Forbidden Hawaiian Nights

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Forbidden Hawaiian Nights Page 8

by Cathy Williams


  Outside, the steady pounding of the rain was like a background symphony.

  ‘Why would you assume that I might be involved with someone?’ Max eventually asked and this time, when she smiled, it was more genuine.

  ‘Because…you’re the kind of guy I guess certain types of women would be attracted to…’

  ‘Certain types of women?’ His eyebrows shot up and Mia blushed.

  ‘Sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.’ But what she had meant to do was deflect him from any suspicion that she might be one of those women.

  ‘Firstly, you really need to stop apologising, and secondly, it would take a great deal more than that to offend me. I’m curious, however, to know what these certain types of women might be like.’

  Mia bristled because she could tell that he was mocking her. However, she’d started the conversation, and now couldn’t see a way of abandoning it. Besides, why not be honest? She was curious. Did he have a type? All men had a type. What was his? It was shameful just how curious she was.

  ‘Sophisticated,’ she said, head to one side, frowning in thought while surreptitiously watching him.

  There was only one light on in the room and the mellow glow emphasised the harsh beauty of his features. He was so achingly perfect, from the curve of his sensual mouth to the brooding intensity of his deep navy, almost black eyes. He had one hand on his thigh and his legs were spread apart, inviting her to look at the way his jeans were pulled taut across muscular thighs.

  ‘Sophisticated and glamorous,’ she added breathlessly.

  ‘Sophisticated…’ Max murmured. ‘Glamorous… Well, yes, I suppose those women do fit the broad spec.’

  Of course they would, Mia thought sourly, although still smiling as she looked at him. Sophisticated, glamorous men always went for sophisticated, glamorous women. No big shocks to the system there!

  ‘Although,’ he continued, ‘there’s no one pining for me back in England. It’s been a few weeks since I went out with anyone, as it happens.’

  ‘I’m surprised you’re not married,’ Mia said in a clear breach of the employer-employee relationship she knew she should cling fast to.

  He was the most guarded human being she had ever met in her life. He couldn’t have been more different from Izzy, from the way he looked to the way he acted, but then she was beginning to flesh out the bigger picture about their family dynamics.

  He was the oldest, and he was the one who had been the powerhouse and decision maker of the family. She knew nothing about James, the mysterious middle child, the one Izzy absolutely adored, but she knew that Max had overseen his sister’s movements with beady, watchful eyes. Wasn’t that why she had ended up in charge of a hotel with a brief to kit it out just the way Max wanted? He had handed her a golden opportunity, just as long as it conformed to what he wanted, and if it didn’t then he would not think twice about snatching back that golden opportunity.

  He was a workaholic but even workaholics got married, had kids and assumed the mantle of a domestic life. Okay, a high-powered, rich-beyond-words domestic life, but even so…

  The sophisticated guy would marry the sophisticated woman because that was always the next step on the ladder.

  And Max Stowe was the epitome of drop-dead gorgeous sophistication. He oozed it from every pore. Women followed his movements out of the corner of their eyes and men tiptoed around him, in awe of that aura of powerful invincibility he seemed to radiate.

  It had only been a handful of days, but she had seen enough to know that he controlled the world around him and everyone in it with an iron fist.

  But she hadn’t been kidding when she had let slip that she thought he lived a lonely life. She just couldn’t help herself from wondering why he did.

  ‘I don’t pay you to be surprised about any aspect of my private life,’ he murmured.

  His words were like freezing water poured over her yet there was a darkening in his eyes when he spoke that made her skin tingle. He looked relaxed, lazy…and yet strangely alert. There was an undercurrent of sizzling sexuality in the air between them but she wasn’t sure whether she was imagining it or not.

  Of course you are. He just said that he liked sophisticated women…

  ‘No. You don’t…’ Her voice hitched in her throat.

  ‘But…’ He shrugged and smiled slowly. ‘It’s no big secret that I don’t do long-term relationships, far less marriage.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Life’s too short for the complications they bring.’ His voice was deadly serious. ‘I work hard and I’m only human. I enjoy having fun. But the fun stops when conversations about permanence begin.’

  Mia was desperate to probe but the doorbell shattered the bubble they were in. She started and blinked as he vaulted upright and headed to the front door, waving her down, even though she didn’t make a move to get to her feet.

  He didn’t do permanence. He didn’t do long-term relationships. He would certainly have no sympathy for a sister who’d cut and run because of a broken affair. Strangely, the fact that he had not hauled Izzy back to make a case for herself was a credit to him. It showed that he had tried to see the bigger picture even though he fundamentally probably couldn’t grasp it.

  He returned with a selection of delicious looking food.

  ‘I know the whereabouts of your kitchen,’ he drawled, dumping the bags on the weathered coffee table he had dragged in front of the sofa where she was sitting. ‘I’ll bring in everything we need. You stay put. The less weight you put on that ankle, the faster it’ll mend. Two days and you should be able to move around.’

  The food was amazing. The conversation reverted to normal topics to do with the hotel. They talked about the budget that would be needed to landscape the grounds.

  Her head was still buzzing with the taboo subject of his personal life, though…

  Watching her as she ate, using the chopsticks like a pro, Max marvelled at a conversation that had veered wildly off course from the straight and narrow to the unpredictable and personal.

  Being here, with the rain outside and darkness pressing against the windows, was like being in a cocoon. Being in this country was like being in a cocoon!

  Real life with all its boundaries and restrictions was temporarily on hold.

  He lowered his eyes, shielding his expression, but every pore and nerve in his body was tuned in to her as she delicately sampled the food straight from the boxes, making little noises of satisfaction that she probably wasn’t even aware that she was making.

  He’d brought over a couple of books from the bookshelf and stuck a cushion on top for a makeshift footstool. Her bandaged foot was propped on it, the other leg tucked under her. She was supple. She surfed! She was going to be supple!

  The women he had dated in the past, those sophisticated women at whom he suspected Mia secretly sneered, largely abhorred anything to do with outdoor forms of exercise and swimming would have posed an impossible challenge. Their preferred form of exercise involved designer outfits and working out in a gym where they could see themselves in vast mirrors. Being soaked in open water would have sent them running for the hills. Those women seemed like a species from another planet.

  Life on the other side of the pond was, what felt like, a million miles away.

  The rigid parameters of his life were a million miles away…

  He’d never had a break from being a tycoon. He knew that he was feared and respected in equal measure. From the age of twenty-two, he had made himself impregnable because he’d had no choice. To succeed in the hothouse of big business, you had to be tough, and being tough had come easily because he’d already had a head start in that area.

  He’d been emotionally tough from the age of ten and he’d learnt how to use that to his advantage.

  Now, over a decade later, he was an iron man.

  But s
uddenly, here…

  He questioned whether he had become so isolated in his ivory tower and so focused on maintaining control over every aspect of his life, both emotionally and professionally, that he had managed successfully to eliminate every shred of spontaneous experience that didn’t conform to his exacting rules.

  Mia surprised and unsettled him. She wasn’t afraid to speak her mind. She resented him helping her and was unimpressed with his money. She constantly pushed against the Keep Out signs and, instead of slamming the barriers down further, he hesitated. He hesitated because he was oddly invigorated by the novelty of having someone question him.

  The fact that he fancied her added to the mix.

  All told, a little novelty went a long way and he was jaded. Life in the city was lived in fifth gear. He barely noticed the cool luxury of his house in Holland Park, with its marble and glass and soft silk rugs, and Hockney and Lichtenstein pieces interspersed with more unknown originals. He seldom visited his places in Barbados and the Cotswolds, although he did stay at his penthouse in New York, largely because he went there on business a fair amount. He almost certainly wouldn’t spend much time on the family yacht his brother had just bought.

  In under a fortnight, he would return to his comfort zone but, for the first time, he wondered if this might not be a chance to step out of the box.

  He glanced around him. He’d already half stepped out of the box just by being here. He hadn’t been in a place like this for a long time. Never, when he thought about it.

  He didn’t do hanging out in women’s houses but, even if he did, none of the houses would have resembled this one. This was a house filled with its occupant’s personality. Every book on the bookshelf told a story. The two hardbacks under her foot were tomes on the virgin rainforests of Borneo and Gardens that Changed the World, respectively. Her kitchen was a riot of colour, with reminders stuck on the fridge under magnets. The furniture was old, soft and enveloping. There was not a hint of white, marble, chrome or glass anywhere to be seen.

  The house reflected Mia.

  It was as much a novelty for him as she was. His resolve never to mix business with pleasure began to fray at the edges.

  ‘Molokai.’

  Absorbed in the improbable meandering of his thoughts, Max surfaced to pick up what she had been saying about Izzy’s plans for the hotel. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘Were you listening to a word I’ve been saying?’

  Max muttered something and nothing. He’d been listening but most of what she had been saying had been sidelined by the more pressing business of watching the movement of her mouth and wondering what it might taste like.

  Wondering what it might feel like to rebel against his own self-imposed restraints.

  What it might feel like to take a walk on the wild side for a week…ten days, max…

  ‘You were telling me why my ideas for the hotel were flushed down the toilet…’

  ‘I was telling you that Izzy went to a lot of trouble to come up with what she felt would really work for tourists wanting to immerse themselves in the real feel of Hawaii and the islands.’

  ‘Carry on. I’m all ears. How is your foot feeling?’

  ‘Much better.’ A brief hesitation. ‘There’s no need for you to stay here any longer. I can make my way to bed and I’ll be fine in the morning.’

  ‘Hardly fine enough to trek through the grounds of the hotel so that you can fill me in on all those plans in the making.’

  ‘No. Maybe not.’

  ‘Which is why you need to carry on. Fill me in right now on what Izzy had in mind, ease me in gently to the way my vision for the hotel has been roundly discarded…’

  ‘Well, she did some travelling to the other islands… You know, each island has its own identity. All you’ve seen is this island and you’ve only seen a tiny bit of it, the bit that all the tourists see. You see the beach and the surfers and the restaurants and food trucks, but there’s so much more to Hawaii than all of that, and that’s what your sister was so interested in finding out about.’

  ‘So much more…’

  ‘I know you think that when it comes to an expensive hotel cold, soulless luxury is the only thing a rich clientele would be interested in…’

  Max burst out laughing, and when he sobered up his eyes were alight with vibrant amusement.

  ‘Not,’ he said, grinning, ‘that you would ever succumb to gross exaggeration…’

  Mia smiled sheepishly and dipped her eyes. ‘We worked on it together, really. I think she was impressed by my vision for an eco-friendly outside space, with natural spots between the trees and shady areas bursting with home-grown vegetables and herbs.’

  ‘So she decided to do a bit of adventuring… Did she also decide to stay put on one of the other islands in search of inner peace after her relationship ran aground?’ He didn’t expect her to answer that one and she didn’t. She was staunch in her loyalty and he admired that. Between them, the Chinese food was beginning to congeal. He would see to that later.

  ‘There’s no need for sarcasm,’ Mia said coldly.

  ‘Absolutely none. Please. Continue. I’m all ears.’

  He gazed at her, utterly serious, and she gazed right back at him with narrow-eyed suspicion.

  ‘She got inspiration from all the different islands. Molokai… Maui… Kauai…’

  ‘She…never said. I would never have guessed,’ Max said heavily. ‘It’s inspired. I just wish she’d felt she had the freedom to discuss it with me. No matter.’ He began to stand, reaching for the containers and the plates, his voice brisk when he next spoke.

  ‘And don’t stand up. I’ll clear this and then I’ll make sure you’re settled with some painkillers to hand before I leave. And tomorrow…?’ He paused and their eyes met. ‘Well, it’s time for me to see first-hand what you’re talking about. I have the final say on what gets done on the hotel I’m paying for, but never let it be said that I’m not willing to see things from another angle.’

  ‘And you’ll go in with an open mind?’

  ‘I’m taking it from that tone of voice that you’re harbouring doubts about my sincerity…’

  ‘Would you blame me?’

  ‘I’m assuming that’s a rhetorical question,’ he drawled. ‘But it’s by the by, because the one way you can make absolutely sure that I give it a chance is to persuade me.’

  ‘That’s what I’ve just been trying to do!’

  ‘I need more than persuasion from a sofa in your house, Mia. You tell me about all these inspirational islands…that’s fine because you and I are going to travel to all of them and you can talk as much as you want about the vision my sister had for the hotel. And who knows? I might just buy into it…’

  In the ensuing brief silence, he watched her face, and in his head, he thought, What would it feel like to let go for once?

  CHAPTER SIX

  THIS DIDN’T FEEL like work. Waiting nervously in her house, unable to relax but likewise unable to walk around because her bandaged foot was still hurting even though the sharp pain of the day before had eased, Mia had no idea how she had ended up agreeing to a four-day tour of the islands.

  But, then again, how had she managed to end up confiding all sorts of personal details about her life to him? She rarely confided and she certainly never had heart-to-hearts with anyone about what had happened in her marriage. Had she been so distracted?

  One minute, she had been solid in her determination to maintain a businesslike approach to their working relationship and, the next minute, he was carrying her into her house, dealing with a sprained ankle and somehow enticing confidences from her that should not have been revealed.

  When she had closed her eyes the night before, she had been overwhelmed with an image of his dark head as he knelt at her feet and again she had felt that powerful urge to lace her fingers through h
is springy hair to see what it would feel like.

  Now, waiting for him to show up at the time he’d said he would, her heart was leaping inside her and she had given up trying to project what this four-day sightseeing hop might look like.

  When she started thinking about it, she had to ward off a panic attack, so she’d concluded that her best bet was to cross the bridge when she came to it.

  He could have just given her time off work for her foot to heal, because wasn’t that what any normal, considerate boss would have done in the circumstances? But, as he had said, time was money, and he didn’t have a lot of time to play around with—not with England and his mega-high-powered life impatiently waiting for him. Plus, he was hardly the normal, considerate type, was he?

  She just wished she could have felt more resentful, but as she waited for him to show up she couldn’t quite subdue a simmering sense of excitement.

  She had packed workman-like clothes. If he wanted to explore where Izzy’s inspiration had come from, then he was going to be in for a shock, because he wouldn’t be on a sightseeing tour of the usual tourist destinations and he wouldn’t be taken to the sort of uber-luxurious hotels to which he was accustomed. Accordingly, she had packed a sturdy selection: two pairs of jeans and some cargo pants, tee shirts and hiking boots and thick hiking socks. She wasn’t sure whether she would be up to any hiking boots scenario, but just in case…

  He hadn’t asked her what clothes to bring, so tough if he decided to pack stuff that was inappropriate.

  When she thought about that, she couldn’t resist smirking, but the tension was back full steam when, at a little after two in the afternoon, she heard the deep roar of his car as his driver pulled up outside her house.

  The torrential rain of the day before had disappeared, replaced by the usual bright skies and warm sun. The weather here could be like that. All sound and fury one minute, gently caressing the next.

 

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