One Night with the CEO (6 page)

She radiated energy and warmth—and a whole lot of sexy without even trying. How she did it, he didn’t care to know. He raised his finger to play with a curl that had come loose from her ponytail. The move turned into an awkward stretch, however, when he realized what he was about to do.

“You know, I’m glad Gracie and Ethan brought us together. I think we could become great friends,” he said.

She’d been on the verge of leaning into him, probably because he’d given her every reason to believe he’d welcome the contact, but she drew back on his last word. Though he’d emphasized their new friendship to set boundaries for himself, he’d also hoped to send her a message, too. Her sudden interest in the contents of her purse confirmed that she’d heard that message loud and clear.

Mimi came out of nowhere, leaning into Karen and Mark’s row—and breaking the uneasy moment. “That Marine is hot,” she told Karen. “No wedding ring, either. I’d love to see him stand at attention, if you know what I mean. Oorah!”

Okay. There was only so much a man should be expected to take. He rose to stretch his legs, and Mimi plopped into his seat. Just as well, since he needed a minute to get his shit together.

He’d wanted to establish a connection with Karen based on something other than their mutual attraction. And he’d managed that in spades. Problem was, now he’d gotten a glimpse of her intelligence and compassion, too. And those traits made her infinitely
more
attractive to him, not less.

In a few hours, they’d be in Puerto Rico, where he’d stay for three days. Despite his attraction, surely he could resist her for three days. With the Marines’ battle cry in mind, he prepared for battle. His mission: to fight his attraction to Karen at all costs.
Oorah.

T
he man had mastered the art of confusing her. Trying to decipher his odd behavior would only be an exercise in frustration, so Karen vowed not to analyze any of it. She maintained that resolve on the terminal’s moving walkway, up the stairs to ground transportation, and as she searched for their driver. Behind her, Mimi and Mark discussed the possibility of visiting El Yunque, a tropical rain forest on the northeastern part of island.

Blah, blah, blah. Yadda, yadda, yadda.
Mark and Mimi’s carefree chatter irritated her, and she had no idea why. Rising on her toes to see above the heads of the travelers bustling around her, she scanned the area for a sign with her name on it. When she failed to locate their driver, she stopped short and spun around, which caused her to collide with Mark, who’d been walking behind her. “
Oof
,” she said against his chest.

Mark whispered for her ears only. “Admit it. You have a thing for my chest.”

Yes, I do.

She stepped back and shook her head.
No. No, I don’t.

See?
Confusing. One minute he’d reached out to touch a strand of her hair. The next minute he’d claimed to be grateful for their new friendship. And now he’d made a suggestive comment about his chest. His big, solid chest.

Damn him.
She did
not
need this now.

She drew back and gave him her best “not in this lifetime” smile. “In your dreams, Lansing.” Then she linked her arm with Mimi’s. “We need to find our driver.”

Together, she and Mimi searched the crowd.

Her eyes finally found the sign that read,
PENNINGTON AND RAMIREZ
, and she waved to the driver who would take them the fifteen-minute drive from the airport to Hotel El Convento. As its namesake suggested, the hotel had once served as a convent. Gracie couldn’t resist the hotel’s old world charm, and its proximity to the numerous art museums in Old San Juan was an added benefit.

A tall man in a black suit and cap held a sign with Mark’s last name on it. He must have made his own arrangements then. She turned to Mark and schooled her features. “Where are you staying?”

His eyes met hers. “The Ritz-Carlton.”

Ah. Definitely more modern accommodations than hers. She’d never visited the Ritz, but she knew it was a favorite among international travelers who wanted the familiarity of a luxury chain.

“We’ll see you in a few hours for dinner?” she asked.

“Sure. Take care, ladies.”

“Bye,” Mimi called out as she put on her sunglasses. Shoulder to shoulder, they watched Mark walk away. When he was out of earshot, Mimi whistled. “That man’s ass is a force unto itself.”

Distracted by the view, Karen blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “I like firm butts and I cannot lie.”

Mimi stared at her in disbelief. “Wow. That man brings out a side of you I’ve never seen.”

Unfortunately for Karen, she didn’t know if that was a good or a bad thing.

Gracie had left Karen a welcome note at hotel check-in. Ethan had arranged a series of spa treatments for Gracie, the note explained, followed by a couple’s massage for the bride and groom. They’d see everyone later that evening. Which meant Karen needed to hightail it to Abuela Marta’s house to help prepare for the pre-wedding dinner.

Gracie had offered to plan a dinner at the hotel, but Abuela Marta had insisted that her home would be the perfect place for a small gathering of family and friends. Gracie had already pissed off their grandmother by choosing to stay in Old San Juan, but she’d justified the decision by emphasizing that, with only a few days to prepare, she and Ethan needed to stay close to the wedding venue. So when Abuela Marta had insisted on hosting the dinner, Gracie caved. Her sister’s sense of self-preservation had clearly kicked in, because an annoyed Abuela Marta was
not
to be messed with.

Karen’s cousin Alex picked her up at the hotel an hour later. He exited his compact Toyota and drew the attention of several woman waiting outside the lobby. She understood the appeal. Alex sported a short, military-style haircut that emphasized his sculpted cheekbones and hazel eyes. And she’d never seen him without his trademark smile, a lopsided affair that revealed annoyingly perfect teeth.

“Karen. Look at you. You’re all grown up, college graduate,” he said as he captured her in a bear hug. He moved to ruffle the hair on top of her head and caught himself. “Not a little girl anymore, huh?”

“Exactly.”

“Just do me a favor while you’re here,” he said as he placed her carry-on suitcase in his trunk. “Take it easy. I don’t want to have to kick some man’s ass for looking at you the wrong way.”

Alex had always been her favorite cousin. Three years older than her, he’d been protective of her since Karen and Gracie’s first trip to the island. But back then he’d been concerned about the bullies.

She fiddled with the seat belt and strapped herself in. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be on my best behavior during this trip.”

He started the engine and waggled his eyebrows. “Best behavior is a relative term,
prima
.”

“True enough,
primo
.”

As he maneuvered his way through Old San Juan, Karen peppered him with questions, wanting to catch up on everything she’d missed. “How’s your mom?”

Alex gripped the steering wheel and sighed. “She’s fine. I think she wants to move out. She’s been grumbling about needing her own space, but Abuela Marta can’t understand why she’d take on the costs of her own place when Abuela Marta has two empty bedrooms. And now that the economy’s shot to shit, who’s to say Mom won’t be out of a job soon. Anyway, that’s their issue. I’ve got my own issues with my mom.”

“Like what? Oh, wait. Let me guess. She wants you to settle down.”

“Yes, at the ripe old age of twenty-five I’m apparently letting my good years go to waste.”

This was a recurring theme in her family—Gracie had even battled with their parents about it—so Karen understood Alex’s frustration. “Damn. That’s harsh. But inquiring minds want to know, is there anyone special on the horizon?”

“I’m too young to be thinking about settling down. Besides, I doubt my mother would approve of anyone I chose to bring home.”

“High standards?”

Alex scowled. “Let’s just say she has outdated standards. And that’s all I want to say about that. What about you? Anyone special?”

Karen studied his profile, many more questions on the tip of her tongue. She sensed that he wanted to deflect her attention away from his love life, however. Fair enough. She hadn’t seen Alex in a few years, and although he was family, she didn’t know much about his personal life. He might not be ready to talk to her about it now, but maybe if she opened up to him now, he’d feel comfortable doing the same in the future. “I didn’t date much in college. Being pre-med kept me busy. I can’t imagine starting a relationship in medical school, so it looks like I’ll be unattached for a while.”

“You don’t sound happy about that.”

“No, it’s fine.” Well, it had been fine until she’d met Mark. Now she didn’t know what she wanted. “The thing is, I always assumed I wouldn’t meet the love of my life in college because…”

Alex laughed. “Because college boys are idiots.”

“Many of them, yes. My first-year roommate thought she’d met the love of her life at school. She came to the university like gangbusters, ready to excel in the business school. Kicking ass and taking names and all that. Next thing I knew she was pregnant and dropping out. Oh, and the love of her life disappeared after she told him about the baby. He transferred out of state, which apparently had been the plan all along.”

Alex whistled and shook his head. “Damn, that’s fucked up.”

“Right? Gets me angry every time I think about it. So you can see why I wasn’t too enthusiastic about dating in college. And now with med school bearing down on me, I can’t see that dating anyone would make sense.” She slipped her hands between her thighs and blew out a breath. Shit. This was hard to talk about. “But I have needs, too.”

“We all do,” Alex said.

“Exactly.”

“But you don’t have to date someone to have your needs met, Karen.”

Karen’s rebellious brain produced an image of Mark in her head. She slipped on her sunglasses, needing to shield her eyes from Alex’s curious gaze. Yes, he had a point there.

Mark stepped out of the car, his gaze settling on Karen within seconds. She stood on the porch of her grandmother’s house and was greeting guests. She’d pinned her hair on top of her head and let a few ringlets fall around her shoulders. The hairstyle gave him an unobstructed view of her neck and lovely collarbones, and the coral sundress she wore emphasized her slim waist and curvy hips. She’d worn a pretty outfit. Nothing more. Nothing less. But his traitorous brain tricked him into thinking she’d chosen the outfit with him in mind.

He managed to draw his gaze away from Karen and surveyed the neighborhood. Rows of concrete houses with red-tile roofs dotted the streets, each one battling the others for the title of house with the most eye-catching color scheme: sky blue and green, canary yellow and white, and a rust color that either had been selected on purpose or represented abnormal wear and tear. Green grass and lush palm trees fronted some of the homes.

Abuela Marta’s house boasted an outdoor staircase that led to a second-floor balcony. The concrete walls of the home had been painted pink and white, and the white picket fence jutted from the right side of the house, wrapped around the porch, and ended at the carport on the house’s left side. If the house had had any curves, it would pass for a giant flamingo.

He would have preferred to walk past Karen, because engaging in as little conversation with her as possible seemed the safe thing to do, but the thought of ignoring her altogether bothered him more than the risk of succumbing to her charms.

“Hello, Karen.”

Her smile faltered as she turned to face him. “Good to see you again, Mark.”

They stared at each other.
Would it always be like this between them?
This tightness in the air stifling them? The sense that what they really wanted to say or do bubbled under the surface? He hoped not—for both their sakes. “Same here.” He dug his hands in his pockets and gave her an inquiring look.

She straightened and shook her head as if to clear it. “Oh, right. Go ahead inside. Ethan and Gracie are holding court. When you have a minute, I’ll introduce you to my grandmother.” She moved closer and stood on her toes to whisper in his ear. “She’s a spitfire. Be careful.”

He smiled and crossed the threshold. Heat smacked him in the face, along with the smell of unfamiliar foods. He sniffed the air. Just past the foyer two tables of food in various chafing and serving dishes made his mouth water. Guests milled about with plates in their hands, alternating between eating the sumptuous food and catching up with friends. Salsa music played in the background.

He found Gracie and Ethan in the living room.

His friend squeezed his shoulder and clasped his hand. “Hey, buddy. Glad you could make it.” Ethan turned to Gracie. “Now we can get married.”

Gracie raised a brow. “Sorry to tell you this, Mark, but we would have gotten married without you. Still, I’m glad you’re here.”

“She’s nothing if not honest, eh?” he said to Ethan.

“And beautiful. And smart.” Ethan dipped his head and nuzzled Gracie’s neck. “And sexy. Let’s not forget sexy.”

“Down, boy,” Mimi shouted from across the room. She pinned him with her stare, and then she mouthed,
I’m watching you.

Ethan groaned. “Did you put her up to this?” he asked Gracie.

Gracie laughed. “What kind of question is that? Does anyone ever have to put Mimi up to anything?”

“No, I suppose not,” Ethan replied.

A group of women laughing in the corner drew his attention. At the center of their circle stood a man around his age. The women hung on his every word—and he appeared to have plenty of words to share.

Mimi brushed against him. “That’s Daniel,” she said with a sneer. “Friend of the family and wannabe Casanova.”

“Be nice, Mimi,” Gracie said.

“I’m not sure I know how,” Mimi replied without a hint of amusement on her face.

Unfortunately for Daniel, he chose that moment to join their small gathering. “Gracie, Ethan. Congratulations. I’m happy for you.”

Gracie greeted Daniel enthusiastically. Ethan? Not so much.

Mimi even less so. “Daniel, how can you handle all the adoration? The player in you must be in his element.”

Daniel fingered a lock of Mimi’s blond hair. “Tell me this, Mimi. Is it frustrating when people make assumptions about you because of your looks? Because of the sound of your voice? Because of that slight Southern accent you work so hard to disguise?”

Mimi’s pale skin blushed a furious red, but her blue eyes flashed with anger. “Changing the subject. Definitely a skill well within your wheelhouse, I see.”

Daniel chuckled, seemingly unconcerned with the fire in Mimi’s eyes. “I could say the same about your talent for unnecessary rudeness.”

Gracie’s head snapped back. Ethan widened his eyes in shock And Mark dropped his head and stared at his watch.
Well, damn.

Oblivious to the tension between Daniel and Mimi, Karen joined them, a clean plate in her hand. “I’m going to stuff my face. Mark, would you like me to give you a rundown of the dishes?”

No. Not really.
He imagined her “rundown.” With his luck, she’d use words like
tender
,
rich
, and
succulent
. Oh, and
moist
. He couldn’t forget
moist
. She’d have him panting within seconds. But since he wanted no part of the boxing match between Daniel and Mimi, he nodded and got the hell out of there.

Minutes later, he marveled at the heaping plate of food in his hands. Karen had, in fact, used some of the words he’d imagined she would use—except for
succulent
. That word only sparked his own imagination apparently.