Singapore Fling with the Millionaire

by Michelle Douglas

  ‘Because those are the things that make you approachable and will help others relate to you. It creates bonds. And when you make a meaningful bond with another person they’ll be happy to follow you wherever you want to take them—they’ll take a risk on you.’

  He leaned towards her, making her breath catch. ‘And where do intelligence and vision and business know-how fit into this utopian hierarchy of yours?’

  Utopian? ‘They’re important too, but you already have those things in spades.’

  For a fraction of a second the sudden vulnerability in his gaze made her chest clench, but in the next instant it was gone. ‘Look, Christy, I’ve always subscribed to the belief that one should play to their strengths. I’m not gregarious and bubbly.’

  She folded her arms. ‘I’m not saying you have to be an extroverted party animal. You just have to like other people. And before you have the chance to misunderstand my words—I already know you like other people.’

  ‘You can’t know that.’

  ‘Sure I can. I know because of the way you treated me yesterday. And the way you treated Lien.’

  Her mother had instilled in her from an early age to care about others no matter what. Her mother had been the perfect role model, leading by example, which was why she could now recognise that Jamie did his best to look after others too. But who was looking out for him?

  She twisted her hands together. If he wasn’t careful, if he didn’t ease up and de-stress, he’d be in danger of burning himself out. She didn’t want that to happen. She heartily approved of his vision for his company’s future. She wanted him at the helm of MA whether she sold Beach Monday to him or not.

  She moistened her lips and his gaze lowered to them, his eyes darkening. Need clenched low in her belly, and every nerve in her body fired to life, clamouring for attention and release. They stood toe to toe, mirroring each other’s body language, and so close she could feel the barely checked power of his body—it all beat at her in a tempting wave of promise and delight.

  She’d thought her attraction was all one-sided, but with a rush of elation realised it wasn’t. Jamie found her attractive. He wanted her as much as she wanted him. The knowledge left her breathless. ‘You’re so much more than the CEO of MA, Jamie. I think you’re amazing. I love the plans you have for MA. You should be proud of them and of yourself. But enjoying downtime is important too.’

  She touched one finger lightly to his chest, to the spot above his heart, and felt the muscle beneath—hard-packed and solid—and her head spun. ‘Don’t let anyone steal your tail. Don’t let them tell you what you can and can’t be. You can be all the things all at once if you want.’

  Not breaking eye contact, he slowly shook his head. ‘You see things in me that aren’t there.’

  ‘I see you through an artist’s eye.’

  ‘I think you’re seeing what you want to see. You need to be careful I don’t take advantage of that.’

  His words should’ve made her cold all over, but they didn’t. ‘You don’t scare me.’

  ‘Maybe I should. I’m not a warm man, Christy. I’m distant and cold—’

  ‘Not warm?’ A laugh burbled out of her. ‘You’re joking, right?’

  But the expression in his eyes told her he wasn’t. ‘You’re wrong, Jamie. Very wrong. I don’t know who told you that you were cold, but they must’ve had some agenda of their own.’

  ‘Listen...’ She reached up and touched his face, wanting to drive her point home, but the moment she touched him all sentient thought fled. She couldn’t remember what she’d been about to say. She swallowed. ‘I...’

  The light in his eyes flared, and his hands curved around her shoulders. That hot, hungry gaze roved over her face and she was amazed she didn’t melt to a puddle at his feet. ‘Christy?’

  Her name was a groan and a question. She answered it by rising on tiptoe and pressing her lips to his.

  She’d been right—his lips were the perfect blend of soft and firm and they turned her world upside down. He kissed her back with a single-minded gentleness that had her melting against him, her hands pressing against the hard planes of his chest, thrilling her palms. He kissed her as if she were made of something fine and fragile—porcelain, crystal, fairy floss—and as if he were determined to take every care and appreciate her fully.

  It had her gasping and clinging to him. And then it made her perverse. She wanted to make him greedy and reckless...to lose control. Clenching one hand in the material of his shirt, she anchored herself to him and boldly swept her tongue across the seam of his lips and into his mouth. The hand at her waist gripped her tighter, sending tentacles of pleasure spiralling outwards.

  She felt him smile against her lips, and she couldn’t help but smile too. And then his hand cupped the back of her head and he kissed her with such merciless thoroughness all she could do was cling to him and kiss him back and pray he’d never stop.

  Too soon, though, those lips gentled on hers again as if to quieten the storm they’d created inside her and to bring her back to herself before, finally, breaking contact.

  He rested his forehead against hers, as if he needed to catch his breath, before moving away. She focused on unclenching her hands from his shirt.

  ‘You’re missing the laser show,’ he murmured.

  ‘I don’t think I am.’

  He smiled, but he moved further away, putting a foot of distance between them, and she glanced up to see consternation in his eyes. A chill speared into her chest.

  ‘I owe you an apology, Christy. That was unprofessional of me. Ours is supposed to be a business relationship, and instead I’ve taken advantage of—’

  ‘No.’ His words froze her to her very marrow. ‘Please don’t apologise. I’m just as much to blame as you.’ More to blame. She’d been the one to initiate that kiss, not him. Dear God. What on earth had she been thinking?

  He smiled but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Perhaps blame is too harsh a word.’

  She had no intention of getting into bed with the enemy. Not that he was the enemy per se, but talk about conflict of interest! ‘Absolutely.’ She nodded once, twice...thrice. She couldn’t seem to stop. ‘It was just one of those things. An impulse of the moment.’

  ‘A lovely moment,’ he said, his eyes gentle and his mouth firm.

  Gorgeously firm.

  Don’t think about that. He was trying to tell her that it couldn’t happen again. And she agreed with him wholeheartedly.

  Christy took another step away, and James scanned her face, something inside him twisting at the stricken expression in her eyes.

  Her lips twisted—an attempt at humour. ‘But a moment we better not repeat,’ she said, not looking at him.

  In that moment before they’d kissed, she’d made him forget everything—that he was a Cooper-Ford, all he owed his father and mother, the promises he’d made. He’d simply become a man, nothing more, nothing less. It’d felt liberating. The sense of freedom still clamoured through him demanding more—more freedom, more Christy. He did what he could to leash it.

  Christy had made him feel seen—truly seen—and understood. He’d no more been able to stop from kissing her than he’d be able to stop a falling Manhattan skyscraper.

  But it couldn’t happen again.

  ‘I’m not giving my tail away.’

  She murmured the words as if to herself, and if he’d been more himself he’d have let it pass, but he was still off-balance from their kiss. ‘What does that mean? I didn’t understand the reference the first time you made it.’

  She shook her head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  He bet it did. He bet it mattered a lot. When he didn’t say anything, she eventually blew out a little breath. ‘Do you know the fairy tale The Little Mermaid?’

  ‘The Disney movie?’

  ‘It’s a Hans Christian A
ndersen fairy tale. The little mermaid saves the unconscious prince from drowning when his ship runs aground in a storm. She falls in love with him and asks a powerful witch to give her legs—there are tests and hardships, in typical fairy-tale fashion, prices to be paid.’

  He nodded to tell her he was with her so far.

  ‘The witch tells her that when she has legs, her tail will be gone forever. She’ll never be able to return to her own world.’

  He found himself fascinated by her story. ‘What happened?’

  ‘She chose the legs and went ashore to find her prince, only to discover that he believed another woman had saved his life and that he was marrying her instead. He sends the little mermaid away.’

  Jamie’s heart stuttered in his chest. ‘But where did she go? She couldn’t go back home. She—’ The full impact of the little mermaid giving away her tail hit him. ‘That’s an awful story!’

  ‘It’s a cautionary tale.’ Then she rolled her eyes. ‘It’s also only one version of the fairy tale. There are others—the most cheerful being she gets the prince, but only for a night, before she has to sacrifice herself. But, in doing so, she wins an eternal soul.’

  Acid burned through him. ‘You’ve given away your tail in the past?’ The thought of someone taking advantage of her made him want to smash something.

  ‘Not to the same extent as the little mermaid.’ She glanced away, her lips pressed together in a tight line. ‘When I was at uni I had a boyfriend who stole my artwork and passed it off as his own. He won a university prize, which included a three-month guest residency at a gallery that I’d been hoping to win. Winning that prize was more important to him than I was, apparently. He used me for his own ends, played me for a fool.’

  He stared at her, horrified. ‘That’s... It’s appalling.’ His stomach gave a nauseating roll. ‘And you think I might be like him? You think I’ll steal your work and—’

  ‘No!’ She reached out and touched his arm. ‘I’ve absolutely no reason to believe you or MA would ever do anything like that.’

  She pulled her hand back, and he didn’t know if he was sorry or glad. Damn it all to hell, he was getting too involved. He had to pull back. But the thought of taking advantage of her in the way she’d just described sickened him to his marrow.

  ‘Stop looking at me like that, Jamie. This isn’t about you. It’s about me.’

  She looked the teensiest bit cross and for some reason it made him breathe a little easier.

  ‘I came to Singapore to try and clear my head. To work out if I want to sell Beach Monday or not.’

  He did his best to channel distance. Remoteness. Coldness.

  ‘Kissing you...’

  She gave a shaky laugh and heat exploded through him again.

  ‘Well, let’s just say that’s muddying my head even further.’

  He definitely couldn’t kiss her again. She needed some breathing space. It didn’t seem too much to ask and—

  ‘Mind you, I think that kiss might be worth a bit of brain fuzziness.’

  He choked. She what?

  She sent him a grin and he couldn’t help huffing out a laugh.

  ‘I’m not saying it was wise or that we should ever repeat it,’ she said. ‘But you’re looking far too serious. Come on, let’s walk home.’

  ‘Walk?’

  She held up her phone. ‘Apparently it’s only fifteen minutes back to Clarke Quay—and it’s beside the river so it should be pretty.’

  His heart thudded. Pretty and ridiculously romantic. He couldn’t recall Singapore being this romantic on his previous visits.

  ‘Thank you for this evening, Jamie—dinner, the view, the light show—it was amazing.’

  They turned and made their way in the direction of home, careful not to touch. ‘I’m glad you had a nice time.’ He had too, he suddenly realised. That might be the oddest thing of all. He’d offered out of duty, but she’d made him forget about duty.

  It occurred to him then that too much time spent in Christy’s company could be perilous. He was in danger of forgetting his mission.

  He made a decision then and there to give Christy the time and space she needed this week, but to absent himself as much as he could. ‘You’re free to spend the rest of the week however you wish, Christy. There’s no need to check in with me. I’m afraid, though, that my schedule won’t allow me time off for sightseeing. Focus on recharging your batteries and we’ll talk business next week.’

  She stared at him. ‘Are you sure...?’

  He nodded. He was very sure.

  CHAPTER SIX

  JAMES HADN’T MEANT to clap eyes on Christy at all the following day. He’d made his excuses the previous evening with more grace than speed. He’d planned to spend the next few days at the store with Lien. She’d been understandably rocked by the vandalism and he didn’t want her working alone. He wanted to introduce her to the security guards he’d hired—one male, one female—and make sure she felt comfortable with them.

  He’d wanted away from the disturbing feelings Christy sent erupting through him. Escaping to work, though, hadn’t helped him escape those.

  When he caught sight of her on the stairs of their apartment building the following afternoon, he should’ve strode straight across to the elevator and pretended he hadn’t seen her. Instead he found himself taking the stairs two at a time to catch up with her. It’d be polite to ask her how her day had been, and if she had everything she needed.

  Her tumble of red-gold hair spilled over her shoulder as she peered over the railing to see who followed her. Her face lit up and he had to fight the impulse to take the steps three at a time.

  ‘Hello,’ she called out, waiting for him to catch her up and sending him a smile that had his groin tightening.

  ‘Hello, yourself.’ He scanned her face and nodded when she raised questioning eyebrows. ‘It’s official—Singapore is good for you.’

  Her answering smile had his skin pulling tight. Uh, make that tighter. ‘I’ve had such a fun day. Come and see what I bought.’

  She flung her door open and he found himself following, intrigued in spite of himself. When what he should be doing was making his excuses and disappearing upstairs. Still, what harm could there be in seeing her purchases and hearing about her day? He was her host, after all.

  She dropped her bags to the sofa, upending several of them so that a range of silky bathrobes in a rainbow of bright colour spilled across the upholstery.

  ‘I went to Chinatown. It was so amazing. There’s a Buddhist temple that was seriously spectacular.’ She pulled her phone out and showed him the photographs. ‘And these...’ She fingered the material of the robes.

  ‘Are what? Going to make great gifts for your friends back home?’ he teased, trying not to imagine her in a vivid yellow one with sprays of blue flowers splashed across it, or the scarlet one bearing spears of fat pink and white orchids.

  He swallowed, suddenly parched because he could vividly imagine her in one of those robes, naked beneath. He could imagine untying the sash and letting it fall open to reveal pale flesh, slipping it from her shoulders to drop to the floor and pool at her feet. He’d drop to his knees and bury—

  He snapped upright, horrified at how quickly his imagination had taken over. He glanced at her in panic before letting out a slow breath. She hadn’t noticed—too intent on her purchases. ‘They will make nice gifts, but the colours and the patterns...’

  He realised then what had her so absorbed. ‘Creative inspiration?’

  She nodded.

  ‘Are you ever not creating?’ He’d been going to call it work, but it seemed the wrong word to use.

  ‘There are ideas everywhere here. I can’t help but feel inspired.’ She glanced up, her gaze sharp. ‘You’ve no idea what a gift that is. Thank you.’

  She was thanking him? He hadn’t
done anything!

  She pulled out a tiny jade Buddha wrapped in tissue paper. ‘The jade at the markets was amazing. Beads and bracelets and pendants.’

  He glanced at her purchases. ‘You didn’t buy any?’

  She turned away, but he saw the way she bit her lip. ‘I can’t spend all of my money on my first shopping trip.’

  Her words were light, but he cursed himself all the same. Her world was very different from his and her business had only just started to take off. She wouldn’t have too much excess cash and what she did have she wouldn’t be able to afford to simply splash around. She’d probably be pouring most of it back into Beach Monday.

  ‘Very true.’ He kept his voice light too. ‘And if you decide you need jade jewellery, you can simply visit the markets again.’

  Her smile was his reward. ‘What do you think? Have you ever been there?’

  She nodded at his hands, and with a start he realised he still held her phone and was supposed to be looking at her photos of the temple. ‘Um...no. But it looks amazing.’

  She plucked her phone from his fingers, her eyes narrowing. ‘Have you experienced any Singaporean culture at all, Jamie? Or do you fly in, close your deals, and fly straight back out again?’

  He loosened his tie. ‘I, uh...’

  Her hands went to her hips. ‘You’ve not been to the Buddhist temple; you’ve not been to the Chinatown markets. Have you been on a river cruise or gone to the night zoo, walked through Little India or been inside one of the Hindu temples?’

  ‘I’ve been for a cruise on the bay.’ It’d been with the owner of the centre where the new MA store was located. He’d been too busy negotiating with the other man to spend too much time taking in the scenery, though. ‘I’ve seen the laser shows. I’ve dined at many of the restaurants at the Marina Bay Sands Hotel, and even swum in their infinity pool. I’m intimately acquainted with the Orchard Road strip.’

  Very slowly, she nodded. ‘For a moment there I forgot we were from such completely different worlds. You live the high life and I don’t.’

  A bad taste filled his mouth. The world was inherently unfair and it was only a stroke of luck—an accident of birth—that had made him one of the lucky ones.