“We’re cleared for takeoff, Mr. Duke.”
“Thanks, Pamela.”
As the older flight attendant disappeared behind the partition that separated the passenger compartment from the galley, Adam glanced at Trish sitting next to him. Her face was pale but still lovely. She wore a severe navy business suit with a plain white blouse, yet still managed to appear feminine and sexy. His fingers itched to peel that suit off her as soon as humanly possible. “All buckled up, Trish?”
“Um…” She rechecked the buckle she’d checked six or eight times already. “Yes.”
“Good.” He glanced at his watch. “We should be there in an hour or so. We can use the time now to discuss the opening-night situation. Did you bring your notes?”
“Yes.” She licked her lips as the jet engines began to roar and the powerful Gulfstream G650 moved into position on the runway. “But if you don’t mind, I need a minute or two.”
“Why? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” she said, closing her eyes. “I just need a minute.”
She gripped the armrests tightly as the jet picked up speed.
“I thought you weren’t afraid of flying,” he said.
Her jaw clenched. “Not afraid, just alert.”
“If you were any more alert, you’d be spinning.”
“My seat belt’s on,” she pointed out. “I won’t spin very far.”
He leaned in and whispered. “I hope not. I need you right here next to me.”
Her eyes sprang open and she glared at him. “Are you trying to distract me?”
“Maybe. Is it working?”
She closed her eyes and settled back. “No.”
“I could try harder,” he said softly.
“Please don’t,” she murmured, biting her lower lip. “I’m trying to concentrate.”
“On what? Keeping the plane up?”
“Yes,” she admitted. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” he said as he leaned his head back against the headrest. “In fact, I appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome,” Trish said. Her eyes remained closed but a ghost of a smile formed on her lips.
Without thinking, Adam touched her hand to gauge how tense she really was. She immediately grabbed hold of his hand and held on for dear life.
He watched her face as the luxurious private jet soared to cruising altitude. Her demeanor remained serene but her grip on his hand grew more taut until he thought she might cut off the circulation to his fingers.
Then she licked her lips again and he felt his throat grow dry as his stomach tightened in a knot of arousal. He wondered if she would bring this same level of focus to their lovemaking. When he slipped inside her, would she grip him so tightly, he wouldn’t know where he left off and she began? Would she call out his name as she reached her peak? Would her eyes flutter closed or would she watch him watching her as they both flew over the edge? He would have his answer soon, of that he had no doubt.
A few minutes later, Adam saw Pamela, the flight attendant, leave her seat. He took it as an indication that the plane had leveled off enough that they were free to move around.
“You can open your eyes now,” he said. “Mission accomplished.”
She blinked her eyes open and glanced around, then abruptly released his hand. When she realized he was staring at her, she sighed. “I suppose you think I’m nuts.”
He smiled indulgently as he unlatched his seat belt. “Not at all.”
“Right,” she said acerbically, then muttered, “I’m not sure why you needed me to come along anyway.”
She might not have seen the point of her presence here today, but Adam did. The point was seduction. He intended to keep her very close to him from now on. He was on a mission of his own and there was no doubt whether he would accomplish it or not. She would be his. His for as long as he desired her. Eventually he would let her know he’d guessed her true intentions and he’d send his sexy gold digger packing.
For now, he sat back in the streamlined chair and assumed a relaxed pose.
“I’ll need you to take notes as we survey the problem areas of the parking structure. We’ll have to turn those notes into a joint agreement with the lawyers. But I also want your point of view on things in general. You haven’t been to the resort so I’d like to hear your first impressions of everything you see.”
She thought about that for a moment, then nodded. “I’ll do my best.”
“I expect nothing less.”
She smiled hesitantly. “Thank you.”
Pamela arrived with a basket of muffins and croissants with butter and jam, then poured coffee and juice.
He watched Trish choose a flaky croissant, then slather it in butter and jam.
“I told you to order whatever you wanted,” he said. “They must have some low-fat frittata thing with gloppy yogurt, or maybe some flavor-free granola? We could ask.”
She had the good grace to laugh. “No, I told them I’d have whatever you were having.”
“I’m in shock,” he admitted, then stared at the rich chocolate croissant on his plate. “This stuff probably isn’t the healthiest choice, but it’s the easiest, and they taste great.”
“We all have to indulge once in a while,” she said, then took a bite of the croissant and almost moaned in delight. “Oh, it’s so good.”
He couldn’t look away. She happily ate the entire pastry, savoring each little morsel on her plate. When he caught her licking a drop of jam off her finger, it took every last ounce of willpower he had to maintain self-control and not start licking her fingers himself.
Trish, meanwhile, seemed completely unaware of his precarious state. How was that possible? How could someone who’d agreed to play a part in his mother’s matchmaking game be so oblivious to the effect she was having on him?
The only explanation was that she knew exactly what she was doing. It was all an act. Licking jam off her fingers, gripping his hand earlier-it was all part of the game. And if she wanted to play games, he was all for it. But he was the one who would decide precisely what game they’d play.
And the name of this game was hardball.
After twenty minutes of breakfast and business talk, the dishes were cleared and Trish excused herself. She made her way to the airplane’s compact bathroom, where she washed her hands, then stared at herself in the mirror.
“What is wrong with you?” she whispered viciously. “Have you gone insane?” She splashed some water in her face to clear her brain before freshening her lipstick. She still couldn’t believe she’d grabbed hold of Adam’s hand earlier. Yes, she was a nervous flyer, but that was no excuse. He was her boss, for goodness’ sake, as well as her sworn enemy.
But it had felt so comfortable and seemed so right to hold on to him. And he didn’t appear to have minded at all. In fact, he’d been the one to touch her first, hadn’t he? So it wasn’t really her fault, was it?
“I don’t care who started it,” she berated herself, “There will be no more holding hands with the boss.”
She needed to maintain some sense of dignity, after all. She still had to get through the day with him, not to mention the trip back home. What would she do for an encore on that flight? Kiss him?
“Oh, don’t even go there.”
But it was too late. She’d been thinking about it for days, wondering what it would be like to kiss him. How it would feel to be held and touched and made love to by him. Her thighs tingled at the image she’d conjured up and the desire threatened to overwhelm her.
She was in big trouble.
She exhaled heavily, knowing she had to shake those thoughts away. If she fell for Adam Duke, she wouldn’t be able to live with the consequences. She wouldn’t be able to face Mrs. Collins or Sam Sutter, the bike store owner, or the Mauberts or any of the others, having broken her vow to avenge their pain. She needed to remember their faces, remember her goal, her mission.
Shoring up her nerves, she fluffed her hair and straightened her suit jacket, then made her way back to her seat.
Adam had opened his briefcase while she was gone and was looking over some sort of legal document.
As she sat down, he looked up and shook his head. “I’m reading the specs and they’re all correct. The ADA parameters are all spelled out. So why didn’t the construction company get it right?”
“Will you consider a lawsuit?” she asked.
He laughed without humor. “We can’t exactly sue a company that we own.”
She blinked. “You own Parameter Construction?”
“Yeah.” He didn’t look happy. “Bought ’em last year, along with a few other small companies. We’re still working out the kinks.”
“Oh. Well, that’s a problem, but maybe it won’t be as bad as you think.”
He shrugged. “We’ll know soon enough. No matter what needs to be done, I refuse to delay the opening. The resort is booked to capacity for the entire season. I won’t put that in jeopardy.”
“Absolutely not,” she said indignantly. “They’ll just have to make it happen.”
“Exactly,” he said, then leaned a little closer to add, “I admire your passion.”
It was a simple compliment, so why was she suddenly tongue-tied? Did he mean it as a double entendre or was it just her wild imagination again? When he said passion, did he mean passion? Or did he simply appreciate her enthusiasm for the work? Did it matter? And could she be a bigger dolt? She realized that he was staring again and scrambled desperately to collect her wits back from wherever they’d scattered off to.
“Anyone can see it’s the right thing to do,” she said weakly.
“Not necessarily,” he said, tapping the document. “Some people don’t have a problem cutting corners.”
“Please fasten your seat belts, Mr. Duke, Ms. James,” Pamela said. “We’re beginning our descent and should be landing shortly.”
Trish’s nerves began to race in a whole new direction as she fumbled for the seat belt.
“All buckled up?” he asked, shoving the document back into his briefcase.
“I’m getting there,” she said, annoyed to hear the tension in her own voice. Finally, she managed to connect the belt securely around her waist.
Without another word, Adam took her hand in his. The movement pulled her up close to his warm, solid shoulder and her fears gave way to heated cravings. She tried to concentrate on breathing, deeply, evenly, but his strong, masculine scent got in the way. It clouded her mind and turned her thoughts to mush. When he began to stroke her hand softly with his thumb in an apparent effort to calm her, Trish almost melted into a puddle right then and there.
The plane cleared the mountain, then leveled off as it descended toward the Fantasy Mountain airstrip. It could hardly be called an airport, although that was the Dukes’ eventual plan for it.
Adam glanced over at Trish and noticed that she’d turned a delicate shade of green. It must’ve been that sharp bank over the last mountain range that did her in. Was she going to be ill? She had a death grip on his hand and was rubbing her stomach with her free hand. She seemed to be trying to swallow over and over, probably to keep her ears from popping.
A moment ago, a strange protective instinct had made him take hold of her hand in an attempt to reassure her that everything would be okay. Watching her now, he had an irresistible urge to pull her onto his lap, cradle her in his arms and soothe away her fears. But he resisted and the moment passed.
It wasn’t his job to comfort her. Yes, it bothered him that she seemed to be suffering, but he had to keep in mind just why she was there in the first place.
Damn, she was the most unlikely gold digger he’d ever met. She should’ve been more sophisticated, more of a game player. She should’ve been the sort of woman who was used to flying off to exotic places and carrying on casual, flirtatious conversations with men. But she hardly seemed the type.
He wondered what Sally and Marjorie had promised her in exchange for her part in this charade. Besides Adam Duke, that is. Had they offered her money? A new car? A permanent job with the company?
But Adam knew his mother and the more he thought about it, the more certain he was that his mother would never try to buy off a woman with material goods. No, Mom would figure that marriage to her son would be a good enough lure for any woman.
And Trish had agreed. He supposed he should be flattered, but he wasn’t.
Whatever devil’s bargain she’d agreed to, she would ultimately fail. In the meantime, though, Adam was more than willing to play along. He would be lying if he said he only wanted to seduce her because of her part in Sally’s matchmaking game. No, Adam just plain wanted her. Wanted his hands on her lush curves. Wanted his mouth on her lips, her skin. He wanted to feel her all over, inside and out. It had been this way ever since the first day she walked into his office. And he would have her, all of her. Soon.
And that’s where the game would end.
Norman Thompson, the ADA lawyer, had a tendency to drone on and on.
“I’ve already told you that we’ll make the changes, Norm,” Bob Paxton said calmly. “Just give us your notes and cut the editorials.”
“Did you get that last measurement, Trish?” Adam said, crossing the narrow walkway to stand beside her.
“Yes, I’ve got it,” she murmured, grateful she’d brought a new legal pad with her on the trip. She’d filled almost every page. She was also grateful she’d borrowed Deb’s warm down jacket and thin, thermal gloves or she would’ve turned into a block of ice by now. Despite the sunny day, it was cold up here in the mountains and they’d been outside for almost five hours.
“Do you have anything more for us?” Adam asked the lawyer.
Thompson snorted in disgust. “Isn’t that enough?”
“Yes, it is,” Adam said easily. “Thank you for your input. We’ll send you a complete list of the changes we make, along with photographs of the completed work. I assume you’ll want to conduct a final survey of the grounds after the work is completed.”
“Absolutely,” he said.
“Good.” He glanced from Bob to Trish to the lawyer. “We’re finished here.”
“I suppose,” Thompson said, dropping his own notepad into his thin briefcase. “I’ll expect your report within the month.”
“You’ll get it next week,” Adam said briskly, holding out his hand. “Have a good day.”
“Well.” He shook Adam’s hand. “You do the same.”
They watched Thompson walk back to his car, then Bob turned to Adam. “Next week might be cutting it close, but we’ll aim for it.”
“I want it done,” Adam said. “If you have any problems with the crew, I want to hear about it immediately.”
“There won’t be any problems,” Bob said determinedly as he put his small, digital camera back in his pocket. “I’ll e-mail you the photos as soon as I’m back in my office. And I’ll find out exactly who was responsible for all the mistakes.”
“I know you will,” Adam said, shaking hands with the contractor. “Thanks, Bob.”
“It was great to meet you, Bob,” Trish said.
“Nice meeting you, too, Trish,” Bob said, shaking her hand. Then she and Adam watched him head back to the construction trailer parked on the periphery of the resort property.
“Let’s get up to the lodge,” Adam said, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her away from the parking structure. “It’s freezing out here.”
“I’m glad I’m not the only one who noticed,” Trish said, but now she wasn’t sure if her shivers were from the weather or from his touch.
As he guided her along the bark-covered shortcut to the lodge, Adam pointed out the beginnings of several trails to be used for cross-country skiing and snowshoeing once the snow began to fall. The downhill skiing trail was just a short hike away.
“It’s so beautiful,” Trish said, stopping to look in every direction.
“I think so,” Adam said gruffly, looking right at her.
Trish felt herself blushing and would’ve looked away, but how could she? It was as if he were a magnet and she were metal. His eyes were so blue and knowing, so aware of everything. Did he know what she was thinking? What she wanted?
Trish blinked. What was wrong with her? She still couldn’t believe she was here in this place with him. When she’d first seen that letter from the ADA lawyer, she wished she’d been the one to alert the man about the problems at the resort. It would’ve been sweet revenge indeed against Adam Duke. But after hearing Adam talk about the handicapped kids he’d known at the orphanage, she was glad she’d had nothing to do with it. It almost broke her heart to know Adam had spent part of his childhood so lonely and alone.
She was still determined to seek justice and closure. She owed that much to Grandma Anna and the others. But she wouldn’t do it on the painful memories of a lonely child living in an orphanage.
There was no sign of that childhood pain now as she stared at Adam and saw the stark hunger in his eyes. Then the starkness disappeared as Adam glanced around the trail.
“Serenity Lake is just beyond the main building,” he said, casually pointing over her shoulder as if they hadn’t just shared a special, lust-filled moment. “We’ll be able to see it from the lodge. In summer and fall, there’s boating, kayaking, canoeing, fishing, hiking, bird watching, mountain biking. We also offer yoga, croquet, tennis, golf and horseback riding.”
“Wow.”
He grimaced. “I sound like a travel agent, don’t I?”
She laughed. “Yes, you do. But I’m sold. This place is fantastic.”
Trish stared up at the magnificent Arts and Crafts-style resort that rose six stories up the side of the mountain. Fantasy was a perfect name for it. The stone and timber façade, dark wood gables and carved willow balconies offset the forest-green pitched roof, covered walkways and tall stone chimneys. The overall effect was stunning, rustic yet aristocratic.
“It’s amazing,” she said.
“Wait’ll you see the inside,” Adam said, grabbing her hand to take her up the wide plank stairs and through the impressive double-door entrance.
“It’s…” Trish slowly spun around to take in the massive main lodge. The huge fireplace at one end of the room was tall enough that Trish could walk inside it. She wouldn’t, of course, since there was a roaring fire warming the space. But it was certainly big.
Throughout the room, golden brown leather chairs and sofas were grouped around hand-built twig tables. Thick carpets covered the hardwood floors and wide wood beams stretched across the immense cathedral ceiling. The walls were exposed timbers, bleached, then varnished to a rich, warm hue.
“It’s dazzling,” she said finally.
He chuckled. “Why don’t you have a seat by the fire? I’ll check where they put our bags and get the keys to our rooms for the night, then we’ll take a tour, meet the chef and have dinner.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Our rooms? Dinner? Aren’t we flying back?”
“It’s after four o’clock and we still have work to do here,” he explained. “We’ll spend the night and go back tomorrow morning. That way you can meet with the chef and we can talk about the opening.”
“But that’s crazy,” Trish said before she could stop herself. “I can’t spend the night here with you.”
He studied her for a moment. “Is it spending the night away from home that worries you or the fact that you’re here with me?”
“Neither,” she said hastily. “I’m not worried. I’m just…hmm.”
He moved closer and seemed to grow taller, stronger, before her eyes. “We’re here to work, not play.”
“I know,” she whispered.
He was close enough that she could smell his scent, a heady combination of forest, citrus and Oh, dear lord, leather. If she moved another inch, their mouths would meet. It was tempting.
“Are you afraid of me?” he asked quietly.
She tried to laugh, but her throat was too dry. “Don’t be silly.”
“Because I assure you, Trish. You’re in no danger from me.”
“Of course not.” She smiled weakly.
He stared at her face for another moment, looking for signs of what? Fear? She gave him her best blank look. He nodded once and went off to get the keys. Sinking into a plush leather chair near the warm fire, Trish swallowed uneasily. In no danger from him? Was he serious? Or simply blind? Oh, if he only knew how much danger she was in. She just hoped he would never find out.