Scent of a Woman (9 page)

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Authors: Joanne Rock

Tags: #Contemporary, #Fiction, #Romance, #General, #Man-Woman Relationships, #Love Stories, #Cruise Ships, #Businesswomen, #Perfumes industry, #Mediterranean Sea

BOOK: Scent of a Woman
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CHAPTER NINE

D
ANIELLE TOOK THE
longest shower imaginable the next morning, hoping if she let the hot water run over her long enough, eventually she’d figure out a way to resurrect some boundaries with Adam.

But when her fingers had turned to shriveled prunes and she still had no idea what to say when she faced him, she realized she couldn’t put off their meeting much longer.

Shutting off the water, she told herself she simply needed to be graceful about the whole thing. Adam had probably been with many women. He would know how to handle the awkwardness of the morning after in a vacation romance in which the people involved weren’t looking for a serious relationship. She would simply follow his lead.

Drying her hair with a towel, she admired the Venetian-tile countertops and thick linens. The soaps were the same as in her suite, and she reminded herself to contact the ships purchasing agent since she could provide products that were equally exquisite, with of packaging that complemented the earth tones in the bathrooms.

Somehow thinking about her company helped her pull herself together after a night that left her feeling more than a little vulnerable. She had exposed herself in so many ways—

“Danielle?” Adam’s voice called to her through the door.

Her heart jumped, responding to him immediately, even as the rest of her insisted she take her sweet time. Shoving her arms into one of the spa robes on the back of the door, she answered him.

“Oui?”

“Breakfast is here.”

Her belly growled an answer she hoped he couldn’t hear. She had forgotten what a night of lovemaking could do to a woman’s appetite. For that matter, she had forgotten what it did for a woman’s skin. Her cheeks glowed with good health today.

Opening the door, she saw Adam dressed in fresh clothes and holding a tray of steaming pots and silver-domed platters. White tulips bent their heads over the rim of an amber glass vase.

“You are an early riser, no?” She followed him to a table in the living area of the suite, memories of last night assailing her as she watched the way he moved across the room, his athlete’s body strong and graceful at the same time.

“I thought I would walk around the ship so as not to wake you.” He set out their breakfast, pouring two cups of coffee from a silver carafe. “I hope you don’t mind, but I picked you up a present with a little American attitude. Just a small thing.”

He thrust a gift bag in her direction and she knew a moment’s hesitation. Gifts complicated things. But as she burrowed through the tissue paper from the ship’s gift shop, she found a pair of pink plastic sandals that made her smile.

“I know you navigated Rome like a pro in heels, but just in case you ever want to travel like an American—”


Merci.
My feet thank you and I think they will fit perfectly.”

The sandals would remind her of Adam and the informed approach he seemed to prefer in everything but his work.

“I scoped out the label in one of your heels from last night.” He held out a chair for her. “Come on over and let me feed you.”

She joined him, grateful for his thoughtfulness.

“You have been too kind already. Rome was magnificent yesterday. I’m glad we got to see it together.” She would never think of that city without thinking of him.

The scent of fresh rolls and eggs was almost enough to make her swoon. She ate a bit before reaching for her coffee mug.

“I agree. And you don’t know how strange it is for a guy like me to take time to sightsee. But honestly, a week ago I was too mired in work to even notice the time, let alone what room I was sitting in or what kind of view was outside the window. I’d forgotten what it was like to take a vacation.”

“I hope it is an experience you will repeat.” She didn’t like the idea of him working that hard.

“Somehow, I don’t think my next cruise would be quite the same.” He winked at her across the table, but the lighthearted gesture didn’t diminish the sincerity she heard in his voice.

It made her heart quicken.

Setting down her fork, she reached across the table to touch Adam’s forearm.

“I want you to know I’ve had a wonderful time with you, no matter where things go from here. I am content to simply have this time together until our cruise ends.”

He set down his fork, too, and for a moment she thought he would argue about something she’d said. He took a breath, his forehead furrowed. But then he shook his head and seemed to change his mind.

“Fair enough.” He picked up her hand and kissed the backs of her fingers. “But I should tell you that your prediction about the media discovering my whereabouts was all too accurate. Someone with a camera apparently saw us together in Rome.”

She froze, not sure what he meant.

He pulled a piece of paper out from under a plate of rolls and handed it to her. It was a page from an Italian tabloid dated this morning and included a picture of them walking arm in arm on a busy street in Rome. Danielle’s body was pressed snugly to his side and she gazed up at him with a look on her face that mingled joy with admiration.

She appeared totally smitten with the man who formed the photographic center of the photo, his long stride twice the length of hers as they walked with the city behind them and a swell of pedestrian traffic on either side.

The caption of the photo read, “American mogul lingers with international beauty after an ill-fated courtship with starlet.” Next to their photo was a smaller stock shot of Jessica Winslow, along with a story about her arrival in Italy to film a movie.

“She must have a wonderful publicist,” Danielle finally managed to say, dismayed at the idea of being watched.

“I wouldn’t have even seen the paper except that the woman in the gift shop is Italian and she had a news Web site on her laptop when I went in there to look for shoes.”

“Charming.” Danielle shoved the paper away, her appetite not quite as robust.

The newspaper article presented serious complications. The fragrance community would be buzzing about this for days.

“You’re upset.” He released her hand.

“My brother has been overly protective of me since the perfume recipe was stolen. I am thirty-four but he hovers over my life as if I were twenty. If we were simply related and shared Sunday dinners together, I would manage. But we run a business together and that creates a lot of stress for me. I will have five messages on my phone when I return to my suite, and while I would like to write off his concerns as groundless, I have to put Les Rêves first in my life if we are going to recover from the devastation caused by the loss of our last big perfume to a competitor.”

“And you think this small side note on a foreign news website will hurt your growth?”

“A man in business who is in the social pages is considered a well-rounded stud. A businesswoman connected to men in the social pages is still considered a scandal at worst or frivolous at best. It is a line I’ve always walked, because socialites make up my most lucrative customer base. But press like this can disturb that careful balance.”

She could tell he understood and recognized the double standard when he did not argue the point.

Standing, Danielle picked up the shoes he’d bought for her.

“I need to return to my room, Adam. I’m sorry.”

“Are you sure?” He stood, concern obvious in his sea blue eyes.

“We knew this time together had to be temporary.” Her heart hurt to acknowledge the end of their time together, but she couldn’t afford to make matters any worse than they already were. She could still control the damage if she walked away from him now. “I just did not realize how short a time it would be.”

Retreating into the bathroom to dress, she closed the door behind her, shutting him out.

 

“W
HAT SEEMS TO BE
the problem?” Adam asked one of the security officers as he waited with Danielle at a check-in area she’d been directed to by guest services when her room key wouldn’t work a half hour later. They had been ushered into a room with about twenty other passengers who were experiencing the same problem.

The crowd was becoming restless. A handful of passengers were angry about having missed a shore excursion because of a problem disembarking.

But Adam figured he had more reason to be agitated than anyone else in the room. Danielle had backed off totally after discovering they’d been photographed together. Apparently, Adam’s public moment with Jessica in Corfu had alerted the international press to his presence and created the kind of savory drama the tabloids thrived on—at least for this week. They’d surely be on to something else in a day or two. The timing frustrated Adam. Why did it have to happen after such an amazing night with Danielle?

She stood stiffly in front of him now, waiting for more information on the security issue that had temporarily voided her room key.

“There was a break-in and robbery at one of the Roman museums,” the female security guard explained to Adam. “One of the shore excursions from
Alexandra’s Dream
had just toured the place when it happened, so the Italian police asked us to check if any of our passengers might have seen something.”

“Was it the Galleria Borghese?” Danielle had turned around to listen. At the front of the room, another security officer sat at a table asking questions and renewing room keys and identification passes.

“Yes. Were you on the tour through the Villa?”

“No.” Adam hoped that would ensure they didn’t need to answer a lot of questions. “We tried to visit the park, though, and wondered what was going on over there since our car couldn’t make it through the rerouted traffic.”

Nodding, the security guard excused herself at a signal from the front of the line. Adam noticed a couple of people ahead of them peel away from the line, perhaps hoping the wait wouldn’t be as long later in the day.

“Come on.” He took Danielle’s arm to propel her forward.

When she said nothing to him, silently moving in response, a surge of irritation coursed through him. Not until this moment did he realize how serious she was about severing the connection they’d only just created.

“You can’t simply stop talking to me.” He leaned forward to speak softly into her ear.

“I have not stopped speaking to you,” she argued, never turning around. “Perhaps I am merely quiet today because I am feeling a little—how do you say?—shell-shocked at the events of the past twenty-four hours.”

She peered over her shoulder at him as the line—at long last—began to move.

“I just don’t understand—” He jingled his change in his pocket, searching for the right words. “Whatever happened to the idea that there is no such thing as bad publicity?”

He didn’t understand how she could let her brother manipulate her like this when she was so smart and articulate about her business. He’d attended a panel discussion she’d given the day they’d been at sea between ports and she had impressed him with the scientific connections she drew between scents and emotions.

“That is a saying made by Americans for Americans. That may be true in New York, but it is not true here. The perfume world is small.”

“You mean, elitist and stuffy?” He didn’t say it to offend her, but how could she not see the downside of such an insular industry?

“That is not at all what I meant and I am quite sure you know it.” Danielle sighed as she edged forward.

Finally, she and Adam were signaled forward by ship security and were cleared after a few questions. Their room keys were reinstated along with their boarding passes, and Adam was glad he’d stood in the line since he hadn’t even realized his key card had been affected, as well.

“But you have to admit,” Adam pressed, “that to an outsider, the European fragrance industry might seem a kind of closed society to newcomers. Even Prestige doesn’t quite fit in.”

That fact was his only misgiving about going after the United Arab Emirates markets. There existed a global bias that sometimes perceived American companies as being too large and impersonal. Occasionally, Adam was subjected to the criticism that companies like Prestige were mercenary for going after new business with capitalistic zeal.

“I cannot speak to that, being an insider. But I can say that some people enjoy working with a small, family-owned company that doesn’t have to answer to endless corporate boards and complicated chains of command.” She stuffed her key in her bag after getting the all-clear from security. “I don’t think there’s anything elitist or stuffy about that.”

“Danielle, all I’m saying is that you are operating in a very narrow field. Don’t get me wrong, it’s one that I admire now. But I didn’t see its merits until I came on this cruise and experienced it for myself.”

He’d bitched and moaned big-time about hanging out with perfume snobs. But the people he’d met were very different from what he’d expected.

Danielle waited, silent. A few other returning passengers moved past them toward the elevators while they remained in the wide corridor.

“You might be glad to break out of your tight business circle some time. Maybe if the company were a little more diversified, you wouldn’t feel so bound by the more traditional atmosphere of the fragrance world.” He didn’t understand why she didn’t just tell her brother to go blow, but then he might not have all the facts.

“I understand,” she admitted, nodding finally as she readjusted her purse on her shoulder. “But I am not in a position to finance such big moves, much as I might enjoy those opportunities.”

Damn. He’d unwittingly injured her pride, forgetting about the financial hardships her company must have suffered after losing an important perfume formula to a competitor.

“Let me at least walk you to your room.” He steered her forward through the hallway. “You never told me who this guy was that stole the perfume recipe from you.”

He hated the idea of someone deceiving her. Hell, he didn’t even like the idea of someone else touching her. Their night together hadn’t done anything to ease the desire for her that had been growing ever since his first day on board. If anything, he only wanted her more.

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