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“In case you hadn’t noticed, I’m wearing a swimsuit and a cover-up. You don’t think that’s a tad improper?”
“I think it’s the standard dress code in Maui, but I want you to be comfortable.” He hefted the bag in his hand. “Shower and change in my suite, if you like.” Stepping closer to her in the small space, he challenged her with a grin. “What’s the matter, Chelsea? Afraid to be alone with me? Afraid you can’t”—he lowered his voice, and focused on her lips—“resist me?”
She walked forward until they stood toe-to-toe, and he fell into the same deep brown eyes that had stared back at him in his dream last night, wide and hazed with desire as she’d whispered his name. The moment stretched. The husky memory of her voice repeating his name echoed in his mind.
The elevator halted. The doors whooshed open, breaking the silence.
She stepped back and flashed him a satisfied smile, complete with dimple. “Don’t worry about me, Mr. St. Sebastian. I can resist you.”
You can resist him. Chelsea repeated the words in her mind like a mantra as she exited the suite’s second bedroom, fresh from a shower. Back in the cobalt blue wrap dress and black pumps she’d worn to work, she felt better equipped to keep the oath. Then she spied him sitting on the big, U-shaped sectional in the living area of the suite, absently swirling a drink in one hand while talking on the phone. Her confidence ebbed. The lights were low. Soft island music flowed from the sound system. Beyond the open balcony door, surf pounded shore in a rhythm older than time.
Her movement caught his eye. He gestured her to the sofa, while into the phone he said, “Thanks, Arden. I’ll see you next week.”
Arden. Friend? Business associate? Lover? All of the above? None of your business, she reminded herself, and took a seat kitty-cornered to him on the sectional.
He lifted a second drink from the glass-topped coffee table and offered it to her. “Rum and Coke, courtesy of the mini-bar. Dinner’s on the way.”
She took the Tradewinds emblazoned low ball and held it in front of her like a tiny shield. “Mr. St. Sebastian—”
“Call me Rafe.”
“I’d prefer to keep things between us professional. As such, let me take a minute to firm up a couple points about my role.”
He raised an eyebrow and set his drink down. “Feel free to firm up anything you’d like, Miss Wayne.”
His neutral tone told her he was baiting her, just like he’d been doing since he corn
ered her on the beach. Digging deep for some of the professionalism she wanted, she replied, “The deal liaison job arrived at a very opportune time, and I’m…flattered you requested me, but I want to be sure we’re on the same page about what the job entails.”
“It’s pretty straightforward. Starting next week, you’ll acquaint me with everything about Tradewinds.”
“You mean the amenities and activities, or—?”
“Everything. I need to know this resort inside and out. The staff, the property, all of it.”
“That’s a tall order. Though small by Maui’s standards, Tradewinds is a bigger resort than Las Ventanas. I hope you’ve got plenty of time.”
“Not so much. We plan to finalize the transaction in six weeks. What I do have is a lot riding on this acquisition. I need to close the deal, and close it cleanly. Zero surprises. I didn’t dive deep enough into the details during the Las Ventanas due diligence, and as soon as we closed, I got blindsided by some troublesome issues involving upper management.” He looked at her. “As I think you know.”
“Well, gee, if it’s any consolation, I got blindsided, too, and I was pretty deeply involved.” She didn’t quite succeed in keeping the sarcasm out of her voice.
He brushed her sarcasm off with a laugh. “Good thing we’re both smarter now. Our instincts have been honed by experience. If there are any hidden risks associated with this acquisition, you and I are going to bring them to light ahead of time.”
Wonderful. The deal liaison position included real responsibilities, but now doubt crept into her mind as to whether she could fulfill them. “I haven’t been here very long. I might not be the best person to give you the insight you need.”
“You’re the obvious choice. You’ve been here long enough to know the operation, and the key staff, but not so long you’re entrenched in the status quo. I trust you to tell me what’s working and what needs improvement. And where you think improvements are called for, I want to hear your ideas.”
“What if I don’t have any ideas?”
“Oh, come on.” His mouth tilted up at one corner. “I reviewed several of your proposals from Las Ventanas. You’re full of ideas, and Barrington’s not around to steal the credit for them this time.”
“I don’t know what you mean.” But a sinking feeling in her stomach said otherwise.
“You came up with the idea of turning Las Ventanas into a family resort. You did all the research, put together a proposal, shared it with Barrington, and then he went to Mr. Merriman and told him he’d developed the concept. By the time you and Barrington gave the in-person presentation to the owners, he’d already portrayed you as his helpful assistant. Merriman retired. The owners promoted Barrington to general manager. The rest is history.”
He paused and gave her a tight smile. “Except Barrington was too stupid or lazy to change the metadata on the proposal documents. When I reviewed them electronically, I saw who authored them. Also, after working with the man for several weeks, it’s abundantly clear he has no vision for the property and no understanding of guest service.”
Chelsea fought the urge to bury her face in her hands and scream. She’d shared her idea with Paul when they first started dating, and been ridiculously thrilled he’d reacted with enthusiasm and suggested they team up to present a proposal to the owners. Team, her ass. He’d aced her out of her dream job. Instead of screaming, she choked down another hard lesson on guarding her heart. From here on out, trust had to be earned.
