Weekend with the Tycoon (10 page)

Maybe because she was doing such a great job as his fake girlfriend she was losing her way. She was falling for the man she wanted him to be. She’d smiled and been charming all through dinner. She’d encouraged his toast, and entertained his younger brother all through the meal. She’d felt like she was really part of this event. She felt invested.

It had all started when they touched. Just thinking about his arm around her made her head swim again, and remembering their kiss made her stomach flip.

Here she was wrapped in a cocoon of luxury, in her own room of white comfort and dark wood, and yet all she could think of, all she wanted to think about, was the kiss she shared with Blake – and how he’d stopped it.

He felt the chemistry, he had to it was so strong the air around them became electric. And she felt his response during their kiss, she knew it. Why had he switched back into boss mode?

Stop daydreaming
.

Samantha was a woman of action. She just wished she knew what action to take.

Samantha finished in the bathroom. She had just slipped on her grey booties when she heard a light tap on the door. Catching her breath in excitement, she opened the door.

“Great you’re awake,” Blake said. “And ready to work,” he said, noticing the laptop in her hand.

“Reporting for duty, Sir,” Samantha grinned and mock saluted.

His eyes opened in surprise, but she thought she saw a hint of a smile touch his lips. She had to fight not to lean in close.

“Is this Outfit Three I should be noticing?”

“Oops, caught,” Samantha felt herself blush a little, but she brazened it out. “These are boyfriend jeans. A bit of a bonus, Raymond slipped in as a favor, but I doubt it was gratis.”

“Boyfriend jeans,” he repeated as if he’d never heard the phrase. “I should give you more of my jeans. They look much better on you.”

He froze.

Samantha caught her breath.

“Why don’t you ah…,” she broke off then tried again. “Get ready. I’ll go get us some coffee, and we can get to work. Where do you want to work?”

“Up here’s great. By the window.”

“On the floor?”

“I am a circus yogi.”

Samantha laughed. “I’ll leave you to it then. Remember. Be one with your breath.”

She left her laptop on the bed and lightly ran down the stairs.

*

Blake couldn’t help
himself. He walked out into the hall so he could watch her leave. He loved the way she moved, so light and quick. Graceful.

Fake date. Not real. Employee. He reminded himself, stripping off his clothes so he could take a shower. A very cold shower, but a quick one. He had work to do. He rushed, but even he had to admit to himself that it was because he wanted to see Samantha again. She had smelled of flowers and sea air, and it had pierced him on a level he didn’t even know he had. And the simple jeans and T-shirt. Why had he ordered such formal clothes from Andrea’s? He wished he could just say to hell with the wedding and….

He turned off the shower and realized he hadn’t brought his clothes in with him. Awkward. She really made him lose his head. He quickly shaved and brushed his teeth, hoping to beat her back, but imaging how he would feel if the situation were reversed, and she walked into the room with just a towel, made it difficult to leave the room as quickly as he’d planned as his anatomy was not cooperating.

When he opened the door, she was sitting on the floor at the foot of the bed. Her long legs were stretched out in front of her. She was gorgeous.

“Ready to get to work?” she asked. “Oh,” she spotted him with just the towel wrapped around his lean waist. “Not quite.”

“The staff is efficient as ever,” he said drily. “You are back more quickly than I anticipated.”

Blake went to the armoire, quickly picked some clothes and hurried back to the bathroom to get dressed.

“How do you take your coffee?” She asked as he reemerged.

With you
.

“Black.”

All he could think about was grabbing her and throwing her on the bed, kissing her everywhere. “What are you working on?”

“My secret project. Can I tell you about it? I’ve figured out how we can utilize our DNA testing protocols direct to consumer. It’s the new hottest thing, Blake, and I really think we could be at the forefront,” Samantha said, her enthusiasm sparkling all over her face.

“Tell me more,” Blake said and perched on the corner of the bed. He was certain if he sat down next to her on the floor, he wouldn’t be able to keep his mind on her presentation.

“Well, Mr. Putnam, here’s how it would work. You, Mr. Consumer, would start by ordering your DNA kit from our online portal,” Samantha said. She turned her computer to face him and revealed a slide that showed him the branding she’d developed as well as a simple, consumer-friendly interface. Blake was accustomed to the scientific, business applications of his model – he’d never considered direct to consumer.

“Then, we’d ship them a really cool DNA collection kit. They spit into it, return it to us in the prepaid package and we reveal the results online. We can have pages of enlightening information about where the individual came from, all the different ancestry found. It could be revolutionary. The next step will be the medical side of DNA testing. Giving consumers access to their risk of diseases like cancer, diabetes, Parkinson’s and the like. Right now, it looks like the FDA is blocking that application from happening, unfortunately. Shouldn’t each person have the right to know their genetically programmed future and maybe be able to do something about it?”

Blake was stunned. Yes, of course. This was the way to close the Daycon deal, and much, much more. He’d been so focused on the business to business aspects of genetics, within the scientific community. He’d been blind to the true empowerment opportunities. Samantha was brilliant, and beautiful. It took every ounce of control to stay perched on the side of the bed. He wanted to reach down and pull her to him.

“How long have you been working on this, Samantha?” Blake asked. He spoke slowly, trying to keep control.

“Well, don’t worry, it was during weekends and weekdays after work. I didn’t slack on any of my other projects. It’s just that I think this could be transformative for us,” Samantha said. “I’ve always been into ancestry. I told you, I’m a history buff.”

Blake allowed a smile to cross his face, and Samantha smiled in return.

“So?” she said.

“Samantha, I love it. Can we share the new direction of Blake Genetics with Daycon?” Blake asked.

“Of course, oh my gosh!” Samantha said, jumping up and giving Blake a high-five. “You like it!”

“Like it? I think I’m beginning to love it!” Blake said as someone knocked on the door.

Samantha hurried over to open it, revealing Evalyn.

“Just making sure you are both awake. How was your night?” she asked, winking again.

Samantha blushed, so Blake answered, “Fine Mother. We’ll see you down at breakfast.”

“Sorry, she throws me off with those winks,” Samantha said, once Blake had closed the door.

You throw me off
, Blake thought. “Can I see the deck again before we go down for breakfast? I loved that presentation Samantha. Everything about it is perfect.”

Just like you.

*

Samantha glowed. Blake
loved the DNA project. During breakfast they’d sat next to each other at the kitchen table, talking about her project, Blake added ideas and expanded on the presentation even more. As far as work was concerned, they were clicking. And that was the most important thing, Samantha reminded herself. But Blake sure did look amazing in his navy shorts and white polo. The current between them pulsed stronger than ever, and she wondered how they’d be able to keep their relationship business only. She wanted that, right?

*

Evalyn had scheduled
the rehearsal for noon, to beat the afternoon heat, and to assure her sons would not stay up too late partying the night before as she’d told them all during the beach barbeque. But it was still hot and muggy. So there they were, assembled in the front row of white folding chairs, in the too-bright sunshine, grumpy, just trying to make it through and onto the next event. Blake included. He was pretending to listen to what Denton was saying, but was actually tuning everything out.

“Everyone, please, I just need your attention for a brief moment,” screamed the tiny brunette woman standing just outside the gazebo. Between the wind, the waves, and the Putnams, nobody could hear a word she was saying. The Putnams and the wedding party had gathered on the lawn in front of the Melrose Inn, another gorgeous replica of a southern plantation home complete with a rose garden and the white ocean-front gazebo where Avery would be married the next day.

Suddenly a man pulled up in a golf cart. He jumped out of the cart and held a bullhorn up to his lips.

“Hey, y’all listen up. My name is Steve and I’m the general manager of the club. If you need anything, come see me. But not until you give this lady the attention she deserves,” Steve said, finishing his bullhorn aided speech.

“Really, a bullhorn?” Blake said loudly, but was quickly shushed by the rest of the wedding party.

“Let’s just get through this,” Denton mumbled. “My hangover needs to get this whole thing we’re doing now over with.”

Blake smiled, noting his little brother had no idea what he was saying, and then resumed searching the crowd again for Samantha.
Sure, she doesn’t have a role in this,
he reasoned,
but she should at least show up.

She’d excused herself after breakfast, and told him she’d see him at the rehearsal. Once the wedding party had finally settled into the folding chairs arranged on the lawn, Blake could finally see Samantha standing to the side of the gazebo. She looked beautiful, yet all she was wearing were khaki shorts, sandals and a white cotton top. She looked better than any woman here.

Control, he reminded himself, and tried to focus on the wedding planner’s directions. But he couldn’t hear a word the woman was saying. The wind was howling off the sound, carrying her words away with it.

This was torture. All of it. He just needed to get over Samantha. He was thinking about her too much. Last night was a mistake, an alcohol fueled moment that would never happen again. They were a perfect business team. That was all. Well, it wasn’t all, but it needed to be enough.

*