Worth the Challenge (12 page)

Most people were visual, first and foremost. She noticed scents—couldn’t
not
notice them. When she was younger, she believed it a curse.

Sometimes, secretly, she still did.

“I’m not making fun.” She turned at the sound of his voice, caught him studying her even though he really should have his eyes on the road. “I find you rather…fascinating.”

Her skin warmed. Did he really? No man had ever called her fascinating before.

“You’re a true scientist,” he continued, returning his gaze to the road. “Analyzing each and every scent that hits you, whether it’s good or bad.” He rolled his window down and leaned his head out, nose pointed upward as he sniffed. “Now me? I smell nothing but hot asphalt and car exhaust.”

“What a shame.” She smiled and shook her head. “The ocean is close. I can smell it.”

Rhett nodded. “We’ll drive over this pass and it’ll appear.”

“And all the flowers. The island is laden with them.” She cocked her head to the right. “That hillside is covered.”

He glanced toward the colorful tangle of blooming bushes that lined the hill. “This is perfect.” Excitement filled his voice. “Exactly what I want. The various scents that overrun the Hawaiian Islands, and not the common ones like we discussed either. I think coconut and pineapple smell fine, just like the next person, but they aren’t the only fragrance of the tropics.”

The car crested the hill and as Rhett promised, the Pacific Ocean appeared, spread out before them like a never-ending blue blanket. Ella stared at it, transfixed. The rich green of the rolling hills, the calm sea, the intense blue sky—it was a saturation of vibrant colors that stole her breath.

“It’s lovely,” she murmured.

His quick, warm smile was his answer and they remained quiet for the duration of the ride. Ella preferred it that way, wanting to drink in the sights and sounds and of course, the smells. He soon turned off the main road, their vehicle the only one on what appeared to be a newly asphalted drive. It twisted and turned, drawing closer and closer to the ocean until finally a sprawling resort appeared in the distance.

A discreet wooden sign told her she looked upon the Bancroft Maui Luxury Resort. She’d heard of the Bancroft hotel chain before, knew it as one of the most exclusive—and expensive—hotels in the world.

And they were about to stay at one.

Rhett stopped the car in front of the entrance, where they were greeted by a team of courteous employees. They were quickly escorted into the spacious lobby of the hotel, Hawaiian music playing low in the background, accompanied by the wind rustling through the palm trees swaying just outside.

“We’re sharing a suite,” Rhett informed her only moments later, clutching a key in his hand. “We’ll drive to it. They’re delivering our luggage now.”

Ella frowned. “We’re sharing a suite?”
Oh, that can’t be good.
Staying in such close quarters with Rhett, how would she be able to withstand him?

“Nothing nefarious in my intentions, I promise. And it’s not really a suite.” He grinned. She was impressed he used the word nefarious—such an old-fashioned word. “It’s pointless for me to stay in a four-thousand-square-foot villa all by myself. Trust me, we won’t get in each other’s way.”

She didn’t answer, decided instead to concentrate on her opulent surroundings. The view of the ocean was stunning, the resort grounds like a tropical paradise. If there were guests here, she didn’t hear or see them. Everything was discreet, gorgeous and bought and paid for with a tremendous amount of money.

Glancing down at herself, she was thankful yet again for Tessa taking her shopping. She wore a long turquoise-colored sundress and strappy, pale gold wedge sandals, simple gold hoops in her ears and a big pair of black sunglasses perched on her nose. All of it picked out by Tessa, who’d texted her early in the morning asking what she planned to wear on the flight.

If she could take away anything from this experience at Worth Luxury, she could at least cherish these few moments she felt like Tessa Worth was her friend.

Oh, and the experience. She needed the experience desperately if she wanted to get far in the industry. That she allowed silly sentiment to take precedence over her career aspirations was…foolish.

They took the car to the villa, which sat on the far end of the property, on a low cliff close to the water’s edge. She followed Rhett to the door, murmuring thank you when he held it open for her. Tried her best to act nonchalant, staying in such an extravagant place, but it was hard considering it was over twice the size of the house she shared with her father.

And cost ten times as much, she was sure.

“Which room do you prefer?” Rhett called as he wandered down the hall, peeking inside each doorway, sizing everything up.

Ella remained in the living room, thankful she had dark glasses on so he couldn’t see her wide-eyed wonder. “I don’t care.” She should probably ask for the room farthest from his, but that would be rude.

Rhett reappeared in the living room, all easy, casual elegance in his jeans and subtle Hawaiian-print shirt that emphasized the broadness of his shoulders. He was built to perfection. If she saw him in swim trunks and nothing else, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to handle it. “I picked a room for you. I’ll make sure your luggage is left there.”

She shrugged. “That’s fine.” The man had impeccable taste and gracious manners. She wasn’t worried. “Listen, may I ask you a question?”

His brows furrowed, creases formed on his forehead, he frowned so hard. “Sure. What’s up?” His easy tone didn’t hide the edge lurking just beneath the surface.

He didn’t like to be questioned. In fact, he seemed to be rather closed-off, which was a shame, because she’d love to know more about him and his family, the business, the dynamics between them all.

But it was none of her business.

Nibbling on her lower lip, she decided to make her request. The one she’d been planning to make since last night. “I’d like to walk around the resort for a bit on my own. Do you mind?” She offered him a smile, trying to ease any discomfort he might have. “I want to get a sense of the place, maybe walk down to the beach and watch the waves for a bit. It’ll help open up my mind and senses.”

“Sounds rather mystical.” He sounded amused, but there wasn’t any cruelty behind his words.

He wasn’t making fun, which she appreciated. “A perfumer is a true juxtaposition. We’re chemists, dreamers, artists…” All of those things and more. She’d always felt so odd, especially since she was so sensitive to stimuli. Sometimes things, situations, became too overwhelming for her to deal with.

Such as being in close proximity of Rhett. Talk about being over-stimulated…

“You’ll have to share with me your process.” She met his gaze at that remark. Was he serious? Most people didn’t care. And those who did ask usually grew bored real quick. “I mean, I’ve done my research, I know what goes into creating a marketable scent.”

She waved a hand, slightly offended. Really, what did he know? A few marketing meetings, a bit of research, conversations with a variety of perfumers, assessing, judging and now he
knew?
“You talk of the promotion part of it. The business part. There’s much more to it than that.”

“Well.” He straightened, looking vaguely insulted. “Perhaps you’ll let me in on the magical side one day.”

A little smile curled her lips. “If you’re lucky.”

She was unexpectedly sassy and hell if that little hint of attitude didn’t turn him on. He’d tried his best to ignore her on the plane, diving headfirst into work, keeping his eyes focused on the laptop screen and not her. Sitting across from him, her pretty legs crossed and giving him a flash of ankle and shin, the teasing glimpse made him sweat.

Her shin and ankle, for the love of God. He was a boob man, an ass man. The sort of man who used to ask women to flash him their tits and they would do so willingly. Flash their chests, lift their skirts, it had all been so easy.
 

And now that he reflected on his past, it had been so empty.

He’d done a one-eighty because he knew it was the right thing to do. And he was still tempted—even more so, since she was like the forbidden fruit. Either Gabriella Durand had been sent by the devil himself to lure him back to the dark side or it was already too late.

Rhett was going straight to hell and there was no turning back.

Misery coursing through him, he watched as she walked down to the beach, her steps careful, her hair billowing all around her with the breeze. The dress she wore exposed an inordinate amount of skin compared to what she usually wore, and all of that pretty, creamy skin was on flagrant display. Waiting for the intense sun to char it to a bright red color, which he knew would be painful.

He was obsessed with her. Couldn’t get her out of his head, couldn’t stop wondering what it might be like, to really kiss her. Take her hand and lead her to his room. Strip that dress right off her and see her naked. What a sight that would be, those long legs, rounded hips and her perfect breasts. He wondered what color her nipples were.

Damn. He was getting hard just thinking about it.

Going to the sliding glass door, he opened it and walked out onto the deck. He would’ve called out a warning to her, ask if she was wearing any sunscreen, but she was too far away and besides, the wind would probably carry it in the opposite direction.

So he waited. For a woman, something he never did. But Gabriella was making him do lots of things he never did. And the more time he spent with her, the more closed up and mysterious she seemed to be.

Which brought on the obsessive thoughts. He wanted to learn more, especially about the perfumer process. Was it wrong that he wanted to walk beside her, listen to her talk, have her explain things to him. He knew it was unusual, their approach to the product. Hardly any luxury brand had an in-house perfumer anymore and the owners/executives definitely didn’t shadow the perfumer while she was hard at work. A scent tour such as the one they were going on was usually heralded by the marketing team.

Hunter had fought with Alex when the decision had been made. Not that Rhett was supposed to know about it, but he did. The marketing team should’ve been in charge of the perfume creation, Hunter had pointed out. He wanted to send in his wife Gracie to do the job.

Alex had refused Hunter’s suggestion. His mind had already been made up. That Alex showed that much faith in Rhett, that much belief in him, made him reluctant to disappoint.

But they were on an island for the next few days. Together, in close proximity, working together, hell, practically living together. They were sharing a slice of island paradise and he was supposed to pretend she didn’t interest him? That he had no intentions beyond a working relationship?

What happened on Maui could stay on Maui. Yeah, yeah, he knew he was using the term for the wrong location but it was apt. He knew she was attracted to him. Would she be interested or would she refuse him?

There was only one way to find out.

Grim, he walked back into the house, pulling his phone out of his pocket. He opened up his contacts and hit one of the first ones.

“Already calling me? Aren’t you supposed to be out touring the island?” Alex asked the moment he answered.

“She, uh, wanted to be alone for a bit.”

Alex chuckled. “Don’t tell me you offended her already.”

“Of course not.” They automatically thought it was his fault, every single time. “This is part of her process.”

“Her process, huh? Listen, we’ve contemplated adding a scent line for years but never made the commitment. I’ve spoken with my fair share of perfumers, including her father. Let me tell you, they can be an—odd bunch.”

“It’s both a creative and scientific process, you know.”

“Right. That’s what makes them so strange. They’re brilliant, yet their heads are buried in the clouds. It’s all about art and heat and green and
sillage.
”

Rhett frowned. “What’s
sillage
?”

“It’s the smell that lingers long after a person has left the room. That lasting bit of scent that reminds you someone has been there.” It was Alex’s turn to chuckle. “That’s the one thing I learned from Michel Durand. About six years ago we met, when we were considering creating a perfume back then, and he gave me an extensive lesson on
sillage
. It stuck.”

“Apparently.”

“Let her work through her process, her method, whatever she wants to call it, and let yourself take it all in. Learn from her. Make sure she’s not stroking you and giving you a line of B.S. though.”

Rhett winced. He wished his brother hadn’t used the word stroking. It evoked all sorts of images. Most of them involved Ella’s slender, delicate fingers wrapped around his…

“And most importantly, express to her exactly what you want out of this fragrance,” Alex continued. “How important it is to get it right. It’s a representation of Worth Luxury. It has to not only appeal to the masses but it needs that certain hint of wealth and affluence. Glamour and elegance, sophistication and youth, experience and sexuality, all of it needs to be in that scent.”

Trepidation slithered down his spine. “Your expectations are pretty high.”