Wanton Heat (A Feel the Heat Novel) (Entangled Brazen) (12 page)

“You’ve gone quiet.” He half turned toward her, resting his arm along the back of the bench. “Should I be worried?”

“Absolutely.” She pointed at the empty beach in front of them. “It’s a sin that a place as gorgeous as this isn’t on the tourist map. And did you notice the lack of resort guests as we strolled through the grounds?”

“I noticed.” By his casual shrug, he didn’t seem all that concerned. “Expanding this place will only create rooms that won’t be filled.”

“They’ll be filled all right, and you know it.” She made a picture frame with her hands and panned it left to right, encompassing the resort’s sole pool, the beach, and the barbecue/bar area. “Kaluna’s given AW Advertising a massive budget to ensure worldwide coverage of this place, and we stand by our work.”

“So you can give me a guarantee?”

Annoyed by his baiting her, she lowered her arms. “You know there are no guarantees in business, but I can tell you this. You’re smart. You would’ve researched AW and seen what we’ve done with Kaluna’s flagship Palm Bay resort and the new Whitsunday resort.”

She swept her arm wide, to encompass the view. “With Kaluna’s planned renovation and an update to the resort, AW Advertising will get the people here.”

“You’re that confident?”

She nodded. “I’m not in the habit of saying things I don’t mean.”

“In that case, tell me you can’t wait to get back to the US and leave all this behind.”

Confused, Zoe searched his face for answers. Answers she didn’t like once the implication of what he’d asked hit her.

He’d trapped her. He wanted her to say she didn’t want to leave. But why? Unless…

“Don’t tell me.” She clutched her heart in a mock swoon, resorting to flippant to handle what could be potentially dangerous admissions on both their parts. “You’re going to miss me, and you want me to stay?”

“I didn’t say that.” He reached out and touched her shoulder, his fingertip trailing down her bare arm and leaving a trail of goose bumps in its wake.

“Because you wanted
me
to say it,” she said, swatting away his hand. “Coward.”

“Name-calling won’t get me to agree to your proposal.”

“Then what will?” She showed him her palms, nothing to hide. “I’ll be honest here, Dom. I’m done. You’ve seen what I have to offer on behalf of AW. We can do great things together. But your evasiveness is starting to worry me.”

And piss her off, but she wisely kept that gem to herself. There was only so far her bluntness would take her.

“Let me think about it, and I’ll give you my answer tomorrow, when we return to Osturo.”

Zoe had to be happy with that. It was the first time he’d acknowledged he’d even consider her proposal, so it was a win. The fact she had to wait another day for his answer? Considering it would be their final twenty-four hours together, and they’d be on a stunning island…well, maybe it wasn’t all bad.

“Why are we staying ’til tomorrow?”

“Because some things can’t be rushed.”

She had no idea what he meant, but the way he was staring at her? Made her supremely uncomfortable. He looked like a guy as out of his league as she was.

Lord help them both.

Zoe didn’t believe in romance. Trumped-up bullshit that some guys used to get what they ultimately wanted. Sex.

But considering Dom had already scored in that regard, she had no idea why he’d gone to all this trouble.

He’d organized some grand surprise for her apparently, and it had to be by moonlight. She shouldn’t be this excited, but she was. Not many people did nice stuff for her. She didn’t let them, preferring to take the short and sweet approach to everything in her life. So being indulged by a sexy prince on her last night on Ancora? She’d go with it for now.

“Keep your eyes closed, we’re almost there,” he said, holding her hand tight as he led her along a rough path. “And no peeking.”

“You know if I fall and break my ankle, I’m going to sue, right?”

“I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his breath fanning her ear, and damned if she didn’t believe him.

Dom was that kind of guy: Upstanding. Responsible. Caring. He’d make a great boyfriend. Husband, too. Something his dumbass fiancée obviously hadn’t realized. It wasn’t nice to think ill of the dead, but Zoe hadn’t known the woman, so it didn’t count.

“That’s what they all say,” she said, stumbling a little on purpose.

His arm instantly slid around her waist, anchoring her securely to his side. Hmm…maybe there were benefits to being a helpless female after all.

“Haven’t you had a guy look after you before?”

“I don’t need looking after,” she said, wondering when her usual independent spiel had become so tired and old.

For the longest time, she hadn’t wanted a long-term relationship. As for marriage, she’d never wanted to participate in the whole “initial grand passion fading to like and ultimately dislike” that it entailed. She’d attributed her apathy over the years to her parents’ warped marriage, but it was more than that.

She just couldn’t imagine loving one guy enough to want to be tied to him for life.

She’d been in love a few times: college infatuations mostly, which had fizzled out. But nothing earth-shattering. And never anything that lasted beyond a few months. Her breakups had been swift and clean. Which signaled that she’d never been fully emotionally invested in the first place.

It hadn’t bothered her, and as the years had passed, while girlfriends settled down to domestic bliss and babies, she continued to live life on her terms: fast and furious. It suited her.

Until that last one-night stand when
she’d
taken a stand.

When a badass like her bawled after having reasonably good sex resulting in orgasm, there had to be something wrong. Maybe she’d had one too many casual encounters. Maybe she kept hanging out with the wrong kind of guy. But whatever had snapped inside her that night, she’d taken it as a sign to change.

She wasn’t on the lookout for a husband; far from it. She’d just wanted to take a break from the meaningless one-nighters and focus on doing a kick-ass job for AW. A plan that had been working fine, until she’d met Dom.

“You don’t believe in marriage?”

“I’ve never met anyone worth loving enough to spend the rest of my life with.”

The simple truth made her sound harsh and judgmental and picky. He’d probably think she was a heartless bitch. His opinion of her shouldn’t matter, but it did. Stupid, considering she’d never see him again after tomorrow.

“I understand,” he said, so softly she barely heard it. “It’s important to have standards.”

Great, now he was picturing her as some kind of saint. If he only knew. This saint’s halo had slipped to her ankles a long time ago.

“It’s also important to live life to the fullest, and that’s what I’ve done.” Did that sound as shallow to him as it did to her?

“But now?”

Trust Mr. Intuitive to home in on what she hadn’t said rather than what she’d said.

“Now I’m looking for something more.” Uh-oh. Where the hell had
that
come from?

He didn’t respond, but she could hear his soft breathing in the night silence, as she silently cursed for opening up like that.

She could blame the surrealism of the situation, but she knew better. Dom was easy to talk to. He was a good listener who seemed genuinely interested in her and who asked the right questions. If she were ever foolish enough to give her heart to any guy, she’d want someone like him.

“Open your eyes,” he said, his arm tightening around her waist.

Her eyelids fluttered open, and she gasped.

The scene before her was like something out of a romantic movie: a private, natural lagoon fringed by a lemon grove, moonlight glinting off the water’s surface, with a picnic laid out on the water’s edge. Tea light candles rimmed the picnic blanket, their flames flickering softly on the still night.

“Do you like it?”

Zoe couldn’t breathe. And her damn eyes burned with the sting of unshed tears.

This was too thoughtful, too nice, too much.

“It’s beautiful,” she said, not surprised when her voice quavered. “Thank you.”

As if sensing how overwhelmed she was, he didn’t say anything more and led her to the blanket. Before she could sit, he captured her face in his hands.

“We may have come together in the oddest of ways, but I wanted tonight to be about us. About enjoying each other’s company. No expectations. No regrets.”

The perfect speech to go with the perfect picnic. So why did Zoe have more than her fair share of regrets now that their time together was coming to an end? And those damn regrets had nothing to do with business.

“No regrets,” she echoed, a second before his lips brushed hers in a soft butterfly kiss that melted her heart.

She wanted to deepen the kiss, wanted to obliterate the uncharacteristic glut of feelings clogging her chest, with wild good-bye sex. But Dom eased away, staring at her with questions she couldn’t answer in his eyes.

“Do you want to eat or swim first?”

“But I didn’t bring a swimsuit…oh.” At last, they were on the same page. A girl could get swept away by the romance of an evening like this, but the faster she grounded herself in sex, the better. No point getting used to this. They were worlds apart in so many ways, and Zoe the realist trumped Zoe the newly awakened closet romantic any day.

“What’s wrong?” And just like that, he homed in how uncomfortable she was in this scenario.

“I’m a tad overwhelmed.” She answered honestly, rather than coating her response in a cloak of deceit.

“By a little romance?”

“Uh-huh.” She sank onto the blanket, tucked her knees up, and wrapped her arms around them. Classic defensive posture, but if he reached for her again, she may just blubber. “Look at me. I’m a spiky-haired bigmouth who barrels through life without taking time to smell the roses.”

He snapped his fingers and winked. “Damn. Forgot the roses.”

She smiled through her tears. “I’m not sure if it’s all this or the fact that we’re leaving the island tomorrow or I’m just growing sentimental in my old age, but I’m feeling a little fragile.”

“Can’t imagine a tough girl like you crying,” he said, squeezing one of her biceps, trying to make her laugh.

To her absolute horror, she burst into tears.

“Hey, come here.” He tried to bundle her into his arms, and she resisted for all of two seconds before giving in to the luxury of being held.

Unfortunately, once she started she couldn’t stop. That’s the thing about crying. Because she rarely cried, when she did, it was ugly. Real ugly. Great, snot-clogging sobs that made her body shake as she buried her head deeper into his chest.

He let her cry, smoothing her hair, her back. He didn’t make stupid
ssh
sounds or mutter trite words. Instead, his silent comfort eventually seeped into her weary soul, and the tears dried up. And with it came the reality that she’d now have to answer the hard questions. Questions she could barely fathom, let alone devise a response for.

Because deep down, Zoe knew why she’d just made a fool of herself.

Despite all the logical reasons why she shouldn’t fall for a guy like Dom, she already had.

In less than a week, she’d developed feelings for a guy as unobtainable as her being crowned Miss Universe. And it hurt. Hurt like a bitch that she’d have to walk away from him, from this, all too soon.

She placed her palms on his chest and pushed, grateful when he released her. “Don’t look at me.”

She held her hands over her face. Yeah, like that would be an improvement on the blotchy red skin and puffy bloodshot eyes.

“You’re asking the impossible.” He gently lowered her hands, not letting go. “I can’t not look at you.”

And damn if her heart didn’t twang again.

“It’s okay to express emotions,” he said, his lips brushing soft kisses across her knuckles. “Even for a toughie like you.”

She managed a wan smile. “Guess you can tell I don’t cry very often.”

“You’re happy with your life. That’s a good thing,” he said, squeezing her hands before releasing them in order to uncork a bottle of Chianti.

“People cry tears of joy, too.” She accepted a filled glass from him. “Maybe I don’t have enough to be happy about?”

“In that case, let’s make a toast.” He tapped his glass against hers. “For the time we have left together, let’s be happy.”

“I’ll drink to that.” She downed the robust wine in five gulps, needing the alcohol hit to shock her out of this emotional overload.

“Hey, slow down. That’s powerful stuff.”

She pointed at his half-filled glass. “Then you should drink faster, so I can take advantage of you.”

Rather than firing back a flirty quip as she expected, he lowered his glass and placed it on the picnic basket tray. “You do that a lot, don’t you?”

Confused, she said, “Drink?”

“Try to deflect your feelings by focusing on sex.”

Yowza. How did he do that? He barely knew her, yet he was more intuitive than most people in her life.

“You said we should be happy, and sex with you makes me happy,” she said, forcing a provocative smile and hoping he’d buy her deflection. “What’s wrong with that?”

She waited an eternity for his answer, before he finally nodded. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing.”

He plucked the empty wineglass out of her hands and placed it next to his. “Time for a swim.”

Relieved he hadn’t pushed her for answers she’d rather not give, Zoe allowed Dom to tug her to her feet, his solemn gaze never leaving hers. His arm slid around her waist, anchoring her, while his other hand slid up her back to snag the tag on her zipper. With infinite slowness he lowered it, the rasping of metal teeth the only sound mingling with her quickened breathing.