled.
He reached for the soap and lathered up, then took a firm grip on his cock and started stroking.
“Next time I come, it’ll be inside Allison.”
Hunter finished his shower, wrapped a towel around his waist, and headed out into the suite to find his suitcase.
Allison had opened the French doors in the bedroom, and a warm afternoon breeze ruffled the white sheers on the window and felt good on his skin. He stood by the window for a moment watching the waves roll in. The constant white noise of roaring surf had a hypnotizing effect.
Hunter rolled his shoulders and neck, loosening some of the stiffness.
“Allison,” he called.
“You bellowed?”
He turned from the window to find her standing in the door, wearing some short dress thing that exposed a lot of skin. The hem fell to maybe mid-thigh, which meant all that toned, tanned leg showed beneath it. Not to mention her long slender arms and slim shoulders. And neck.
Jesus fucking Christ, she was gorgeous.
“What are you wearing?”
“You called me in here to ask me what I’m wearing?”
He shook his head. “No, I called you in here to look at the view. But what are you wearing?”
Her tone dripped with sarcasm. “It’s called a dress, Hunter. Women wear them sometimes.”
HUNTER (The Caine Brothers Book 1) Page 3
