Worth the Challenge (6 page)

“You like it?” His voice was tight, as was his expression.

“Yes,” she practically purred, forking up another bite. A bit of cream stuck to the corner of her mouth and she darted out her tongue, licking it away. Caught sight of Rhett’s heated gaze locked on her mouth.

The breath left her body when she saw that look. His lids were lowered, but they didn’t disguise the desire she saw flaring in his eyes. Maybe this weird is-it-a-date/are-we-attracted-to-each-other thing she was feeling wasn’t so off after all.

Reaching for her virtually untouched glass of water, she took a few swallows, then waved her fork in Rhett’s direction. “Have some. There’s no way I can finish it.”

“Are you sure? You seem to be—enjoying it.” He practically choked out the last two words, and her cheeks heated at the sexual undertones.

“I
am
enjoying it. But I’d rather we share,” she suggested softly. “I don’t want to be a complete pig.”

“You couldn’t be a pig if you tried,” he drawled, stabbing his fork into the cheesecake and bringing a bite to his mouth.

His beautiful, finely sculpted mouth, she might add. She watched in breathless fascination as he wrapped his lips around the tines of the fork, heard the little murmur of approval when he tasted the creamy dessert. Her body responded instantly to that discreet sound. Nipples hard, skin tingling, she swallowed against the sudden lump in her throat.
 

“Good?” she asked, then cleared her throat.

“Delicious,” he murmured once he swallowed. He pointed his empty fork at her. “Have another bite.”

It was seduction over shared cheesecake, that was all she could think. Their murmured noises of pleasure, the way he would look at her, their knees bumping into each other beneath the table. Talks of contracts and legal terms were long forgotten, and she found herself staring at his too-handsome face, wondering what sort of kisser he was.

Probably a really exceptional one, she thought dreamily as she dragged her fork through the bits of leftover cheesecake stuck to the plate. Probably the type who would start out slow, cupping her face with gentle fingers, brushing his lips against hers before he darted his tongue out for a teasing, tempting lick…

The waiter came and cleared the rest of their plates, offering the check to Rhett with a subtle slide across the table. He pulled his black American Express card from the sleek leather wallet—made by Worth—and handed it to the waiter, who took it with an eager nod and promise to be right back.

She admired his ability to be so commanding with such little effort. Quite frankly, he reeked of it. Everything about him was wealthy perfection, from the perfectly cut hair to the very expensive clothes. Not to mention his exquisite good looks…

“We’d like for you to meet with us tomorrow at Worth. My brothers and I,” he added when she frowned. “Alex wants to finalize everything before we move on to the next step. Plus, we have the brief to give you.”

Oh. Talk about men who reeked of power and wealth. Meeting with all three of the Worth brothers at once was going to be a lesson in learning how to move past intimidation. “And what exactly is the next step?”

“I haven’t told you. My apologies.” He shook his head, looking thoroughly disgusted with himself. “Well, my plans are to go to Hawaii—Maui specifically. Do a scent tour of the island, if you will.”

Her father had done many scent tours as had she. “I’ve never been to the Hawaiian Islands.”

“Really? That surprises me.”

It surprised her too. “I’ve been to many tropical locations. The Caribbean, Jamaica, Turks and Caicos, but we never went to Hawaii. So you’re going for a tropical scent?” She knew this, she’d looked over the brief they’d sent her father accompanied by the contracts.

“Tropical elegance, we hope. Alex came up with that description. So many island-based scents are cheap versions of what we
think
it should smell like. Piña coladas, coconut, pineapples. You know what I mean?”

“I do.” She’d never been a fan of tropical scents and now she was being asked to create one.

A challenge if she ever heard it.

“I don’t want any of that shit. Pardon,” he added quickly, making her smile. “When you get off the plane on any of the Hawaiian Islands, the first thing you notice is the scent. It’s so heavy in the air, a mixture of the salty ocean breezes, the plumeria flowers on the trees and I don’t know what else, but I want to capture that. I want
you
to capture it.”

Her head already buzzed with ideas but she kept her composure. She didn’t want to appear too excited. “Do you want the scent to be cool or hot?”

He frowned. “Excuse me?”

She waved a hand. “Scents have temperature. Most are balanced and I can control that. Make it warm like the sun or cool like an ocean breeze.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed a hand along his firm jaw. “I like the idea of both.”

“I can mix both.”

“I’m sure you can.”

How did those words sound so…sexual when really it was a simple sentence? She decided it best to change the subject. “I can’t wait to go to Maui. When do we leave?”

“Monday.” Rhett made a face, as if afraid of her reaction.

“But that’s in…” It was Thursday night. He was giving her virtually no time to get anything together. Make arrangements for her dad.

“I know, and I’m sorry. But we have to get a move on with this project.” He smiled apologetically. “Since it was delayed and all.”

The unspoken words hung heavy between them. Delayed by her father’s avoidance tactics, though she knew Rhett would never say it, he was far too polite, but it was the truth. And for whatever twisted reason, she couldn’t help but feel some responsibility for that.

“Monday won’t be a problem,” she said with a slight nod. “You can count on me to be ready to leave first thing.”

The waiter reappeared with Rhett’s credit card and the sales slip. He signed it with a flourish, handed over the pen to the waiter, who bobbed his head at the both of them before he hurried away, swallowed up by the crowded restaurant.

“I appreciate your willingness,” he said once he’d shoved his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans. “I hope you don’t mind spending a few days with me on Maui.”

Lord help her, she could never admit the idea of spending any amount of days with Rhett Worth on a tropical island was vastly appealing.

“I don’t mind,” she murmured.

“Good.” He smiled that devilish smile, the one that lit his eyes and struck terror in her heart, and stood. “I’ll escort you back to the hotel.”

“That’s not necessary,” she started but he cut her off.

“It’s the least I can do.”

Grabbing her glass of wine, she swallowed it down, wincing when she felt the alcohol race through her veins. She stood on wobbly legs and followed him through the restaurant toward the entrance, caught sight of more than one woman shooting an admiring glance in Rhett’s direction as he passed.

How she wished she could lay claim on him, but she had no right. And he didn’t think of her that way, what with them about to work so closely together.

But then she remembered the heated looks, the seductive tones, the cheesecake…

Her cheeks flamed with embarrassment. Cheesecake! She’d really lost her mind if she thought they could have a pretend moment over a dessert. She needed a good night’s rest. Clearly she was crazy.

They emerged outside into the warm summer night, the cars whizzing by on the busy street before them, the insistent honks and screeching brakes loud. It was late, they’d been in the restaurant for hours, and nary a lingering taxi was in sight.

“Damn,” he muttered as they stood side by side on the curb, watching the cars pass. The occasional taxi would speed by, service lights off and she swore she heard him utter an even stronger curse. “This will take forever.”

“We can walk,” she suggested.

He sent her a measured look. “You must be kidding.”

“Not really. I’m not wearing heels.” She lifted her foot to show off the practical—and very comfortable—sandal she wore. “How bad can it be? I can handle it.”

“We’re a few miles away from the hotel.”

“I can do it if you can.”

There went that smile again, the one that sent electric zings straight to her weak and pitiful heart—and other, more intimate places. “Are you challenging me?” he asked.

“Maybe.” She lifted her chin, going for the defiant look.

“Well, game on then,” he said with relish. “And no complaints.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t complain,” she said cheerily.

Fifteen minutes later and Rhett knew Gabriella was dying to complain. She kept her mouth shut though, and trudged on like a good little soldier. He’d warned her that the walk would be long.

He’d done his part and he definitely hadn’t lied. It was taking forever to get there, hindered by Gabriella’s limping and occasional whimper. He’d carry her if he could, but she’d probably have slapped him if he attempted it.

And damn if he wasn’t tempted…

The walk was good. The distance gave him time to contemplate what the hell happened over dinner.

Had she felt it? That undeniable, mysterious attraction simmering between them every time they looked at each other? He certainly had, watched it intensify throughout the night until dessert, when it really started ratcheting up.

He’d never thought eating a shared piece of cheesecake could be a prelude to foreplay, but Gabriella more than proved him wrong.

“Doing all right?” he couldn’t resist asking. Was just waiting for her to finally give in and confess the walk was killing her.

But she surprised him yet again. “I’m fine.” The haughty princess voice held a trembling edge of misery and he knew she was probably hurting.

She just refused to admit it.

“Feel like jogging?” Now he was being an ass, but he couldn’t help it.

“You must be kidding me,” she muttered, clearly irritated.

He laughed. “Just admit it. Your feet are killing you.”

“It’s not my feet, it’s my legs.” He glanced back at her, saw the way she bit her lip as if she regretted the admission. Pausing, he waited for her to catch up to him. “I thought I was in better shape. Clearly I’m not.”

She looked in fantastic shape to him he wanted to say, but held it in. The flirtation needed to stop. He needed to set the following mantra on repeat in his head.

Just business. Just business. Just business.

Instead, he could only concentrate on the length of her legs, the dip of her waist, the way the fabric of her dress clung to her breasts. Her hair was a little wild from the humidity in the air and her skin positively glowed.

Just looking at her and he wanted to haul her into his arms and kiss her until she was breathless—until the both of them were breathless. Completely inappropriate but there it was.

And he didn’t know how to handle it. He wasn’t the cool, calm Alex. And he wasn’t the persuasive, determined Hunter, either. They’d know how to deal with this sort of situation. They wouldn’t fuck it up and make a mess of it.

Dumbass. They met their wives at work. They both fooled around with them for months on the sly. And they were both crazy enough to get their women pregnant, for the love of God.

He was beating himself up for nothing. How could they give him grief when they both did the very thing he was trying to resist? Yet he still didn’t want to take it any further. It was dangerous. It was crazy.

It was also incredibly tempting.

“I give up.” She threw her hands in the air in surrender. “You’re right. Can we get a taxi now?”

“Wait a minute. What did you say?”

She rolled her eyes. He liked how good-natured she was when he teased her. Most women told him to knock it off or got straight-up pissed at him. “You heard me. I said you were
right.
”

Ah, she knew just how to feed his ego. Good girl. “Let’s get that taxi you so desperately need.” He went to the curb and waved his hand. Luckily, a cab pulled right over.

Ella hurried toward the taxi in obvious relief, her soft sigh of gratitude going straight to his dick. Swallowing hard, he tried to keep his gaze off her glorious backside as she climbed into the backseat of the cab.

But his eyes clearly had a mind of their own, zeroing in on the delectable curve with expert precision. He followed behind her reluctantly, afraid of what might happen once they got inside the close confines of the car. Again.

He was asking for trouble. And she was drunk, in pain and adorable.

In other words, she was terribly hard to resist.

“Be strong,” he muttered under his breath as he climbed into the car.

“Did you say something?”

Rhett met her gaze. Her brows drawn, her mouth pursed, she looked perplexed. Cute.

“Wasn’t me.” He smiled grimly and yanked the door shut. “Warwick Hotel,” he told the driver who nodded in reply and pulled out into traffic.

“Thank you for not giving me a bunch of grief,” she said, her voice solemn. “And for getting the taxi so quickly.”