Champagne Kisses (11 page)

The whole situation seemed impossible, which made Marissa wonder why she was considering it at all. If things didn’t work out between them, she’d still certainly have to see Donovan from time to time. At the very least she’d see his sister, Diamond, on occasion. Wouldn’t that be a constant reminder of what she couldn’t have, of what could never be?
And just what do you want, Marissa?
If she were truthful, she’d admit to wanting to throw caution to the wind, forget her past heartbreaks and give Donovan a chance. To go on a couple dates at least, test the waters and all that good stuff.
But what about Steven?
This time at the resort was giving her the chance to almost forget about that little problem. But past experience was more than enough proof that her ex-best friend wasn’t going to simply go away.

Marissa entered her suite and immediately saw that a cream-colored envelope had been slid underneath her door in her absence. Her heartbeat quickened immediately.
Donovan.
She picked up the single piece of Drake Wines Resort and Spa stationery and read the typed note:

Dear Ms. Hayes:

Thank you for all of your hard work. The success of this week’s meetings was in part due to you. Please enjoy the enclosed certificate, and this evening, with my compliments.

Thinking of you,

Donovan

The note was short, but Marissa still read it three times. She looked at the certificate and read the note again. What did it mean? Not the certificate, it was self-explanatory: one full-body massage in the privacy of her suite. But by whom? Him? Marissa felt herself grow wet at the thought. Without even thinking about it, she began stripping and headed to the shower. Once inside, with the water pouring over her body, other thoughts poured in as well, thoughts of her ex-boyfriend, Joseph, and how assumptive he always was that she’d be where he wanted her to be and do what he’d say.
But Donovan’s not like that, Marissa. You know he isn’t.

“Right, that isn’t Donovan,” she told herself, soaping her body with her favorite scent: a mix of citrus and vanilla. She ran her hands over her body, across her breasts. Closed her eyes and tweaked her nipples, imagining Donovan’s hands. How long had it been since someone else had touched her?
Too long.
She turned and let the water run down the curve of her back, bent over and felt the warm spray on her round booty. Her hands followed the water: cheeks, thighs, stomach, the valley of paradise. Realizing the time, she caught herself. Fully turned on, she was ready, anxious, giddy with Donovan’s creative seduction.

Exiting the shower, she dried off, scanned her closet of limited choices and after noticing the fluffy white robe the hotel provided, donned it instead. The plush fabric felt soft against her bare skin, and she imagined simply letting it fall when Donovan entered and brazenly claiming his lips in a kiss.
Naughty girl.
It was only fitting. Before the evening was over, Marissa intended to not only get naughty, but to get downright nasty.

She heard a knock at the door. Taking a deep breath to calm the butterflies, she walked over and looked through the peep hole.

Her heart sank.

It wasn’t Donovan.

“Good evening, Ms. Drake,” the Asian woman said, bowing slightly. “We are here for your full-body massage.

“Oh.”

“Did you not receive the invitation?”

Marissa realized how her less-than-enthusiastic response must have sounded. It wasn’t the masseuse’s fault that her fantasy had not played out. She forced a smile and answered. “Yes, I received it. Please, come in.”

The woman wheeled in a portable table, followed by another woman who pulled in a product-filled case. “We are told that you are a very special guest and that we must take special care of you. We’d like to set up here, in the living room area, if that’s all right.”

Marissa hadn’t intended for her sigh to be audible.

“Are you sure there is no problem?” the lead masseuse asked, deep concern instantly on her face. “It is possible to reschedule, if you’d like.”

“No, uh, no,” Marissa countered, lifting her chin in an attempt to save face. “None at all.”

“Good! This session will last two full hours. Let us begin.”

Chapter 16

E
ven though it was Saturday and she probably could have come in later, Marissa still left her suite at 8:25 a.m. for the short trip to the executive offices. She figured with it being a weekend, she wouldn’t encounter that many Drake employees. She even wondered if she and Donovan would be the only ones in the office.

Immediately her mind went to things she’d love to do when alone with him but she shifted those thoughts. If she hadn’t been sure Donovan was interested in her before last night, she definitely knew it now. Had it been any other man, a massage invitation would have been a barely veiled if not blatant precursor to a night of intimacy.

But the invitation Donovan sent said she’d get a massage. And that’s exactly what had happened. A man of his word. Another rare quality in her limited male experience.

So why was she mad at him? Because he hadn’t acted like the men she knew, like Joseph or Steven? And she’d wanted him to. Sure, the massage had been perfection, left her as limp as a wet noodle. But the experience, especially his kind gesture, had left her with a void that needed to be filled. Last night had left Marissa wanting Donovan more than she’d ever wanted any man.

Before now, sex had been something she could take or leave, something she rarely thought of. But she’d tossed and turned all night, had squeezed her legs together in an attempt to quell the throbbing ache, the relentless longing that burned between her thighs, a longing that she had a feeling only one man could fulfill. Sleep had stayed at bay until the wee hours of the morning and the body that had been so relaxed and nurtured the night before was now wound tight as a drum. So yes, Marissa was angry at Donovan for making her want him and angry at herself for her lack of mental restraint.

She reached the executive offices and used the temporary card she’d been given to unlock the door. The delicious aroma of coffee hit her as soon as she entered, a sign that even as early as she was, someone was earlier. She’d hoped to arrive before Donovan, give herself a moment to don a professional veneer to face him. With any luck, it would be one of the accountants she encountered or another of the assistants in to catch up.

Unlike during the week, the reception area was dim, the offices at the front darkened and locked. She turned down the hallway on her right, bypassing the file room and entering the finance area. She realized at once that luck was not on her side. There, in all of his masculine glory, was Donovan, somehow looking professional even though he was dressed in jeans, a polo shirt and…
what? Cowboy boots?
Marissa was immediately reminded of Donovan’s statement the other night, that all of the Drakes knew how to ride. Looking at him now, six feet of dark butterscotch, broad shoulders and thick thighs, she just bet he did. His hip leaned against her desk as he casually thumbed through the mail stacked in the inbox. It was almost as though he’d been waiting for her.

There you go again, Marissa. Stop acting like a love-struck fool. Donovan is interested in your business, not bedroom skills. Get yourself together!

He looked up and that subtle smile that she’d come to recognize and look forward to scampered across his face before being replaced with a less discernible expression. “Good morning.” He stood straight as she walked toward him, catching her gaze before she quickly turned her face away and walked around him, placing her purse in the desk drawer. “It is a good morning, isn’t it?”

“It is a beautiful morning,” Marissa assured him, trying very hard to match his good mood. “An angel gifted me with a spa treatment last night. It was heavenly.” Having put down her purse and somewhat shaped her expression into one of gratitude instead of chagrin, she turned to face him. “Thank you.”

“So you enjoyed it?” He leaned against the desk and immediately Marissa took in his familiar scent. “Your stiff demeanor had me worried for a minute, thought I might have to fire some workers for not properly doing their job.”

“No, the massage was wonderful. It’s just that afterward, well…”

“Well, what?”

Marissa shrugged, realizing that she may be revealing too much and wondering why she cared so much. “I didn’t sleep well.”

Donovan frowned. “Lei did the massage?” Marissa nodded. “Most clients say that after she’s done with them they sleep like a baby.”

“I guess I had a lot on my mind.”

“Care to share?”

“No,” was her quick reply. “I’m ready to get down to business so tomorrow I can spend my day off in San Diego, go to church and then go by my apartment to check on things. We are still at a point where I can take tomorrow off, correct?” Donovan nodded. “Good. If we end the day early enough, I’ll drive down there tonight.”

“Okay. After you get settled then come into my office.”

As Donovan watched her grab a coffee cup and leave, he frowned. Something was wrong. But what? He thought that the massage would relax Marissa, have her feeling loose and carefree. Instead the opposite seemed to have happened and she seemed more uptight than ever.

He walked back into his office, still consumed with what could be bothering Marissa. Was it Steven, the jerk who’d tried to assault her and left her so distrusting of men? Had he contacted her, threatened her somehow? Or maybe it was another man. Yes, she’d said that her focus was work, and yes she’d said she was taking a break from dating. But Donovan could see someone who looked like Marissa spending only so many nights alone. He walked over to the window, seeking the peace that usually surrounded him when he gazed upon the hundreds of acres that held the Drake name. His shoulders relaxed somewhat but the scowl remained. How did he unlock this mystery that was Marissa Hayes?

He realized that with all of his academic knowledge and corporate experience, in matters of the heart he was severely lacking. Unlike his brother, Donovan hadn’t majored in women for the last ten years. Sure he’d had his share of one-night stands, had made the rounds in college as he honed his lover skills. Most of the time, there was little he had to do for these favors. Women seemed to flock to the silent, brooding type, as he’d been labeled. More often than not, women had been the aggressor in his many liaisons. That was fine with him. Like any Drake, he had a ferocious sexual appetite and loved women. But he’d never thought much about marriage, and when he did, he thought of his parents and grandparents, believing that if he ever did take that walk down the aisle it would be with someone he could envision spending a lifetime with.

He thought he’d met that woman seven years ago, when he was twenty-five. He’d believed Erica Kimble was the one who’d give him the kind of love that Luella had given Papa Dee, that Mary gave David, Jr., and that his mother, Genevieve, gave his father. Instead, she’d taken one of the most precious things a man can have away. That had happened almost two years ago and truth be told, Donovan had yet to fully recover.

“I’m ready.” Marissa stood in his office a few steps from his desk. She was holding her mug and looking at him with a curious expression. He’d been so deep in thought that he hadn’t heard her come in.

“Uh, yeah.” Donovan placed his current thoughts to the side and reached for his laptop. “Now that we’ve inputted the business contacts, it’s time to start the fun stuff,” he said, clicking on some keys and reaching for a large accordion folder at the same time. “Inputting the wealthy potential customers who we’ll invite to a series of exclusive parties to taste our wine. All of these contacts, and their detailed personal and company information, must be transferred into the database.” He handed Marissa the weighty file.

“My goodness,” she said after opening it up. “There’s a lot.”

“The most influential bankers, business owners and entrepreneurs from Beijing to Hong Kong,” Donovan replied with a hint of pride. “My counterparts have been busy, and we need to have all of their information inputted as soon as possible, hopefully before making my next scheduled trip.”

“You’ve been to China?”

“Seven times in the past six months.”

“I’d love to go there. It seems so exotic.”

“It’s a beautiful country,” Donovan replied, rising. “Listen, I have to run back to the house for a bit. There’s something I need to take care of. Hit me up on my cell if you need me.”

“Oh, okay.” Marissa noted Donovan’s rather abrupt departure. What did he have to go back to the house for when he’d just gotten to the office?

Chapter 17

D
onovan jumped into his Mercedes for the short drive to the Drake estate. So far he’d handled Marissa as he would any project in which he envisioned success; he thought he’d mapped out a fairly good strategy. But due to his limited expertise in the area of females, things were not going as planned. It was time to do what he would have had this been any other type of business situation: call for backup.

He reached the house and strode purposefully into the great room. A surprised Genevieve turned from the plant she was watering. “Donovan! Did you forget something?”

“No, just need to holler at Dad a minute.”

“He’s with your grandfather. You’d better hurry though, I think they’re leaving for the golf course.”

“Thanks, Mama,” Donovan said over his shoulder, already heading to the front door. Donald was with David, Jr.? Perfect. Because when it came to Drake business two heads were better than one, and when it came to women three heads were better than two.

* * *

Donovan reached his dad and grandfather just as they were exiting the former spacious guest home where David and Mary now resided. Both men wore lightweight, knee-length shorts, cotton shirts and golf caps, and each had a large leather golf bag hoisted over his shoulder.