Burned Deep (7 page)

A sense of exclusivity enveloped the property, the kind that created in people of lesser good fortune the mysterious yearning to be a part of something beyond their reach.

We passed through the guards' booth at the gate and took the winding stone driveway lined with trees and beautifully crafted fountains to the enormous circular entrance, surrounded by more manicured lawns, topiary hedges, and waterfalls. Being one of those people of lesser good fortune, I stared out the window in complete awe.

The resort itself was sensational, even in its reported state of late construction, of which there was no evidence in the front. The lobby was four stories of large, symmetrically shaped windows, all illuminated with a golden glimmer that came from chandeliers so huge I could see them from the drive.

Full vines climbed the stone walls, strategically placed, impeccably arranged. I'd expected a fancy porte cochere out front but then realized a ramada would detract the eye from all the grandeur. Clearly, I wasn't the only one who'd deduced that.

All in all, I was thoroughly mind blown. And I hadn't even gotten out of the gleaming Jag yet.

A valet swooped in, already in uniform despite the hotel not being open. He wore stylish black tails with white gloves. I instantly felt underdressed, though I loved the mini and had spent enough money on it to give myself heart palpitations.

Damn—shown up by a valet.
I should have pulled out my prom dress from the closet in the spare bedroom.

But no, that would have been complete overkill.

Unless, of course, Dane sported a tux, too.

Panic slithered down my spine. I really had no idea what I was getting myself into with him. This was supposed to be a job interview, right? Except that it was also dinner, and I'd dressed
that
part, hadn't I? I should have played it safe and simple and worn a business suit.

As I waded through my confused thoughts, the spiffed-to-the-hilt gentleman opened my door and greeted me with a friendly smile. “Welcome, Miss DeMille.”

I slipped from the leather seat, staring up at the gorgeous facade of 10,000 Lux.

“Mr. Bax is waiting for you just inside the entrance. I'll escort you.”

My breathing turned shallow. I hoped like hell I didn't botch this. I was already nervous over the fact that I'd applied for a position here and, of course, seeing Dane.

Or, more accurately, having dinner with Dane. Being alone with Dane. Being within fifty feet of Dane.

I had no delusions; I knew I was in over my head. Did that stop me from proceeding with caution? No. I was too sexually charged, too intrigued, to give in to my wary side.

The valet pulled open one of the tall wood-trimmed glass doors and gestured for me to lead the way. I stepped into the lobby, doing everything in my power to appear calm and collected. No-go, really.

Holy shit.

There he stood.

Dane Bax.

I couldn't breathe again.

Only he could outshine and outclass his surroundings.

I could probably come up with some clever and evocative words to describe the inside of 10,000 Lux. At the moment, all I saw was the veined creamy marble floor that led straight to Dane. It took several seconds for anything else to register.

He stood alongside a gorgeous round mahogany table that served as the focal point of the lobby and that likely would fill my living and dining room combo. A gold, silver, and copper-painted vase about as tall as I was in heels stood sentinel in the middle of the table, filled with ecru blooms and dripping verdant leaves. Above it hung the mammoth chandelier. Others decorated the ornately designed ceiling, defying gravity throughout the cavernous reception area. All impressive, but the main fixture was a showstopper.

My wide-eyed gaze dropped to Dane. He glanced up from his iPhone and our gazes locked. He grinned. The ultra-sexy one that was really just the hint of a smile.

My heart skipped a few necessary beats.

“Good evening,” he said in a somewhat formal tone.

I lost my voice again.

The grin deepened—he must have known he left me speechless.

He took several long strides toward me, since I'd barely made it through the doors when I'd gone into shock. Everything was just so … perfect.

Especially him.

Dressed in a black suit with a pewter shirt opened at the neck, he was devilishly handsome. His hair was a tousled mess, wildly stylish. His emerald eyes glowed warmly, invitingly.

“That will be all, Brandon,” he said to the valet, dismissing him.

“Of course. If you need anything, Mr. Bax, I'll be right out front.”

Not that he had guests to assist. Must be a quick slip outside for discretionary purposes.

“Are you all right?” Dane asked as he regarded me closely.

“Sure,” I managed to say. Then, hoping to break the ice, I added, “Should I be wearing a hard hat?”

He chuckled, low and deep. The sound resonated within me, heightening my arousal. How was that even possible? I was absurdly turned on from just the sight of him.

“You're safe, I assure you. The construction's complete in the main building. We're just finishing decorating of the suites upstairs and the penthouse. The casitas on the back portion of the property and the indoor aquatic center and its two restaurants are still being built.”

“I was thinking more along the lines of the chandelier.” I spared another glance at the one we stood under. “Looks like it'd wipe out an entire village if it fell.”

“I promise it's not going anywhere.”

“Right. Okay.” Butterflies got the best of me. I was nothing but a bundle of nerves—not all of them emotionally jumping. Most of them were sizzling and snapping at the hint of his cologne wafting under my nose and the fact that Dane Bax had the most spellbinding presence I'd ever encountered.

He stepped aside and said, “Shall we?”

I finally noted that he'd kept a respectable distance when he'd joined me. Not crowding me at all. And he didn't take my hand or offer his arm.

He'd seen my reaction to Kyle Jenns when he'd reached for me—not to mention everyone else who'd laid a hand on me the day of the Delfino-Aldridge wedding. He'd come to my rescue because of it all.

Clearly, he'd picked up on my minimal-touching stance. A thought that really should have pleased me. So why didn't it?

Because you want
him
to touch
you.

All. Over.

Good point.

Regardless, I maintained a few feet between us and started walking.

“Up the stairs to the mezzanine,” he instructed, following along with a slow, measured gait.

I eyed the elegant sweeping staircases on either side of the main portion of the lobby and asked, “Does it matter which one?”

“No. We're heading straight out to the veranda.”

I ascended the marble steps, holding on to the fancy black wrought-iron banister because my legs shook a little from nervous anxiety—or were my knees weak from Dane?

“Did you design this place yourself?” I asked.

“Yes. Over the course of several years and with help from engineers and architects, naturally.”

I wanted to ask him how someone so young could afford to finance such extravagance but that seemed rude. And I wasn't sure I wanted to know the answer. I was already sufficiently overwhelmed and intimidated by everything about him.

Except that his disconcertion over the money comment he'd made while we'd waited for our cars at the resort still ate at me. There was something there, something to latch on to. I just didn't know what it was and that perplexed me greatly.

I tried to stay on safe ground. “What about the name?” I inquired. “I suspect it's not Lux as in
luxury,
though this is certainly the very definition of posh. The pinnacle of it, really.”

He kept a span of two steps between us. Not that I could breathe any easier because of it, but at least I could speak now.

His eyes held a roguish shimmer. “What do you think it means, then?”

I smiled. “
Lux
is an industry term. Well, in audio-visual, that is. It's the luminance of light boxes or projectors. Ten-thousand lux is the equivalent of full daylight on a surface. Brilliant light.”

He grinned again. An appreciative one. “You catch on quick. Very few others get it—just my A-V guys.”

“Hmm.” I figured that was one more exclusionary element to this breathtaking venue. “Clever.”

He winked. My pulse shot through the roof.

We reached the mezzanine and he directed me through more intricately trimmed doors to a long terrace with the same railing as the stairway and outer fencing, rounded where a portion of the veranda jutted out in a semicircle over the magnificent courtyard.

This particular spot was just the one to show off the vast grounds and striking outbuildings. I couldn't even fathom how many acres the resort sat on. It was like we'd entered another world. A glittery, astounding one that boggled the mind. Disneyland wasn't this magical. And, wouldn't you know it? The clouds had thinned out for the remainder of the sunset and it was as awe inspiring as everything else surrounding us.

“What do you think?” Dane asked in a quiet voice.

“I think you're a genius.”

He chuckled. I stared at him over my shoulder.

“I was hoping you'd like it.”

“What's not to like?” I asked.

“Indeed.” His gaze turned smoldering and I knew he wasn't talking about the resort. “You fit in here.”

Flames danced along my skin at his sensual look. My internal temperature soared, even though it was a balmy seventy degrees outside. He moved next to me and rested a forearm on the railing, casual and yet … so engaging. My eyes followed his graceful movements.

“I'm trying to be cool and not trip on these shoes as I take it all in,” I admitted.

“You're doing just fine.”

“I'm used to thicker heels, mostly because they don't get stuck in the grass like tent spikes during outdoor weddings and garden receptions.”

And there I went again … rambling.

“Doesn't matter what you're wearing. Though that dress is sensational. Interesting color choice.” He gave me a knowing look.

I flushed. “I happen to like green.”

“Hmm,” he said, using my own vague response. Apparently, he'd deduced why I'd chosen this particular garment. He stared awhile longer, an all-consuming gaze that sparked a peculiar yearning deep within me. Then he pushed away from the ledge and moved past me, pausing to lean in—close enough that his very essence surrounded me despite him not being
too
close—and said, “You're stunning.” He strolled off.

I stood where I was, the yearning becoming a dull ache that pulsed erratically in my pussy, a radiant longing for something elusive. It was almost painful—because I liked how my body responded to Dane. Even though I knew I shouldn't.

I turned and joined him at one of the pretty glass-top tables set for two. Candles were lit all around us. I heard for the first time the sultry sound of muted trumpets and the soul-stirring wail of a saxophone drifting on the night air. I couldn't seem to notice anything beyond him when he stood next to me.

Dane held out a chair for me, then sat at the opposite side of the table. Another tuxedo-clad man appeared and gently placed a linen napkin in my lap and offered me champagne.

“That would be nice. Thank you.” He disappeared. I asked Dane, “Isn't this a bit much, a bit unorthodox? I mean, for a job interview…?”

Though I supposed it wasn't totally unconventional. I'd had plenty of dinners and lunches with prospective clients. We usually sealed the deal over dessert and espresso.

With his sigh-worthy grin, he said, “I like it when you're all breathless and wide-eyed. I thought this place might do that to you.”

“You think it's the hotel?”

His grin turned devilish. Something sexy and evocative flickered in his eyes. A shiver ran down my spine. I was perfectly aware I was playing with fire—and could easily get burned. But I couldn't seem to help myself.

The server returned a few minutes later with a freestanding chiller.

“Watch this,” Dane said, a hint of intrigue in his voice. “Miyanaga is an expert at serving champagne.”

The other man stood back from the table and made a production out of removing the foil and wire cage with precise movements. Then he whipped out a short sword from the sheath I hadn't even realized was strapped to his waist. He pointed the bottle toward the grounds, away from us, and placed the blade flat against the seam, sliding it slowly up to the flange. Then he swiftly and efficiently sabered the neck.

The cork went flying, Miyanaga bowed, and I clapped enthusiastically. I was certain someone had been hired specifically to retrieve the corks from the courtyard—and probably had a haughty French title to go with the position.

To Dane, I said, “How'd I know this wouldn't be a normal evening?”

 

chapter 4

Mischief made Dane's eyes sparkle. “Life's too short to settle for normal.”

I cringed.
I
was normal. There was absolutely nothing extraordinary about me. Except that I could take ten hodgepodge ideas and turn them into one glamorous or intimate spot-on wedding.

Yet the way Dane looked at me, the way he
watched
me, made me feel as though he actually did find something fascinating here. I wished he'd tell me what it was.

Miyanaga wrapped a linen napkin around the bottle and splashed a sample of champagne into a delicate flute for me to sip.

“Cristal,” I ventured, having a fairly defined palate, given my profession.

He revealed the label and I nodded my approval. He poured for both of us.

Dane tipped the rim of his glass to mine and said, “To your health—
à
votre santé
.”