The Millionaire Meets His Match

Six

After a tour of the lodge and the behind-the-scenes facilities, Adam introduced Trish to Jean Pierre, the head chef. Together with the hotel and restaurant managers, they all sat down to discuss opening-night strategies. After an hour, Adam ended the meeting and took Trish off to enjoy dinner in the resort’s most elegant restaurant.

Adam had already explained to Trish that although the resort wasn’t yet open to the public, the entire staff was up and running at full power these last few weeks until the official opening. The kitchen prepared meals throughout the day and the waitstaff served them to other employees with the same professionalism they would show to a paying guest. The same procedure was followed by the other departments throughout the hotel, and everything was observed and graded by the management team.

When it came to running their resorts, the Dukes preferred to leave nothing to chance.

And when it came to seducing beautiful women, Adam Duke left nothing to chance, either.

It had occurred to him as he was picking up their room keys, that his strategy with Trish could use some fine-tuning. So far, she was playing the model employee, pretending confusion and uncertainty when he’d informed her they’d be spending the night in this remote, beautiful place. He’d ostensibly played right into her hands, practically delivering himself on a silver platter for her enjoyment. So why hadn’t she taken the bait?

Why was she continuing to act so coy?

You’d never know she had her sights set on him, he thought with some disgust. She was obviously playing hard to get, but the goody-goody act was no longer working for him. He would have to find a way to break through her charade. He wanted to look into her eyes and see her hunger, her craving, her need for him.

That’s when he would make his move.

Adam had been in the corporate world a long time and his business instincts were well-honed. He knew how to stoke the fires of desire-in both business and pleasure. He was aware that the surest way to drive up both price and demand was to make it clear that the item was unavailable.

It worked in property development, in sales and acquisitions-and it would work with Trish. With that in mind, Adam decided that he would be the one to play hard to get. He would wine and dine and flatter and cajole and work her into such a state of frenzied need that she would be the one to proposition him. And then he would decide whether to say yes or no.

And because he was such a nice guy, he would probably say yes. Make that hell, yes.

Accompanying Trish into the dining room, Adam stood close enough to hear her breath catch as he touched her shoulder. He felt her heartbeat flutter as his fingers glided over the pulse point of her wrist. He wondered what she was thinking. Was she as attracted to him as he was to her? Oh sure, she wanted him as a husband, but did she want him as a lover? If so, she was playing it awfully damn cool.

He looked forward to turning up the heat.

They were led to a beautifully set table in front of the wide, plate-glass window overlooking the shimmering lake. As Adam pulled out her chair, he deliberately touched the small of her back, then let his hand glide up to her neck as she sat down. He was pleased to feel her back arch in response, as though she wanted more.

He would not disappoint her.

As Trish gazed at the view, dusk turned to dark and the world outside the window turned magical. She gasped as strategically designed outdoor lighting twinkled to life, accenting the beauty of the nearby forest and surrounding mountains. All of it was reflected in the serene surface of the lake.

“It’s so perfect,” she said, gazing across the table at him.

“I’m glad you like it,” he said, admiring the way her brown hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders and her green eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

“How could anyone not love it?” She smiled dreamily as she placed her napkin in her lap. “If I were you, I’d never want to leave.”

Adam was glad he’d arranged in advance to have the stylish restaurant all to themselves. It should’ve felt odd or eerie to be the only diners, but it didn’t. The room was beautiful and well-lit. Willow screens and feathery trees in large pots were used to create intimate dining spaces. The staff was attentive, yet discreet.

Again leaving nothing to chance, Adam had contacted Jean Pierre over the weekend and requested that the chef prepare an extensive tasting menu consisting of those items he was considering serving at the opening-night gala.

For the next two hours, Adam and Trish tasted tiny skewers of tender grilled baby vegetables and savory meats along with a wonderful assortment of delicate canapés. Tiny pancake pillows topped with smoked salmon, crème fraiche and dill, bite-sized pieces of rare roast beef in a pastry crust accompanied by dipping sauces of creamy, homemade horseradish and a savory chutney. There were decadent sauces, fluffy patés and fragile mini-soufflés.

To accompany the hors d’oeuvres, there were six different champagnes to choose from and a number of vintages of cabernet sauvignon to sip and enjoy.

The conversation was enjoyable, as well. Adam found Trish’s opinions stimulating and thoughtful, so they had a spirited discussion on a number of issues. They discovered a mutual appreciation of both vintage jazz and the Sunday comics. She had a sense of humor and she was smart and most important, loyal.

When the conversation finally wound around to the issues plaguing the resort, Trish wondered aloud just how the construction snafu might have occurred. She offered to assist Bob with his investigation of the subsidiary that had cut corners.

“When the truth emerges,” she said, shaking her finger at him, “heads will roll.”

“I’m glad you’re on my side,” he said, chuckling.

“Oops,” she murmured, realizing what she’d said. “I think I’ve had too much champagne.”

“But you’re having fun, aren’t you?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Everything is just beautiful. Thank you for including me in your evening.”

“I had no intention of dining without you.” He sipped his wine. “But now I have to ask, why were you so concerned about staying overnight up here? Do you have a boyfriend waiting at home?”

“Good heavens, no.”

He was relieved to hear her say so. “A hot date maybe?”

She frowned. “No, of course not.”

“Why ‘of course not’? Don’t you date? You’re a beautiful woman.”

Despite the soft candlelight, Adam could see Trish’s cheeks turn pink.

“You shouldn’t say things like that,” she said.

“Even if it’s true?” Adam teased. His grin faded as he sipped his wine. “Were you nervous about being alone with me?”

She glanced around the room as if she might be looking for the waitstaff. “We’re not alone.”

He leaned in. “Yes, we are.”

Biting her lower lip, she looked around again, then straightened up and gazed directly at him. “No, of course I’m not nervous about being alone with you. You’re my boss. I know I’m perfectly safe with you.”

He studied her. “I wish I could say the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’m not sure how safe I am around you.”

She swallowed. “Don’t be silly.”

“You’re dangerous to my peace of mind.”

Her brow furrowed. “But I’m…I’m harmless.”

“Hardly,” he said with a grin, then let her off the hook by changing the subject. “Did you grow up around Dunsmuir Bay?”

She hesitated, then said, “Yes.”

He chuckled. “You don’t sound sure about it.”

She raised her chin. “I grew up down by the pier, with my grandmother.”

“Oh, yeah?” Adam said, relaxing back in his chair. “I like that area.”

“Yes, I loved living there.”

“You moved?”

“Yes.” She looked away, unwilling to say more.

It sounded to Adam as if there might be more to the story but he didn’t push. Instead, he held his glass up, determined to lighten the mood. “Let’s have a toast. To Fantasy.”

Trish managed a smile as she tapped her glass to his. “To Fantasy.” She took a sip, then put the glass down and groaned. “Everything has been delicious, but I can’t put one more thing in my mouth.”

A vivid image of what else she might do with her mouth almost brought Adam out of his seat. It was absurd. What was it about this woman that made his libido behave as if he hadn’t gotten laid in five years? Perhaps it was because he knew they’d come together soon. Very soon, he’d be able to bury himself in her warm depths. It wouldn’t be soon enough to suit him or his raging erection, however.

Had he honestly thought he could wait for her to make the first move? Impossible.

He was about to suggest that it was time to go, when Jean Pierre emerged from the kitchen with several small platters and began to explain all the desserts he’d chosen for them. Adam’s ardor was effectively extinguished, probably a good thing.

Trish’s eyes grew wider with each little morsel the chef pointed to. After he left them alone, she stared at Adam in dismay.

“This is crazy,” she whispered. “Seriously, I can’t eat another bite.”

“I’m not sure I can, either, but we don’t want to hurt Jean Pierre’s feelings.” Adam speared a succulent miniature fruit tart with his dessert fork and held it out for her to taste. “Just one more bite?”

She moaned and rubbed her stomach. “I can’t do it.”

“But how will we know if it’s suitable for the gala?”

“Why don’t you taste it?” she asked.

“Because I’m the boss and I say it’s your job to taste the desserts.”

Trish laughed. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen that rule in the employee handbook.”

Adam chuckled. “Okay, then do it for Jean Pierre.”

“Oh, all right.” She took a deep breath. “This is for Jean Pierre.”

“Good girl,” Adam said, moving the fork closer. “One little taste.”

She took the bite and licked her lips. “Mmm, it’s really delicious.”

Beguiled, Adam scooped a small spoonful of creamy chocolate mousse and held it out for her to sample. “One more bite, babe. Open wide.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling. “but only because it’s chocolate.”

“That’s my girl,” he murmured.

Time stood still as he watched her close her eyes, open her mouth and take the bite. Then she sighed.

“Oh.” She licked her lips and moaned. “Oh, my God. Oh, it’s fabulous.” She swallowed, then licked her lips again.

In an instant, Adam’s body was tight and aching. So much for playing hard to get. He wanted her with a need that burned right through him. In his current condition, he’d never make it out of the restaurant alive. Fine with him. He’d send the staff home, then make love to Trish right here.

So much for his grand scheme of withholding sex until she begged for it. He was the one who would beg her if he had to. Without even trying, she was the sexiest woman he’d ever met.

She was saying something, but he couldn’t hear her. All the blood that might’ve helped his brain function had recognized a more urgent need and rushed to his body’s lower half.

Adam tossed his napkin on the table and stood. “Let’s go,” he said, almost growling the command.

“Don’t we have to pay the bill first?”

“I own the place, sweetheart.” He came around to pull her chair out. “There is no bill.”

“I guess I really am tired if I forgot that.” She smiled up at him.

But on the way out, she insisted on stopping to thank everyone who’d waited on them, then poked her head into the kitchen and called out her gratitude to Jean Pierre, who came running over to kiss her on both cheeks and thank her profusely.

She had a way of making everyone feel special, including Adam, he thought as he led her out of the restaurant. He was beginning to wonder just exactly who was seducing whom.

Riding up in the elevator, Trish could barely breathe. Her heart raced and she shivered with pleasure, he was standing so close. She should’ve backed away and cut herself off from his touch, but she couldn’t bear to. Not yet. Once they were back in Dunsmuir Bay and reality set in, she would deal with these forbidden emotions. But right now she simply wanted to concentrate on his masculine scent, feel the soft pressure of his arm against hers, appreciate his tall, confident stance and wonder how it would feel to be wrapped up in his arms.

She shivered again.

“You’re cold,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and slinging it over her shoulders. Then he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “The mountain air can sneak up on you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering if he’d read her mind. If so, couldn’t he see that it wasn’t the cold making her shiver? Good grief, she was burning up-couldn’t he feel it? But it felt so good to be pressed against his hard body, she never wanted him to stop holding her.

Even though she knew it didn’t mean anything. Could never mean anything. He was just being polite, after all.

Trish made an effort to keep her thoughts casual as she glanced around the elevator. Even in this small space, the hotel’s rustic style prevailed, with a charming bench to sit on and kitschy antler sconces on the walls.

There had been a few times during dinner when she thought Adam might be attracted to her, thought he might even be tempted to kiss her good-night. But he was all business now, holding himself rigid even though he had his arm around her. It was just as well. She had no business thinking they could ever be more to each other than boss and assistant. And, lest she forget, she still had her mission to accomplish, even though at the moment, she could barely remember what that mission was.

It must’ve been the champagne, or maybe the chocolate mousse. She wasn’t thinking clearly at all.

They left the elevator at the top floor and Adam stopped at a door halfway down the hall. Using a card key, he opened the door and held it for her to walk inside.

“Oh,” she said on a quick intake of breath as she looked around the large king-size hotel room, then walked directly to the stone fireplace. A fire had been set recently and was going strong, radiating warmth throughout the room.

There were throw pillows piled on the wide stone hearth for cozying up close by the fire, and the mantel held a sweet display of old-fashioned portraits in small Victorian frames. Hanging on the walls on either side of the mantel were vintage tinted photographs of mountain and lake scenes.

“So pretty,” she murmured, then turned away from the fireplace and noticed the carved wood king-size bed for the first time.

“Wow.” It was a masterpiece, covered in richly brocaded silk with a colorful cluster of pillows. Whole logs made up the frame and headboard, and tall, braided willow branches acted as bedposts. The willows were adorned by gauzy drapes that looped from one branch to the next, giving the room a light, ethereal feel.

The room smelled of pinecones and forest rain. She breathed it all in.

“I’m in awe,” she said, spinning around to see more. “I love it.”

“I’m glad.” He leaned against the sliding-glass door leading to the balcony. His arms were folded across his chest and he looked relaxed and confident and too sexy for her own good, Trish thought.

He unlocked the glass door and stepped outside. “I know it’s cold, but you should come out and see the view.”

She joined him, grateful for the chilly air. Maybe it would cool off the heat washing through her. Adam stood at the rail, staring out at the lake and the mountain rising on the opposite side-dark, vast and mysterious. The moon had risen and was reflected in the water’s surface.

“It takes my breath away,” she said. “I wish we could stay for a week.”

“Do you?”

“Who wouldn’t?” she demurred. “It’s lovely.”

“So are you.”

She looked away. “No, I’m not.”

“You take my breath away,” he said slowly, his dark eyes shining with intent.

She looked up at him, in time to see him lower his head to hers. In time to tell herself to stop this.

“Adam, I’m not sure…” Trish’s thoughts scattered as he covered her mouth with his. His lips were soft yet demanding and the thrill was instant, the warmth so all-consuming, she wondered if she might go up in flames.

“You’re not sure what?” Adam murmured against her skin as his mouth traveled along her jawline.

Trish barely heard him through the cloud of sensation fogging her mind. “What?”

His deep chuckle reverberated as his hand cupped the nape of her neck. “I’m going to kiss you again.”

She was aware of her heart pounding rhythmically in her chest as she pressed her hand against him. “You shouldn’t.”

He met her gaze. “You don’t want me to kiss you?”

“Whether I want you to or not isn’t the point,” she whispered.

“Then it’s settled,” he said, and returned to ravage her mouth.

The vague thought that nothing was settled flitted away. A soft moan escaped her and her knees nearly crumpled as his tongue urged her to open for him. She obliged him, wanting to taste him, wanting to feel his touch everywhere on her body. He was all heat and hardness as he pressed against her. The world around her dissolved and all that mattered was his mouth on hers, his hands gripping her backside as he aroused and devoured her.

“Oh, Adam, I…”

“I want to make love with you, Trish,” he said, his dark blue eyes gleaming.

She gulped and felt the last of her resolve drain away. “I-I want that, too, Adam.”

“I’m glad,” he said. “It’s cold. Let’s go inside.”

He took her hand and led her back inside and slid the door closed. Still holding her hand, he walked to the bed, where he stopped, kissed her again with slow deliberation, then released her only to pick up his jacket and tuck it under his arm.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“I’m saying good night.”

She couldn’t have heard him right. “You’re what?”

“Saying good night,” he said, cupping her cheek in the palm of his hand and stroking her skin with his thumb. “And thanking you for a fantastic evening.”

He kissed her again and she met him with fervor and a need she’d never experienced before.

“But…but you can’t go,” she said, still not believing him. How could he get them both so wound up only to walk away? How could he kiss her, tell her he wanted to make love with her and then leave?

“Believe me, I don’t want to,” he said, resting his forehead on hers and staring into her eyes. “But I also don’t want to rush you into something you might regret later.”

She almost groaned, knowing she should be grateful for his thoughtfulness. Knowing she should appreciate that he was willing to take it slow. Knowing that she didn’t want him to leave.

“But I warn you that the next time we kiss,” Adam said, skimming his lips against hers, “it won’t stop there.”

He pulled back to meet her gaze. “And there will be a next time.”

She blinked, stunned into silence by his words.

“Sweet dreams, sweetheart,” he said, drawing her close. His hands skimmed down her back to her hips as his mouth hovered an inch from hers. She parted her lips in invitation but instead of kissing her, he whispered, “Until next time.”

Then he opened the door and walked out, leaving her dazed and aching with need.