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I nod slowly. “I spoke with Sharon earlier. Explained my situation, how much I appreciate and am inspired by your talent, and knowing how busy she is, I would love to hire Paxton Design to work on this project for me. With the sole purpose of having you lead it.”
She sucks in a harsh breath. “So I’m working for you.”
“She cleared your schedule for the next two weeks. It’ll be an intense, rushed job, but I know you can do it.” I do. She’s smart. Her employer had nothing but wonderful things to say about her, not that I’m surprised. Ivy is amazing.
So amazing, I can’t stop thinking about her.
“What if I don’t want to be a part of this project? What if I don’t want to work directly with you?”
Damn, not the answer I expected from her. “Does it bother you?” Pausing, I study her, drinking in all that dark hair waving past her shoulders, her beautiful but shrewd gaze, her lips pressed together as if she’s afraid she’s going to say something she’ll probably regret. “We’ve already done this, Ivy, and we were pretty damn compatible. Would it be such a hardship, having to spend time with me?”
Her jaw drops open, and she glances around as if she wants to make sure no one’s listening before she leans across the table. “If you’re implying that I’m going to havesexwith you, you couldn’t be further from the truth. Been there, done that, don’t want to go through with it again.”
“Ouch.” I rub my chest, surprised by her words. Why, I’m not sure. I asked for them by saying all that. “Harsh.”
“It’s the truth,” she retorts, draining the last of the wine in her glass. “God, I need a refill.”
“I’ve made some mistakes. A lot of mistakes,” I correct myself when she narrows her eyes, looking ready to blast me. “The biggest one is how I’ve treated you. I’m sorry I haven’t called or contacted you since we were last together. I’ve been—busy.” And too chickenshit to make the first move.
She rolls her eyes. “Like I was sitting beside the phone waiting for your call. Please, Archer. Don’t flatter yourself.”
She’s extra feisty tonight, which I assume means she’s extra mad at me. I need to tread lightly. “It’s not that I was purposely ignoring you, you know. I’ve been swamped trying to put this new resort together.” It’s the best excuse I have—and the truth, for the most part. Hopefully she believes me.
Thankfully she doesn’t acknowledge what I said. “Explain the new location. I’d love to hear more about your little secret,”she says, settling back into her chair as if she’s going to stay awhile.
Excitement rises within me. Her wanting to hear about it means she’s interested. And once I get her fully hooked, she’ll be on board to happily work with me. I know it. “It’s the ultimate in luxurious comfort. Every need will be taken care of at the Calistoga location. It’s a more intimate resort that caters exclusively to only a handful of couples at any given time. Couples that are looking to put intimacy back into their relationship. Even sexual intimacy.” I stress the last two words.
“A swingers club,” she states flatly.
I shake my head, chuckling. “Hell, no. What sort of pervert do you think I am?”
Ivy doesn’t say a word, just arches a delicate brow in challenge.
I sigh and shake my head. “Fine, I’m a pervert. But I don’t run a swingers resort, Ivy. There’s no swapping with others or wild orgies going on at either location. It’s all about a one-on-one level.” Ironic, considering I have no clue what that’s like.
“Then what exactly is this new place supposed to be?”
“It’s whatever your heart desires,” I say softly. “Whatever your lover wants. Hence the name Crave, considering it fits so perfectly. A discreet, comfortable, safe place where you can discover your secret fantasies, indulge in your secret wants. The new location will provide whatever you might need, no questions asked.”
Her cheeks are pink, her eyes wide. She looks almost... aroused. “It sounds—interesting.”
I smile. Damn, she’s beautiful. “It is. Very interesting.”
She remains silent, tracing the stem of her wineglass withthe tip of her index finger. I fixate on that finger, how delicately she touches the glass, the short, darkly painted nail. My skin suddenly feels too tight, I’m getting hard from watching her finger, for the love of God. Taking a deep breath, I try to regain some control.
But hell, I’m dying to feel those fingers all over my body again...
Leaning across the table, I lower my voice, ready to cut to the chase. “I need you, Ivy. I want you to bring a sexy, sophisticated touch to my resort.”
A little sigh escapes her. “You’ve already arranged it with Sharon. Why feel the need to ask me?” She sips from her wine, her gaze steady on me over the rim of her glass.
“Because I want you to willingly work with me. I know I should’ve told you first before I spoke to Sharon, but I was getting desperate. I’m running out of time and I need to get this project finished. And I trust you.” It’s the truth. I hardly trust anyone. I definitely don’t trust any women. They’re all the same.
Except for Ivy.
Reaching for her hand again, I press my palm against hers and entwine our fingers. Hers are slender, delicate, and I swear they tremble in my grip. A jolt moves through me at the connection, as if my body missed being touched by hers. “Say yes, you want to work with me.”
“It’s not that easy...”
