Page 3 of Wild Promise

Soft at first. Tentative, almost apologetic. Like she wasn’t sure she was allowed to want it. But then her fingers twisted into the front of my shirt, my hand slid against the curve of her waist, and that fragile gentleness caught fire.

And that fire fucking consumed me.

Never mind that I was half-drunk. Forget my father’s voice still echoing in the back of my head. The ache inside me vanished beneath the heat of her mouth on mine.

My tongue tangled with hers, and she moaned against my lips. Nothing in my entire life had ever felt this good. This goddamn right. This fucking whole.

When she finally pulled back, flushed and breathless and staring at me like I’d just upended her entire world, I knew two things with absolute certainty.

The first was that Melina Marshall was going to ruin me.

The second was that I was going to let her.

Chapter One

Melina

The computer screen blurred. I rubbed at my throbbing temples and tried to focus, but my mind was pulling in a million directions and my neck ached from the strain of sitting at a desk for too long.

I’d been trapped in this tiny office for most of the day. Hell, most of the past year. My eyes burned from the fluorescent lights overhead, and my lunch sat untouched on the corner of my desk, cold and forgotten.

When was the last time I’d seen the sun?

At this rate, I was barreling straight toward burnout, with no way to change course or even slow my doomsday speed. How could I? There was a job to do, and I had to do it well.

No, not just well. I had to be the best.

I rolled my neck and turned back to my emails, but my headache only burned brighter when my eyes landed on a single word near the bottom of the screen.

Sorry.

Those five fuzzy letters made the walls close in. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the room to stop spinning. But it was too late.

That horrid word was burned into my brain.

It had been thrown at me so many times over the last year, I’d lost count. There was no escaping it, no matter how hard I tried. Most of the time it was well-meaning, but even with good intentions, it hadn’t done me any favors.

Sorry didn’t make the pain of losing my mother go away. It didn’t cover the cost of my dad’s in-home medical care or put food on the table. It didn’t help with car repairs, property tax, or insurance. It wouldn’t put either of my sisters through college. And it sure as hell didn’t warm my bed at night.

No matter how sincerely it was delivered, sorry couldn’t fix my problems. It was just an enormous pile of pity I didn’t want or need. Another hurdle I was struggling to overcome.

And here it was again, taunting me in an email.

STARS catering wasn’t available for the date I’d requested. Sorry.

It wasn’t personal. This was business, and if I didn’t get a grip on my spiraling emotions, I’d only make things worse. Falling apart over a professional email wouldn’t help get me to the top. Too bad reminding myself of that didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

The office phone rang, the shrill sound stabbing at my aching head. I wasn’t in the mood to be perky. But Mom used to say people can hear the smile in your voice.

So I pasted on the brightest one I could manage and answered the phone. “Copper Ridge Resort, Guest Services, Melina speaking.”

“Melina? Hi. This is Steve Gupta over at Black Tie Catering?”

His question, which wasn’t really a question, made my lips twitch with a real grin. “Hi, Steve. I’m happy you called.”

“Yes. Well…” His voice trailed off, and my smile wavered. “We got your request, and we’re flattered. We’d love to work with a group of your reputation, especially on something as fantastic as the Noma retreat, but we’re a young company, and even though we’ve grown, we’re just not big enough to meet your needs. I’m really sor?—”

“It’s fine, Steve.” I cut off his rambling before he could get that dreaded word out, my glimmer of hope crushed.