Ocean of Love (2 page)

“
I’m coming into the
office. Excuse me? Sinclair, when did all this change?” Marissa
asked, steadying her voice from the stratosphere back to her office
at Apex.

“
Your new client will be
here in about thirty minutes. I didn’t tell you sooner because I
know how you tend to get stressed-out. Take a deep breath and
you’ll do just fine. I reviewed all your notes, research, and the
video presentation. Your game is on. Just do what you
do.”

“
Refresh me. What exactly
is that?”

“
Deliver. Marissa, free up
those properties you’ve been working. I trust you. Now, don’t screw
this up.”

Great advice from her boss. Not the most
inspiring of pep talkers she’d ever met.

Piss ant.
No point in stewing. She envisioned what needed
to take place in order to prepare for this meeting. Wait, she was
head on the deal. Tonight was the full moon. Marissa’s fingers
trembled, fully understanding she was in a bind and what it meant
to be head.

What the heck did Sinclair
do with clients of this caliber? Client after-hour meetings,
dinners, night-club rendezvous.
Schmoozing.
She swallowed the lump
lodged in her throat. Entering her office, she pressed the skin at
her temples. She slumped at her desk, opening the computer file
she’d prepared.

After glancing at her
laptop clock, she stopped flipping through the digital
presentation. She’d finished reviewing her complete file on the
Herndon deal, and now, she had less than five minutes before her
client showed.
Crud,
her client
.

Only minutes ago—the news, similar to a
sonic boom, had hit somewhere in her chest, and the after-effects
were still running rampant—the biggest developer had been dropped
into her real estate broker lap.

She rose and paced in front of her desk,
practicing her greeting and a firm handshake. Wyatt Herndon was a
hard-nosed construction manager from what she gathered. Those men
tended to resemble defensive football players spouting a beer gut.
She imagined him showing up with in a loud sports coat, a ruddy
complexion, and cracking his knuckles.

Sinclair stuck his head into her office.
“Wyatt’s here. I’m going out to the reception area, and I’ll bring
him back to your office.”

“
I’m more than
ready.”
Great.
If
her voice reflected her anxiety, she was dead in the
water.

Listening to his footsteps moving down the
carpeted corridor, she couldn’t resist and snuck down the hall
expecting to find a short, stocky man in the reception area.
Marissa peered at the back of her client, nearly falling over. The
man towered above Sinclair, sporting a set of broad shoulders from
what she could tell, clinging to the edge of a chair while spying
on him from behind. Alongside Mr. Herndon stood a stylish redhead,
who turned and smiled at her.

Marissa feigned interest in an exotic fern
on the nearby table. When the woman shifted her gaze toward Mr.
Herndon, she edged back into the hallway. What a way to start as
lead—sprinting toward her office.

Conflicting thoughts
muddled her line of thinking. At least her boss could have warned
her. Really, what type of disclaimer would come with someone like
Wyatt Herndon?
Warning: hot, rich
client—definitely hands-off.

Her boss understated everything. Sinclair
had pushed into her office a month ago, giving her a heads-up on
the Herndon bid, assigning her to work out condo building codes and
prospective beach properties. She had worked deals like this before
but never in a lead position, or with a man who seemed so demanding
and powerful. He had explained little other than her ability with
commercial properties with zoning issues required her
involvement.

Sinclair’s words of wisdom
echoed inside her imagination. “
Don’t
screw this up
.”

Marissa flinched at the rap on her door. At
first glance, the man who stood next to Sinclair drew her entire
focus. He took up most of the space in the doorway, not to mention
in her head. She quietly absorbed the way her client’s body
eclipsed the sunlight pouring from the hallway windows in back of
him. He stood with his face shadowed, preventing direct eye
contact.

“
Take care, Wyatt. I’ll
leave you with my best broker. Marissa Silverpointe has an inner
line on the zoning boards as well as connections to more than a few
properties. I’m sure you’ll find each one spectacular.” Sinclair
winked at her before he exited, clapping the back of the man who
continued to consume the space of her office.

She realized she’d been
sitting in the dark. “Sinclair catch the lights.” Throughout this
ordeal, her client regarded her while leaning up against the
doorjamb cool as a cucumber. Except he wasn’t green or…
Stop staring
. She
visually feasted upon his groin, which appeared to house such a
vegetable.

Seriously?
She sprang to her feet. “Would you care to come
in?” she asked, refusing to be undone under his perusal—or body
parts.

“
Yes. Thank you. Miss
Silverpoint?” He entered her office as she picked up a file off her
desk.

He regarded her with a stoic expression.
“How old are you?” He asked her point blank, speaking in an acerbic
tone.

There was nothing brash or flamboyant about
him, belying what she’d believed prior to his arrival. Conversely,
the way he acted reinforced her imagined impression of her client
as someone obstinately aloof.

Until her gaze locked with his.

She gasped, staring across the room at him.
His unbelievably blue eyes were live wires arcing flashes of
alternating hot and cold charges. Oh, he rocked her world in a
single glance.

Tongue-tied, she stood with her desk
separating them. His good looks went beyond gorgeous into a realm
giving him the ability to curl her toes. Tight. His impervious
nature, coupled with his slight sneer, worked her over. He employed
a tough demeanor as though it were a weapon used to rightfully
dominate whomever lay before him. At that moment, she was his
victim.

Tit-for-tat Mr.
Herndon
. Marissa strode from behind her
desk and handed over her resume. If he cared to be rude, then he’d
have to do the work to gather his own answers.

“
Mr. Herndon, here is
my
curriculum vitae
and list of references. I’m certain you’ll find more than
enough about my credentials to assuage any of your
concerns.”

“
Nice stationery.” He
ignited her the second she stepped close enough to inhale his
masculine scent. Their fingers grazed, lightly touching but enough
to cause of gush of warmth to suffuse her cheeks.

Her whole body responded to Wyatt on a level
she’d never experienced. Insult to her injury worsened when his
gaze dropped to her chest or rather, her erect nipples, which
pressed out from behind her blouse. Her face continued to burn
hotter while she slipped on her jacket.

What did he possess that
provoked such an intense response from her? Her breasts swelled
inside her bra and ached for release. Wyatt’s whole flinty manner
promised friction and heat leaving her a wooden matchstick, dipped
in
red phosphorus, ready for
action.

She considered removing herself from the
project when he uttered, “Well, darling? Care to divulge the
details?”

That idea lasted all of five seconds before
she succinctly redrew the boundaries of their business
relationship.

“
Old enough to be
considered the best at locating ocean-front property.” She returned
his arctic glare, twirling a pen between her fingers. “I’d like to
review our contract, considering we’ll be handling the construction
loan procurement. I see you finally responded to my email only
moments before this meeting. There are two properties I’ve located.
They’re off the market and, once listed, will be readily snatched
up. Our timeline is shrinking.”

Heck, she might not be some alpha realtor.
Neither was she about to let some man—with a chip on his
shoulder—push her around. Huge real estate client or not, she’d
worked her tail off to earn her real estate and broker’s license
specializing in commercial property acquisitions along the Gold
Coast. She’d earned realtor of the year for South Florida based on
hard work, not some personality contest.

“
This is quite extensive,”
he said perusing the pages. “Industrious, aren’t you?”

She discreetly studied Wyatt while he read
over the contract and enjoyed the slight widening of his eyes as he
watched the brief presentation she had prepared for the two
beachfront properties she believed were perfect for his
project.

“
This was just a preview.
The sites are a short distance away. If you’d care, I can take you
over to each one.”

“
You shoot from the hip
don’t you? Give me a second to call my financial advisor. She’s
with Sinclair. These two sites are more than promising.”

“
I’m glad you’re
interested.” Her words were boulders in her mouth. She stunk at
chitchat, but with this man nothing seemed to come out as she
intended. He laughed. “You could say that. I’ll call my team to get
moving on the construction loans. Excuse me.”

Despite his teasing words, it was common
knowledge Wyatt Herndon detested screw-ups. His company had
developed beachfront property on several continents. He built not
only condos. but a ruthless reputation in business deals.

While he talked with his financial advisor,
Marissa stepped out into the hall and sent an email to the site
managers with an initial proposal to purchase. She had no time to
waste and angled her foot in the theoretical doorway of the
properties under her wing. Later, she could always retract a bid.
She had less than a few hours to lock up this deal. Once the
properties were listed, they’d be out of her control. And control
was the lynchpin of her existence. She stepped back inside her
office inhaling the air. All her senses were redrawn to her
client.

Wyatt smiled over at her with a wicked curl
of his lips, sending a quiver of delight throughout her body.

Mercy please.
With each step back to her desk, the rubbing
together of her thighs sparked slivers of ecstasy spasming between
her legs.
Self. Control
. Not so easy with her new client.

He stood as she entered her office. She slid
past him but not before something warm swept over her neck. Had he
touched her or was it her imagination? She glanced back at him only
to meet his innocent countenance.

“
Are you always this
prepared for your clients, Miss Silverpointe?”

Heck no, she silently screamed. His lips
quirked in just the right way, and she held her breath. Somehow he
knew she was a house of cards waiting for a swift wind.

“
We’ve no time to waste
considering the properties are under the radar. You’ll have to make
an offer by this evening. Once they’re on the market, we’ll have no
pricing control. As you’ve required a cash discount, we’ll need to
move pretty quick. I suggest a site visit. Afterwards, you’ll have
what’s required to make your decision, Mr. Wyatt.”

“
I’d enjoy seeing the
properties if you’ll agree to show me. Nothing like undeveloped
beauty. And call me Wyatt.”

He toyed with her. Damn.
Damn. Double dammit. Unfortunately, she’d unwittingly
allowed
Wyatt’s
origami way of disarming her to take hold. Her insides
slithered and swam in his presence, a feeling of going hot and wet
all at once.

She didn’t comprehend how he had the ability
to make her disregard her work in the few minutes of knowing him.
For some inexplicable reason, she longed to have his hands on her
body, his mouth up against hers, whispering naughty
suggestions.

A blaze of heat swam over her skin from her
head to her heels. She picked up a contract and fanned herself. If
she didn’t reel their relationship back to a hardline sales
contract, he’d have the power to snap his fingers, and she come
running.

Wyatt softly laughed. “Marissa Silverpointe.
What shall we do?”

She fumbled with a paperclip. “We’d better
get moving considering our timeline.”

“
I’ve got a proposition for
you.” His penetrating gaze made her mouth go dry. He paused as
though he sought to craft his next words. The paperclip slipped
from her fingers.

Her hands gripped the armrests of her chair.
“Yes, go on.”

“
Tell you what, give me
your undivided attention for the next two days, and I’ll give you
my undivided attention in so far as real estate deals in the
future. I plan on returning to South Florida in March. I’m looking
to buy in Fort Lauderdale.”

“
I don’t need an
incentive.” Marissa bristled.

His incredibly sexy mouth kept calling her
attention, and the way her gaze kept colliding with his made her go
breathless. She couldn’t risk exposure to something she didn’t
understand. Not with the warning signs flaring inside her body.
More than that, she couldn’t agree to give him undivided attention.
Not with her full moon swim tonight. How could one man be this
difficult?

“
Undivided attention?
Surely, you don’t mean literally.”

“
I mean side-by-side for
the next forty-eight hours. You ever pull an all-nighter or
two?”