Sinfully Summer (6 page)

Ric’s arm slid around her lower back and she snapped her attention back to him. He smirked down at her, as if to say he knew it was spectacular and that’s exactly why he picked the place. Still, something niggled that this wasn’t the right venue for Ric’s charity. They were led through to what she assumed to be the lounge, if the four large sofas and fireplace was anything to go by, but what drew her attention was the glass wall with the whole of Marbella on the other side.

Mr Romero rose from one of the sofas and Ric introduced Alexa. She smiled politely and allowed Mr Romero to kiss the back of her hand while Ric probably explained in Spanish that she couldn’t speak their tongue.

Just like last night, the sound of his voice curling around the foreign words made her tingle all over. Needing a distraction, she sauntered over to the window to let the men talk business and looked down at the city below.

Mr Romero must feel like God waking up on his mountain and looking down on all this every day. He obviously loved the city to have such a spectacular view of it and she could see why. Every building was a tribute to architecture. From the little brick houses scattered all over to the skyscraper hotels, like Ric’s parents’, it was the perfect mix of modern and old, dotted along a golden beach and light blue ocean.

The harbour was further away, and she ran her gaze over the yachts docked along the side. Then further out to the middle of the water. The biggest yacht of all was anchored in the centre and looked more like a mini cruise ship than an actual boat.

‘Alexa, we’re going to see the ballroom now.’

She turned to the sound of Ric’s voice and followed the men through the house, snatching another peek at the boat over her shoulder. If Ric wanted to make an impression with his party, the boat would probably be better than a hillside mansion.

Ric sipped the glass of champagne Mr Romero had offered, his mind lost in thought. The midday sun shone down from above and the heat on the balcony was stifling. He had removed his suit jacket and rolled up his shirt sleeves, but Alexa kept her jacket firmly in place.

He’d almost offered to take it for her when Mr Romero invited them up for a drink and bite to eat before they left, but remembered the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra and the linen blouse he’d made her wear was almost translucent. The fact she must be overheating ate at his conscience, but if he wrapped this up quick they would be in the air conditioned limo in no time.

Mr Romero excused himself to take a call and he noticed Alexa’s glass sat mostly untouched on the table next to her as she stared out across the city below them.

‘What do you think of this as a venue?’ he asked.

Ric had been excited about it when he arrived, but the ballroom in the house was situated back into the mountain and regardless of the size and bright lights, had given him the feeling they were in a coffin a lot deeper than six foot under.

She shrugged. ‘I don’t see it for your ball. An audience with world leaders, maybe even a few queens, but not to raise money for homeless children.’ She turned to him, her expression unapologetic and went on. ‘Why ask my opinion? I’m sure you’ll go ahead and book it regardless of what I think.’

She was almost right. Her opinion didn’t matter as much as any party planning skills he had, but he wasn’t sure about the venue and Alexa confirming his doubts made up his mind.

He sighed. ‘I agree with you, but I don’t see us being able to find anywhere else on short notice. I can’t host this at another hotel, especially since I’m in competition with most and I would prefer not to do it at Hotel Castillo.’

Her eyebrows rose. ‘Why not? It belongs to your family.’

Ric wasn’t willing to admit that he’d refused to live off their name all his life, instead he told her, ‘It’s the last option.’

Her gaze drifted to the view again. With the sun beaming on her face he could see the moisture shine on her forehead. ‘We’ll be leaving soon.’ He didn’t want to think too much about the fact she wasn’t wearing a bra, but wanted to reassure her that her discomfort wouldn’t last long.

She nodded. After last night’s meeting with Santos, he had been wary bringing Alexa to Mr Romero’s, but if he was going to contract the property for the ball she could get a good feel for the place. Now, she was a stark contrast from the woman he’d found in her underwear in his penthouse the day before and a part of him wanted her back. Sparring with Alexa made him feel lighter than he had in a long time. She had a young spirit, said what she meant when she thought it and didn’t back down from him.

‘Who owns that?’ She pointed at the ocean.

Ric’s gaze landed on the luxury yacht. ‘I don’t know. One of the residents, maybe.’

She turned to him, a smile spread across her face and her eyes glittered with excitement. ‘It shouldn’t be hard to find out. Imagine having your ball there. I bet people would be talking about it for a long time.’

Her words painted the picture in his mind before logic could rule it out. He grinned at her, unable to help himself. She bubbled with excitement and her eyes already sparkled with the possibilities. His breath caught and heat jolted south. Ric cleared his throat and frowned at his body’s reaction.

‘It would be difficult to find out who the owners are and persuade them to rent it to the cause in such short notice.’ Business. That’s why she was here. It would do him good to remember that.

Alexa’s face fell. She turned her head back to look at the boat. ‘You sound like a quitter.’

Ric bit back a laugh. ‘Not a quitter, just realistic.’

Alexa let out an
hmph
. He smiled at the back of her head. She was every bit the spoiled heiress. Maybe living in the real world for a month would teach her that what Alexa wanted, she couldn’t always get.

They arrived back at the hotel earlier than expected, and since Jenna had confiscated her phone just after midnight enforcing the ‘no work on holiday’ rule, Alexa asked Ric for the use of one of the offices. He’d led her to the room the event organiser had been using and suggested she take a look over the files Lydia had left.

She shifted uncomfortably in the leather seat. The linen blouse had stuck to her torso after a morning sweltering under the suit jacket. She swore today was the last time she’d put on the manky skirt and jacket combo. This afternoon she’d go shopping with the girls and find something less…yuck. Though it irritated her he’d told her how to dress, Ric was right. She needed something more respectable if she wanted to change the world’s perception.

It would take a lot more than an ugly pencil skirt to do the job.

The phone on the desk rang and she picked it up. ‘Hello?’

‘Good, you’re still there. Get me a coffee before you leave.’

The line went dead and she blinked at the receiver. How about he get his own bloody coffee!

Returning the phone to the cradle, she stifled a shriek. First blackmail, followed by a severe guilt trip and now this. It was time she had words with the pushy git. She’d agreed to help him organise the ball for the sake of her reputation, not to play skivvy to his demands.

She lifted the navy jacket from behind the chair and slipped it on. There was no way she could walk around wearing nothing but the white blouse. It was almost see-through and the fact she didn’t have a bra on was just embarrassing. Being caught in undies was daring, but flashing was mental.

After leaving the small room she made her way to Ric’s office and reached for the handle. His voice boomed out from behind his office door. He spoke in sharp, clipped Spanish. The stress was evident in his tone, even if she didn’t understand what he was saying. Sadness unfurled in her belly.

Why do you care if he’s stressed out? Get in there and tell him you’re not his slave.

Alexa knocked on his door, her resolve firmly in place. She pushed it open just as Ric returned his phone to the cradle. He muttered something in Spanish which Alexa thought sounded like a curse word. She’d been right about his stress levels. His suit jacket was strewn over a chair in front of his desk, and the top three buttons were undone on his white shirt, showing a flash of that rock hard chest. He ran his hand through his dark hair, making tufts stand on end. Her mouth watered.

‘I’m not your PA. Get your own coffee.’ She’d planned on saying more, but couldn’t get the words out.

He glared at her with hard eyes, then darted a glance at the clock hanging on the wall. ‘Fine.’ His accent was thick with agitation. ‘I need you here at eight o’clock tomorrow again. We have a meeting to attend.’

His attention went back to the papers scattered over his desk. It was a clear dismissal. Did he think she was going to let it drop? She sauntered over to his desk and propped her bottom against the dark wood at his side. He looked up at her, his expression tight and exasperated.

‘I’m on holiday.’

She heard him grind his teeth. ‘You also agreed to help me organise a ball. The mansion isn’t right, you said so yourself. We have to find somewhere else. I’ve managed to get an appointment with the owners of
Madame Dior.
’

‘Madame who?’ She blinked at him, wondering if he’d hired some burlesque club.

‘The yacht you suggested. They have agreed to meet us.’ A small smile curved his lips.

‘How did you manage that?’ Yesterday he’d said it was impossible.

‘I have my ways.’ His gaze fell to the contract on his desk and he cursed. ‘And now I have work to do.’

‘Aren’t you having a lunch break?’ The hollow ache in her stomach screamed for food, and she was smaller than him. Surely a man his size had to eat three meals a day.

‘I’m too busy for a break and it seems I’ll be going without coffee, too.’

She fought the tiniest hint of guilt creeping in, determined to start as she meant to go on.

‘All work and no breaks make Ric a dull boy.’ She grinned down at him, trying to lighten his mood.

The tension fixing his jaw didn’t ease. Damn.

‘Is there something else you want?’

Alexa looked at the papers. All were in Spanish, but she assumed they were contracts of some sort judging by the format. He had scored out blocks in red ink and added lots of text next to large paragraphs. No wonder he was stressed. He was a workaholic. What happened to the headline grabbing adrenaline-junkie who jumped out of planes and backpacked through Europe in the summer?

‘I want you to take a break. Then you can come back with a full belly and a clear head.’ She refused to back down. He was going to go prematurely grey at this rate.

‘Unfortunately, we can’t all slack off when the feeling takes us.’

Ignoring the jibe, she scooted along his desk so she towered above him in his chair. Going for stern, she frowned. ‘You need a break. You’re not a machine. I’m not taking no for an answer.’

Surprise flitted across his expression. She folded her arms, staring at him with a look that said it wasn’t up for discussion—a look her father used on her like it was going out of fashion.

Ric’s mood shifted. His jaw relaxed and something dark and feral heated his gaze. Alexa’s skin prickled with awareness and she felt less and less sure about her decision to walk into his office and demand he take a break. She wished she’d just chewed him out and left.

Her heart beat so fast she could feel every one of her pulse points pounding. Her breathing sped when his gaze dipped down to her chest, covered by the navy jacket. He knew she was naked under her blouse and the thought ignited an inferno in her stomach that fired through her body. Suddenly, the temperature felt like it shot up to over one hundred degrees and the cool, creased linen suit felt like an electric blanket wrapped around her skin.

In a move too quick for her lust clogged brain to register, Ric was out of his chair and towering above her. He bent down and Alexa leaned back on her hands. Resting his palms on the desk at either side of her, he had her at his mercy.

Ric’s gaze slipped to her white blouse, which was now exposed as the jacket gaped open. She knew he’d see the outline of her nipples. Knew he’d see how hard they were. But that knowledge only made the excitement in her belly grow. Double damn
.

‘Perhaps I do need a break.’ The rasp of his voice sent shivers through her body. ‘But it’s not lunch I want.’

When he looked at her again, she saw the hunger in his expression. It was raw and scary and sexy as hell.

She moistened her lips and focused her attention on his. So firm, so sure, she wondered if they could be soft or if they would be as hard and demanding as the rest of him. Her body flamed with need.

‘Alexa…’

The sound of the phone screeching brought her back to the there and then. Ric stepped back, giving her the air she so desperately needed. She straightened and he looked down at her with a scowl etching the hard lines of his face—like what had just happened was her bloody fault!

She stood and pushed away from the desk, thankful for the interruption. Another glance at the papers covering the mahogany showed exactly how much like her father Ric was, his days of having fun clearly forgotten. Robert Green ruined her mother, quashed her spirits and turned the last few years of her life into a prison sentence. There was no way Alexa would go down the same road.

Ric picked up the phone and muttered a sharp greeting. He pressed a button on the receiver then turned to her. ‘Stay out of my business, Alexa. You work with me, nothing more.’

She folded her arms across her chest. ‘Oh, don’t worry. I won’t be in your business at all from now on. And just because I’m helping you out doesn’t mean I’m your slave.’ She turned on her heel and stomped to the door, grinding her teeth against the dozens of insults waiting to burst free.

‘Tomorrow we will have words about this,’ he called.

She pulled the door shut behind her. He could say as many words as he liked, Alexa had a few choice ones of her own in mind.

Chapter Four

Ric exhaled in a sigh as he pushed through the swing doors of the hotel a little after midnight. His feet felt heavier than cement blocks. It had been a loathsome day. What started off tiresome had morphed into hell.