Scent of a Woman (11 page)

She had brought a candle from her room to compensate for the lack of light. The spa pool was bisected by tall Roman columns, and the side facing the ocean was lit up now, but Danielle preferred the privacy of the interior pool.

Ariana had proven an invaluable source of information with both her personal knowledge of ancient cultures and her familiarity with a key online resource. In no time, Danielle had been surfing through pictures of paintings depicting Arabian history and culture. She had also discovered a new translation of
Tales from a Thousand and One Nights
in the ship’s library and read through some of the stories herself. Ariana had even set Danielle up with a feed from an international music Web site so she could listen to traditional Arabic songs.

She had one hour left to sketch before the spa closed for the night. Her pencil lightly shaded the stark rectangular form of a masculine cologne bottle before she filled in the hint of etching she envisioned to look like an astrolabe. She’d already toyed with a recipe for the cologne, which took the low note of Adam’s personal scent—hyssop—and blended a few other floral and spice notes native to the Middle East.

She was genuinely excited about her new ideas for the line and couldn’t wait to share them with Ahmed at their final meeting. He’d responded well to her suggestions the first time they’d met, encouraging her to expand her concept. By now, she’d invested a great deal of time and thought into the line when she didn’t even have a commitment of interest from a retailer or the financial backing of her own company.

Marcel wasn’t interested in putting money behind product development even though he expected her to continually produce new business. How had they grown so far apart these last years? The question plagued her while she worked.

And Marcel wasn’t her only problem. There was also Adam. She could have been exploring Livorno with him earlier today. Instead, she had purposely stretched out her work to last all day long so she would not waste time second guessing her decision to call it quits.

Obviously her bid to keep her mind off Adam had failed miserably.

She could almost smell the hyssop in the air as she thought of him, the warm masculine scent plying her memories if not her nose. She put down her pencil to indulge herself for just one moment, the sound of the water jets humming in her ears.

“Don’t stop now,” a voice sounded over her shoulder, rich and deep. “I like watching you draw.”

Startled, she closed her notebook even as she realized who had entered the spa. Adam stood behind her, his hair damp as if from a recent shower or swim. He wore khakis and a blue pin-striped shirt without a tie. His sleeves had been rolled up and he looked like he carried a gym bag over one shoulder, although the candlelight made it difficult to see.

“Adam.” Her heart tripped at the sight of him and she became aware of her own attire. She had slid into a bathing suit for her trip to the spa, adding a sheer sarong wrap and a fat red rose tucked behind one ear to set the mood for creativity.

Creativity that he might have seen, even though she’d covered her sketchbook.

But then, did she really suspect Adam would be the kind of man to use her ideas against her the way Gunther once had? Adam’s company worked in a global marketplace and it hadn’t gotten there by stealing competitors’ ideas.

She needed to think for herself again and not pass every decision through the filter of Marcel’s judgment or her customers’ possible reaction. Had it really helped her to be so conservative the past two years?

“I don’t mean to interrupt, but—” He stopped, shaking his head. “Hell. Yes, I did. I’ve been looking for you because I don’t understand why we have to ignore each other the rest of the cruise when we were having what I would call a pretty damn good time together up until this morning.”

Danielle didn’t have the chance to say she could see his point because, he was already launching a new torrent of words.

“Call me crazy, but I thought we had a termination date in mind for this right from the beginning. We’re talking ten days together, Danielle, not a year or even a month.” He frowned, setting his gym bag on the deck as if to make sure she knew he wasn’t leaving. “The fact is, if I can’t manage to date one woman consistently for ten days, maybe I’m as much of a jackass player as those social pages would have you believe.”

“I can see where that would—”

“And since I can’t accept that depiction of myself, I’ve decided it’s time to fight for my rights.”

Danielle blinked, surprised at the new turn the conversation—more like a tirade, actually—had taken.

“Your rights?”

“Yes. I’d like to suggest we had a verbal agreement when we set up the ground rules for this relationship. Ten days. No strings.” He lowered himself on his knees to eye level with her. “Since this is only the sixth day at sea and I haven’t tried attaching any strings to our affair, I would like to suggest you haven’t held up your end of the bargain.”

“You are taking legal action?” Her mouth lifted at the corner in spite of his hard-headed tactics.

She had to give him points for a novel approach.

“Not yet.” He reached to touch the flower in her hair before he skimmed a finger down the side of her cheek. “I’m just giving you fair warning. I want the rest of the days we agreed on—starting tonight.”

A
DAM COULD ALMOST HEAR
his brother’s voice in his head reminding him that romance shouldn’t be a competitive sport. Yet here he was, using pushy tactics and making aggressive demands with a woman who deserved better. But damn it, he couldn’t pretend to be someone else with Danielle when she’d been deceived by men in her past.

Danielle tilted her head sideways to look at him, the strap of her bathing suit drooping off one shoulder as she put down her sketchbook. Only then did he realize he still touched her, his hand grazing her jaw as he crouched beside her, water steaming up all around them in the spa. He told himself he should back off now that he’d made his case. Unfortunately, listening to advice—even his own—wasn’t his strong suit.

“You think you are entitled to the rest of the days we were supposed to have together.” She seemed to still be weighing that request. “But you have to realize that life isn’t always fair. You could not have achieved so much in life if you believed otherwise.”

“Life may not be fair,” he agreed, “but I can improve my odds when I hold people accountable for the deals they make. And we agreed on a good time with no strings.”

She flipped her hair over one shoulder and pulled her legs out of the water to dry them off on a white spa towel. A woman dressed in a spa uniform hurried toward them to tell them the spa would be closing.

Danielle thanked the woman as she slid into an ankle-length silk bathrobe. “I could hold you accountable then, too, since I would argue that introducing a publicity-hungry ex-girlfriend into the mix counts as a string.”

Adam scooped up her sketchbook along with his gym bag, hoping she’d let him walk her to her room. Or his room. Hell, he’d settled for sitting at the bar with her.

“She wasn’t a string. More like a small wrinkle.”

Danielle cast a skeptical look his way and he thought maybe it would be best to change tactics.

“Okay. Maybe there were some stringlike qualities to that episode,” he admitted, holding out his arm for her. “Can I at least walk you back to your room while we renegotiate?”

“I suppose so.” She pointed out an elevator nearby and lightly took his arm.

He suppressed the urge to thump his chest with that small victory.

“Did you go ashore today?” He’d missed her. Missed seeing the sights with her the way they had in Rome.

“No time.” She pressed the button for her floor. “I worked all day. You?”

“Not the same without company. I worked on the golf simulator with Nordham for a while, though.”

As they arrived on her floor, she withdrew her key from her robe pocket. In the corridor they met a husband and wife Adam recognized from the fragrance conference.

Adam nodded at the couple, but they were both staring hard at Danielle as they passed without comment.

“What was that about?” Adam craned his neck around to watch the two, not caring if they overheard him.

“Remember I told you this is a small industry?” Danielle used her key to open the door. “I’m sure the rumor mill has been busy with gossip that I’m making a spectacle of myself.”

She gestured him inside, a fact he was grateful for even though most of his mental energy was being spent trying to figure out the implications of her being photographed with him.

“I don’t get it. You’re not allowed to date? How is being seen with me so scandalous?” He followed her inside her stateroom and set his gym bag down next to her sketchbook while she disappeared into the bedroom.

“It’s not dating that’s risqué, it’s the fact that I’m seen as somewhat of a publicity hound myself.” She spoke loudly enough for him to hear her in the living area even though she must have been changing clothes in the next room.

He did his best not to think about her naked while he ordered drinks and a few late-night appetizers from room service.

“The truth is out.” He finished the order and hit Exit on the TV screen. “You’ve only been hanging out with me for my eye candy appeal.” He wandered out on the balcony to wait for her.

She appeared beside him a few minutes later in a long white dress that tied around her neck, leaving her shoulders bare.

The pang of want that went through him made him catch his breath.

“Eye candy?” She leaned on the balcony rail as she looked out to sea. “The expression doesn’t translate so well, I am afraid.”

“Forget it.” He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “It wasn’t true anyway.”

“Well, I am one of the few fragrance company presidents who actively solicits business through my social crowd, and as much as others may look down their noses at my plebian way of doing business, it has been the most effective sales strategy I have.”

“People are jealous of your success.” Still, he hated the way that couple had looked at Danielle.

“It’s more than that.” She turned against the rail to meet his gaze, moonlight spilling over her and making her white dress glow. “My mother died while cliff diving with a boyfriend—a man younger than her. And because she was a painter and a rebel, an outsider in the industry, she had a bit of a reputation. It’s one I seem to have inherited because I look like my mother and share some of her more adventurous qualities.”

“She sounds like an amazing lady.” Adam covered her hand with his. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Ten years have come and gone, and I still miss her so much.” She blinked fast. Nodded. “I try to tell myself to be more like her and not care what the world says. But in truth, I want Les Rêves to succeed even more than she ever did. I can’t help but care about my image since it seems to reflect on the company.”

Room service arrived just then and Adam answered the door, asking the server to carry a tray outside. They waited for him to open the bottle of champagne Adam had ordered, along with fresh raspberries and a few other fruits and cheeses. And—being true to his roots—a longneck for him. Adam added a few berries to Danielle’s glass before the server poured her champagne and left them to their conversation.

“To Les Rêves.” Adam lifted his beer bottle to clink against her glass.

“And to ten-day affairs,” Danielle added before taking a sip.

Adam stilled.

“Can I take it you’re reconsidering the decision to end things early?” The surge of hopefulness surprised him, warning him he cared too much.

“I think at some point I need to reconcile who I am with who I’ve tried to be for the sake of Les Rêves.” She lifted her champagne glass to the moonlight, studying the bubbles surging past the short stack of red berries. “Maybe that time has come.”

“Well, hot damn.” He lifted his beer again. “I’ll drink to that.”

Danielle watched his throat contract with each swallow, his strong, masculine body a pleasure for the senses in so many ways. She might be foolish to reverse a decision made less than twenty-four hours ago, but the day had pounded into her the realization that she couldn’t go on running her life and her company by committee. She was in charge and she needed to start acting like it.

If Marcel couldn’t accept the unique spirit she brought to Les Rêves, she would offer to buy him out over time. He wasn’t happy and she was sorry for that. But she couldn’t afford to let him water down the way she wanted to run the company. Their mother may have willed them Les Rêves as a shared asset, but all along they’d agreed Danielle would be the president.

She needed to embrace that power before Les Rêves faded into mediocrity that would make neither of them happy.

“Tell me about your family, Adam. You said your brother is interested in taking over the business. Is your father in poor health? Does your mother have a role in any of the companies?” She would take this relationship deeper in the handful of days they had left together. Forge boldly into their affair and find out what drew her so strongly to this man. If all she took away was a little more self-knowledge and a whole lot of memories, how could she complain?

Any damage done to her professional reputation or her partnership with Marcel had already happened. Spending more time with Adam couldn’t make things worse at this point.

“My father is probably in better shape than me, but then he’s a big-time overachiever who throws himself into whatever catches his attention, and physical fitness is one of his interests. He travels constantly, buying up businesses, working his employees into the ground and working out in hotel gyms.”

“Sounds exhausting.” She didn’t protest when he poured her another glass of champagne, the vintage a perfect match for her mood. She stole a handful of raspberries from the room service tray and savored their tangy-sweet flavor.

“My dad’s a character.” Adam stole a few berries from her hand and set her glass on the teak table behind them. “My mother died of breast cancer when I was a teenager, and while Dad was fairly manic before that, he’s kept even busier since she died.”

“I’m so sorry to hear about your mother.” The answering pang in her heart reminded her how deeply it hurt to lose a parent, and Adam had been even younger than her when his mother died. “What was she like?”

Adam reached for the bowl of berries and held it between them. The moon cast a slice of white light across the water, and
Alexandra’s Dream
shimmered a misty silver. Activities on the lower decks were breaking up by now, the hard-core partiers heading for the casino or the wine bar.

The quiet of the sea and the night wrapped around them, cloaking their conversation in intimacy. Danielle tried to envision what Adam’s mother might have looked like. How proud she would have been to have raised the man standing before Danielle now.

“She was organized. Tough. A great match for my dad. She wouldn’t let him get away with dragging us on the road twelve months a year even though that’s how he wanted to live. She made sure we went to high school in one city, though other years we’d had tutors to accommodate my dad’s travel. Even when she was really sick, she called the shots when it came to my brother and me.”

“And she found you a palm-reading nanny.” Danielle picked a berry out of the bowl, but Adam took it from her and slipped it between her lips. “She sounds wonderful.”

A pleasurable shiver skipped down her spine at the sensation of his finger on her mouth.

“She was. My father started a foundation to benefit breast cancer research and a handful of other charities after Mom died. A percentage of the company’s profits go to the foundation.”

“You forgive your father his foibles because he works for a good cause.” She understood his family dynamic better now. Possibly she understood him better, too: the loss of his mother might have suppressed his desire to form a long-lasting relationship….

But why did she think about such things when they had firmly committed to their ten days? If Adam ever decided he wanted a long-term relationship, it certainly wouldn’t involve her. And yes, she could not deny that fact caused a stab of regret.

“Yes…” He lifted another raspberry to her mouth, the fruit hovering an inch away from her lips.

“But?” She nipped it from his fingers, stealing it away. She would concentrate on what they
could
share together instead of mourning things that would never be.

The rich flavors burst over her tongue, saturating her senses with ripe sweetness. The soft sea breeze pinned her skirt to her legs, teasing her skin with phantom touches even as it carried a hint of Adam’s scent. An aftershave, maybe, or a soap.

“The good cause—the foundation—doesn’t have to shackle me to one particular job.” He seemed to be informing himself as much as her. She didn’t know how she understood that, but something in his tone told her he was only just arriving at that conclusion.

“You could donate the proceeds from any endeavor you chose.” She wondered if she was losing her touch that he could still be talking about business when her senses were so keenly attuned to him. Dipping into the nearly empty bowl of fruit, she pulled out a small berry and brushed the skin lightly across his lower lip, rolling it beneath her fingers.

“If you ask me,” she told him, leaning closer, “you simply need to explore your passions.”

He seemed to remember her then, judging by the dark look in his eyes. A flame seemed to light his pupils from within now, the night narrowing to just the two of them on her balcony in the moonlight.

With surprising quickness he pulled the berry into his mouth, swallowing it before he gently clamped her finger between his teeth. The bowl he’d held clattered to rest on a deck lounger as he turned toward her. Into her.

The feel of his teeth sinking softly into her skin tantalized her, making her think about all the ways they could please each other. When a small moan escaped her lips, he released her finger and reached for her hips.

“Guess which passion is first on my list?”

She was too delirious with the feel of his hands on her hips to speak. The heat of his palms penetrated her dress and the decadent silk lingerie she’d slipped on after her trip to the hot tub.

Adam curled his fingers into her flesh with gentle, insistent pressure, pinning her body against his until she felt every square inch of him. His lips grazed her ear, his words soft but distinct.

“If you guess fruit-flavored French women, you’d be right.”