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“Doesn’t make what I said any less true.”
Amara ignored me, returning her attention to her family.
“So what do you guys think?” she asked, the apprehension in her voice so slight I would’ve missed it had I been paying less attention.
And God, what the fuck was wrong with me that I studied her intently enough to decipher the nuances of her tone?
“It’s all genius,” Chloe said. “I think this will all really help our profit margins and foot traffic to the winery.”
“Which means I get to bake more treats!” Brie quipped excitedly, and I couldn’t help but grin at her enthusiasm. I appreciated the youngest Delatou child’s spirit. Save that fire in her eyes I’d witnessed when I approached her about voting Amara out—a deal I still hadn’t been able to close thanks to these stubborn women around me, too damn loyal for their own good—she didn’t cause problems, and was content to spend her days in the kitchens, out of my way.
Amara could take some notes from her baby sister.
“Whatever you need, Mar,” Ella said without looking up from the booklet in front of her. “I’ll help with whatever. Maybe we could make sure the rooms at the Villa with arrangements of fresh flowers for when new guests check in? I can talk to Fanny about that and we can work something out.”
The words shocked me as much as her actually having a plan for how to chip in. Ella Delatou was not what I would consider a team player. Where the family business was concerned, she generally seemed withdrawn and apathetic, preferring to keep to herself instead of indulging in the incessant family bonding that seemed to happen around here.
I think a lot of it had to do with Alfie, her douche bag boyfriend. I didn’t know much about Ella outside of the intricate floral designs inked like sleeves on her arms and the piercings that lined her left ear from lobe to tip, but I knew she could do better thanthatguy. Something I’m sure her sisters had told her on numerous occasions.
Honestly, she kind of scared me a little. Where her sisters were all bubbly and outgoing, fresh-faced and dressed in the latest fashions, Ella was…their opposite in every way. Her mid-length dark hair was streaked with pink, and she wore fishnet stockings under ripped jean shorts, a heavily distressed band tee, and a studded collar.
To a board meeting.
You see what I have to deal with here?
“Thanks El,” Amara said to her sister with a soft smile. “I would love that actually. Get me a number and we’ll go from there.”
“Let me just nip that little idea in the bud right now,” I said, narrowly holding back a chuckle at the pun I’d unintentionally made. “You’re not getting money for flowers, oranything, until you tell me what all this”—I gestured to the booklet in front of me—“shit is going to cost.”
Amara slowly turned toward me, and I resisted the urge to shrink under that gaze. I’d be damned if that glare didn’t make me feel as big as an ant. And I’d be double damned if I wasn’t still completely entranced by her golden eyes.
Amara tossed a number at me, and I snorted, the flicker of desire I’d experienced instantly doused.
“No. Absolutely fucking not.”
“What do you mean,no?” she asked, leaning her hands on the table to get in my face. “This ismycompany.”
“That may be true,” I said, rising to my feet and mirroring her pose to look her square in the eye. “But I control the money, and I said no. I’m not giving you that much for these yet untested ideas.”
Amara huffed out an irritated sigh. “They’re notuntested,” she said, doing a poor job of mimicking me. “TikTok marketing is a tried and true strategy, and canned cocktails have continuously grown in their percentage of the market share over the last few years. These are sound ideas that will make us a lot of money and truly put CD on the map.”
“The answer is still no.”
For untold moments, the only sounds in the room were our heavy breaths. Unbidden, my gaze flicked to her mouth, and when she captured my stare once again, her eyes had darkened from their usual honeyed hue to a deep golden like the color of top-shelf whiskey. Her pulse tripped against her long, slender throat, clueing me in to the fact that she was…turned on. The realization made me feel better about my cock thickening in my pants.
Honestly, what was I? Some fucking teenager with uncontrollable urges? This was a board meeting, for fuck’s sake. And Ihatedthis woman, didn’t I? Arguing shouldn’t be foreplay. It should just be…arguing, yet another demonstration of how deeply our mutual disdain ran.
Her lips parted slightly, and my entire world narrowed to that tiny gap, to the minty breath fanning across my face. To how easy it would be to drag her toward me and capture that unfairly plush mouth with mine. Would she taste as minty as her breath? Would she feel the same as five years ago? Would she make those same, chest-deep moaning sounds that sent shivers racing across my skin? That had ideas of bending her over this table and sinking into her swirling in my mind?
I hated how badly I wanted to find out.
The room came into sharp focus again as someone cleared their throat, and Leon said, “Maybe you two could come to some sort of compromise.”
Amara jerked back like she’d been shocked, and I blinked rapidly, trying to remember where I was, what I was doing—my own damn name.
A hand clenched at her side, and I could practically see the little wheels spinning in her head as she considered whether or not she could get away with driving it into my face. When she flexed her fingers, she said, “What’s it going to take to get you to agree to this?”
“I’m not sure,” I said. “But I’ll let you know when I find out.”
