Hotter Than The Caribbean (Building Love Book 2)

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Hotter Than The Caribbean (Building Love Book 2) Page 9

by Stacy Hoff


  “Tell me why you happened to be here tonight,” she asked, pushing her glasses against the bridge of her nose.

  Now it was his turn to hesitate. “I had something important to do in town.” True enough.

  “Oh. I see. I hope it worked out well for you.”

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe.” God, I hope so. He made a conscious effort to make his voice gentle and tried again. “I don’t want things to be uncomfortable between us. Spending some personal time together could help us get past the awkwardness.”

  Her large, blue eyes blinked at him through her oversized frames. Her mouth remained silent.

  “I can throw in dinner if that will clinch the deal,” he added. “What else do I need to do to sweeten the pot?”

  “Dinner would be nice,” she said slowly. “If you’re sure it’s a good idea.”

  Dios mío, closing a multi-million-dollar development deal doesn’t take this much persuasion. “To use one of my favorite business adages, ‘The man who is successful is always sure of himself.’”

  Mel lips curled into a smile. “Dinner sounds good, thank you. Afterwards you can take me back to the hotel, okay?”

  “Another trusted adage says, ‘Always take a good deal.’” He placed his right hand lightly on her back. “Let’s go. I know of a great place a block away.”

  Chapter 13

  Mel’s flesh danced with a zinging sensation. The feel of Luis’s hand against her back, even through the cotton top, was remarkably warm against her skin. The intimate gesture was undoubtedly no more than a matter of courtesy. Too bad the effect on her was a whole lot less superficial. Her skin tingled all the way up to her head and down to her toes. It was a wonder she didn’t float out of her shoes. She struggled with whether she should have him remove his hand or move it somewhere more intimate. Option C, acting like she didn’t notice, seemed the safest way to go.

  The short walk to the restaurant was a blur. The restaurant itself was a pink stucco edifice that appeared old enough to be from colonial times. Once inside its heavy wooden door, the place opened to a bar area. An open-air courtyard immediately followed. The courtyard’s floor and walls were tiled with colorful mosaic patterns. The furniture made of steel and wood. A table for two placed at the center of the courtyard beckoned. The scent of something flavorful—spiced rice, perhaps—filled the air. She inhaled deeply and her stomach growled. “Thank you for taking me here,” she said after they were seated and given their drinks.

  “I’m sorry for what happened the last time we had dinner.”

  You mean what happened after we had dinner. Mel frowned. Wasn’t it better to ignore the elephant in the room? “We don’t have to talk about it.”

  “I want to explain.”

  “No explanation is necessary. It’s best we stay focused on work. I’m here to design the best hotel lobby ever. Nothing else matters.”

  He arched a single eyebrow. “Nothing?”

  Mel felt her face grow hot. Whether from desire or embarrassment she didn’t know.

  “Surely other things matter to you besides work?” he pressed.

  Twirling her straw around in her frozen daiquiri stalled time. “Sure, other things matter to me.”

  “Such as?”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, why does it matter to you? I thought the reason we’re here is to efficiently communicate. Make sure the design work doesn’t suffer.”

  “Somehow I don’t believe you’d let anything interfere with your work.”

  No? How wrong he is. Mel contemplated how to respond.

  Luis broke the silence before she could. “It’s me I worry about. I’m afraid I’ll become distracted.”

  “You? Should I pick my jaw off the floor now or later?”

  He let out a sharp laugh. “Either. I’m flexible.”

  “You seem pretty damn driven to me. Why are you worried about getting distracted?”

  She watched him reach for his glass of rum and take a sip. His Adam’s apple bobbed slowly as he swallowed. “Because I’d like to spend more time getting to know you. Unfortunately, I can’t let that happen.”

  “I’m not sure I understand. You invited me to dinner. Both times.”

  Luis let out a hard breath of air. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “Ironically, that I do understand.”

  “You do? Are you going to be any better talking about it?”

  She laughed. If Luis was trying to lighten the mood it was working. “Let’s start our conversation off with something easy. Tell me more about your family.” As soon as the words were out of her mouth she fought back a cringe. His follow-up question to her would be one she didn’t want to answer.

  “Actually, that’s not an easy topic. In fact, it’s quite difficult,” he replied, his voice tight.

  Her head turtled into her neck. “I must have a knack for saying the dumbest things ever. I could have asked your opinion of the weather. But noooooo.”

  “It’s okay. Your question was perfectly normal. It’s the situation that isn’t.”

  Her forehead wrinkled. The straw in her hands twirled circles inside the glass. Wary of saying anything to shut him down, she kept quiet.

  Thankfully, Luis continued to talk. Although his eyes were on her while he spoke, his gaze seemed inward. “Like I said last night, my mother was diagnosed with dementia a few years ago. My father always had a love-hate relationship with me. Despite admiring what I accomplished, he resented when I did something better than his son from his wife. If I got an A on an exam, he’d flaunt it to everyone to really rub it in Raul’s face. He always tried to spur my brother on to beat me.” He paused a moment. “Why he pit Raul and me against each other, I have no idea.”

  Biting her tongue was not working. Questions threatened to bubble out of her as if a gushing fountain. “Wouldn’t that make Raul mad at his father? Not you?”

  “It made both of us mad at our father, as well as each other. My guess is that it was my father’s way of telling Raul that he—the legitimate son—needed to do better than me in life. He let Raul know he was failing as a way of motivating him to improve.”

  “What?”

  “Yeah. The approach was both awful and successful at the same time. Raul was motivated to kick my ass. He desperately wanted to prove to our father that he was smarter than me. Meanwhile, I was on a mission, too. I tried to get our father to think I was also worthy of his love. The upside was that we both pushed ourselves to succeed. Not for the right reasons, of course. But financially positive outcomes nonetheless when we became adults.”

  Mel winced. The story was painful. Proving one’s worth to one’s family was a tale hitting too close to home. “Your father’s tactic couldn’t have resulted in everything being positive. What was the long-term downside?” she asked quietly, already guessing the answer.

  “The downside was that Raul and I grew to be fiercely competitive with each other. We never acted like brothers. There was too much envy and jealousy.”

  “Didn’t your mothers do anything about the situation?”

  “No. Raul’s mother was happy to keep us from being a tight-knit family. My father was a handsome, wealthy guy. She wasn’t too keen on being dumped for his young secretary. That was my mom. The hippie wannabe who took the concept of free love a little too literally.”

  Mel felt her eyes go wide and quickly recovered her expression. “An unusual situation. Still, I’m not going to judge your mom.”

  “Thanks. You may not, but this island had a way of carrying gossip from one end to the other and then back again. People judged my mom plenty. My father’s wife eventually made him fire her. She also made sure my mom couldn’t get work elsewhere. Child support wasn’t as enforced as it is nowadays and my hippie mother refused to sue. Deep down I think she
still loved my father. She blamed the wife for what happened more than my dad.”

  Mel was quiet while she searched for the right words. “I’m not going to put your mother on trial. I wasn’t a party to this. I don’t know who is to blame. Not that placing blame after all these years would help the situation anyway. What matters is that you and your half-brother were left fighting, and trying to pick up bits of broken pieces, instead of gluing the shards back together to make a whole. I don’t know if anyone can uncrack a vase.”

  “I realize that my mother is not blameless. My father certainly played his part, too. After I put her in a nursing facility, I went to her house to clean out her belongings. I found the love letters my dad wrote to her before she became pregnant with me. The letters said that she was his soul mate and that he was sorry he was stuck in a loveless marriage.”

  “Do you believe it?”

  “I’ll never know if he meant any of what he wrote. By all accounts, my mother was an incredibly beautiful woman. She had left the island for a while to do some modeling in the States. When my grandparents asked her to come back home she applied for a job at my father’s company. Her decision to apply there was completely random. She interviewed for a general clerk position. When my father saw her walking out of the HR department he told them to make her his secretary. He didn’t even know if she could type. If it wasn’t love at first sight, it was a least lust.” Luis visibly shuddered. “Not a good thought to have about your parents. Still, the truth is the truth.”

  “Maybe they really were in love,” Mel offered, hoping it was true. At least one part of the dark story should be edged in light.

  “Maybe. I did find at least one of the tokens of affection he’d bought her back in the day. I think there were others, too. Different pieces of jewelry he referred to in the letters. She would have sold them long ago to support me.”

  Mel fought to keep her voice even. “Your father didn’t help support you?”

  “No.” Luis shook his head, his expression neutral. Either this issue no longer bothered him or he was used to suppressing his feelings. “He said his wife would go crazy every time he paid child support. She’d scream that his money rightfully belonged to her and Raul. Luckily, my grades were high and my English excellent. I was able to attend college and go to grad school on full scholarships.” He straightened himself up in his chair. “I’ve written big checks to the universities since then. Paying life forward is important.”

  “I don’t know what to say. Just wow, I guess. I can imagine how different your life would have been without those scholarships.”

  “Yeah. I was plenty pissed at my father back then. Downright bitter, actually. I moved forward with my life anyway. I filled out dozens of financial aid applications. I wasn’t going to let anything, or anyone, stop me. I knew his wife was insistent about my getting no help. She claimed my mother made the mistake, so my mother should be stuck with the bills for it.” Luis let out a tight smile. “I’m the it.”

  “Oh, man.”

  “Exactly.” He frowned, although for the briefest of moments. “I’ve said way too much. In fact, I gave you the definition of TMI.”

  “I think it was the definition of OMG. I am very sorry you went through that.” Without any forethought, she released the daiquiri glass and touched his arm. “I’m glad you told me.”

  What was supposed to be a gesture of simple warmth and understanding morphed into something more meaningful when their eyes locked. An electrical current sparked between them. This time, however, the connection was more than merely skin deep.

  His lips curved into the faintest echo of a smile. “What about you?” he asked. “Or do you want to spend all night hearing about me? Which, by the way, isn’t going to happen. How this little portion of my life snuck out I have no idea. I’ll have to speak to the bartender about what he’s putting in the drinks.”

  “If you want me to talk about my past, the bartender will need to put that same stuff in my drink.”

  “Should I wave over the waitress?”

  “Couldn’t hurt.”

  Laughing, he waved over a waitress and pointed to Mel’s nearly empty drink. Moments later, another daiquiri appeared.

  “Thanks,” Mel said. “Maybe we should also order some of that food you promised.”

  “Your wish is my command.” He raised his arm to bring the waitress back. “Now start talking,” he said to Mel.

  Chapter 14

  Mel sat at the café table unsure whether to give in to Luis’s request. If she opened up, would he disappear? Again? His dump-and-run hadn’t been pleasant the first time. Courting a second go-around was positively dangerous.

  Then again, looking at his handsome face was dangerous too. Along with his naturally tan, taut body. His well-defined physique was readily apparent in the tight-fitting designer shirt. More than his body, his body language turned her on. Luis scooted himself forward in his chair. Everything about his posture showed he was interested in catching every word she was willing to say.

  Talking about her personal life was taboo, even with members of her own family, let alone an important client. A client who was, in essence, her boss for the next few days. A man who had obviously been relieved to end their affair before it started.

  A furrow creased his brow. His lips turned slightly downward. “I know why you’re hesitating. I’m not going to be a jerk this time. Promise. I’m sorry about what happened before. I do want to get to know you.”

  Her hand was getting plenty of exercise swirling the straw in the daiquiri glass. “I’m not upset,” she lied. “Perhaps what happened was for the best. If we’re too open with each other, our work relationship could suffer. I want your project to be successful, and completed on time. Surely you feel the same way.”

  “I’m asking if I can talk to you, not sleep with you.” A slow grin crossed his face. “Believe me, you’re plenty attractive. But I understand what you’re saying. You can relax. I’m not going to kidnap you and tie you in my ship’s cabin like a Caribbean pirate from the seventeenth century.”

  Her eyes grew large. “Not a beat-around-the-bush kind of guy, are you?”

  “Communication is valuable. I don’t mince words. I want to get to know you. What do you say?”

  “I’d say I’m impressed you own a ship.”

  Laughing, he threw his head back. “Yacht, actually. Are you into sailing?”

  “I have no idea. The only ship I’ve sailed on is the Circle Line. You know, the boat that sails around Manhattan to show tourists the City sights.”

  “Then let’s go.”

  “To New York? Are you crazy? I’ve got work to do. Designing your hotel’s lobby, to be precise.”

  He laughed again. “Although New York sounds like a fun idea, no. I mean let’s go to my yacht right now. I’ll tell the waitress to prepare our meals to-go.” He stood up and offered her his hand.

  After a moment’s deliberation, she pushed her chair back and smiled. “Aye, Captain.”

  Five minutes later, they had their food and were out the door. Another half-hour after that they were ready to board his boat.

  Dozens of yachts were docked at the pier. The air was breezier than it had been in town. The palm trees lining the dock swayed gently as warm winds blew. Several antique lampposts lit the area. Speckles of light danced upon the darkened sea. The sound of rippling water grew louder. Gravel crunched under their feet.

  “Which one of these pretties is yours?” she asked.

  He gestured toward a large, white beauty. The yacht stood tall and impressive in its slip. Light from the closest lamppost reflected off the hardwood, making the deck gleam. Self-Made Man was written in bold, blue lettering along the boat’s side. Luis guided Mel onto the boat with one hand while holding their meals in the other.

  �
��It’s beautiful,” she murmured.

  “Thanks. Should I show you around? Or do you want to eat first?”

  “I’m too excited to eat. Sign me up for the tour, Captain. I’m the first one standing in line.”

  He laughed. “You’re also the only other person here. Not much of a wait. Anyway, I like you. I’ll let you to jump any line that may arise in the future.”

  “Now I really feel special,” she teased. Deep down she hoped there was some truth to his statement. It was difficult ignoring the fact she liked him, too. “Lead the way,” she said, making her voice as light as possible.

  The first room she entered was large and glass enclosed. The nautical living room had a lot more sophistication, and value, than her entire studio apartment in New York. A Persian rug with strands of white, blue, and gold graced the floor. Beige couches and chairs enticed her to sit down and run her hands over the leather. From what she could see, the bar tucked in the corner was fully stocked with top-shelf liquor.

  “Would you like a drink?” he asked, placing their take-out boxes in a refrigerator under the counter.

  “Are you saying the rest of the boat is so bad, I’ll need a drink?”

  He smirked. “Yes. I bought a floating bomb shelter. I re-decorated this part to fool visitors.”

  “I figured as much.” She shot him a grin. “If the rest is as bad as you claim, pour away.”

  “Should I make the selection?”

  “Go ahead.”

  “My pleasure. Take a seat.”

  Luis slipped behind the bar while she kicked off her kitten-heel shoes. She sat on the couch with her legs tucked underneath her butt. “Seriously, this is beautiful. How big?”

  “Do you always ask men about their size?”

  “Ha, ha, ha. I meant the boat,” she said flatly.

 

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