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She had just about given up when she spied a flash of green in the back corner. She grabbed the hanger and pulled the dress out, a smile spreading across her face.
It was perfect. Elegant, tasteful, with a hint of sexiness that would make her feel like she belonged among the elite guests at tonight’s dinner.
And hopefully, she thought with a small smile, it would knock Damon’s socks off.
Damon leaned against the stone wall that bordered the private terrace Bengtsson had booked for tonight’s dinner and sipped a glass of champagne. Jazz played quietly from speakers hidden among the foliage. Crowley’s chief operations and finance officers had been sent in the CEO’s stead. While Damon believed in showing his personal investment in his clients and their contracts, Crowley was still a worthy opponent. Both of the executives were respected in the manufacturing community and very good at their jobs.
He took another sip of champagne and glanced toward the stone steps. Evolet had come back from her shopping with a bag in hand and a feminine smile on her face that had teased him. She’d told him to go on without her, promising that she would arrive before the dinner started.
Guilt whispered through him. Talking with her on the plane and reminding her that their affair could go no further than it already had had seemed like the logical thing to do. Every now and then he would catch Evolet looking at him, an emotion flickering in her eyes that both thrilled and terrified him. He suspected she was coming to feel more for him than what he could give in return.
Except she hadn’t reacted the way he’d anticipated. There had been a flash of hurt, yes. But then she had handled it decorously, making him wonder if the hurt had been more because he’d brought it up when she hadn’t done anything overt to make him doubt her.
That she had handled it so well had done the opposite of reassuring him. No, her sedate response had slipped under his skin, an uncomfortable sensation that prickled and taunted. He had tried to dissect it. But then he’d seen her standing at the balcony looking out over the ocean, blond hair streaming down her back, and cursed himself. He was getting exactly what he wanted. He was in Bali with a woman he found captivating, a woman whose company he enjoyed both in and out of bed.
He needed to accept that things were fine just the way they were and focus his attention on the matter at hand: securing the Royal Air contract.
“Ah, Edward!”
Damon turned to see a portly man wearing a Savile Row custom-tailored suit approach. Bryant Bengtsson’s dress was always impeccable, his white beard trimmed and his elegant moustache styled. Yet his booming voice and perpetual broad grin set people at ease.
He returned Bengtsson’s hearty handshake. “Thank you for inviting me.”
“Nonsense. You and that intriguing executive assistant of yours put together quite the proposal.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Bengtsson glared at him. “Stop with that ‘sir’ nonsense. It’s Bryant or Bengtsson.”
“Understood.”
“Good.” Bengtsson tossed back another drink and winced. “This stuff’s potent. Need to pause if I’m going to keep my wits about me tonight. Will your executive assistant be attending tonight as well?”
Damon glanced at him as he maintained a neutral expression. He respected Bengtsson, but the older man was razor sharp and looking out for the best interests of his own company. He had no doubt the man was playing things casually to give Damon an opportunity to either say something witty or plant his foot firmly in his mouth.
“Yes.”
“I was surprised to learn it was a temporary assistant who helped you.” When Damon merely continued to look at him, Bengtsson chortled. “I’d like to play poker with you sometime.” He signaled for a refill on his drink from a passing waiter. “It’s not like you to trust someone with something this big. Speaking of,” he continued as he slipped briskly from teasing trickster to efficient business mogul, “I’d like for you and Crowley’s operations officer to stay after dinner. Consider it a cocktail hour to discuss the final steps in the selection process.”
“Of course.”
A flash of green drew his gaze to the stairs. His breath caught.
Evolet descended the stairs, a vision in a strapless dark green dress. The bodice was molded perfectly to her chest, the full skirt flaring out from her waist and covered in big white flowers. Her hair was pulled back from her face to show off her exquisite features before falling in gentle waves onto her shoulders.
She saw him and smiled. The nervousness in her eyes, the slight hesitation in her step as she glanced at the other guests before squaring her shoulders and continuing down, all of it made his heart thud harder against his ribs.
Bengtsson clapped him once on the back.
“Dinner will be served in fifteen minutes. And Edward?”
Damon tore his eyes away from Evolet long enough to meet Bengtsson’s suddenly somber gaze.
“I’ve always been impressed with what Bradford Global has accomplished under your leadership.” His eyes flicked toward Evolet. “Just don’t let business blind you to other important things.”
With those parting words, Bengtsson moved over to his wife. Damon turned to watch Evolet glide closer. When she reached his side, he took her hand in his and raised her fingers to his lips.
“You look beautiful.”
