Having Fun with Mr. Wrong (27 page)

During the week, Carmala worked feverishly to get all the financial data she needed for her investors. The company had a lot of capital, little debt, and a healthy amount of revenue. The plans for the expansion appeared to be thorough. She purposely kept her interactions with Michael to a minimum. Really, she didn’t have time to think about him much because she’d been busy, and the week passed quickly.

He stopped by her office Saturday afternoon. “Are you done yet?”

She practically jumped out of her seat. “No, actually, I have a lot more to cover. I need information on the subsidiaries. However, I have gotten a lot done this week.”

“I have full confidence that you have.” He leaned in and winked. “It’s time for a little fun, don’t you think?”

“I guess.” She stretched in her chair. “What did you have in mind?”

“I was thinking about a nice Italian dinner. How does that sound?”

“I’d like to freshen up a bit.” She stowed her laptop in her desk drawer, locked it, and put away assorted papers and files. “But I don’t want to stay out too late. I need to come in tomorrow. Does anyone work around here on Sundays?”

“There’s usually a few people around. I don’t expect you to work on a Sunday.” His cell phone rang, but he ignored it.

“I only have five business days left. Really, only four and a half because I’ll be leaving next Friday.” She hesitated and thought to add, “I must say, clients don’t usually wine and dine me. It’s usually the other way around.”

Not that she minded the attention. She expected she’d be alone on the weekend, at the hotel lounge, curled up with her latest novel.

“We’re only a phone call away and could send you anything you need via Internet and fax.” He patted her shoulder. “Come on, then. I’ll take you to the hotel and wait while you get ready.”

“If you insist.” She loved that he wanted to show her around. As long as she maintained the appropriate distance, she was sure no harm would come from of a night out with Michael Maddox.

At dinner, Carmala enjoyed the easy flow of conversation and the slight buzz from the sauvignon blanc.

“Are you enjoying your chicken marsala?” he asked, then munched on his shrimp scampi.

“It’s delicious. Too much, though. Maybe I’ll bring it in the office for lunch tomorrow. I’m going to get fat with all this heavy food.”

“I don’t see what you have to worry about. You’re so petite.” He winked at her. “You must give men a run for their money.”

Should she tell him about Guido? He hadn’t mentioned a thing about his own love life, and she was enjoying this tête-à-tête.

A pang of guilt pulled at her heartstrings. “Actually, there’s just one guy. His name is Guido. We live together.”

Michael didn’t register a single sign of disappointment. At least none that she could tell. Then again, she’d received mixed signals from him the entire time she’d been in Palm Beach.

He continued prodding, “With a name like that, I suppose he’s Italian, like you?”

“He is. His family came from Sicily.”

“I’d have to say he is one lucky guy.” He swirled his wine, his voice laced with teasing promises.

A well-dressed, thin, older woman with dyed-blonde hair approached their table, carrying a glass of wine. The suit appeared to be Chanel. Her hair, however, spilled out of her bun, and her jacket was missing a button. Despite her sharp attire, she appeared unkempt. Carmala smiled to herself. If she didn’t expect otherwise, she’d assume the woman had a rendezvous in the bathroom. She kissed Michael’s cheek and gave Carmala a look-over while saying in a slurred voice, “Darling, I didn’t know you two were coming here. I’m with the girls for a cocktail. We just finished bridge.”

Michael appeared nonplussed at her disheveled appearance. “Your bridge game ended late tonight.”

“It did. And then Susie and Kate wanted to discuss a few important matters with me.” She sipped her wine. “Are you going to introduce me?”

“Of course, sorry. Anabel, this is Carmala from New York. Carmala, my wife, Anabel.”

His wife
. Good thing she’d let Michael know she was taken. She particularly hated men who cheated. “I’m pleased to meet you.” Carmala extended her hand, but Anabel brushed her off.

“No need for formalities, dear. I heard that you were coming in to help Michael with his business.” Anabel took a long gulp of her wine. “You two get on with your meeting, and I’ll get to mine.” She gave Carmala a steely smile and turned on her heel, splashing wine on the floor.

Carmala waited for Michael to speak. She wasn’t surprised he was married. But to
that
woman? A bit shocking. Anabel was rude, whereas Michael was full of charm and class. She couldn’t imagine them together.

The entire scenario reminded Carmala why she didn’t mix business with pleasure.

“Don’t mind Anabel.” Michael sipped his water. “She can be a bit highfalutin, but that goes with the territory in Palm Beach society.” He continued to eat, as though Anabel’s appearance and behavior were nothing out of the ordinary.

Maybe Annabel’s showing up at the same restaurant with her own party
was
a normal occurrence for them. Carmala had no words and remained silent.

Michael cleared his throat. “How do you feel about boating?”

“Boating? Can’t say I’ve done much of it. The last time I went on a boat was probably a cruise on the Hudson for a work function.”

“How would you like to take a ride on my cabin cruiser tomorrow?”

“I, ah, what about Anabel?”

He laughed, but the glee didn’t reach his eyes. What a shame. Maybe they were married in name only.

“No, no. Unfortunately, Anabel will have nothing to do with the boat. It’s my Sunday ritual to take it out. I usually choose a quiet place to catch up on my reading. I have a server to make drinks and food, as well as a captain. You’ll love the fabulous views of Palm Beach from the water. You can work on the boat. I promise.” He gave her that lazy, coaxing smile again.

“You don’t have to go to such trouble.” Now that she knew he was married, she didn’t feel comfortable socializing with him. Maybe he thought it was necessary to secure the financing he wanted. “I appreciate all of your hospitality, but really, you’re going above and beyond.” Carmala pushed her plate aside.

“Have you had any clients of Maddox Industries’ scope?”

He asked the question politely, so she didn’t construe it to be insulting in any way. “No, I can’t say I’ve worked with any clients—”

“Then you shouldn’t worry about my extravagance. At this level, we all do it.”

“I’m certainly glad to be on the receiving end of your generosity.” She didn’t want to insult him and struggled to find the right words. “Usually the clients I’ve dealt with, at the very most, take me for dinner and drinks. But this, the spa, the five star resort…I don’t deserve this kind of treatment. Although I must say I’m fully enjoying—”

“Then it’s settled. We’ll go on the boat for the day, and I’ll give you the tour of the Palm Beach coast line.”

They were silent for a bit. Michael finished his meal. The waiter picked up their plates and asked if they wanted anything else. They declined, and Michael asked for the check.

“You know, I live a fairly lonely life, Carmala. It largely consists of work. Anabel is preoccupied with her ladies’ clubs, her Maltese dogs, and her pinot grigio. I’m not complaining. Our arrangement works fine. But after twenty years, we share very few common interests.”

Okay. Too much info. She wanted to back away from the table, feeling a little like an interloper in a private conversation she had no right to hear.

“I’ve never been on a cabin cruiser.” She attempted to sound neutral.

He settled the bill and guided Carmala out of the restaurant and into the mild evening air. They strolled along Royal Poinciana Way. “The boat has a wonderful cabin, complete with a living room, galley, master, and two guest staterooms and a pilot house. The deck includes a sun and a swim platform.”

“Sounds like fun. I—I just have a lot of work to still do.”

“If it makes you feel any better, we’ll pick up your laptop on the way.”

“If you don’t mind, that’d be great.”

He hesitated, then faced her. “Say, would you like to try out Ta-boo?”

“What’s Ta-boo?”

“It’s a restaurant and club on Worth Avenue. They have dancing on Saturday nights. Do you like to dance?”

“Dancing? Sure, why not?”

“Great, it’s not far from here.”

****

How so many people crowded in on the tiny restaurant space of Ta-boo and on an even smaller dance floor amazed Carmala. A DJ spun records in a booth tucked in right above the dance floor. Michael ordered a couple of drinks from the three-people-deep bar, but before they finished their drinks, he grabbed her hand and led her to the dance floor. Carmala’s feet glided easily with his. He was a fantastic dancer. He twirled and dipped her. She felt giddy and happy. She kept reminding herself that this was supposed to be a professional relationship. Yet with every brush of their bodies, it seemed much more.

After four fast dances, the DJ put on slow music. Michael pulled her to him. “You don’t mind dancing to a slow tune, do you?”

“I, ah, well, I don’t see why not.” Before she finished her sentence, she was already in his arms. It felt good to be there. Her head fit perfectly at the top of his chest.

She stole a peek at him. He stared deeply into her eyes, so much so she instinctively lowered her eyes. This was entirely inappropriate, and Carmala believed they’d just stepped over the line of impropriety. Yet he smelled good no doubt covered in expensive designer cologne.

The first slow song turned into two, and they continued to dance. He pulled her closer still. Her hip brushed the distinct outline of a hard-on pressed against her.

God, now she
had
to disengage.

“I think we better call it a night, huh?”

Something flashed in his eyes. Perhaps longing? Yet he composed himself and resumed a gentleman-like distance.

“Absolutely. We’ll need to get an early start tomorrow.” He put his hand to her back and steered her off the dance floor and out of Ta-boo.

They were silent on the way home, and when they pulled in at the hotel, he jumped out and opened the car door for her. “I’ll pick you up at nine in the morning. That’s not too early for you, is it?”

“No, that’s perfect. See you then. Thanks for a lovely evening.”

“The pleasure was all mine. Good night, Carmala.”

She wondered if he would kiss her. She glanced at his mouth and bit her bottom lip. God, she wanted him to.
What was wrong with her?
His eyes met hers, but he didn’t lean in, didn’t step closer.

She was glad he didn’t. She had to remind herself he was a client. Even if he was the sexiest man she’d ever met.

Besides, there was Guido. How easily she seemed to forget him.

****

The next morning, Carmala rolled out of bed at six a.m. and headed to the hotel gym. She worked up a feverish sweat on the treadmill and did some weights. She finished her workout, returned to her room, showered, and packed a bag for the day.

Michael was already waiting outside the hotel when she stepped outside. He got out of the car and opened her car door. “All ready for the boat trip?”

“Yep, got my sea legs on.”

“Good for you.” He chuckled.

They went to the marina where his cruiser called
The Triple Crown
waited.

“She’s aptly named,” Carmala said.

“Thank you. Yes, I think so. Climb on board.”

The ship’s captain greeted them and assisted them aboard. Michael showed her to a room and told her she could use it to change and rest, if she wanted. She put her belongings on the bed. Carmala realized they’d never bothered to pick up her laptop as she followed Michael for the remainder of his tour. Oh, well. Nothing she could do about it now. She’d might as well enjoy the day off.

She loved the feel of the ocean breeze against her face at the bow of the ship as they cast off. Michael pointed out the large estates they passed along the way. A waiter appeared with champagne and a tray of caviar, fruit, cheese and crackers.

She shouldn’t feel guilty, but she did. They weren’t exactly alone, but every time she caught his mesmerizing eyes on her, she could swear he was searching for something.

She decided to let go, a least a little. She drank the fine French champagne and quickly felt the buzz go to her head. To hell with work and the diet today.

Carmala leaned on the railing at the bow of the boat and held back her head, reveling in the cool, salty breezes of the ocean spraying on her face. She let go of the railing and downed more of the bubbly. She’d only had a couple of glasses, but maybe it hit her head faster because she was on the water, she didn’t know how but she lost her balance. Michael put his arm around her waist and broke her fall. He then pulled her close and kissed her.

The kiss was unexpected, and without reasoning or thinking, Carmala let herself go. Her lips opened easily into a perfect fit with his lips. Michael’s tongue slipped into her mouth. She met his silky smoothness in a seductive dance she didn’t want to end. His hands ran down her back and then on her ass. She didn’t mind, it all felt so good. Michael pulled her in tighter and then against the railing, his cock pushing against her.

Oh, God, she couldn’t do this. She absolutely couldn’t. But she didn’t want it to end.

Carmala reluctantly broke the kiss and gently pushed him off her. “Michael, this is uncomfortable. I mean, it feels good. But it’s not right.” Then, more resolutely, “I need to maintain the proper distance while we’re doing business together.” Oh no, now she sounded like she was promising the possibility of something later.

Nodding, he withdrew, putting his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry, Carmala. I feel comfortable with you. I didn’t mean to place you in a compromising position.”

“Don’t worry about it. Let’s concentrate on business for the rest of the trip. I want to do a good job for you and this…”

He put a finger across her lips. “Shh. We will say not another word on the matter. I shall be the perfect gentleman for the rest of the trip. Let’s pretend this never happened.” Then he winked at her, which appeared to reverse the meaning of his statement and only rekindled the passion that brewed inside of her.