Heating Up Hawaii (8 page)

“No.” He hesitated. “Not at first. I do need help with this resort, but the way you’ve talked about canceling your wedding.” He cleared his throat, “I thought that since you are disenchanted with the whole institution—”

“That I’m an easy lay, because I didn’t believe in my doomed marriage?” She felt her temper rise. “I don’t know what I believe in these days, but it isn’t in you, Luc.”

“Be honest. I’ve been thinking about the same thing you have,” he said, defiance dripping on his voice.

She closed her eyes momentarily. A growing anger skated up her body and knotted her throat. She rubbed her temples with her fingers in a failed attempt to calm her nerves. Wanting to avoid blurting out all the emotions that were about to choke her.

Who was she? She was a woman with her feet dug deep in the sand, raising her voice like a fool, while Luc had the power of overtaking the conversation with a simple glance.

Penny opened her eyes with a start. Not anymore. She wasn’t going to run away from this conversation solely to give him the upper hand and cowardly secure her position. “Have you? Because the only thing on my mind is how I need for this assignment to go problem-free so I can get a list of references from you.”

His jaw clenched. “Why is that list so important? I’m sure you must have some kind of clientele, working for Charles.”

“Because I want to leave his firm, but I need some good contacts. I won’t take any of my current clientele, it wouldn’t be ethical. When he learns I’ve started my own boutique PR firm, he’ll drag my name in the mud anyway,” she blurted out.

She raised her hand to cover her mouth, but it was too late. She’d told him, of all people, her plan. In a perfect world, to share her professional ambitions with Luc would be natural–after all, if there was a soul capable of understanding her desire for professional independence and self-reliance, by God, it had to be him.

However, the lack of sympathy in his eyes warned her that the world was far from perfect.

“Charles wanted to fire you. He hasn’t because he doesn’t want to hurt his son. And you are working toward leaving the firm.” He concluded.

“I asked to leave after the cancelation. Since I had some big accounts then, Charles asked me to stay. I agreed and offered to pay for all the cancelation fees for the wedding.”

He crossed his arms, and his dominant figure stood against the sun like a bronze sculpture. She instantly thought of those statues she’d seen when she backpacked in Europe, with confident lions and big manes that reminded her of the gladiator era. “How self-sacrificing of you.”

She could have slapped him right there and then.

“Will you also take a step back from the friendship Darren has imposed on you?”

“I’ll keep in touch, but I’d like to see less of him, yes. We can’t be friends right now.”

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner that you plan on opening your own firm?” Strained resentment oozed from his voice.

“I didn’t see the point.” She shrugged but a strong, cold chuckle from his cynical lips made her believe she wasn’t getting away with it. “Okay, I was afraid you’d try to mess it up.” She forced her tremulous lips into a smile. “Which is stupid anyway. Right?”

He took one step toward her, studying her face. “You called me names in the past because I’d asked you not to broadcast about our affair just so I could get the opportunity I’d been waiting for. You made it seem as if I was the evil bad man, asking you for discretion when it was so obvious I needed it. And now, you tell me that you’ve been using your ex-fiancé to keep a job just to stab him in the back when he’s no longer needed.” He threw the words at her like rocks.

Penny shook her head. “It’s not like that. I canceled my wedding, but that had nothing to do with my skills at the firm.”

“We are not that different, Penelope.” His left eye twitched.

“I am not using Darren. He’s going through a rough patch and I can’t afford to be selfish. However I told him reconciling wasn’t an option. I never led him on. What you did to me was different.”

“How?” He raised his voice.

How?

“Can’t you see it, Luc?” she cursed herself inside when her voice broke. “I loved you. I stupidly fell in love with you, and you wanted to turn my feelings for you into a hidden secret. I could keep the secrecy, but for me to hear from Allegra how she wanted you and not to say anything about us? I’m not that cold blooded.”

“Do you know that it took me a whole year until I found someone else to pitch my business idea to? An entire year, Penelope.”

“I didn’t know.” She crossed her arms. Just as certain as the seagull that flew above the coconut tree, just as certain as the hard seashells leaving their imprint against the shore only to be washed away, she knew they would never see eye to eye.

“I’m sorry that you had to wait, Luc.” She unfolded her arms, the damp palm of her hand rubbing against the other.

He glared at her, his eyes remote and distant. Then he stepped away.

“Waiting for things is no longer an option for me.” He threw the words at her like stones, only to turn around and leave. She picked her shoes from the sand and clasped her hands around them. Why wasn’t she relieved?

***

“Where is he?” Penny asked Brad, who had been assisting the cameraman in finding a good place for the interview. They’d all agreed on the lounging area located in the colorful gardens, with a beautiful infinite view of the ocean. A clear vase with long, pink orchids accented the low timber table surrounded by luxurious oversize wooden chairs.

“He just flew in and went to his room to change,” Brad answered.

“To change, huh?” said Brooke Okole, the reporter who could easily moonlight as a swimsuit model. Brooke checked her flawless makeup for the third time with her small mirror.

The cameraman gave them the thumbs up. “The lighting is perfect. We can’t wait much longer.”

Penny nodded. The weather was agreeable; the sun potent but not overbearing.

“They’ve already shot indoors. Now all they need is Luc for the interview. I’ve tried calling him in his room, but no answer.” Brad stepped closer. Two days had gone by, two days in which she hadn’t heard from Luc as he traveled somewhere to do something which really didn’t matter to her.

“I’ll go get him.” Penny said.

“Are you sure?” Brad queried, friendly concern lacing his voice. Since walking in on them, Brad hadn’t asked her anything, and she had been too wrapped around her own feelings to bother to explain.

“I am sure, Brad,” she said firmly. What she didn’t want was for anyone to tiptoe around her because of Luc. For anyone to think she’d be unwilling to perform her duties just because of a personal matter. That had been her Achilles heel before, and she’d be damned if she let it happen again. She couldn’t afford to.

Off to the lion’s den.
Well, to the hell with whatever had happened. They were adults and professionals, and had to get along somehow. Plus, as his PR she needed to see what he wore, to make sure it blended with the tone she wanted to set for the interview. She needed to show her skills more than ever.

She took a deep breath before knocking firmly on his door.

Nothing. She knocked again, and no response.

She tapped her heel on the floor.

Maybe he’s in the shower.
She shook her head, shutting out the images of his naked body underneath a steamy downpour of water. She was about to knock again, when the door swung open, and her hand hung mid-air. Luc wore a nicely tailored gray business suit, his hair pushed back and his face shaved. He looked prim and proper, although the dark gleam in his eyes warned her otherwise.

“We’ve been waiting for you at the gardens, for the interview. We’ve called.” Her voice had a pang of annoyance, hiding all the effects he provoked in her. The endless flutter in her stomach. All her nerves on full alert. Her nostrils, intoxicated by his freshly showered scent.

“Of course.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I was on a conference call.” He opened the door wide, and returned inside. She followed.

He reached to turn off his laptop, and her eyes trailed down his suit and handmade Italian leather shoes. “I don’t like what you’re wearing.”

He frowned. “I can live with that.”

“No. I mean, it’s too formal. We are setting an informal tone, so you’ll look more approachable.” If he hadn’t arrived so late on the day of the interview, she would have gone over that with him. But due to his distant expression, this was not the best time to rub that in his face. Maybe later. “May I go in your closet?”

He nodded with a sigh, obviously annoyed. The woman in her knew he’d look good in anything, but the PR in her wanted him to look as charismatic and sellable as possible.

His cell phone rang, and with a motion he signaled she could get started. Without further delay, Penny marched through the hallway and went across to his closet. His spacious suite had a floor plan identical to hers. However, there was an aura of masculinity in his, something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It could always be the blend of his aftershave with his purely male scent lingering in the air.

The closet looked similar to hers, although while hers had items of clothes and accessories scattered, Luc’s domain was tidy. A couple of suits still covered with the dry cleaner’s plastic hung by several long sleeved shirts, but none of them fit the occasion. She saw a half-opened carry-on bag on the bottom rack, next to more Italian leather shoes.

“Luc?” she called, but all she heard was his voice, still speaking in French with whoever had called. Penny glanced at her watch.

Her fingers pulled the first drawer open.

Oh, his underwear. Of course.

She closed it after a quick glance at the silky boxers.

Definitely, that level of intimacy wasn’t part of the plan. She looked for a different shirt, something a tad more casual. Then she opened the second drawer. A couple of ties, extra cell phones, passports and one leather bound book filled the drawer. What caught her attention, though, lay in the back. A couple of sheets of construction paper wrapped in a rubber band. Penny stretched her hand and touched them, and the ragged edges felt rough against her fingers. They were kids’ drawings, she realized, the circles and lines in red, blue, and yellow juxtaposing one another.

The sound of footsteps made her close the drawer in a hurry.
The last thing I need is to be caught snooping.

“Found it?” he asked behind her.

Hot awareness knitted her spine. His closet no longer doubled her Dallas living room in size. His presence made the big, airy closet morph into a tight rabbit hole.
Very, very tight.

“Do you have a shirt in a dark, solid color?” she managed to ask, choosing to turn to him slowly as she regained composure. He didn’t need to see her chest heave with frustrated breathing, or her flushed cheeks.

He opened the third drawer and removed a dark green long sleeved shirt. “Will this one do?”

Penny nodded. “Be quick, we don’t have much time.”

He must have taken his suit jacket off in the bedroom, because now all he had on was the white shirt he proceeded to remove, quickly scooping it over his head and throwing it on a chair, instead of opening each button.

A heat coiled in her stomach and arrowed down to her sex. Within a moment, that hunk of a man stood shirtless next to her. She cleared her throat and tried to look to the sides, to appreciate the fine craftsmanship behind the wood lines.

Should I just go? I should. I should.

However, moving would mean going around him to get outside the closet, and the possibility of rubbing her limbs against his bare flesh made her skin break out in goose bumps.

“As I’ve mentioned in the email I sent, Brooke Okole has a variety-type show on the local channel. She’s a great liaison for us, since her show has very good ratings. It will smooth your image with the locals, after the bad press because of the safety breach.” Penny opted to speak, which —she hoped—would show she was still in charge. During her speech, her voice went up and down like the cords of a violin, as her gaze swept over his rower’s chest.

A dust of dark hair swept over his pectorals and stomach, and it narrowed down, disappearing into his black slacks. With time, he’d gained more muscle.
Phew.

She wiped a thread of sweat from her forehead.

Luc didn’t make direct eye contact. It became clear his intention wasn’t seducing her, but to change as fast as he could.

“Luc? You read the email, right?” she asked, to slice the one-sided sexual tension that could very well suffocate her. “It wasn’t easy getting this interview last minute.” She felt pathetic fishing for a compliment or the slightest sign of recognition.

What if he simply didn’t care about her professional efforts after she had told him she wouldn’t sleep with him? What if her chances of getting good references had gone down the drain even before the completion of her assignment?

“Yes.” He answered, with a blasé look. “Is this good?” He finished closing the buttons and opened his arms, showing her the end result.

“It will do,” she said coolly. “Time to go.”

An hour later, she couldn’t help the smile from spreading across her face. Whether he acknowledged it or not, the interview had been a fantastic idea. It helped, of course, that Luc could knock anyone off their socks.

From the moment he charmingly apologized for the delay at the beginning of taping, he had been engaging and dynamic all at once. Brooke looked indeed taken by him, showing an appreciation that seemed to go beyond the professional level.

Maybe her cheeks will cramp from all that smiling at him.

“You seem to be so hands-on with this particular hotel, Luc.” Brooke said, as they sat side by side, on the oversize wood chairs with fluffy weather-resistant pillows.

“There were a couple of misconceptions after the flood, and I just wanted to be a part of it every step of the way.” He flashed that million watt smile right at the camera.

“Could this also be about your late father?” Brooke crossed her legs and then tilted her head to the side with a concerned expression that screamed daytime TV drama.