The Millionaire Meets His Match (6 page)

“Absolutely,” he said.

“Good.” He glanced from Bob to Trish to the lawyer. “We're finished here.”

“I suppose,” Thompson said, dropping his own notepad into his thin briefcase. “I'll expect your report within the month.”

“You'll get it next week,” Adam said briskly, holding out his hand. “Have a good day.”

“Well.” He shook Adam's hand. “You do the same.”

They watched Thompson walk back to his car, then Bob turned to Adam. “Next week might be cutting it close, but we'll aim for it.”

“I want it done,” Adam said. “If you have any problems with the crew, I want to hear about it immediately.”

“There won't be any problems,” Bob said determinedly as he put his small, digital camera back in his pocket. “I'll e-mail you the photos as soon as I'm back in my office. And I'll find out exactly who was responsible for all the mistakes.”

“I know you will,” Adam said, shaking hands with the contractor. “Thanks, Bob.”

“It was great to meet you, Bob,” Trish said.

“Nice meeting you, too, Trish,” Bob said, shaking her hand. Then she and Adam watched him head back to the construction trailer parked on the periphery of the resort property.

“Let's get up to the lodge,” Adam said, placing his hand on the small of her back and leading her away from the parking structure. “It's freezing out here.”

“I'm glad I'm not the only one who noticed,” Trish said, but now she wasn't sure if her shivers were from the weather or from his touch.

As he guided her along the bark-covered shortcut to the lodge, Adam pointed out the beginnings of several trails to be used for cross-country skiing and snowshoeing once the snow began to fall. The downhill skiing trail was just a short hike away.

“It's so beautiful,” Trish said, stopping to look in every direction.

“I think so,” Adam said gruffly, looking right at her.

Trish felt herself blushing and would've looked away, but how could she? It was as if he were a magnet and she were metal. His eyes were so blue and knowing, so aware of everything. Did he know what she was thinking? What she wanted?

Trish blinked. What was wrong with her? She still couldn't believe she was here in this place with him. When she'd first seen that letter from the ADA lawyer, she wished she'd been the one to alert the man about the problems at the resort. It would've been sweet revenge indeed against Adam Duke. But after hearing Adam talk about the handicapped kids he'd known at the orphanage, she was glad she'd had nothing to do with
it. It almost broke her heart to know Adam had spent part of his childhood so lonely and alone.

She was still determined to seek justice and closure. She owed that much to Grandma Anna and the others. But she wouldn't do it on the painful memories of a lonely child living in an orphanage.

There was no sign of that childhood pain now as she stared at Adam and saw the stark hunger in his eyes. Then the starkness disappeared as Adam glanced around the trail.

“Serenity Lake is just beyond the main building,” he said, casually pointing over her shoulder as if they hadn't just shared a special, lust-filled moment. “We'll be able to see it from the lodge. In summer and fall, there's boating, kayaking, canoeing, fishing, hiking, bird watching, mountain biking. We also offer yoga, croquet, tennis, golf and horseback riding.”

“Wow.”

He grimaced. “I sound like a travel agent, don't I?”

She laughed. “Yes, you do. But I'm sold. This place is fantastic.”

Trish stared up at the magnificent Arts and Crafts-style resort that rose six stories up the side of the mountain. Fantasy was a perfect name for it. The stone and timber façade, dark wood gables and carved willow balconies offset the forest-green pitched roof, covered walkways and tall stone chimneys. The overall effect was stunning, rustic yet aristocratic.

“It's amazing,” she said.

“Wait'll you see the inside,” Adam said, grabbing her hand to take her up the wide plank stairs and through the impressive double-door entrance.

“It's…” Trish slowly spun around to take in the massive main lodge. The huge fireplace at one end of the
room was tall enough that Trish could walk inside it. She wouldn't, of course, since there was a roaring fire warming the space. But it was certainly big.

Throughout the room, golden brown leather chairs and sofas were grouped around hand-built twig tables. Thick carpets covered the hardwood floors and wide wood beams stretched across the immense cathedral ceiling. The walls were exposed timbers, bleached, then varnished to a rich, warm hue.

“It's dazzling,” she said finally.

He chuckled. “Why don't you have a seat by the fire? I'll check where they put our bags and get the keys to our rooms for the night, then we'll take a tour, meet the chef and have dinner.”

She stopped in her tracks. “Our rooms? Dinner? Aren't we flying back?”

“It's after four o'clock and we still have work to do here,” he explained. “We'll spend the night and go back tomorrow morning. That way you can meet with the chef and we can talk about the opening.”

“But that's crazy,” Trish said before she could stop herself. “I can't spend the night here with you.”

He studied her for a moment. “Is it spending the night away from home that worries you or the fact that you're here with me?”

“Neither,” she said hastily. “I'm not worried. I'm just…hmm.”

He moved closer and seemed to grow taller, stronger, before her eyes. “We're here to work, not play.”

“I know,” she whispered.

He was close enough that she could smell his scent, a heady combination of forest, citrus and Oh, dear lord, leather. If she moved another inch, their mouths would meet. It was tempting.

“Are you afraid of me?” he asked quietly.

She tried to laugh, but her throat was too dry. “Don't be silly.”

“Because I assure you, Trish. You're in no danger from me.”

“Of course not.” She smiled weakly.

He stared at her face for another moment, looking for signs of what? Fear? She gave him her best blank look. He nodded once and went off to get the keys. Sinking into a plush leather chair near the warm fire, Trish swallowed uneasily. In no danger from him? Was he serious? Or simply blind? Oh, if he only knew how much danger she was in. She just hoped he would never find out.

A
fter a tour of the lodge and the behind-the-scenes facilities, Adam introduced Trish to Jean Pierre, the head chef. Together with the hotel and restaurant managers, they all sat down to discuss opening-night strategies. After an hour, Adam ended the meeting and took Trish off to enjoy dinner in the resort's most elegant restaurant.

Adam had already explained to Trish that although the resort wasn't yet open to the public, the entire staff was up and running at full power these last few weeks until the official opening. The kitchen prepared meals throughout the day and the waitstaff served them to other employees with the same professionalism they would show to a paying guest. The same procedure was followed by the other departments throughout the hotel, and everything was observed and graded by the management team.

When it came to running their resorts, the Dukes preferred to leave nothing to chance.

And when it came to seducing beautiful women, Adam Duke left nothing to chance, either.

It had occurred to him as he was picking up their room keys, that his strategy with Trish could use some fine-tuning. So far, she was playing the model employee, pretending confusion and uncertainty when he'd informed her they'd be spending the night in this remote, beautiful place. He'd ostensibly played right into her hands, practically delivering himself on a silver platter for her enjoyment. So why hadn't she taken the bait?

Why was she continuing to act so coy?

You'd never know she had her sights set on him, he thought with some disgust. She was obviously playing hard to get, but the goody-goody act was no longer working for him. He would have to find a way to break through her charade. He wanted to look into her eyes and see her hunger, her craving, her need for him.

That's when he would make his move.

Adam had been in the corporate world a long time and his business instincts were well-honed. He knew how to stoke the fires of desire—in both business and pleasure. He was aware that the surest way to drive up both price and demand was to make it clear that the item was unavailable.

It worked in property development, in sales and acquisitions—and it would work with Trish. With that in mind, Adam decided that he would be the one to play hard to get. He would wine and dine and flatter and cajole and work her into such a state of frenzied need that she would be the one to proposition him. And then he would decide whether to say yes or no.

And because he was such a nice guy, he would probably say yes. Make that
hell,
yes.

Accompanying Trish into the dining room, Adam stood close enough to hear her breath catch as he touched her shoulder. He felt her heartbeat flutter as his fingers glided over the pulse point of her wrist. He wondered what she was thinking. Was she as attracted to him as he was to her? Oh sure, she wanted him as a husband, but did she want him as a lover? If so, she was playing it awfully damn cool.

He looked forward to turning up the heat.

They were led to a beautifully set table in front of the wide, plate-glass window overlooking the shimmering lake. As Adam pulled out her chair, he deliberately touched the small of her back, then let his hand glide up to her neck as she sat down. He was pleased to feel her back arch in response, as though she wanted more.

He would not disappoint her.

As Trish gazed at the view, dusk turned to dark and the world outside the window turned magical. She gasped as strategically designed outdoor lighting twinkled to life, accenting the beauty of the nearby forest and surrounding mountains. All of it was reflected in the serene surface of the lake.

“It's so perfect,” she said, gazing across the table at him.

“I'm glad you like it,” he said, admiring the way her brown hair tumbled loosely around her shoulders and her green eyes sparkled in the candlelight.

“How could anyone not love it?” She smiled dreamily as she placed her napkin in her lap. “If I were you, I'd never want to leave.”

Adam was glad he'd arranged in advance to have the stylish restaurant all to themselves. It should've felt odd
or eerie to be the only diners, but it didn't. The room was beautiful and well-lit. Willow screens and feathery trees in large pots were used to create intimate dining spaces. The staff was attentive, yet discreet.

Again leaving nothing to chance, Adam had contacted Jean Pierre over the weekend and requested that the chef prepare an extensive tasting menu consisting of those items he was considering serving at the opening-night gala.

For the next two hours, Adam and Trish tasted tiny skewers of tender grilled baby vegetables and savory meats along with a wonderful assortment of delicate canapés. Tiny pancake pillows topped with smoked salmon, crème fraiche and dill, bite-sized pieces of rare roast beef in a pastry crust accompanied by dipping sauces of creamy, homemade horseradish and a savory chutney. There were decadent sauces, fluffy patés and fragile mini-soufflés.

To accompany the hors d'oeuvres, there were six different champagnes to choose from and a number of vintages of cabernet sauvignon to sip and enjoy.

The conversation was enjoyable, as well. Adam found Trish's opinions stimulating and thoughtful, so they had a spirited discussion on a number of issues. They discovered a mutual appreciation of both vintage jazz and the Sunday comics. She had a sense of humor and she was smart and most important, loyal.

When the conversation finally wound around to the issues plaguing the resort, Trish wondered aloud just how the construction snafu might have occurred. She offered to assist Bob with his investigation of the subsidiary that had cut corners.

“When the truth emerges,” she said, shaking her finger at him, “heads will roll.”

“I'm glad you're on my side,” he said, chuckling.

“Oops,” she murmured, realizing what she'd said. “I think I've had too much champagne.”

“But you're having fun, aren't you?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “Everything is just beautiful. Thank you for including me in your evening.”

“I had no intention of dining without you.” He sipped his wine. “But now I have to ask, why were you so concerned about staying overnight up here? Do you have a boyfriend waiting at home?”

“Good heavens, no.”

He was relieved to hear her say so. “A hot date maybe?”

She frowned. “No, of course not.”

“Why ‘of course not'? Don't you date? You're a beautiful woman.”

Despite the soft candlelight, Adam could see Trish's cheeks turn pink.

“You shouldn't say things like that,” she said.

“Even if it's true?” Adam teased. His grin faded as he sipped his wine. “Were you nervous about being alone with me?”

She glanced around the room as if she might be looking for the waitstaff. “We're not alone.”

He leaned in. “Yes, we are.”

Biting her lower lip, she looked around again, then straightened up and gazed directly at him. “No, of course I'm not nervous about being alone with you. You're my boss. I know I'm perfectly safe with you.”

He studied her. “I wish I could say the same.”

“What do you mean?”

“I'm not sure how safe I am around you.”

She swallowed. “Don't be silly.”

“You're dangerous to my peace of mind.”

Her brow furrowed. “But I'm…I'm harmless.”

“Hardly,” he said with a grin, then let her off the hook by changing the subject. “Did you grow up around Dunsmuir Bay?”

She hesitated, then said, “Yes.”

He chuckled. “You don't sound sure about it.”

She raised her chin. “I grew up down by the pier, with my grandmother.”

“Oh, yeah?” Adam said, relaxing back in his chair. “I like that area.”

“Yes, I loved living there.”

“You moved?”

“Yes.” She looked away, unwilling to say more.

It sounded to Adam as if there might be more to the story but he didn't push. Instead, he held his glass up, determined to lighten the mood. “Let's have a toast. To Fantasy.”

Trish managed a smile as she tapped her glass to his. “To Fantasy.” She took a sip, then put the glass down and groaned. “Everything has been delicious, but I can't put one more thing in my mouth.”

A vivid image of what else she might do with her mouth almost brought Adam out of his seat. It was absurd. What was it about this woman that made his libido behave as if he hadn't gotten laid in five years? Perhaps it was because he knew they'd come together soon. Very soon, he'd be able to bury himself in her warm depths. It wouldn't be soon enough to suit him or his raging erection, however.

Had he honestly thought he could wait for her to make the first move? Impossible.

He was about to suggest that it was time to go, when Jean Pierre emerged from the kitchen with several small platters and began to explain all the desserts he'd chosen
for them. Adam's ardor was effectively extinguished, probably a good thing.

Trish's eyes grew wider with each little morsel the chef pointed to. After he left them alone, she stared at Adam in dismay.

“This is crazy,” she whispered. “Seriously, I can't eat another bite.”

“I'm not sure I can, either, but we don't want to hurt Jean Pierre's feelings.” Adam speared a succulent miniature fruit tart with his dessert fork and held it out for her to taste. “Just one more bite?”

She moaned and rubbed her stomach. “I can't do it.”

“But how will we know if it's suitable for the gala?”

“Why don't you taste it?” she asked.

“Because I'm the boss and I say it's your job to taste the desserts.”

Trish laughed. “I'm not sure I've ever seen that rule in the employee handbook.”

Adam chuckled. “Okay, then do it for Jean Pierre.”

“Oh, all right.” She took a deep breath. “This is for Jean Pierre.”

“Good girl,” Adam said, moving the fork closer. “One little taste.”

She took the bite and licked her lips. “Mmm, it's really delicious.”

Beguiled, Adam scooped a small spoonful of creamy chocolate mousse and held it out for her to sample. “One more bite, babe. Open wide.”

“Okay,” she said, smiling. “but only because it's chocolate.”

“That's my girl,” he murmured.

Time stood still as he watched her close her eyes, open her mouth and take the bite. Then she sighed.

“Oh.” She licked her lips and moaned. “Oh, my God. Oh, it's fabulous.” She swallowed, then licked her lips again.

In an instant, Adam's body was tight and aching. So much for playing hard to get. He wanted her with a need that burned right through him. In his current condition, he'd never make it out of the restaurant alive. Fine with him. He'd send the staff home, then make love to Trish right here.

So much for his grand scheme of withholding sex until she begged for it. He was the one who would beg her if he had to. Without even trying, she was the sexiest woman he'd ever met.

She was saying something, but he couldn't hear her. All the blood that might've helped his brain function had recognized a more urgent need and rushed to his body's lower half.

Adam tossed his napkin on the table and stood. “Let's go,” he said, almost growling the command.

“Don't we have to pay the bill first?”

“I own the place, sweetheart.” He came around to pull her chair out. “There is no bill.”

“I guess I really am tired if I forgot that.” She smiled up at him.

But on the way out, she insisted on stopping to thank everyone who'd waited on them, then poked her head into the kitchen and called out her gratitude to Jean Pierre, who came running over to kiss her on both cheeks and thank her profusely.

She had a way of making everyone feel special, including Adam, he thought as he led her out of the
restaurant. He was beginning to wonder just exactly who was seducing whom.

 

Riding up in the elevator, Trish could barely breathe. Her heart raced and she shivered with pleasure, he was standing so close. She should've backed away and cut herself off from his touch, but she couldn't bear to. Not yet. Once they were back in Dunsmuir Bay and reality set in, she would deal with these forbidden emotions. But right now she simply wanted to concentrate on his masculine scent, feel the soft pressure of his arm against hers, appreciate his tall, confident stance and wonder how it would feel to be wrapped up in his arms.

She shivered again.

“You're cold,” he said, shrugging off his jacket and slinging it over her shoulders. Then he put his arm around her and pulled her closer. “The mountain air can sneak up on you.”

“Thank you,” she murmured, wondering if he'd read her mind. If so, couldn't he see that it wasn't the cold making her shiver? Good grief, she was burning up—couldn't he feel it? But it felt so good to be pressed against his hard body, she never wanted him to stop holding her.

Even though she knew it didn't mean anything. Could
never
mean anything. He was just being polite, after all.

Trish made an effort to keep her thoughts casual as she glanced around the elevator. Even in this small space, the hotel's rustic style prevailed, with a charming bench to sit on and kitschy antler sconces on the walls.

There had been a few times during dinner when she thought Adam might be attracted to her, thought he might even be tempted to kiss her good-night. But he
was all business now, holding himself rigid even though he had his arm around her. It was just as well. She had no business thinking they could ever be more to each other than boss and assistant. And, lest she forget, she still had her mission to accomplish, even though at the moment, she could barely remember what that mission was.

It must've been the champagne, or maybe the chocolate mousse. She wasn't thinking clearly at all.